loving life

Sometimes life doesn't turn out how you expect it to, sometimes it's so much better!!
Happy Birthday to this life changer! We are beyond blessed with how she's changed our lives-- and many others!

 (We're not sure which one of these little butterflies had the most fun?)

(Or was it mom preparing the party?)

We love our life!

Destruction of a woman's soul

A new heaviness has leeched itself on my back recently. One that I've known about here from the beginning, but lately I'm wearing the weight of it. Purely out of empathy. "It's what they do here" we say, but as I stare into the eyes of women I'm getting to know, I feel for them. My heart breaks and I imagine.

This is the destruction of a woman's soul.

Polygamy.

Imagine being a young woman born into extreme poverty, maybe you lose a parent or two, death and disease is all around you. All you do is work to have food in your tummy, to make a few cents and then, willing or not, you might be married off. Could be young-- 12 or 13 years young, as soon as you "become a woman". And then, to make it worse, maybe you're not the 1st wife of the man chosen for you. Maybe he's a few years older than you, maybe the gap's 25 years! Maybe you're the first wife but when you don't fall pregnant quick enough, he takes another to speed things along. Could be he takes yet another. And then to pour salt in your wound, you're forced to work along side these very women you share a man with. The one who's meant to be yours. If there's love there or not, I wouldn't even know. It's definitely not written on their faces, not the woman's.

No one would pinpoint it. No one  identifies it. But I think I know-- that emptiness, that pain that bleeds from their pours, is a direct result of the

destruction of a woman's soul.

My heart weeps. The Lord's hurts more. "It's what they do here."

I don't care. It's not okay and who is helping the woman whose soul has been destroyed because no one comes home and says, "Hi Love, how was your day?"  Who knows what it's like to be held by their soulmate? the one who teaches that you're cherished, beyond any other.

My only hope....may they find Jesus and learn the love that they well deserve.

They may never be loved as they ought to be on earth but oh, how I pray, one day they know what love is.

I don't accept "It's what they do here."

Your soul was meant for so much more dear, Precious Ones, I'm sorry.

her soul is well

We have a patient on our program that has a mass on her face-- one that's deforming her face, forcing her left eye further and further from it's intended position.

Last week we arrived earlier than normal to our usual meeting point. I was afraid we'd miss our chance to see her this week. We asked the neighbors how she's doing. Their response was, "Worse. She's getting worse. The mass is growing and her eye is worse. It's not good."

Of course, this made me want to see her all the more. My thoughts were that maybe she's now having systemic problems and she's not able to make it up the hill to see us. Next week we'll have to trek down the valley to find her at home, were my thoughts.

As we were leaving someone came running to stop us. Wait! Our patient had arrived. She came scurrying over to us. She apologized to us for being late. She was busy preparing a gift for us. She gave us a bag of, still warm, maize (corn on cob) she had boiled for us. She emptied a bag of sugar cane before us and gave us a whole bucket of flour which she had ground herself.

We thanked her endlessly then asked how she was, with the mass noticeable different from the week prior, she joyfully responded, "I'm doing great. I'm getting so much better!"

Oh, bless her! Her friends see it, her neighbors are talking about it, we see it. The mass is growing rapidly. She's not getting better. And, I can't BELIEVE that doesn't hurt. It must.

But you see, there's just one thing that keeps her positive, one thing that is a blessing she doesn't have.

A mirror.

She hasn't seen that her face is becoming more dis-formed every week. She's not watching it grow. She's not looking in her crooked eye and hoping for a visual change.

It's an example of when I think her lack, is really, her blessing.

When I have a pimple, in my vanity, I'm in pain and constantly worried about my appearance-- what other's might think. Over a pimple! (And sometimes it HURTS!)

It makes me wonder, makes me think how much added pain, suffering and distraction our culture has by the simplicity of a mirror. How much does that shiny glass change my self-image? How does that affect how I feel? What changes about me-- mentally, physically, emotionally, accepting myself spiritually? All because of looking myself in the eye. Regularly.

I wonder. I wonder what would be different, for me to not have a mirror?

I wonder what would be different for our patient TO have one.

Her smile is still beautiful. She came bearing gifts for us. Yes, her SOUL is WELL. Praise the Lord no one is telling her differently. Her quality of life is perfect-- without a mirror.

The Lord bless her and keep her this way for as longs as we can, is my prayer.

Swedish Fish and hard lessons

When the Swedish Fish are gone, I begin to panic, slightly. You see, there are few things that we bring from the US that I save for a bad day (or week). I had one bag of Swedish Fish from April. In July, Chad asked how long I was going to keep them. My response, "There's probably a worse day coming, I'm keeping them for that."

Well, my friends, they were opened recently. And polished off very soon after. There were some bad days. Not bad like "poor me, get me on the next plane out". Just hard situations, hard stories that hadn't been personal until recently. Difficult things that you think, "wow, what people go through!"

Now, as I reflect on the last few weeks, with the bitterness of brokenness still fresh on my tongue, I'm grateful for having to be forced to slow down. Maybe being in bed with malaria was a sweet thing? I was made to stop, remember the beauty, I was refreshed by the Word, and reminded that in our weakness then He is strong (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Even more, I was grateful for the hard of life here. Because, in America, I rarely was brought to this point-- to where I am forced to say, "Oh Lord, help! In and of me, I can do nothing right now. I need you Lord." When 911 is a call away, the clinic is there to properly diagnose, every baby is, or can be, delivered in the hospital, etc, etc, you just don't find yourself in the position often of saying "Oh, Lord, I need you". It's because of this I'm grateful.

Oh, LORD, I need you... has been a common cry these days. And in that, He's there. He helps. He whispers, "All will be well again. Come my daughter, stand, we'll walk together and my mercies are new every morning."

He promises..."weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." Psalm 30:5

And it does. And sometimes, it's a blessing to weep. And to know that, in and of myself, I'm nothing and I know it. And it's okay because He is and that's a beautiful thing to really learn and grow through. 

And, it's also nice to eat Swedish Fish while learning these lessons. :)

Tribute: grace- a young girl of courage

A Tribute to an eleven year old girl should never have to be written. It's with a grieving heart I write:

The face that belongs to these innocent hands would break you-- leave you wondering if there is any good in the world. It's the question we'll all ask God when we have the opportunity...why did she suffer and die so young?

At first I was pleased that she was our first patient who came home with medications that started to resemble comfort medications. But then later, when symptom built upon symptom, she wasn't able to swallow what she had and we had nothing else to offer. It's at this place, my dear friends, where you're brought back to dust and remember where you've come from. You HAVE to depend on God, if we didn't cling to words like, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. " 2 Corinthians 12:9, we wouldn't last.

 Grace. Grace got us, the family and this dear little girl into Glory.

The joy that she brought to us was, in my weakness, not having anything to offer of myself, I asked her, "What can I do for you? What do you need?" She had me figured out with her response. She, with her eyes closed in distress said, "I want leggings, a pair of shorts and a pair for shoes! Please bring them tomorrow." Ha! She got me, not the response we were expecting!

Of course we brought her requests, the least we could do for this little girl who would never walk again, or have the strength to try any of her new things on. I don't have a big miracle to share but there was much grace that accompanied this story. What a privileged it was to empower and encourage the family to keep caring well for her at home. What a privileged it was to watch the family resist the cultural temptation to bring their beloved to the witch doctor (which surely would have meant increased suffering). When neighbors and "friends" told them they were bad parents for not doing more for their daughter, we were there to tell them they were doing EVERYTHING a loving parent would do. They, in the end, honored their daughter's wish of staying home and being were she could be most comfortable.

This little one had courage. More than I could ever muster.  We will not forget her because of it. There was much honor and love in her life and death.

And grace.

Tribute: You were valued

This is one of the harder "Tributes" I've sat to write. Not because of your life or death but how those around you treated you in the process. For that I'm sorry...

It was a honor to know you--
Much seemed held in secret.
Really, we were called too late.
We all had hope,
Especially when your brother decided to help.
You started taking treatment, and you too found hope again.
But, the progress wasn't fast enough, you got discouraged.
I don't know all that happened--
what was and wasn't spoken.
But our hearts broke when we saw your decline.
We hope you knew we cared.
We were there and we lifted you in prayer.
Over and over, we held you up with our prayers.
We're sorry we didn't get to know you when you were vibrant and well.
And, I'm sorry for the pain that was and seemed to bind, until your death.
It was no mistake that we were called to you,
We pray you knew, through our love, that you did matter,
You're life had value.
I'm sorry the pain and brokenness in your family was so great that it was hard for them to care.
They need the Healer too,
He's the only one that could take the pain away.
Our heart's cry is that you found Him, in time.
We're glad we got to laugh with you.
What an honor it was to care.
And we did.
You were valued.
You were.

Tribute: Bless his soul

I'm sure I'd be embarrassed if I looked back at old blog posts, from when I was green to Africa 9 years ago! Because, unfortunately, too many of us coming here thinking we're going to teach people from the wealth of knowledge that we possess. I think the longer I'm here, the more I realize how much I have to learn from the people I came to serve. This family taught me this most of all...

It's easy to scrutinize families and traditions of other cultures because perhaps they haven't had the opportunity to learn the Word like we've heard since we were wee. But this one, it gripped me beyond the scrutiny.

I'm not sure when they married or the complete history, but what we did learn from this patient was that he was married, and perhaps life got tough so he went looking for a better way. This landed him in Zimbabwe and eventually with another wife. Then life threw a twist again, he got sick-- started with dementia like symptoms, his wife in Zimbabwe was fed up and sent him back to his homeland. He found his way back to his first wife in Mozambique. I don't know if she welcomed him back like the Prodigal, or how that went for her, but by the time we met them...

she was caring for an advanced dementia patient beautifully! This isn't a diagnosis/situation we've seen a lot of. It was classic of the patients I once cared for in dementia units in the US. The thing that blessed my heart the most was how this woman cared for him. He was ALWAYS clean. Usually he was wearing his t-shirt that had 3 cartoon toads on it. They were wearing funny clothes, one with boxers on his head. The caption of the Tee said, "Toad-ally Wasted"! I laughed every time, they didn't know what the shirt said.

Upon admission to the program, as per usual, he received our "comfort care pack" including a Storyteller with Bible stories and songs. Unfortunately, a few weeks later in his curious way, he had pried it apart and it was no longer working. I took it from them to see if Chad could repair it. It was beyond repair. And, I feared giving him another one because I figured he'd just destroy it again. But, he NEVER forgot that I was the one that took his broken one away. From that day on he called me a THIEF!  Until...until it was the day that what his restless soul need was the Word. Of course, we gave him a new Storyteller. And, as I've shared before, the evidence spoke for itself. He was restless, in obvious pain, thrashing to the point that I wished we had morphine more than ever. We gave what we could and the minute he heard my girls singing on the Storyteller he calmed, he held the device to his heart and we left him in peace. I trust the Holy Spirit did the rest. A few days later we heard that he had died. His dear wife wept in our arms when we visited her. She had done everything and more that a loving wife of any culture would do. Indeed it was beautiful.

I now hope he now knows what his t-shirt said. I hope he laughs. We will always remember. Bless his soul.

a normal thursday

Many people ask, "Tell me what a 'normal' day is in Mozambique." First off, I usually laugh because it feels like there is no normal.

Let me tell you about my Thursday, as "typical" as a Thursday can be.

Thursdays are my day to "go in the bush." I drag myself out of bed at 645am. No matter what I'm doing, that's too early. Chad's already up with coffee waiting. Nede's usually bouncing around in her pajamas, chasing her dogs. Well, not this week, it was rainy and cold. I contemplated do we go out? Are the roads going to be muddy? What if we got stuck or, chose not to drive and have to walk in pouring rain. Awe, well, the clouds aren't that dark. We'll go.

By the time 8 o'clock rolls around I've gotten myself ready, filled our 20 liter water buckets in the house, had my breakfast, packed my backpack and the pickup with our makeshift mobile office/clinic. I meet my 3 colleagues we fill our bags with the necessities-- Tylenol, wound care supplies, soap and toothpaste. We pray and off we go.

Five patients on our agenda for today. Our first stop, a toddler who's been affected by malaria. Family, belonging to a church that doesn't believe in going to the hospital, left a malarial fever too long. Our little friend suffered a huge seizure leaving him without sight, with one-sided weakness and with little hearing, he's now requires total care. Family struggles and a new born baby makes it hard for a young mother to feed and care well for her children. We assess, encourage, pray and treat as able. Off to the next visit.

We joke about the challenges the next one brings.  A young mom, full of fears, misunderstanding and stubbornness to face the reality that she has HIV and needs to take medicine daily to prolong her life.

Today's no different, our battle continues, she refuses to swallow the tablets. Her two children watch on as their mother makes choices that will greatly affect their future. We feel we've made no progress after weeks of talking and praying. It seems there'll have to be a miracle to move this mountain.

On we go. Cruising down the dirt road, I make a quick stop to check out a snake I've seen in my rear view mirror. We stop to contemplate and get a good look. Seems like a gaboon viper or a puff adder. Awe well, let's keep going...

Next stop, a new patient we've only seen once. A tumor distorting her face, I can't imagine the pain she must feel and the social rejection that could be hers. We stop at the cellphone antenna as we had been instructed, got out of the truck and started asking where we'd find this woman's house. "Can we walk there?" we ask. It was meant to be near.

"No, lets go in the truck." It's down the valley, "close."  Two young boys we've just met climb in the back of the pickup. But...before we go another elderly woman stops us. She tells us she has a growth on her back. She's in much pain. Can we help? We go behind a building, she lifts up her shirt...gulp. I can't believe my eyes. I've never seen such a thing. Deep breath. Okay, where is your house? We'll stop there after and get more information.

Off we go down the valley, in our truck on what appears to be a foot path. The trail gets skinnier. I get more nervous. If it starts pouring...will I be able to maneuver this vehicle up the hill? I pray a lot.

Finally, I park the car because we can't drive any further. Thankfully the walk is only a few hundred meters. We sit and hear her story. We then educate on how to take the medicine and I sit in adoration of the ruralness, the trees that have not been logged away to China. It's beautiful. As long as you're healthy, this is paradise.

After counseling another man on how to take the medicine the hospital gave him for his dizziness, we're off up the hill to meet the new patient. Phew...we made it.

There's one thing I love about a cold rainy day in Mozambique (they are few and far between). Sometimes, to get out of the cold and wet, you're invited inside their home. Modest would be a generous adjective. We entered this woman's mud brick home and listen to her story. Yes, she would be happy for us to do surgery on her! Whoa, whoa, whoa...let's back up and explain our program. We will not be performing any surgeries! :)

Okay, this day is not what we expected it to be but let's keep pressing on.

Next stop, a patient that we've been seeing for months. Here we all feel quite victorious. Our patient has been improving now that we have him on the proper medications. We join him and his family in their "cooking house", two fires are going. We find ourselves quite cozy-- singing and praying, I could stay all day!

Next stop, to discharge a teenage boy. Much to my surprise, not to heaven but to a long-full life, I pray. We did not find him at home. A young man who used to not be able to walk, if he did hobble around, it was definitely with 2 sticks and a lot of effort. Today we hear he now has a "shop" in the near village where he's selling dry fish and bread. A little entrepreneur found hope, health and happiness.

We popped down to the village to give our love and blessing to this young man. On the way we run into family members of others we've cared for. We greet the community health worker. I wave at the "Mama" of the village-- the lady you want on your side when you're in need. Thirty miles off the dirt road this little village is in my heart and I feel comfortable here. We buy some bolos (fried dough similar to flat bread). The girls know "sister Dara" likes hers with sugar. We take off for home. It's only 2 in the afternoon. I feel like I ran a marathon. We bounce home after stopping long enough for the girls to make their tuna sandwiches in the backseat. They're tired to-- the Thursday afternoon giggles have set in. We all look forward to a long weekend.

By the time I arrive home I'm beat. I can't think another thing as I'm processing the worlds I know-- life in America, life in my "tiny house" in Nhambia with my family and then the life that's such a part of mine up the dirt road. They each feel so vastly different from the other. I'll wrestle with it tonight-- how to live between the three. What an honor it is to be involved in so many different life styles.

And so there it is, I heat my kettle of water on the stove, ready my bucket bath, put on some warm clothes, sip my Chai tea and reflect on my "normal" day. Grateful I don't have to cook supper tonight as we'll be joining our Irish counterparts.

If you actually read this to the end and it felt long, yes, so did my day. This is my normal Thursday.
If you think of it, Dara and her team could use some extra prayers on these normal Thursdays.

Tribute: All He was Meant to Be

We didn't get to know him long. No, we really knew nothing about him. But, we knew enough.
No matter WHAT happened in the past, no matter whose back you stabbed or how many friends you've betrayed, this is NO way for a human being to live at the end of their life.
No, this was not okay.

So, we did all we could. We gave within the limitations of our project, always believing that we will never say, "there is nothing we can do."

And, the next week all was different.

A bit of love,

A lollipop,

Hope of eternal salvation with a Storyteller.

The 3 best things we find healing, more than any other.

And, the next week,

he was gone, crossed over to the other-side. 

Into Glory I pray.

I can only hope that he had been reminded, through hearing God's word, that he was loved,

That he knew again, he deserved more,

And he entered into the fullness that he deserved, and now, 

He is all that He was meant to be! 

Sweet man, I hope to see you in paradise! 

Where you belong! 

You've been forgiven. You are loved.

He promised.

celebrating 6 years

From day one she was a blessing, 

even though I called my friend and said,

"she's here, now what do I do?"

(June 2010)

It helped when we finally figured out how to speak the same language,

(June 2011)

And you kept blessing everyone that you met,

(June 2012)

 And then the time came when 2 of us got the privileged to be your parents,

(August 2013)

And, all the happier I was

Together we could face all the challenges with significantly fewer tears!

(June 2014)

Then, we got to build a new house together,

and you get to be where you were with your first momma,

(June 2015)

 And it's here where we'll all keep growing together,

Where you'll speak your mother tongue,

And daddy and I will try.

Where we get to care for your people,

And give them the Word in a language they best understand.

And you become more beautiful every day,

And we'll watch as God unfolds miraculous plans for your life.

And, you keep blessing everyone who gets a chance to know your face.

(June 2016)

We couldn't love her more

Or be more blessed to have had the last 6 years together.

And praise Him for ALL HE HAS DONE!