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Showing posts from April, 2016

Unstealable Joy

It was one of those days when it felt like nothing was working.  I had made an appointment with the most specialized eye doctor in the entire country to present to him one of the medical cases I have been helping with. He was my last hope that something could be done, but when I explained the situation, he literally said, "There is no hope. Nothing can be done."  I had another appointment regarding another medical case and found out that the patient needs a $1000 surgery that I can't afford.  I received news of a woman that I had sent to a nearby city for a medical intervention, and learned that she had been sitting outside the hospital for three days just waiting for a doctor to see her.  I felt like I was trying so hard to be a nurse and help these people, but I had nothing to show for it except bad news. I missed being a competent nurse in my labor and delivery days, when I knew how how to help people and they trusted me to do it. Here, on this day, I felt like I didn&

What Hope Looks Like

Sitting across the table from me, she didn't seem very interested in anything about me. She didn't look at me, and she didn't appear to want to talk. Maybe she was skeptical, maybe she was intimidated. I began to wonder if I had chosen the right thing.  She was about fifty-five years old, just a few years older than my own parents, but the hardness of life had added age to her body and wrinkles to her face. She sat uncomfortably, but that was because she has had a prolapsed uterus for the past five  years, and she can't sit or stand in one position for too long without hurting.  I've taken on the role of "medical case manager" on our team, which means that any medical cases that we hear about get referred to me. The more we help, the more people find out that we can help, and the more people come and find us to ask for help. You can see how it can get crazy pretty quick. I want to help everyone who comes to the door, but I'm beginning to realize that I

When We Get Where We're Going

I escorted them to the gate, helped them gather their luggage, and then watched them go through the security checkpoint and continue on into the airport. I stood there until I could see them no more, and I had a million thoughts and emotions running through my blood.  I remembered what it felt like to be in their shoes, just finishing my survey trip to Burkina, falling in love with a people and sensing a deeper calling, but then having to turn around, leave, and go back to the old life I came from.  I felt like something about their leaving didn't fit right - like it just wasn't time for them to go yet.  I thought about the missionary community and how people are always coming and always going. It's a fluid, constant circulation of new and old people.  I also considered the couple as I watched them leave. They are seeking God's direction on the next step in their lives and specifically to what location God is calling them.  I even thought about my parents, getting ready

Hungry Generation

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Every Sunday morning when we go out to a village church, Charlotte and I usually pull the children aside to do a mini Sunday school with them. But this Sunday was a little different. It might have looked the same - children gathered under the shade of a tree, colorful mats laid out on the ground for them to sit on. But there was a deeper excitement beneath it all, a higher anticipation.  Instead of being just another random visit with another one-time Sunday school, this was the kick-off of a village children's ministry. Charlotte and I had selected six villages with the greatest potential for a successful, sustainable children's program. We had organized a tour through these six villages, designed a curriculum, and put a plan into motion to identify and train children's ministers in each of these villages. These six will then become models for other churches in other villages, and we pray it will catch on like wildfire. But then again, this particular Sunday was only the v

Never Negligent

"Let's run up to the nutrition center and visit two of our babies up there," I said since we had a free afternoon. Everyone agreed, so we loaded up in the car and headed that way.  We have a partnership with the local nutrition center because we send a lot of our severely malnourished infants to stay there under supervision. The mothers or caregivers receive counsel and nutritional education in a friendly environment with other mothers and babies, and the babies get weighed and monitored for growth and development.  When we arrived, we found the first infant, Namwinbele, happily kicking on the bed. "You are looking so big and strong!" I said as I patted his little belly and tickled his cheek. "I remember when I first saw you and you were so tiny and fragile and sick," I said. "Now look at you!" His caregiver smiled at me and chuckled, and even though she didn't understand what I was saying, she could tell I was delighted.  That's when

What Leading Worship is All About

It's what we were made to do. It's the secret longing at the bottom of every heart, whether recognized or not. It's what we pursue with our lives...in one fashion or another. And when directed at the one who is worthy of it all, it completely and totally satisifes. Like it's more valuable than breath in our lungs. Like it is the breath of our hearts.  Worship.  I've always felt a stirring in my heart (some people might call it a "calling") to lead people into worship. For the longest time, I thought that looked like a guitar in hand and words on a PowerPoint slide. But living here in Africa, God has shown me that leading worship is so much more.  Leading worship is about bringing worship with you wherever you go...whether you have a guitar in the backseat or not. It's about inviting people to adore and honor God in their lives. It's about causing worship to spring up wherever you are and in whatever circumstance you find yourself.  In other words,

Prefer to Refer

I have no idea, I thought to myself when I saw her eyes and the plaques beginning to form over her corneas and scleras. Again.  If I wanted to, I could be discouraged all the time when I see a case that I don't know how to handle. As a nurse, I want to be able to help people with their medical problems. That's why it drives me crazy to see so many things that I've never seen before and have no idea how to help. I just end up referring people all the time.  "Well, I know an eye doctor in another city..." "Well, I could send you to Ouaga for treatment..." "Well, you could go to the local medical clinic and see what they say..." And each time I say it, I hear myself saying, I don't know what to do or how to help...again .  A nurse doesn't want to refer, she wants to do something about it herself! At least that's how this little nurse feels.  That's why I sometimes wonder if I should have studied harder or longer. Maybe even been a

But God

We were studying the story of Joseph at the end of Genesis when the pastor brought out an important verse with an important phrase. "You meant it for harm, but God meant it for good."  In Joseph's story, his brothers meant to harm him, get rid of him, and totally forget about him. Potipher's wife meant to lie about him and get him in trouble. The chief baker and cupbearer totally forgot about him.... but God used all the seemingly terrible things in his life to bring him to a position in Egypt where he was able to save the lives of many people.  In Jesus' story, the Jews and leaders meant to crucify Jesus, get rid of him, and totally forget about him... but God turned their terrible actions around to bring salvation to the world.  There's a but God in every Christian's story.  I was sick to the point of starving myself, but God took my eating disorder and turned it into my testimony.  Maybe you were rejected or abused, but God... Maybe you were alone wit

She Smiled

She hung her head in shame and would not look at me when I spoke to her. Still, I called her by her name and spoke gently to her.  "Lucie, may I take a picture of your eyes, just so I can send it to a doctor?"  She nodded with a soft "oui," and I caught a glimpse of her bloody, crusted, watery eyes. No wonder she didn't want to look at me. She must have been in terrible pain.  When you don't have access to health care or the ressources to pay for it, something as simple as a little eye infection can suddenly turn for the worse. Little Lucie, an elementary school student just three weeks ago, suddenly had a conjunctivitis severe enough to be considered an emergency. The plaques forming over her eyes could cost her her sight. Tears rolled down her face continually, but she didn't make a sound. She wasn't crying; she just couldn't help the constant lacrimation. To me, those tears didn't just come from her eyes but from her heart. I left her cour

Lost Son

She had not seen him in twelve years. He was six years old when he was separated from his mother, and he was eighteen when he stepped off the bus and started asking around to find her.  "I never thought I would see him ever again," she said.  "Did you recognize him immediately?" I asked.  "I stared at his face and saw something deeply familiar there, but it took me a moment because I thought it was too good to be true."  After twelve years of absolutely no contact, he had come looking for her .  And nothing could make his mother stop smiling.  She had spent years trying to find him, and then one day he finally found her.  When I went to Ouagadougou, she only had one request. "Will you search for him a Bible? I want to give him one." She had already shared her faith with him within hours of their reunion, but she wanted to give him a gift that would help him find the truth of Christ for himself.  When I returned from Ouagadougou, I gave the little

Water and the Word

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The dust lifted like a red cloud behind the vehicle as we bounced down the dirt road away from town and into the village, which was the same direction as the flow of bike and foot traffic. It was late in the afternoon, so people were coming back into the village from a day of work, some riding their bikes and waving with one hand, others with basins full of goods on their heads, smiling broadly but still hanging onto their loads with both hands.  Other people gathered at the well to collect their evening supply of water for washing and cooking. That's where we stopped first. As we came into the village, we parked the car beside the well and watched as the long line of people took turns filling up their yellow buckets.  "It shouldn't be this way," Geoffrey told us. When the population of the village is too large for only one well, people have to wait in line, which often causes frustration and conflict.  We had come to this village to survey the water situation and see