See Something More

I carefully organized every hour of my day, writing down at what time each medicine needed to be given, when each lab needed to be drawn, whose IV’s needed to be restarted, and when each premie baby needed a feed. My day had become one massive to-do list.  The best parts of the day, though, happen outside of my to-do list. Like when a woman comes in at nine centimeters and delivers a baby within five minutes. Or when I make a joke to a postpartum mother about taking home one of her twins since she has two babies and I have none, which the entire maternity ward thought was really funny. Or when you have to search all over the hospital for batteries to get your fetal doppler to work, but it turns into a big laugh with your coworkers. It actually seems like the unplanned parts of the day turn out to be the most memorable.  One of my favorite parts of every day at the hospital is when the chaplains make their rounds. This quartet of Togolese, Burkinabé, and American women visit ev

I’ve never worked so hard or been so exhausted in my entire life. Years from now, I’ll probably look back on this statement, roll my eyes, and tell my 27-year-old self that you don’t even know what hard work it, but for now, I can say I’ve never worked so hard or been so exhausted in my entire life.  At six ‘o clock in the evening on my sixth out of seven days of working twelve hour shifts at the hospital (including two night shifts), I had nothing but tunnel vision to finish passing my meds and get home as soon as possible. Six shifts in seven days is tough enough, then consider that a “normal” shift regularly involves caring for anywhere from one to four laboring patients plus a few postpartum couplets and a NICU baby or two, which ends up at an average ratio of about one nurse to nine patients. This past week, I had as many as fourteen. (To give comparison, when I worked as an L&D nurse in the US, what was considered “safe” was one nurse to two laboring patients only.)

I chose a purple and yellow skirt out of my closet, specifically because the person who gave it to me was coming to visit today.  We met last year, when she delivered her baby at our hospital. Her delivery was somewhat traumatic, since the baby was born with a rare malformation and ended up undergoing a surgical intervention a few days after birth. During that difficult time, I connected with the mother in such a special way that we continued to visit one another long after she left the hospital. Before I left for my furlough, she surprised me with the unexpected gift of a purple and yellow piece of fabric, which I had made into a wrap-around skirt. Even when I was in the United States, our friendship continued as we messaged each other with WhatsApp. This year, as we continue out friendship, the Lord laid it on my heart to talk to her more directly about Jesus.  So last week when I visited her, we rejoiced together over how much her baby had grown and how miraculous it was th

Taylor sat across the kitchen table from me, and we held hands as we prayed for our friend, R* who had just responded to the gospel with belief in Jesus a few days earlier. She had agreed to studying the Bible with us on a weekly basis, and we were planning to see her the next day. In anticipation of her visit, Taylor and I stayed up late into the night prepping for it and praying for her. We prayed for many things, but one thing in particular was for the Lord to continue to reveal himself to her, even through dreams as this is very significant in the Muslim world.  The next afternoon, we couldn’t wait to see R and ask her how the last few days had been. I loved her response: “So far so good!” She said she had experienced “many changes,” which she mostly clarified as feeling relieved and peaceful. I thought about how she had expressed such confusion a few days ago before she heard the gospel, but now she carried a newfound joy and peace as evidence of the Holy Spirit already produ

I didn’t have a part four in mind when I published the previous three posts. But I can’t help but tell about how the Lord is continuing to write the story. And how it all fits into seeing something more.  Seeing something more is about finding the holy in the common place. It’s about ordinary, normal life with extraordinary purpose and power that comes from knowing Christ. It’s about regular stories that have deeper meaning. It’s about looking beyond the surface to see something more.  From the previous three posts, I hope you got the idea that God has been doing a work in my own life to help me see something more when it comes to the Holy Spirit and his power and authority in our lives when it comes to evangelism and discipleship. After reflecting on these things, writing about them, and praying over them, it’s no wonder what happened next.  I woke up on Friday morning, knowing that my roommate had invited several of our African neighbors over for breakfast. However, the

Emptied. Filled. Now what? What does all this look like?  It looks like an ugly blob of hard clay thrown onto the potters wheel. Emptied dry, then moistened by the opening up of a new source of living water, the sprinkling of the Holy Spirit.  If I look to my own strength, all of this - living in literal obedience to Jesus, keeping in step with the Holy Spirit, tapping into the same power that rose Jesus from the dead, believing in an authority that drives out diseases and heals illness, expecting miracles and persecution, and evangelizing and discipling others like I believe in all this - it feels overwhelming and impossible. Because that’s just it; it is. “‘Not by might, not by power, but by my spirit,’ says the Lord of Hosts” in Zechariah 4:6. If I turn my gaze and reset my focus on the Spirit of God, it all makes perfect sense. It’s no longer impossible, it’s faith-filled and exhilarating. I think I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking less of the Holy Spirit than wh

When Jesus sent out his disciples in Matthew 10, he didn’t tell them to get formal education at a Bible institute. He didn’t teach them the Roman Road to salvation or a catchy way to draw a picture or use colored beads to share the gospel in five minutes. I’m not dissing those things; I’m just looking more closely at what Jesus did do to equip his disciples.  He sent them out with the authority of the Holy Spirit. They were to not take an extra bag or sandals (I always do both when I travel), go from place to place proclaiming the message of the kingdom, find the people would listen, and expect persecution from those who don’t. Funny, missionaries today tend to spend years trying to be accepted and avoid rejection and persecution from the culture when Jesus told his disciples to expect it.  Jesus also taught the disciples to receive the authority (of the Holy Spirit) to cast out demons and heal diseases and afflictions. He didn’t exactly tell them to stay in their comfortable

The syringe pump beeps, signaling that it is out of fluid and that I need to fill it back up. Considering that it is delivering life saving fluid to the newborn baby I am caring for, it’s an important and easy task to do, but at this late point in the day, I’m just plain irritated. I’ve been on my feet on all day with a patient load I can barely handle. I’ve had things to do back to back for eleven and a half hours straight, and now that the day is almost finally over, the syringe pump is sounding off out it’s obnoxious high-pitched beep, and I almost can’t handle it. And I’m embarrassed because I have students and patients watching me and I’m way more annoyed than I should be.  I want to be a nurse who dances between her patients and is always a source of calming strength no matter how frazzled she may be on the inside. Today I’m not her. I’m tired and my syringe pump is empty and I’m about to break.  I went to the drawer to pull out a syringe. Empty. I huffed a sigh and murm