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She hobbled over towards me as I heard the story of her situation. She had suffered from diarrhea for five days and looked as thought there was not a drop of water left in her body. She lives just down the road and her name is Gertrude. Her respirations were severely labored, and I was afraid she might not make it through the night. We could have taken her to the hospital, but I was afraid she would not receive the care that she needed. They might not even start an IV because she was not technically vomiting, so they would say she can tolerate oral fluids. In that moment, I wanted so badly to have a medical clinic where I could give her a room, treat her with dignity and compassion, give her fluids and oxygen, and stay with her through the night.  But those were not our options, so we called a trustworthy nurse who gave her a prescription, got her medicines from the pharmacy, and told her to wait it out through the night. And we prayed.  That same evening, Namwin B...

The sun, beginning to sink towards the horizon, casted beautiful long shadows on the red dirt. The reflection of the sun on the water sparkled, and the wind blew just enough to rustle the bright green grass and the stray hairs that had fallen out of my ponytail. It was the most beautiful evening, but not just because of the scenery and weather.  We gathered in a circle by the water, and almost every member of our team (Americans and Burkinabe) was there. Charlotte sat down on the djembe and patted out a beat, and Rebeca took a calebasse in her hand and started tossing it in rhythm. We spontaneously began to share worship songs in both English in French, including "c'est la journee" ("this is the day") in both.  And suddenly I couldn't wait until we have a church in our city where we can all worship together. "This is the day, this is the day That the Lord has made, that he Lord has made. I will rejoice, I will rejoice And be glad i...

I must have checked the flight status twenty times before finally arriving at the airport. I was so excited that I was pacing the halls and tapping my foot and I kept patting my leg with my hand. I watched the same five-minute promotional video for tourism in Burkina Faso over and over again on the screen right above the baggage claim exit until I finally saw her. "Your mom is here!" sais some random man  when he came out of baggage claim and spotted me. I wondered who he was and how he knew my mom, but I didn't really care too much about it because I was just so happy.  After seven months of being across the ocean from one of the  people whom I love the most in the whole wide world, I gave the biggest hug ever to the world's best mom. It was like seven months worth of hugs all packed into one!  We spent the evening chatting over Italian food and catching up on almost a year's worth of activity. I think she was impressed with the quality of the food a...

You would have thought that they had been waiting for this moment all day long.  As soon as we arrive, they come out and meet us at the gate like a personal welcoming party. Stanislas Hien and his two oldest sons, Jonathan and Ebenezer, are dressed in their finest and shake each of our hands with a big smile on their faces.  We slip our shoes off at the door as we continue to Stanislas; he asks about our day and we ask about his. He shows us into his house like it is his prized possession. But it's really not the house of which he is proud. The house doesn't really even belong to him. He is just proud to have us inside of it.  This is hospitality at its finest.  We sit on the couches and wait for Charlotte, our hostess and Stanislas' wife, who comes through the door beaming. She, too, goes to shake each of our hands and welcome us personally. She probably has three pots on the stove, but she makes it a priority to greet us first.  When the meal has been set out,...

Being a missionary nurse doesn't always look like I thought it would. Take this week for example. I have started more IVs, administered more medications, and consulted more nursing textbooks this past week than my previous six months in Burkina. The funny thing is this:  my patients weren't even the people of Burkina. They were American members of the team that arrived about a week ago from Oak Hills Church in Texas.  Life, health, and hydration are not easy things in Burkina. Our Oak Hills group learned that lesson pretty quickly when three people became ill by the middle of their trip. Thankfully, they brought an amazing doctor with them on their team, so together we went quickly into action. First,  Micah got a staph infection that went wrong and ended up on IV antibitoics for several days. Next, a team member got dehydrated and has been having headaches likely related to a medication interaction. Then, another lady had a combination of dehydration and infection that a...

Instead of pews, there are wooden benches, three legged stools, and buckets that people bring to sit on.  Instead of auditorium or sanctuary, there is the shade of a big tree.  Instead of a full band, there is a man who sits on an empty jug and taps it with his hands and thumps it with his feet.  Instead of a choir, there is a circle of women who toss their beaded shakers and clap their hands to the beat of the plastic jug drum.  Instead of an air conditioner, there is a cool steady breeze.  Instead of carpet, a layer of red African dirt.  Instead of suits and dresses, there are colorful t-shirts, wrap-around skirts, and trousers still dirty from the morning's work in the fields.  Instead of having a nursery, every mother keeps her baby tied to her back, and they bounce to the beat as their mothers dance in adoration and celebration.  There is no sign out front and no scrolling banner, and yet you can easily find this church by following the stead...

It felt weird going to the airport and not getting on a plane. Not having to say goodbye. Normally, when I go to the airport in Ouagadougou, I have to leave, but this time I was on the other side of things. I was there to drop off the interns and say goodbye to them.  They have had a wonderful summer, but now it's time for them to go back home, and it's time for me to stay.  The following week while out in a village, our team found a woman with a suspected ruptured appendicitis and secondary peritonitis. In need of a possible emergent surgery, Geoffrey passed the baton to me and asked me if I wanted to take this medical case. Up until this point, he had been managing all of our medical cases. "I will try," I said, and I loaded the woman in my car an took her to the hospital in our city. I helped get her in to see a doctor, and then I helped arrange her transport in the ambulance to the nearest large city capable of echography, radiology, further consultation,...

I woke up to the same rooster, I think. The same rooster that woke me up every morning in Yako almost two years ago.  Our summer interns wrapped up their seven-week trip with a one week stay in Yako, where there is an orphanage called Sheltering Wings, a medical clinic, and a safe place for abused women called Village of Hope all on the same compound. I happily got to accompany them, for Yako holds a very special place in my heart. Sheltering Wings was the orphanage where I spent my first seven weeks in Burkina Faso in 2013. My rooster friend woke me up as well as all the children outside our window playing with a bouncing ball and laughing. That's why we are here, and that's what got me out of bed.  On the schedule for today was a pediatric medical outting to the village of Kabo. First we found Bea, the nurse who works for the orphanage. It didn't take us long to recognize each other, for she wrapped her arms around me in a great big hug. Two years doesn't change too m...

I leaned over the counter and studied the catalog spread out before me at our local Home Depot. It's not really a Home Depot, we just call it that because it's the closest going we've got. It reminds me of a cluttered closet, one where I wouldn't be able to find anything but the worker behind the counter knows exactly where to find everything. I thought about the paint aisle at a real Home Depot where there are lit-up booths filled with paint tabs of every tone imaginable. Here I was staring at a two page pamphlet containing every color you could ever want in Burkina Faso. I picked my favorite.  "We don't have that one."  So I picked my next favorite.  "There's none of that either."  "So what do you have?" we proceeded to ask, and we selected a nice orange and brown from the options he gave us.  Happy with our buckets of paint, the interns and I made our way to our team bureau.  I had so sneakily snatched the keys from Rebeca earlie...