When Loves Sees You

Before I left Texas I had the privilege of speaking at my home church, The Mission. Pastor Cory and I had made plans that I would share on my last Sunday home and I was fine with just a few minutes. He called the day before ready to bargain with me. I was like, “Five minutes would be fine”, he said, “twenty”. Did I need to remind him that I bargain for a living in Africa more often than he did? I mentioned ten with a video and than he offered the whole service to me. Finally got him down to 15 minutes and thus started a Saturday night preparing a sermon from scratch. I knew I had my VVF video to show, but what else could I share, how could I challenge a group of believers? Most of them raised me in the nursery and knew my missionary stories. Some were parents of kids I used to babysit and youth group kids I led in Bible studies, all grown up. However as I looked out across the congregation the next morning there were new faces. My home church has kept meeting together despite downsizing to become The Mission for the surrounding areas of Hurst-Euless-Bedford. Its not a mega-church, but a place full of people that are willing to love each other by taking meals to those in need and keeping those that are sick in their prayers. I wanted to challenge them what it looks like to love outside your comfort zone. What it means to not only love your neighbor, but your enemy or even love a stranger. I shared with them the ministry of loving the unlovable. I have had the pleasure of holding babies with cleft lips that have been shunned from their villages. Holding the hand of a patient before surgery and that physical touch being rare since the tumor took his face. This past year, loving the fistula ladies that endured days-long labor, losing a baby, and their husbands leaving them because they smell like urine. I have to admit this is still difficult to explain to a huge audience like in a church, but over coffee with a nurse friend I can talk about fistulas with no hesitation. I shared with my congregation that these ladies are often seen as modern-day lepers. Sometimes like the woman with the issue of blood who reached out to touch Jesus’ robe risking her life, but receiving healing because of her faith.  As well as, the Samaritan woman that Jesus meets at the well probably shunned by her community since she is the only one there at the time. Our screening team sometimes can find the fistula ladies very early in the morning by the river doing their washing and collecting water before the rest of village wakes up.  I showed the video I made this summer with a song called “When Loves Sees You” by Mac Powell and the words ring true for not only my patients, but also you and me. The lyrics describe Jesus’ ministry on earth that we need to follow- loving others no matter their wounds.

I continued on with about 8 minutes left, watching the clock since I’m not one that likes the spotlight. Pastory Cory had been speaking on 1 Corinthians 13 that past weeks, so I outlined my mini-sermon based on the passage. Sixth graders at our church memorized the chapter for years in the Williams Sunday School class to receive our own Bible at the end of the year. The scripture has always stayed with me and even last year I had a keychain with the verses 4-7.  For me, a needed reminder that love is patient, kind, and not easily angered as I worked along side nurses from another background than mine. As I took care of Isatu for months, I knew that this love endured all things and showed her love that did not give up, but hoped for her to be better again one day.  Another patient I became close to, before she left the centre, gave me the only possession she brought with her. It was a simple craft of yarn made into a ball, but she gave me everything she had out of love. I will strive to do the same and support her in school, with love, or else it doesn’t count for anything. When I shared my ladies’ stories, I saw the tears being wiped away in the audience; I even had to keep mine at bay. As I sat in front of church, it came to me how much my Heavenly Father loves me. Love moves people to give everything they have to those they love. God ask the same for us because He did it first- by sending his Son. Just like the song in video, Jesus “came for your story, came for your wounds, to show you what Loves sees, when Love sees you.” 

To watch the video click here: Love

2012: gladi

So I find myself with only minutes left of 2012- a year that has been full of laughter, tears, singing, praying, dancing, and most of all JOY. Despite the ups and downs of this year in Sierra Leone, if I had a word to sum up the year in Krio it would be gladi gladi. It means one word: Happy. Wouldn't you be happy if you had the opportunity every Friday to dance (like no one is watching)? There is no better reason to dance than to celebrate healing and to tell Papa God tenki for these ladies- 12 gladi gladi moments of 2012. Happy New Year!

    

Note: The last minutes of 2012 when by fast as I waited for the pictures to download and another hour rearranging the photos. Still can't figure out how to format it to my liking, but nonetheless its long past into 2013 and I'm going to bed. May your 2013 be full of gladi gladi moments. 

A Month in Review

A wise friend told me, "the longer you wait to blog, the harder it is"... and its true. It would be difficult for me to share all my past thoughts, feelings, and activities in one blog entry. To sum up lessons learned and what God is doing in my life in one night, might be disastrous (meaning one very long entry). For now, I will share pictures with you since I last posted in November. A more official life update will come soon, I promise. I only have five days left at this wonderful place.

The ladies spending time with Teacher Hagar. 

USA Election Time: Doesn't represent my political views, but everyone else in Sierra Leone including Aunty Fatu. Not sure about the vertical stripes. 

Break time: Playing jenga with my ladies on the ward. They would take turns pulling a block out while the other one held the tower so it wouldn't fall! 

Due to presidential elections in Sierra Leone, we had to close up the ward for a few weeks. These are the last two ladies that left- all dressed up in their gladi gladi outfits. Bernadette, Ward Supervisor and Millicent, OR supervisor, joined me to say goodbye to these precious ladies. 

American Thanksgiving with friends from all over the World. Thankful for this amazing place to work, beautiful country, and friends that support you even when life seems impossible. 

The VVF Ward was closed, but maternity stayed open so we had babies! Serah was a former VVF patient, but came back pregnant with twins during elections. President Koroma is re-elected! 

Baby "Allison" came for a visit! It was the highlight of my day- my week! Her Mama was also a former VVF and had her in October at AWC. Now Allison comes for her immunizations. 

Reunions

Standing on that dock, waving the M/VAfrica Mercy goodbye with my ship family in tow was a weird feeling, but deep down inside I knew I would see them again. Fast forward ten months... and what a joyful reunion it was! Last week I had the privilege of being a guest on the ship (thank you Schwebel family) and reuniting with dear friends from years past. The decks would echo with shrieks of laughter, as I would see familiar faces, even to the point of people coming out of their offices to see what the commotion was all about. Oops. I would get double takes from people that were surprised to see me onboard. Invited by the youth for a private pizza and pool party. Every corner I turned, there was someone there to give me a hug and welcome me home to the ship. Even the Gurkas’ hugs were so tight that I was afraid they would break a rib!  That is what I needed the most: hugs. With those embraces came love and encouragement from the people that know me so well after experiencing Africa together.  They know the challenges of work- struggles to know how to help and the heartache when we cannot, they understand the need for flexibility and patience when we live on Africa’s timing.  I am so thankful for all the time I had to catch up with friends over coffee and meals up on deck. They would ask me “So how is Sierra Leone?” and they would listen intently. By the end, I got my response down to a few minutes summary about my ladies and how much joy they brought me each day. Thank you ship family for the wonderful reunion- hope to do it again real soon!

So on Thursday, I thought I would never make it back to Salone with police visits, border patrol, traffic, and military checkpoints. However, 13 hours later in a cramped taxi, I made it home to Aberdeen. My only motivation to get up Friday morning was our traditional Gladi gladi ceremony. As I joined my coworkers in singing, I spotted Isatu in the front and a huge smile formed on her face when we saw each other. She was beautiful with a new dress and head wrap on, complete with make-up and jewelry, but what stuck out to me- was her smile. She had been with us at AWC for almost 10 months, recuperating from severe malnourishment, anemia, depression, pressure ulcers, wound infections, foot paralysis and two fistulas. My first day at AWC, I met Isatu and saw the emptiness in her eyes- she had lost all hope. Eventually, with some tough (and tender) love and care- making her moringa tea, encouraging her with a Complan milkshake when she got up in the wheelchair, grueling exercises, coloring or crafting with her, learning Temene, holding her hand during spinals when tears came down, and more than anything hugs & smiles everyday- she made it to this day. So after a few more gladi songs and a Bible story, the ladies got up to walk around and shake everyone’s hand. What a sweet reunion (after being gone 6 days) and to give Isatu a hug and tell her how gladi I was she never gave up despite the challenges.  Most of the ladies are very somber, but Isatu never lost her smile that morning as we sang and danced around the ward for the last time.

Friendship

This is a patient story I wrote in October for the quartely reports to our funders. I have been able to see these ladies throughout the year (always together) with a smile and hug for me...

Most people would say nothing good can come out of having a fistula, but Kumba and Namisa think otherwise. Life was difficult, suffering with inoperable fistulas for three years, but just this year they both came to Aberdeen Women’s Centre and met their best friend.

When Kumba was 15 years-old her parents gave her marriage and soon after she became pregnant. A traditional birth attendant came to Kumba when the labor pains started and tried to help the young girl in labor for two days until she was taken to the government hospital. When Kumba was mourning the loss of her first baby, she realized she could not control her urine coming out. Kumba cried because she knew that it would be impossible for her to move around with others. Her husband left her because she had no child so she stayed with family in Guinea for five years. Her grandfather heard about AWC on the radio and went to collect his granddaughter and brought Kumba to Freetown. Her first visit here was rather discouraging when the doctors told her she needed to wait for an expert surgeon. Kumba returned to Kono, a northern district of Sierra Leone, to wait for a phone call.

Near the same time, Namisa was also waiting for a phone call for an expert surgeon. Namisa was born and raised in the Kono district. She married at 25 years old and tried to deliver her first baby, but was unable. Namisa was distraught of giving birth to a stillborn baby and later she was leaking urine. Namisa was not happy because she used to be social, but was now "an outcast, depressed, stigmatized, and frustrated." Namisa's husband sent her away and she worked as a farmer with her mother until she heard about the centre. In 2009, Namisa was placed on a waiting list after her first visit to AWC because her injuries were extensive.

Kumba and Namisa were called by the screening team in the Kono district and brought to AWC for camp in March 2012. On the journey from Kono to Freetown they became instant friends, not knowing about each other even living in nearby villages. The pair never separated, their beds were side by side as they recovered and even celebrated their Gladi gladi together before going home to Kono. They returned for their follow-up appointments together in June and both received urethral plugs for urinary incontinence. September came and Namisa and Kumba were here again at AWC for another fistula camp. They do not look anything alike, but sometimes I even would confuse their names. In any case, nurses would call out one of their names and both would come running. The ladies both had their second fistula operations done to improve their incontinence in mid-September. October marked not only the end of rainy season for Sierra Leone, but a celebration for the camp ladies having gladi gladi. Namisa and Kumba left AWC to travel home to Kono, thankful to be dry and to have a friendship, no matter the circumstance, that would last a lifetime.

Kumba & Namisa- a friendship forged over fistulas.