Three Boxes

My missionary training had began in the Fall of 2008 and I just met him, but he asked me a profound question. John Rae, an international director of Mercy Ships, asked me “What do you think you need for Africa?” My new friend from South Africa followed with words of wisdom I will never forget. It was not a water filter system or a mosquito net that was essential. It was flexibility, patience, and most of all courage that I needed to pack for my journey over the ocean. After taking the required personality test, I knew I needed to work on letting go of some of my Type A traits. I understood learning to be flexible and patient in a place that was still years behind the western world. Leaving for a year to work in Benin, West Africa would be great practice. However, I thought I had already checked “courage” off my list. Quitting my job as an operating room nurse, saying goodbye to my family and friends, and moving to a country I never knew existed until I looked at a map- all fell under the bravery category. Why did he stress the need for courage more than malaria prophylaxis or sunscreen? Nonetheless, I turned the three: flexibility, patience, and courage into prayer requests. 

Just weeks away from leaving for Benin, I moved to my parent’s house still pondering courage. Leaving the country was going to be easy. A friend of mine said she would store my craft supplies and beloved red corduroy couch until I returned. My sisters took what they liked back to their corners of Texas. Finally, a benefit garage sale received the eclectic leftovers minus a few cherished items left in three boxes to store in my parent’s garage. I said farewell over several Tex-mex meals, tears shedding more for parting with salsa than loved ones. Everyone praised me for the brave act of going overseas, leaving the comfortable life behind. I knew this was my purpose in life as a nurse. God had called me to be a missionary nurse. To go and help those in need of healing that is not regulated by insurance companies or any other motives, but done so out of love. I realized now to show this kind of love, you have to be brave enough to love every day despite the brokenness of this world.

Not a day goes by that Africa doesn’t cross my mind and the lessons I learned on the other side of the pond. Not only that patience and flexibility will help you in your frustrations, but to laugh at those “TIA” moments. When situations do not go your way and it takes twice as long, I was told “This is Africa”. I learned you cannot change Africa, but it could change you. Africa transforms your heart to love. Africa shatters your heart into a million pieces, but puts it back together in a way that makes you love even when it hurts. That is when you need courage to keeping doing it no matter how much the burden weighs you down. These lessons were not taught by scholars, but by my patients. Mawulolo, Afi, and my VVF ladies- just to name a few- showed me what love can do to this the world. That courageous love carried me not only that first year, but also a few more beyond my original plan of working in Africa.

Fast-forward five years and four countries later, I am stateside to start new adventures: graduate school and a new job. I’ve been in Texas for nearly five months and I realize I need courage even more so now. The motivation to get up every morning and go to work in American hospitals. Its not that I’m lazy and I don’t want to work, it’s just harder when you have been somewhere else. It’s difficult when you feel like you don’t fit in to the equation. I need courage to not only take care of my patients, but to stand up to a system that tells me its not about the patient anymore. Again, to love despite the brokenness. (I’ll end the healthcare system rant there). Also, I wait patiently to hear if I have been accepted into a Nurse Practitioner program. Then courage to face the years I’m in school until I can one day return to the mission field. I pray that I have strength each day to carry on and trust that God has a plan for me here.

So you remember those three boxes I packed away in my parent’s garage? When I moved a month ago into an apartment, I was hoping to find the same courage I had five years ago. It wasn’t in those boxes or the ones we later found in the attic collecting dust. Recently, a friend of mine encouraged me "to stay close to the One who understands and directs your steps" (Thank you Kiwi Liz). For now courage has come in the form of waiting on the Lord daily as I trust that I will see the goodness in his plans for bringing me home from Africa. 

"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord. In the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage; yes, wait for the Lord." Psalm 27:13-14 (NASB)

Tea

This morning no alarm went off at 5:30 to get me going for the day. I woke up all by myself at 6am. All by myself, at 6am. Not sure how many more ways I could write it as I'm still trying to comprehend it. Its a little scary that I may be becoming a morning person. For three weeks now, I've been working as an agency nurse at a hospital in Grand Prairie. Some days I have to be there as early as 5:30- I did not know that time existed until now. I am thankful for the job, but even more thankful for a day off today. I needed it after the emotional ups and downs of life as discontentment had set in this week. So today I planned on catching up on my sleep because still being a night-owl at 11pm does not gel with the alarm going off at zero dark thirty. Nonetheless, my body alarm woke me up. I laid in my bed (thank you Jeff & Kara for my new bed) hoping to fall back asleep, but not much slumber came. I moseyed out to the kitchen and was getting ready to turn on the coffee pot, when I realized I didn't need the caffeine fix or have to rush to work this morning. I could enjoy a cup of tea instead. I dusted off my beloved cobalt blue teapot remembering how much my grandmother loved it. That was one of the many things I inherited when she passed away so I packed it with care five years ago before I left for Africa. So as I took the lid off to fill with water, I noticed two pieces of paper crumpled up in it. Setting them aside, I filled the pot and placed it on the stovetop. As I waited for the steam to produce the whistle I read the pieces of paper:

"I am strong for all things in the One who constantly infuses strength in me." 
Philippians 4:13, translation by Kenneth Wuest, Greek Scholar. 

"At all times, in all circumstances, Christ is able and willing to provide strength we need to be content. Contentment occurs when Christ's strength is infused into my weak body, soul, and spirit. To infuse means to pour, fill, soak, extract. Every morning when I dip my herbal tea bag into boiling water, I witness infusion. How does God enable us us to be content? He infuses contentment into us through His Word. As it seeps into our minds, it transforms us. Just as a cup of tea gets stronger when we give it time to steep, so we become more content when we spend time in God's Word and allow it to seep into our lives transforming us to be like Him" - Calm My Anxious Heart, Linda Dillow

These were excerpts out of one of my favorite books, Calm My Anxious Heart. I have lost track of how many times I have flipped through the pages of this book when my heart was searching for contentment. Whether it was when I was transferring colleges, dealing with relationships, or waiting to be done with work so I could travel to Africa- it brought me back to where I needed to be- in God's Word. I had shared this devotion with a friend of mine last week, but I think God wanted me to meditate on it some more. Five years ago, I placed it in the teapot (although I don't remember) predicting the need for the encouragement as I start a new life stateside. So instead of sleeping in this morning, I drank my tea and allowed God's Word to infuse strength in me for the days ahead as I find contentment in this life.  

Wordless Weekend: Guatemala

Putting God first in everything that we do at the San Raymundo Clinic. 

Remember Abuelo Teodoro? (look back @ my last blog)

Always an exciting day when a baby is born! Welcome Baby Jereme! 

How many people does it take to put on a cast? 

Sweet Nina.

Beautiful Antigua. One of my favorite places on earth. 

Beautiful textiles of Chichicastengo. 

Sarstun Clinic, on the NE coast, border of Guatemala & Belize.. aka Jungle.  

Caught taking a picture of Deb Bell (founder of Refuge Int'l) on the boat trip to Sarstun. 

Sarstun OR: Julie rocked being a OR nurse for the week! 

Patrona helping me translate Spanish into another dialect during a spinal.

Three meals a day of black beans, eggs, fruit, and tortillas. 

Left Sarstun in the middle of a rain storm, but survived the week in the jungle! 

Disclaimer: I realized it really couldn't be wordless or you might not know what you're looking at so I added captions! What a joy it was to work with so many people from all different backgrounds as we came together for a common purpose. I am grateful for another opportunity to go and help those in need of healing they could not receive elsewhere. Thank you all for your prayers and support as I went literally to "ends of the earth" in Guatemala!

Blessing from God

As I sat down in the recovery room for the first time (at least it felt like it) to rest my tired feet,  Teodoro, one of the patients was getting up from the stretcher. One of the nurses, Tessa, was helping him make a lap around the recovery room following his gallbladder surgery earlier that day. I had met him in the pre-op room and as his nurse escorted him into the chilly operating room for his surgery. Teodoro was a frail older man, in his 70s, that suffered with gallstones for a long time and most likely other health conditions that come with age. He was short, with a rounded back, and a head and mustache of gray hair- your typical Guatemalan abuelo (grandpa). We all fell in love with Teodoro because of his smile that never left his face despite communication barriers (our Spanglish versus his Guatemalan dialect Spanish). Teodoro went home the day after surgery, most likely a rough ride on the road through San Raymundo, still with a smile on his face. A few days passed and news traveled quickly, that Abuelo Teodoro was back at the clinic, very ill. Thankfully, we had amazing doctors and nurses that worked together to take care of Teodoro. As we packed up the clinic on Friday, he was transferred to a local hospital for more observation. The group of volunteers spent the weekend in Antigua and we all talked about Teodoro wondering how he was doing. So when I arrived back in San Raymundo on Monday morning, my priority was to find out how our beloved patient was doing. With a few phone calls, Edy, our translator, told us Teodoro recovered fully from his surgery and went home on Sunday. I think back to the day in recovery as Teodoro was resting on the side of his bed, he smiled and scanned the room with his hand and told us with the help of a translator that we were all "blessings from God".

Today, three of us were working on inventory at the clinic and I thought of all the amazing people that I had the pleasure to work with last week. Nurse practitioners students & teachers from Case Western, pre-med students from Oklahoma and Florida, and quite possibly a quarter of the population from Dalhart, Texas. Medical volunteers brought their friends and family members to share in the missionary experience. Thankful for those that cleaned instruments and made sure our patients had their lab work done. There were surgeons fixing clubfeet and hernias, volunteers passing out toys to children, others painting or counting pills- each person was a blessing from God.

Foundation

Its almost midnight and I have a 6am flight out so no deep thought blog will happen tonight. However, one of most devoted blog "fans" out there encouraged me to keep writing- so Patti this is for you. I wish I could do more than just write a blog for Brian and Patti Grams. They played a huge part in who I am today. Brian was my youth pastor back in the days of Mid-Cities Bible Church and Patti was one of my spiritual mentors through the teenage years and on to college. They both taught me what it meant to be first a servant and then using that to build God's kingdom. I was bitten by the "mission bug" at 15-years old on my first mission trip to Juarez, Mexico. Tonight as we gathered with friends, we wondered if those houses that we built in three days were still standing. I was always amazed that a group of teenagers could mix by HAND a cement foundation sturdy enough for a house, but we did each time. The other foundation that was formed down in the desert of Mexico, was a faith foundation for many of us. My foundation of missions was formed as we not only built the house for a family in need, we did Vacation Bible school with the neighborhood children. We shared with them how Jesus loved them and that He died on the cross for their sins. That's the foundation I have never forgotten each mission field I visited from Mexico, to West Africa, and now on to Guatemala. Jesus is the most sturdy foundation any of us can ever have in this world.