Mercy Ship Christmas

Christmas morning outside my door!

What a unique Christmas!  If I’m being totally honest, it was the hardest day I’ve had here yet, dealing with homesickness.  Christmas was celebrated all day on the ship, much different than our Thanksgiving celebration.  I don’t think I was quite prepared for all the love and food and celebrating amongst everyone on the ship.   It started with a light, but beautiful pastry breakfast spread with coffee and tea, mid morning brunch with our dining area decorated and complete with table cloths and settings and then dinner if you could handle any more food.  I was honestly prepared to sort of celebrate with a few friends then maybe hibernate and watch a Christmas movie in my PJ’s sent from home.  My day looked much different than that.

My nephew looking studly

My sister Facetimed me at midnight in Madagascar (still the 24^th in VA), in time for me to watch our church service at home.  I was able to watch my niece and nephew perform their songs at the front of the stage, just like I was there.  It was totally unplanned, I was literally in bed about to turn my light off when I saw my sister calling.  I woke up the next morning and was able to Facetime home while they were still on Christmas Eve, shared my first cup of coffee for the morning with them, just like we would’ve on Christmas day.  It was a sweet conversation, left my heart so full, but torn.  It was hard to embrace my Mercy Ship family here when all I wanted to do was embrace my family and friends in Virginia.  We went to church in the community that morning, and I struggled through the whole thing; tears and frustration with myself for not appreciating this opportunity more.

Never witnessed a nativity like this one; guns, masks and swords were involved.

Just part of our brunch spread

It helped to come back and have Christmas brunch with friends, then watch The Nativity movie with my roommate; it felt a little more normal.  Then later that night we had “open cabins” where several families and couples keep their cabin doors open for visitors and treats and conversation.  This also made Christmas feel a little more normal because it was exactly what I would’ve done with my family around a fire in the evening; share desserts and laughs and stories from the day.

The day after Christmas I went on a weekend trip with a few friends.  We traveled South and stayed in some bungalows a few hours away at a huge lake, slept in mosquito nets, fell asleep to the sound of Malagasy bugs and birds.  We hiked and laid on the shore, explored as much around the lake as we could, made a few friends, star gazed and just enjoyed each other’s company.  We had many laughs, deep conversations, and felt rejuvenated to come back to the ship.

It has been hard not working as a nurse for the last two weeks, really hard.  I’ve almost been tempted to call it boredom, but that’s also my pride weaseling its way to the surface.  I’ve needed several reality checks and humbling prayer times with the Lord.  It’s also hard because I enjoy being busy, it’s hard to have down time when I don’t want it.  I like being with patients and having a full hospital and talking to our day crew and feel like my days have purpose.  I need frequent reminders that “purpose” in my head doesn’t always look like the same purpose the Lord has in mind, and His is always better.  So, I don’t want to wish this time away, but I definitely need to find balance. 

What I have come away with from this Christmas season is that I love my family a whole lot, and they love me too.  They blessed me above and beyond anything I could ever hope to offer them.  Then I introspect and realize the Lord continues to do the same thing.  God has enjoyed blessing me abundantly and frequently here; through my patients, friends, roommate, day crew, coffee, clothes from the boutique, prayer time, weekend trips…etc,  and I am so quick to doubt that His blessings will stop just because I feel like my time here has lacked purpose during the holiday season.  This is a lie, and Psalm 51 has been a huge help to me; “Surely you desire truth in the inner parts; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place…cleanse me with hyssop and I will be clean; wash me and I will be whiter than snow…restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.”

 These several verses have made a deep impact in my heart.  My soul clings to these promises that the Lord wants the truth of my heart, both sinful and righteous thoughts.  I believe He wants these truths exposed so that I can rejoice in them and/or have the Lord speak wisdom into these thoughts.  Big or small sins, the Lord has the capacity to cleanse.  I want to continue through this dry season on the ship in full faith and confidence that because I have sought the Lord He will make straight my heart, cleanse what is not good and direct me where I have strayed.  I also believe the Lord will grant a willing spirit to sustain me.  Where I have lost my luster for the Kingdom or my role here, God can restore and renew and sustain.  He's left me with greater hope today than I have had over the past few days.  He is so good.

Education full circle

Leading up to Christmas has been difficult.  Shifts are waning in the hospital as the census goes down.  There are substantially fewer people on the ship, as the mass exodus occurred on the 20^th when many crew members left before Christmas. It’s been tough, it doesn’t really feel like Christmas, but there are decorations everywhere.  Sort of feels like we’re limbo.

Last week I worked with our day crew from B ward, all the Malagasy workers that interpret and help in the hospital.  Along with several other nurses, we taught on different subjects relating to our work, in hopes of equipping them with more knowledge and understanding of what we do and why we do it.  The week was fantastic; they gleaned so much from our presentations despite some difficult medical terminology.  In between lectures we sang, danced, played games and got to share our cultures in each of these areas respectively.

They had some awesome shadow puppets for comic relief

On the first day of teaching we went around and said a few things about ourselves and what our favorite experience has been in B ward thus far.  One of our day crew stood and said “I enjoy acting silly and making funny noises for the kids because if I make them smile or laugh, it means they forgot about the pain or itching for just a few moments.”  The nurses all just looked at each other stunned! Who says that stuff?!

This same day crew worker floored me again.  We have a patient in the ward with some developmental delays, nothing diagnosed and he is relatively high functioning, but talking with the crew physician it is unlikely congenital.  His delays could possibly be from trauma as an infant. 

I’ve seen this day crew working with this patient quite often.  Whenever he is on shift, he gravitates toward this child.  Lately, the patient has been having some behavioral outbursts or tantrums, making care challenging.  This worker has turned it up a notch, singing, dancing, holding his hand, playing…etc.  One day at lunch I asked him about why he is so drawn to this one patient- I was also fishing because I had an interest to see how the Malagasy people view the developmentally delayed (Shout out to my JH people!).

B Ward Bearcubs day crew!!

He described how he had met this patient, Norbert, out in the community during screening.  Norbert lives with his grandmother, both his mother and father died several years ago, and now it’s only him and grandma.  Norbert’s story touched him, and he wants to make this time in the hospital as easy as possible for this boy because of everything he’s been through.  He said, “It’s like I’ve adopted him as my son, because I love him like he was my son.”

Tears started welling up in my eyes as this adult Malagasy man was pouring his heart out to me about a boy he barely knew, but felt so much loyalty for. 

The next time I worked in the hospital, Niry was on shift.  The patient had been having some struggles with tantrums and crying loudly, and Niry devoted the whole shift to entertaining this boy.  Nursing care has been very minimal, as surgeries have ended for the year, so day crew and nurses have ample time to play games, sing songs and dance.   I watched as Niry sat at the end of Norbert’s bed, another day crew on the guitar, and dramatically sang a Malagasy love song to Norbert. His theatrics and comical gestures entertained the entire ward, but Niry was only concerned about making this one boy feel special.  It was love in its purest form.

What a beautiful picture to witness when believers of the church use their Spirit-given gifts and talents to further the Kingdom.  Niry does not dwell on what he cannot do for this boy, like give him back his parents or take away his disabilities and challenges, but instead gives him everything he does have, which is love and joy in performing (Niry is an amazing dancer in Madagascar).

It’s easy to get wrapped up in what I don’t have this season: my family, friends from VA, a Christmas tree and a warm fire, peppermint hot chocolate and scarves or my puppy, but then I think about Niry’s example.  When I start to feel sorry for myself, I remember our kids in the wards that don’t get to go home for Christmas, I remember my gift of healing and creativity that enjoys coloring and crafting with these kids, I remember my enjoyment of serving and investing in the people with whom I’m surrounded, I remember the people who are given the bad news that we cannot help them.  It’s a constant temptation to look at the things I don’t have, but Niry provided what it looks like to be called higher.  If my brother can do it, there’s hope for me as well. 

Hopital Be and the boy I couldn’t stop staring at

I’ve had the privilege of working with the local nurse education program with Mercy Ships. We spend time alternating shadow shifts with nurses at the local hospital, Hopital Be, and the local nurses shadowing us on our wards.  We provide education and teaching presentations after our shifts in hopes of improving their nursing skills and knowledge, and encourage them to share their knowledge with others. 

This past week we were on the Medical/Surgical ward, patients of all ages were there. Many motor vehicle accidents, appendicitis, burns, anemia, children, adults… practically anything.

During rounds with the nurses and doctors, we came to a boy with his papa.  Sitting in bed was a young child, from far away it looked like severe malnutrition resulting in an oversized, swollen belly, only it wasn’t his belly that was large, it was his shoulder.  He had a tumor on his shoulder the size of a basketball.  The doctors deliberated and said they would have to get back to the family about what they were going to do.  It was likely malignant, his body was wasting away, you could see vessels within the tumor, he could barely sit up, it was probably affecting his breathing in some way.   I’ve never seen anything like it. We walked away and proceeded to the next patient.

That night I read a friend’s note from my going away journal, full of encouraging letters and scripture.  Reading one note, he said “Cry when your heart breaks. Be broken and mended by Jesus.”  My mind immediately went to remembering this boy.  I prayed for him immediately, my mind felt the gravity of how sick this boy was, and I did nothing to help him.  He’s practically the same age as my nephew, and I didn’t offer anything, I just stared at him. I thought of what I would do if my nephew was in his place. I felt sick thinking about it.

When we were all staring at him: doctors, nurses, other patients, Mercy Shippers... I can’t imagine what was going through his young mind: fear, sadness, hope, anguish, pain, exhaustion?  I’ll never know.  But I do know that I did nothing to alleviate fear or encourage hope.  I was one that stared at him along with everyone else, like vultures staring down their prey on the ground, unable to take their gaze away. 

Luckily, I did cry when my heart broke, and I prayed for a second chance, prayed to be able to go to Hopital Be and give this boy a balloon that said “Tia anao Jesosy” (Jesus loves you).  I wanted to touch him, his poor little swollen, tired, scared face, in hopes of restoring something to him that didn’t involve his tumor- this thing that defined the last several months of his life.  I didn’t want that to be his last impression of me; someone gaping at him, someone supposedly “able to help” but not even offering eye contact at his level.

The Lord did answer my prayer.  He led me to the balloon idea, led me to ask a friend to drive me, and she did.  I know it was all in the Lord’s hands whether he would be there or not.  I just had to go on faith and my conviction.  The Lord knew my heart behind it.

The next day I went back to the Medical/Surgical ward at Hopital Be in attempt to see the little 7- year old boy with a giant tumor to his right shoulder, swelling radiating to his face, extremities completely eaten away from this growth on his body. 

Driving there I started to get scared, but excited.  I was on a mission to set things right- the way I should have done things in the first place.  I sped walked through the dirty corridors in hopes of spotting this boy.  Searching the other side of the ward I ran into one of the local nurses I knew.  Through broken French and English I gathered that the boy had left.  Money was an issue.  He was gone.

I experienced my first let down in Madagascar. 

The wind was knocked out of me, but I said “thank you” and walked out.  What was I supposed to do with that?  He was gone, I was there ready and willing, but this boy was not.  I went home, knowing the Lord was going to have to do some work on my heart that night.

We watched Lord of the Rings Return of the King that night.  One of the scenes at the end of the movie stuck out to me more than normal.  Aragorn and the men of Gondor stand at the black gates trying to lure the remaining army of Mordor out so Frodo and Sam can have a safe passage through to Mount Doom.  Victory is impossible for the men of Gondor, but Aragorn gives his epic pre-battle speech.  The rest of the army perk up and rise to the challenge, ready to fight.  Aragorn softly declares “for Frodo” to the other members of the fellowship, and takes off running toward the massive opponent.  It’s the next people that charge out that stood out to me.  Merry and Pippin, the two hobbits, smallest and shortest beings present, probably worst skilled fighters present, so consumed by their allegiance to Frodo and the missions of the ring, yell and start running, separating themselves from the rest of the men who haven’t charged yet.

Merry and Pippin were small, but the voice of their heart was louder than their circumstances.  They lost all sight of their life and took off to accomplish what they believed would help their friend, somewhere in the backdrop of this last battle.  They had no guarantee of the end result; they had no idea if Frodo would even get into Mount Doom.  All they could do was fight their present battle without knowing the end result. 

Lord of the Rings. Video of final battle at the Black Gates

That is how I hope to follow the gospel.  Not knowing what progress or obstacles the gospel is facing in the background, if I feel so moved to act on behalf of someone I meet or have known for years, shame on me if I don’t do it with the same vigor as Merry and Pippin, being only consumed with allegiance to the hope that good will prevail and evil will fall.

I think I experienced a taste of that vigor when I went back to Hopital Be.  I was scared, but thrilled to be acting on behalf of the hope of advancing the gospel.  Showing up and realizing the boy went home, was like losing the immediate battle that was in front of me.  But I separated from the pack and ran with abandon, only holding on to the knowledge that I know who wins in the end. 

Mercy Ships Thanksgiving!

Since my last post, I’ve had a joyful time of giving Thanks on the Africa Mercy, celebrating Thanksgiving.  Mercy Ships usually celebrates a “one day- international Thanksgiving” for all nations and their respective holidays.  This year, that day just happened to fall on the American Thanksgiving.

I could not think of a better Thanksgiving away from home. My day started with day shift in the ward, mostly playing with the kiddos, since no surgeries were scheduled for the holiday.  Playing consisted of lots of belly laughs, joy that filled the room and sending a few kids home with straighter legs than when they arrived.

Right after my shift, I baked with a friend and we made apple chips to bring to our dockside dinner.  The more time I spend one on one with friends, the more I realize how high my spirits raise with more intimate conversation.  I love the silly jokes, the funny cooking mishaps, and how cooking together naturally fosters community.  Thank goodness for other foodies like me.

Dinner time came quickly. We finished our apple chips and went down to the dining room to make our plates, along with an additional separate plate of desserts, and headed out to the warehouse to share our meal.  We sat family style on picnic chairs, with long benches set up as our table, at least 30 feet long, filled with people.  Conversation was abundant, the Macy’s Day parade from 2013 was played on a projector, JMU Marching Royal Dukes made an appearance, where I gave my timely “JMU DUUUKES” cheer.  Corn hole was played, the ping pong table was active and competitive, and we played and enjoyed each other long into the evening.  My night ended with a family phone call, just after my family had eaten together.  As cliché as it will sound, I felt like Madagascar wasn’t halfway across the world for that short hour I got to talk to family.  The phone delay was a struggle, but comical at the same time. 

The food was delicious! 

Who am I to deserve to be so richly blessed, when so often I crumble under pressure and lose sight of my Holy God?  So many things I’ve realized I’m lacking from home: no Facetime, inability to easily receive packages, not my normal coffee, sparse wardrobe, doubt in my ability to be a nurse- and all have been abolished. The Lord has come into each of those things and gifted me.  Our internet has just been updated tenfold to the point we have Facebook online all day (instead of blocked off from 8A-6P to save bandwith), facetime is up and working, my family is going to be able to send a small care package through crew mail- instead of missing Christmas because they didn’t send something in time to arrive on a container, I bought a coffee press and have my own ground coffee, I’ve found warmer clothes in the ship boutique (all free), and just last night I got to act for one of my patients who needed several nursing interventions after his surgery. 

Each of those things was definitely hard to swallow when I realized I would have to go without them for 6 months.  I certainly didn’t cope gracefully.  But each of those things I can feel confident that if I didn’t have them and the subsequent rich blessings I have now, I would still be okay.  I could still be content because I’m here doing what I set out to do.  I have Jesus with me, moving and acting in me and the people around me.  He is becoming more of my portion. The fact that I get to have these comforts back, I will never understand.  His love continues to baffle me, but I’m thankful.

Other things I’m thankful for:

1. Overflowing joy in belly laughs
2. For friends and family who continue to include me in their lives though so many miles separate us
3. That Hallelujah and Hosanna are the same in English and Malagasy
4. For embracing emotions and the subsequent growth and enlightenment it brings.