Two boys

My visit to the Hope Center this week left me with a feeling I’ve glimpsed before, but then haven’t really pondered on later.  Tonight I did.

I went out to the bow of the ship and just sat before the Lord and His heavens talking to Him, something I’ve been frequenting with a friend since the new year.  But tonight it was just me, and I’ve been trying to ask God at the end of my days “Lord what did you end up showing me today?” I’ll usually think back to some patients I had and glimpse a deeper beauty in the care and physical change that occurs.  Tonight it was about Windy and Fandresena.

Windy

Fandresena

I’ve been to the Hope Center before and it’s always really fun.  I get to visit outside my role as nurse and enjoy the patients that are staying in the facility for future appointments and dressing changes.  We’ve sent many of our plastics patients to the Hope Center so that skin grafts can continue to heal and further rehab worked on. 

My two friends and I decided to run from the ship for exercise, but of course stop for ice cream on our way home. Windy and Fandresena flocked as soon as they saw three Mercy Shippers walking down the Hope Center driveway.  Windy is about 11 years old while Fandresena is only 6 or so.  I was sweaty when we arrived, but this didn’t hinder either of them from approaching me, wrapping their arms around my sweaty shirt, holding my hands to pull me down to their level and hang on me like I was their sister coming home for the day.  

Neither of them left my side the whole 45 minutes we were there.  Fandresena was constantly in contact, falling over my body while we sat on the patio, craving love and attention, and I was just the person he wanted to receive it from.  He sat right next to me while I was greeting other mamas and patients I recognized, he laughed at the silliness that being a foreigner and not understanding much Malagasy will bring. Windy knows more English, which just astounds me, so interaction with him is so fun while we learn English and Malagasy from each other.  Our repore grows every time I see him.   He knows I love to learn from him and I believe he holds the same sentiments. 

Thinking back on my visit, I realize I would love to adopt Fandresena and Windy’s response and actions towards me to my relationship with Jesus.  Take it back to that child-like, simply trusting, enjoying, relaxing, playing demeanor.  Sure, Fandresena’s hand still wasn’t completely healed and he can’t use it for much yet, but he wasn’t concentrating on what he lacked.  He was concentrating on enjoying me while I was there.  He trusted that I wouldn't do anything to hinder his injury. Windy still has remnants of his burn on his face, head and neck, his arm is still wrapped from surgery, his face and head have scars and keloids that will never go away, but did his looks hinder the way he approaches me or approaches anyone for that matter? No, he’s one of the most wittiest, spunkiest kids I’ve met here.

Both of these boys were my patients.  I’ve had a hand in creating what they have now; though a very small part, I’ve left my fingerprint on them, and so, they have a part of me.  I possess a sense of parental love for them, excited to witness the transformation that continues to happen.  

I don’t doubt Jesus desires to accept me the same way I accepted Windy and Fandresena today, except with an exponentially more perfect love.  I wanted nothing more than to give every ounce of love my body could produce to these two boys, not because of anything they’ve ever done to me, but because of the survivors and thrivers they’ve grown into; because they have been transformed.  

Jesus doesn't want me to approach Him with timidity, but rather functioning under the belief that He is so happy to be with me and won't do anything to hinder the work that's already taken place within me.  Jesus knows every wound, every scar on my body, and loves each story behind them.  He is aware of these wounds, just as I was aware not to over use Fandresena's healing fingers or aggravate Windy's mending arm.  Some wounds He desires me to let Him touch and give life into.  The wounded hand I've wanted to keep away from Jesus this whole time, He is holding with the utmost tenderness.  I need to trust Him, just as I trust Him in the times I sit and enjoy Him.  He needs to do work on this injured part; work that might hurt, but I know it will be for the better and make use of my whole body that much better.  Where the enemy intends for defeat, I choose to claim victory in Christ.  . 

This is definitely a continuing theme for me.  Returning to the basics of faith.  Letting go of unnecessary baggage that I am placing on myself, unrealistic expectations that the world tells me are important and letting Jesus and His Word speak louder.  Where I lack, He has plenty.  When I cry out to Him in my anguish, He answers me by setting me free (Psalm 118:5).  He's taking me where I never would have wanted to go in order to produce in me what I never could have accomplished on my own (-Paul Tripp)

Sobered

My sister got engaged last weekend! What the WHAT!? Little sister isn’t so little anymore.

Though I have known this was going to happen since November, I’ve had to keep my mouth shut until now.  My soon to be bro-in-law has been so sensitive through this whole process, knowing how terribly I wanted to be present for the big day.  Before I left for Cape Town I had specifically asked him if he was planning on proposing before I got back, figuring I could mentally prepare myself either way.  At that moment in time in October, it wasn’t on his radar for anytime soon- I was in the clear.  Within the span of a month many things changed.  Sean got a job, life started moving forward, and he needed his lady at his side- the next chapter was here and I was in Madagascar. 

The night Sean asked my blessing to marry my sister, I thought my heart was going to come out of my mouth.  I knew it was so right, but I was so sad.  I took it immediately to the Lord, asked Him to speak life and hope as only He could to comfort me.  

Things went quiet for the next month or so. I was helping Sean pick out the ring based on conversations with Linds and rings she had tried on with me.  By the end of December, he had the ring.

Once the new year came, everything moved pretty fast.  Mom and Dad gave their blessing, the place and time was set, and the after party was planned.

Days leading up to the engagement I was working night shift on the ship.  The night of the engagement I was on night 3 of 4.  It worked out though, because my friends on the ship all offered support leading up to it, hugs, my roommate started my night shift for me, because Linds literally called me minutes before my shift was supposed to start.

The day of, I was an emotional mess, but blessings were peaking through nonetheless.  It was a Sunday, and every Sunday I meet with several women on the ship for what we call Love Dinner.  This was perfectly timed because they encouraged me to enter into those feelings of bittersweet joy and sorrow as they prayed over me.  Then we had church, where my favorite chaplain was preaching.  She reminded me of the fatherly qualities my Father possesses, and returning to the root of who He is as Dad.  I was in tears the whole time.  My emotions were rising; toward the end of church, I realized I was in the moments leading up to Sean proposing on the other half of the world, and my poor body didn’t know what it wanted.  I was anxious, panicky, sad, angry, happy, annoyed, irritated, selfish…I had to try to remain in the presence of the only One who could comfort me the way I needed it because nothing else could.

In those moments during church, the Lord put on my heart “immeasurably more,” reminding me of the infinite capacity He has to do anything and everything He wants and that He works all things for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.  I recognized I’m included in that group.

As soon as I saw Linds on my phone, I lost it.  The engagement was perfect, like I said, tears were everywhere, I got to talk to Linds right after it happen, then Facetime in for the surprise engagement, have my other sister read a toast I had prepared.  For the cards we were dealt, it was as perfect as it could be, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

My guest appearance on Dad's phone!

Night shift was not kind to me the coming day, I was woken up by the deck crew banging on something below me, I didn’t sleep well and I was throwing a pity party for one.  I was sad that I was so far away from family.  I was upset that I was tired, I didn’t feel like being in Madagascar anymore.  I was mad at myself for even thinking these things especially after how long I have waited to get here. Ugly ugly cycle, especially on night shift brain. 

I read this that next night after the engagement.  It’s a prayer from the book Valley of Vision, a collection of beautiful Puritan prayers that a great friend gave me for my birthday a few years back. This is an excerpt from the prayer “Year’s End.”

"…Thy goodness will be with me in the year ahead;

I hoist sail and draw up anchor,

With thee as the blessed pilot of my future as of my past.

I bless thee that thou hast veiled my eyes to the waters ahead.

If thou hast appointed storms of tribulation,

thou wilt be with me in them;

If I have to pass through tempests of persecution and temptation,

I shall not drown;

If I am to die,

I shall see thy face the sooner;

If a painful end is to be my lot,

grant me grace that my faith fail not;

If I am to be cast aside from the service I love,

I can make no stipulation;

Only glorify thyself in me whether in comfort or trial,

as a chosen vessel meet always for thy use. " (italics added by me)

I had been praying all day for something to knock me back on course.  I could sense I had lost my luster for my time here and I didn’t know what I needed, but God did.  I read this prayer and immediately felt sobered.

God doesn’t promise me another day other than the one I’m living right now.  He doesn’t have to wake me up in the morning, give me breath, and thoughts, and control of my muscles to get out of bed, but today He chose to give that to me.  Even though I woke up with very different intentions, He did not withhold this day from me.   I was brought to a state of repentance as soon as I read those words.  I was sorry that I ever took for granted the gift of this day, of each day in this life for that matter.  I recognized I don’t have to make it through the rest of this field service, even the rest of this year; the Lord could take me tomorrow.  He knows how much my heart hurts not to be with my sister and my family during this exciting time.  But He also knows what He’s doing by keeping me here. 

So I’m faced with a question each day from here on out.  “Am I going to spend this day questioning God why I’m not home with the people and friends I want to be with right now, or am I going to deny my flesh and look at what the Lord wants to show me today?”  Remember, I am loved and cherished and an heir of Christ from the moment I wake up because I've accepted Him in my heart.  There’s nothing I can do to be snatched from my Father’s hand.  He’s got things He wants to tell me, but I have to do my part in abiding in Him.  He can and will do immeasurably more in celebrating my sister’s engagement when I get back, immeasurably more in my time remaining in Madagascar, immeasurably more in my singleness, but it’s foolish to worship the prospects of these things and not the Giver.  I haven’t been forgotten just because I am away from Virginia.  The Lord sees me today, he tells me He will never leave me or forsake me, He is my Helper and in Him I can take refuge.

Let’s just say I’ve been doing a lot of self talk reminders lately.  It’s a good place, He’s comforting me, He’s bringing peace.  There’s been more rejoicing in the morning and less sorrow.

Loneliness and finding my identity

The Lord has slowly been revealing the finicky state of my heart.  As the new plastics specialty is starting and we’re getting more patients in the hospital, I thought my attitude and feeling of “purpose” would improve along with it.  That has not been the case.  I’ve continued to feel an undeniable sense of lack of purpose.  I thought maybe it was because I wasn’t familiar with plastics, I thought it was because I’ve only had 2-3 patients per shift, but that also wasn’t it.

A few days ago when I was asked, “What do you need here?” in the context of, “so I can better love my community on the ship and in Madagascar,” I found I was a little reluctant to answer.  I had been struggling for several weeks to name this “need,” but instead, called myself ungrateful for this opportunity and tried to pray this feeling away and realign with the Lord.  The truth I found after my conversation was that I desire someone to know me deeply and to feel purposed again. 

Since friends have left a few weeks ago, I’m finding I feel their absence so much greater now than the initial goodbye. This friend that left the ship knew me on the level that my family does.  She was my person that made home feel closer than halfway across the world.  With her gone, I have struggled with feeling “known” in this place, and in turn feel jaded and reluctant to socialize as often as I would have before this friend left. When I felt like someone knew me on that deeper, intimate level, it energized and enabled to me to be able to pour out love and attention to other people on the ship I might not have known as well. With her gone, I feel more empty in that area.  I can call that feeling- loneliness.

Then comes my frustration with lack of purpose again. 

I realized how much of an American I am when someone called me out on this one.  In less than a few minutes of explaining my predicament, this women called it.  She said “Are you sure you aren’t finding your identity in your job as a nurse on the ship?”

What? No of course not. ... Okay, maybe I am. … Wow, that’s exactly what I’m doing. …Bingo.

Us Westerners put a lot of stock in our careers, our jobs, our ability to advance and remain challenged in those areas.  Completing tasks consumes our lives.  To a degree, America tells us it defines our worth- how busy can you stay, how much can you get done in one day? 

Coming to Mercy Ships, that sentiment came with me.  I think during orthopedics, this feeling was masked because everything was so new- thus I was being challenged, I had purpose.

So what I’ve learned from this wise woman who so gently guided me to the truth in the matter: at my core I am deeply loved, I am called the righteousness of God, I am an heir with Christ, I have inherited every spiritual blessing in the heavenly realms, I am wonderfully made, I am a masterpiece… all before I have done any work for the Kingdom of God. All of these things can be declared true at the time I was created back before the world was even a molecule, because it was at that time I was chosen to be God’s daughter.  Though I wouldn’t know Him until I was 18 years old, I was loved and cherished.  Though I would come to Mercy Ships and have days that I would sit in the café and read a book all day, maybe not even talk to anyone, I started that day already loved; not because of anything I’ve ever done or ever will do for the Kingdom, all because I am who He tells me I am.

So before I accomplish anything as a nurse here, whether I save a life today or color pictures for a whole 8 hours, I am special and purposed and loved.  My actions here don’t justify what Christ did for me, and I don’t have to perform a certain way to justify my time here either.  I was justified the day Christ died for me, before I accomplished anything, before I knew Him as my Father, before I graduated nursing school…all of it.  My identity lies first in Christ, and all other things fall into place.  He knows my prayer to remain in the center of His will.  So it’s okay when I have days I don’t even set foot in the hospital, it’s okay when I have days that I just feel like watching a movie, and it’s okay when I have good or bad shifts in the hospital.  I am taking my title as “nurse” off its pedestal and replacing it with “belonging to Christ.”  

Bringing this full circle, God knows I desire to be known deeply by a friend here.  He’s teaching me other things in the meantime, but my identity does not lie in another person either.  I don’t believe God is calling me to walk through this time or this life standing on Him and not use the community He’s placed on the ship.  We’re just rewinding a little bit, we’re redefining a few things that I’ve let slip.  

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.