The Most Beautiful Things

Babies on backs~ African smiles~

Vibrant sunsets~ Sandy beaches

The color of women's dresses~

Kids being kids~

Laughter~

A quiet 'thank you'~

Prayers of faith~

Miracles...big and small~

Liberian handshakes~Flip flops~

Worship with drums~ Dancing in church~

Fish jumping~ Cool misty mornings~Voices singing~

Bodies healed~
Hope despite circumstances~

Spirits revived~

"Praise the Lord, O my soul;

all my inmost being, praise His Holy Name.

Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits--

who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that yo ur youth is renewed like the eagle's. The Lord works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed...The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love...."

Psalm 104

If I Stand

There's more that rises

in the morning than the sun
And more that shines in the night

than just the moon
It's more than just this fire here

that keeps me warm
In a shelter that is larger than this room
And there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiments
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
The stuff of Earth competes for the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver of all good things

So if I stand let me stand on the promise
That You will pull me through
And if I can't, let me fall on the grace
That first brought me to You
And if I sing let me sing for the joy
That has born in me these songs
And if I weep let it be as a man
Who is longing for his Home

There's more that dances on the prairies than the wind
More that pulses in the ocean than the tide
There's a love that is fiercer

than the love between friends
More gentle than a mother's

when her baby's at her side
And there's a loyalty that's deeper

than mere sentiments
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
The stuff of Earth competes for the allegence
I owe only to the Giver of all good things



So if I stand let me stand on the promise
That you will pull me through
And if I can't, let me fall on the grace
That first brought me to You
And if I sing let me sing for the joy
That has born in me these songs
And if I weep let it be as a man
Who is longing for his Home ---Rich Mullins

Miller

Last Tuesday, I returned to work after our four day weekend adventure. My spirit felt renewed in many ways and I felt refreshed and ready to work again. My first shift back proved to be slightly more eventful than I would have thought, and in a different way than I would have thought. One of my patients that day was an 18 year old boy named Miller. He had undergone surgery to repair a hole in the roof of his mouth that had been caused by an infection. The means to repair this was for the surgeon to suture Miller's tongue to the top of his mouth, thus using his own tongue as a skin graft to the hole in the palate. After several weeks, the tongue would be released and sutured, and the hole would be covered over. Fascinating...and uncomfortable...and frustrating for Miller to not be able to communicate during this time.
I went to him to help him with his mouth care, as it is extremely important that He not get an infection in his mouth and it required diligent cleaning during this time. I had heard in report that day that he had also been struggling as his mom was recently admitted to a nearby local hospital, and was very sick. Arrangements were attempted to allow him to go visit her, but he had declined, saying he wanted to wait until his surgeries were over. When I approached him, I spoke to him and he turned his head away. I wasn't sure if he just didn't want to be bothered, as it is uncomfortable to do the mouth care. Then one of the patients behind me spoke to him, and he answered something I couldn't understand..but the other patient did. His mother had died that morning. Immediately my heart sank. Here was Miller, stuck on a strange hospital ship, all alone, tongue sutured to the top of his mouth, and his mother had just passed away. What do you say at a time like that?
The other patient came over and helped to "interpret" as Miller spoke in what just sounded like garbled words to me. Soon there was another, older patient sitting with us and then one of the interpreters joined us. Relieved to feel the support of others in the ward, surrounding Miller at this time, I listened as the translator spoke to Miller. And once again, my heart sank as I listened to what he was saying to him. "Be a man. Why are you crying...your mother is gone now. You will not see her again. You will go home, but she will not be there. So why do you cry? There is nothing you can do. So here is what you do, be a man. Be a man. Do not cry about it." Great. I felt like I was sitting with Job and his miserable friends and their lousy advice.
As moments before I had been relieved at the presence of these men, I was now relieved at their departure. I told Miller it was ok to cry. I told him that he should not be ashamed and that it was ok for him to be sad. Then I sat in silence there with him...at a total loss for what to say or whether I should say anything at all. He had a bible sitting by his bedstand, and I picked it up...wishing that I knew just where to look or where to go for a piece of comfort for this young man. I read some Psalms and some from Isaiah. Glancing up at him occasionally to try to discern if he wanted me to keep reading. He looked at me intently...listening. And I was reminded in my spirit that God's word does not return empty but accomplishes what He desires. My own words were useless at that moment, but God's words contain His power for comfort, for peace, for reassurance.
My mom gave me a Bible before I left home. And she also gave me an extra one, to give away while I was here. I hadn't thought too much about who it might be for, but I suddenly knew I should give it to Miller. I believe the enemy loves to monopolize on our circumstances, on our hardships, on our moments of utter weakness. But I believe even more strongly in God's promise to us, and one of His priceless gifts to us: that He is NEAR to the broken-hearted and that He SAVES those that are crushed in spirit.
Please pray for Miller with me....that God would meet him in amazing ways during this time of pain and distress. Pray that he would be protected from the enemy's lies and from despair. And that he would look to God's word to give him hope and peace and comfort during this time.

"The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:17-18

"What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all-- how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?....Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?....No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:28, 35, 38-39

My good friend, Meg Petock's top ten list from this past weekend...

Monday, October 15, 2007
top ten things I never thought I'd experience in this lifetime that I experienced this weekend on my trip to Nimba Mountain

10. I never thought I'd ride in a van with no AC and 18 people, that would comfortably hold six Americans, for almost eight hours straight, after working night shift.

9. Watching a Brazilian biomedical technician carry the equivalent of a yard sale (including a guitar and four filled plastic shopping bags) up Liberia's tallest mountain (which is quite ardours climbing at times)

8. Thinking, "Well, if the lighting strikes my friends on the Mountain, at 2 AM, I suppose the UN helicopter might reach them (maybe)."

7. Crossing the border of a country that is not in North America without a passport, only a friendly Liberian border patrol man.

6. Being the centrepiece of a hand woven Liberian bag advertisement.

5. Going through at least thirty UN check points in less than 72 hours.

4. Riding through Africa in a small van with greater half of my body protruding out the window, while videotaping and/or taking photos of the experience.

3. Coming to a place in my life where I only brought UNMIL t-shirts on my vacation.

2. I never thought turning around could be such a beautiful experience.

1. I never thought I would sit in the back of a Liberian taxi at night singing a Kenny Rogers song with a retired eye surgeon, a Canadian plumber, a computer guy, and a fellow PICU nurse (aka "team turn around")

What happens when mercy shippers get a four-day weekend??....They go to AFRICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the former days of Mercy Ships, the outreaches lasted only 4 to 6 months in a port before heading off for fundraising and ship maintenance for several months. Now, the outreaches are stretching 6 to 8 months at a time in a country. Someone was really thinking and decided that this was a long intense stretch to go without getting a little break, and so they built into the schedule a couple of long weekends. This last weekend was one of them. Nurses never really qualify for these sorts of things anyway with our random schedules, but it just so happened that it was my weekend off. So thanks to a gracious fellow nurse, I was able to trade a shift and land all four days off as well!!! Thanks for the prayers for this ....we had had an intense couple of weeks before this with baby Joanna in the ICU, and I was just plain tired. Also there was a little trip I had the chance to be a part of. A group of twenty or so people from mercy ships schemed a trip across country to a place called Nimba Mountain...the highest mountain in Liberia. It sits at the eastern border of Liberia, where the country meets up with Guinea and Cote d' Ivoire.

We headed out last Friday with about 18 of us crammed into a 15passenger van, along with all our hiking and camping gear. This in itself started the adventure out on a very african note as we passed other vehicles and determined that we had successfully crammed our vehicle fuller than many of the other taxis and busses passing us. Only ours was mostly full of white people. A day and a half later, and a million funny stories later, we successfully arrived at Nimba Mountain.....and i could hear Rita Springer singing...."It's gonna be worth it!"
And it was! The view of Nimba was absolutely breathtaking, and after that long in the car, there were definitely mercy shippers frolicking all about .......... ! We hiked part way up the mountain and could see out over Guinea and Cote d' Ivoire and Liberia!

The majority of the group brought whatever camping gear they could scrape together in order to stay the night on the mountain. I could say I didn't stay because I didn't have the camping gear. But more truthfully, I didn't stay for some of the following reasons: Not sure camping on the top of a mountain in rainy season is the best idea; not sure camping in the middle of a recently war ravaged country is the best idea (does the term 'rebel army' and the implication of a zillion UN checkpoints mean anything to anyone??); not sure that Liberian search and rescue is up to the same par that it is in the US (but learned that some form of it does exist); not sure that my parents would appreciate me dying while doing something stupid. Or maybe we could just sum it up by saying I am getting old.
Therefore, in that moment of decision, a team was born. A team forged in the firey tension between adventure and stupidity. A team that has affectionately come to be known as "TEAM TURN-AROUND". Yes, there is a theme song. An unlikely, but incredible group of five individuals who I will now feel bonded to for life:) Team turn-around did indeed turn around and head back to the town of Ganta for the night, and enjoyed a relaxing day in town the next day, awaiting the return of team nimba. To our great relief, the thunderstorms from the night before had not touched them, and they all returned that evening with only minor injuries. When even the bravest of them reported that it had been "scary" I felt even more secure in my position on team turnaround:). With the knowledge that everyone was ok, the five of us jumped in a taxi sunday evening and made the six hour trek back to the ship, ready for a good shower. Wish I could share all the pics, but hope you enjoy a few of these:)!! Much love to all of you!

Signs of the Times!

There are always actually too many things to write about, but one thing lots of people ask me about is what language people speak here in Liberia. There a lots of languages, but primarily people speak Liberian English. So it actually only makes things more amusing and not a little confusing when trying to communicate. We actually have translators on the ward, and at first I was unsure of why....well it did not take long to understand that while we are all speaking English, we often are NOT speaking the same language. As well, out in town, the signs are in English, but sometimes even the Liberians are not sure of what some of them are trying to communicate. My friend Amber, kindly shared her pictures with me, so you can see some of the funniest ones. My personal favorite: "Caring is Unrewarding" Posted above one of the doorways of a local hospital. We still haven't gotten an explaination on that one.....:) Enjoy!

Baby Joanna Went HOME!!

Yeah...on Tuesday. The only day out of the last ten days that I have had off of work, and she was discharged! Geez. The nurses are always the last to know...:) But it is GOOD news, and I will hopefully see her again when she comes back to the ship for a check-up. Praise God for healing her and getting her off this ship...alive and with an ADORABLE new upper lip:) thank you for your prayers and I hope you enjoy these pics as much as I did!!! Before and after......

Before cleft lip repair......

And after.....

(her nurse really should have cleaned her nose better before this picture....um, that would be me:))

Thank yer, Seattle Children's Hospital....and a PRAYER REQUEST!!

No, the 'yer' isn't a typo, just a joke I thought my friends in Seattle might appreciate. :) Yep, I still say it here, and people probably just think I am weird.
So this week has had a bit too much excitement, and there is nothing fancy about this blog entry, just a shameless plea for continued prayers for this particular situation. One of my patients that I cared for this past Tuesday was here on the ship for a cleft lip repair. She is an adorable little six month old, but very tiny...so she looks maybe three months old. She was fine as I cared for her Tuesday evening, so later that night when the emergency medical team was paged to the ward, I just about fell through the floor when I walked through the door to find the team in the midst of trying to resuscitate her. By God's grace, they were able to, however she earned herself a breathing tube, and has been in our ICU for the past three days. We don't have a lot of ICU nurses on board, and even fewer pediatric ICU nurses, and the last thing I would consider myself is an 'expert'....so on my first shift caring for her, it only took my ventilator alarming about three times for me to decide it was time for me to call home. It was about nine in the morning here, ...so probably around 2am at home. It was a huge sigh of relief to talk to my charge nurse Robin and the RT on that night, Lane, and they helped me talk through some things.. we don't have any respiratory therapists on board the ship. So every time I am caring for a ventilated patient here, I wish that I had paid more attention back at home!! But I am learning. All that to say, a big thank you to the PICU at CHRMC!! That may have been my first call for help, but it probably won't be my last:). I thank God for the team there and all their skills and knowledge. And I thank Him for satellite phones:).
So, as of today, little Joanna got her breathing tube taken out, and at this moment is doing amazingly well! Praise the Lord!!! The doctors are still unsure what caused the arrest, which makes everyone a little nervous for her little future. Please pray for Joanna, that God would strengthen her little body, bring her complete healing, and get her off this ship and back to her family SOON. Please also pray for her sweet mother, Rebekah, who has been by her side this whole time. It has been a very hard road for her. Thank you for your prayers and I will update you on this sweet little one!

Outside the Gates!

Speaking of freedom....

Last weekend, I finally got to go visit an orphanage! With my work on the ship, time outside the gates is truly limited, but I relish it! I went with a group to Fatima orphanage last Saturday to play with the children. We didn't have a "program", just an agenda to enjoy our time....and WE DID! Suddenly wishing I was good at coming up with games and songs spur of the moment, I wished my mother was here with me! You're so good at that, mom!:) But they had some games of their own, and my confusion over how the games were to be played probably only added to the fun for them:).

"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14

AMEN!

A View from a Prison

Imagine your life being shrunk down to the confines of a single building. Inside are hundreds of people with whom you eat, work, and sleep. Food is provided for you three times a day. You are assigned work duties, and you have free time. Everything you need to physically live is provided for you...a roof over your head, clothes, regular meals. Theoretically you could exist never going outside, but if you so desire, there is a half-mile stretch of road. Cement walls line the road, with barbed wire twisted across the top, and there you are free to walk....to the gate....and back again. Guards with guns stand watch at the wall.

As I walked down that road from the ship to the main gate the other day, I thought to myself: I bet this is what prison feels like.

On the days that I work, this floating dock and hospital are my world. On my days off, I head down that dirt road towards the gate....and freedom...from the stuffy confines of my protected life here. I feel the shackles drop off as I breathe in the humid air and step into the busy street teeming with people, honking taxi cabs, women carrying children on their backs and bundles on their heads, men pushing wheelbarrows, and children calling out to each other.

But it doesn't take much time or distance away from the "bars" of my own prison, that I realize I am looking into the country of Liberia through seemingly unbreakable "bars" of a different kind. Bars of hardship, of desperation, of need and sickness and lack. Bars of corruption, of destruction and constant reminders of war. Mine are bars of isolation, of dissatisfaction, of fear, and insecurity. Theirs are bars of poverty... Mine, of affluence.

How easy it is for one to be held captive. As my eyes are opened to my own prison walls, and as I have the privilege of meeting these beautiful people through the bars of their own, I become more and more convinced that the answers and solutions this world offers are desperately limited. I need something more. And I need to offer something more. I started this post a couple of days ago, and couldn't quite find the words to finish. I was a little overwhelmed, actually. How can a prisoner preach freedom? How can I, with chains of sin around me, offer hope to anyone else? But the Lord is good to shed light into those darker thoughts...and help me to see that perhaps no one can truly know freedom the way that a prisoner can.

There is a man in the Bible who found himself in a real prison because he testified regarding Jesus Christ. A true prisoner, and he wrote: "Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is my gospel, for which I am suffering even to the point of being chained like a criminal. But God's word is not chained. Therefore I endure everything for the sake of the elect, that they too may obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus, with eternal glory." 2 Timothy 2:9-10

What a relief to read these words from this man. He knew what it was to be in prison. But he also held in his hands a precious key: God's word. "God's word is not chained." No matter what binds us, nothing can bind God. And in His word, we can find the key to set us free from the prisons that bind us. Then we can say along with Paul: "I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all things through Him who gives me strength."
Phil. 4:11-13

Praise God our freedom is not found in our circumstances--or many of us would not find it. The key to our freedom is found in Jesus--who is God's word. "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm then and do not let yourselves be brudened again by a yoke of slavery." Gal.5:1

I don't want to live as a prisoner when I have been given a key. My prayer today is that I would have the courage to seek God, and in His Word find the truth offered to me by the One who was sent for this very purpose, "to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners..." Isaiah 61:1

Let freedom ring!!:)