Almost here!

Life has a way of coming full circle.  I am returning to the ship in just a few weeks to spend nearly 5 months doing what I love--sharing love and compassion with those less fortunate. Getting ready to leave home this time has been challenging as I prepare to sell my home of 14 years and get it ready to list with a realtor.  I've managed to rid myself of many unnecessary things and I am faced with moving the last of my belongings to my new place, a combination garage/ efficiency apartment that is still under construction. So, what do I really need?  What will give me joy? How much stuff will I have room for in my new, smaller space?  (Thank you, Africa Mercy, for preparing  me to live in small quarters!) I am pleased to learn how to become a minimalist, and I think that I am a work in progress. I am looking forward to being on the ship once again, my second home. The time to leave is almost here!

What really matters?

After a bit of a delay, the ship arrived in Madagascar and we are once again safely moored at our usual dockside space.  Surgeries began 2 weeks ago and the hospital deck is filled with the sounds of voices of patients, caregivers and staff.  Admissions has been a busy place. The three admission nurses are from all across the world; Cameroon, Holland, and the United States and for each of them it is their first time here.  Most have never before seen the kinds of maladies that are common here.  It is a constant reminder of just how blessed we are.  There is a spirit of hope in our admissions process as we see the process of transformation begin.  It's not just about the healing of the body.  It's about the relationships that develop as love is poured out unconditionally for no matter how disfigured a body can be, there is still a person inside that craves being valued and loved.  In the end, what really matters is the quality and care with which we have loved others.  It is a privilege to begin that transformation in admissions.  Bring them on!  We have love to give!

Enough

  I apologize to those of you who check my blog on a regular basis for updates. It has been a very long time since I wrote anything new!
  I have been contemplating what is "enough" since reading the book with that title, written by Will Davis, Jr.  Webster defines enough as having sufficient amounts, or as much or as many as required. Two cups of coffee is enough to begin my day. Sometimes my living space does not seem like enough to hold all the belongings I have accumulated in the 5 months on board the ship  and as I think about coming home in 10 weeks I realize some things are going to have to go.  Will  8 weeks be enough time to be home before I return to the ship the end of July?  I certainly hope so!
  And what does enough mean in my daily work in Admissions?  Are there enough healthy patients to fill the OR slots for the next day? Did we butter enough bread to feed every patient lunch? Is there enough time to draw all the labs and get the results before it is time to take the patients up the gangway and down to the hospital ward?  Have we spent enough time talking to the patients so that they are no longer fearful of going on the ship?  I look at each patient who comes through our door and see that some do not have shoes on their feet. Enough as a sufficient amount takes on whole new meaning when I think of the shoes in my closet at home that I have not worn in 6 months and I see bare feet that have walked up to 3 days to get to a means of transportation to come to the port city of Tomatave in the hope of gaining free surgery for whatever their problem is. Each of us has to define what is enough in our lives to sustain us.And the bigger issue is what we choose to do with our more than enough, to share it with those who have less than enough. One word that has changed my life forever.  Have I loved enough to make a difference?

Courage

During the Advent season this year on board the ship we have been learning about courage.  Courage is defined as the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, or pain without fear.  We learned of the courage of the shepherds and that getting through the night not only takes wisdom but the right spirit.  We learned of the courage of Mary and Joseph and how they listened to the voice of an angel and heard God's directions through a dream and obediently and courageously followed the will of God. I am learning to be courageous, too, as I strive to follow God's plan for my life.  I certainly have been to the far reaches of the earth as I left the comfort of my home to live on a ship that has taken me to the coast of West Africa, to the Canary Islands, and now to Madagascar. It has taken courage to wait and see where the ship would go next as Ebola continues to spread and claim lives in the very place I  visited in the past year and then spread to neighboring countries. No one can predict how long the Ebola crisis will last, but the ship will stay away from west Africa for however long it takes to be a safe place once again to provide the services we offer. It has taken more courage than I thought possible to be away from my family and friends this year at Thanksgiving and Christmas.  It takes courage for every patient to come to the ship and walk up the gangway and enter the hospital ward to be cared for by strangers.  The ship is a place of hope and healing for many, but not for all.  And those who can't be helped have the most courage of all as they return to their life that has not been transformed.  And then what we can still do is show compassion and love, for love never fails even in the face of discouragement.  May you be blessed in the year to come and may you find courage to follow your dream and be filled with love and hope!

Madagascar!

 If you haven’t heard yet, the Africa Mercy is headed toward Madagascar for its next field service!

Originally, we had hoped to serve the nation of Guinea during this field service, but due to the Ebola outbreak, our field service location was changed to Benin.  Amidst growing concerns about the spread of the disease in Western Africa, Mercy Ships accepted the invitation from the President of the Republic of Madagascar to bring the Africa Mercy to Madagascar for its next field service until the middle of 2015.

Madagascar is located off the south-eastern coast of Africa. More than 43% of its more than 22 million inhabitants are under the age of 20, and the nation is positioned 151 out of 187 nations in the UN Human Development Index151 out of 187 countries in the U.N. Human Development Index. The Mercy Ship is expected to sail with a stopover in Cape Town, South Africa, at the end of the month for refueling and crewing. Anticipated arrival into Tamatave, Madagascar, is by the end of October. 1 out of 187 countries in the U.N. Human Development Index. The Mercy Ship is expected to sail with a stopover in Cape Town, South Africa, at the end of the month for refueling and crewing. Anticipated arrival into Tamatave, Madagascar, is by the end of October 151 out of 187 countries in the U.N. Human Development Index. The Mercy Ship is expected to sail with a stopover in Cape Town, South Africa, at the end of the month for refueling and crewing. Anticipated arrival into Tamatave, Madagascar, is by the end of October..  Ninety percent of the population lives on less than two dollars per day, and official reports indicate that Madagascar has about  16 doctors for every 100,000 citizens. 

A protracted political crisis in recent years has endangered the nation’s ability to meet a number of millennium development goals and has taken a heavy toll on Madagascar’s economy and people, especially the most vulnerable.

Madagascar lies in the Indian Ocean off the southeast coast of Africa opposite Mozambique. The world's fourth-largest island, it is twice the size of Arizona. The country's low-lying coastal area gives way to a central plateau. The once densely wooded interior has largely been cut down.

Malagasy and French are both official languages of the state. The majority of the population adheres to traditional beliefs, Christianity, or an amalgamation of both. Ecotourism and agriculture, paired with greater investments in education, health and private enterprise, are key elements of Madagascar's development strategy. 

I am glad to be back on the ship.   Thank you so much for your continued prayers and support while I am away from my family and friends  back home.  I couldn't do this without you!

                                 After we left Cape Town we sailed past the Cape of Good Hope

                                                                                     Night Watch

Plans change

   We live our lives on a schedule for the most part, marking a calendar with important meetings, Doctor appointments, and a variety of other things that will remind us of times we need to be somewhere.  I thought I was going to be home (in Ohio) until after the first of the year when I had planned to return to the Africa Mercy.  But plans change.  The ship (my home away from home) has been docked in the Canary Islands since early June as first the intended field service to Guinea was changed to Benin due to the Ebola outbreak ravaging that country and then it became apparent that Benin was out of the question as well since the Ebola outbreak has now spread to countries that border Benin.  The ship is like a magnet that draws hurting and disfigured people for hundreds of miles to see if the "big white hospital ship" can help them.   There really is no safe place in western Africa for the ship to go. The Africa Mercy is not equipped to handle outbreaks of any kind of infectious disease and the safety and security of the crew are always a priority so that the services that CAN be provided (life changing surgeries) will continue.  Plans change. It has now been announced MADAGASCAR is the next field service location, and I will be returning to the ship the first of November.  Pray for the ship, for safe travels and smooth seas. Capetown is the first destination. Several crew will board there then another two week sail to Madagascar. The advance team is already in Madagascar preparing for the ship to arrive.  What usually takes many months is being done in several weeks. God is in control!
  Oh my goodness, so many things to get done in the next 6 weeks. I am headed to Redbird Mission (Beverly, KY) on a one week mission outreach next week and then I will try to catch up with family and friends not yet seen since I've been home. To my friends and family on the ship--see you in November!!

Hope

Kirstie Randall, Ward Supervisor, wrote these words just a week ago as we celebrated Easter on the ship and she has given me permission to share them with you, my faithful blog readers!

"Isn’t it incredible that we get to believe that hope rises from dead places and that impossible stones can be rolled away? I heard these words the other day and was reminded once again what a privilege it is to be part of bringing hope and healing in this place. As I sit and type in my little office on Deck 3, I’m thinking of the hundreds of Mercy Shippers around the world who work tirelessly to help make this happen and I’m forever grateful for each one. It’s difficult to know how to express that thanks – even to those a few feet away on decks above and below me. But I know the things that fill my heart and make it all seem worthwhile are the times I see a patient face to face and see hope rise in their eyes and wish you could each share these moments too. So wherever you are in the world reading this, whether it’s oceans away or a deck above or below, let the taste of life on Deck 3 that I share here fill your heart and come as a huge thanks for being a part of this unique and precious body.

Imagine having lost your baby in prolonged labour. Imagine having a hole in your bladder that means you leak urine – the whole time. Imagine being rejected by your family because, basically, you don’t smell very nice. Imagine living with the stench of stale urine that never ever goes away. Not ever. Imagine the hopelessness. Imagine thinking that this is forever. How would you feel? How would you heave yourself up from your sleeping mat on the dusty floor every day? Imagine thinking that you’re the only one – that there’s no one else who understands. It’s a story that we’ve heard told again and again during these last 7 weeks of Obstetric Fistula surgery on board. But the stories didn’t end there. Imagine finding out that there is a place where hope is born every day. Imagine hearing that there are people who can help… imagine stepping foot on our big white ship for the very first time.

And so these ladies arrive. We group them into a ward of their own – not to isolate them, but to give them a safe space so they’re not surrounded by children running around or people who have no idea what they have been through. They each share a living space for anywhere from a week to several weeks whilst they have their surgery and recover from it and what happens is simply beautiful. They share their stories. They realize that they are not the ‘only one’. They begin to hope. They begin to believe that life might get better. They begin to believe that their impossible stones might just get rolled away. People sit with them and hold their hands. They make friendship bracelets and they play Jenga. And in this beautiful place, a haven is created and a hope for a different future is born – and not only that – a hope for each other is born as well. A few weeks back, we had one lady who was not doing so well – she was in pain, still leaking urine and feeling generally pretty yucky. One of the nurses saw her crying and when asked why, she discovered that they were not tears of sadness or self pity but tears of joy. She said she was just so happy for the lady in the bed next to her who was now healed.  How easy would you find it to rejoice when others rejoice… even when your deepest hope is not yet realized for yourself? Isn’t it beautiful?

And in amongst this haven of hope, the ladies sing. Most of our patients get to climb up to Deck 7 every afternoon for an hour or so of air and a glimpse of life beyond our windowless Deck 3. But since this special group of ladies aren’t allowed to climb the stairs whilst they heal, the nurses and translators have created a daily – twice daily – sometimes even more often than that – routine to keep them from lying in bed ALL day long. They just simply walk up and down the corridor and sing and there’s nothing like the sound of it wafting it’s way into my office. It’s eerily beautiful and I know in these moments it’s not just about the singing. They harmonise and sing words of thanks to God. It’s stunning in itself but something far bigger is happening than just that. As the ladies sing, I know that God’s Spirit is thick upon them. There’s safety, there’s acceptance, there’s love, there’s freedom, there’s healing for hearts that have lived with the deepest kind of rejection I could ever imagine and the hope that was born continues to grow. Whether they know it or not, Jesus is walking those corridors with them and breathing new life into them. I know He is. I can feel it. And I can see it written on their faces. Chains are being broken and it makes my heart soar. 

I could tell you more tales from Deck 3 but time is short… but what you need to know is that no matter where in the world you might be reading this, you are part of these stories too.

Thank you for believing that hope can rise from dead places and impossible stones can be rolled away for the hundreds of God’s precious children who walk these corridors of hope.  Isn’t it a privilege?  "

Each of the VVF ladies is given a new dress when they are discharged from the hospital.  The dress ceremony is a celebration of hope and new beginnings!