My little munchkins

While it is never a good thing to have favorites, there are always a few kids that just melt your heart. They somehow gain a special place in your heart, especially when you care for them shift after shift! Two of these little munchkins were Chara and Maurice. Their surgeries were fairly complex and both of them experienced post-operative complications, leading to a longer hospitalization. But our little champs hung in there and improved over the weeks. Most days, Maurice was snugly tucked away in the corner with his momma, sleeping or eating. His mother showed the most tender care, but it was apparent that she was still concerned.

One of the last weeks the hospital was open, we decided to have a worship night/dance party on the dock. The nurses who were working that evening decided it would be fun to bring the patients and parents out on the dock to enjoy the festivities. One of my friends took Maurice into his arms and I grabbed his momma by the hand and brought her into the circle to dance. She looked over at Maurice, unsure if she wanted to leave his side. But, knowing he was in good hands, she gradually joined in the dancing. It was fun to watch the anxiety and stress leave her face as she began to let loose and dance. As the drums beat and the music played, a beautiful smile came across her face. It was the happiest I had ever seen her. Singing worship songs together, laughing, and dancing, we found ourselves as more than caregiver and nurse. We were friends and sisters in Christ. It was a very special time!

After many weeks, Maurice was finally able to be discharged from the hospital right as we finished the outreach and closed the hospital down. We were all sad to say goodbye, but grateful that he was well enough to finally go home.

Maurice is too cute not to snuggle







But across the room, Chara still had some treatment that she needed to receive. She was improving slowly, but not enough to go back to her home. Arrangements were made to transfer her to the local hospital upon the ship's departure. The day the hospital closed, we joined her and her Momma on the dock as she waved goodbye. We had spent so much time with her and Chara that it felt as though we were saying to a fellow crew member. They loaded into the Landrover and we waved goodbye, entrusting them into God's hands as they finished their treatment.

Goodbye Chara!

Progress

One of the really great things about visiting a country I have been to before is the opportunity to see the visible progress that has taken place since our last time here. Even though it's only been two years, there is definitely a distinct difference in Togo...new stores and restaraunts, better roads, and lots of other general development has taken place. But one of the greatest moments of witnessing progress took place this past Sunday when I visited the "Fishing Village Church," a church I had attended in 2010.


Two years ago, the "Fishing Village Church" was little more than a thatch roof held up by sticks and a group of people wanting to be a light in a very dark village. The church is at the heart of a village that is full of idol-worship and evil practices...but, the joy and light of that place has always been very significant. So, it was an amazing feeling on Sunday to arrive at the church and see that they now have an actual church building there...and it was full of people worshipping God with all their hearts! The little thatch roof is now used for sunday school for the kids...the congregation has grown, a number of people were recently baptized, and joy is still contagious in that place!


As we all spent time singing and dancing together, my heart swelled with joy as I watched the people light up and dance before the Lord...we sat down for the message and a little boy came over and sat on my lap. The little ones here are always so friendly and loveable.

The boys dancing during worship time



Marty (one of our chaplains from the ship) shared a message with the church, as it was the last Sunday that he and his family would be there before leaving for summer vacation. It was very special to hear him speak, as he is part of my "Gateway family" and has been a big part of my experience with Mercy Ships. He has also been attending the "Fishing Village Church" on a regular basis since the ship came back to Togo in January, so he had lots of stories to share about the positive changes he has seen even in the last five months.

Pastor James and his family



A few weeks ago, we were able to take an offering on the ship to help this church and raised enough money to pay for all their doors (currently the building is finished, but there are no doors or windows). I know that the church will continue to grow develop in a physical sense, but more importantly in a spiritual sense. If I never make it back to Togo, I have a feeling that there will be lots of stories to share in heaven about how God used this church to be a light in a dark place. For now, we praise God for progress and good fruit and entrust them to the Lord knowing that "He who began a good work will bring it to completion" (Philippians 1:6).

Finding hope

Over the last couple weeks, it has been great to be back on the ship and working on the wards. I have been working in D Ward with the maxillo-facial patients, which is quite different than the orthopedic and plastics patients I was caring for last year. Thankfully, the experience I had in caring for max/fax patients in 2010 has slowly come back to me and it all doesn't feel so foreign anymore.

One of the amazing things that I love about Max/Fax is that there is such a drastic visible difference after large tumors are removed...and the infamous Dr. Gary Parker who does the surgeries comes by not only to check on how the patients are doing, but also to offer words of encouragement and inspiration to the staff. And we also have the most children on our ward!

One of the little ones who recently captured my heart was Gloria. Gloria had a large tumor on her right eye known as Retinoblastoma. I've taken care of kids in the States who have had this, but had never seen it as large as Gloria's. The day she came in to have surgery, things were all a bit of a whirlwind. Typically, we admit patients the day before surgery, but Gloria came in the same morning of her surgery. So, the minute she got to the ward, we had to rush to get everything done to prepare her for the OR, as she was the first case.

After finding out about my surprise admission, I tried to keep Gloria as calm as possible as I drew her blood and scrubbed her down in the shower with our special surgical soap. In spite of my efforts to be as gentle and friendly as possible, Gloria did nothing but cry. I'm sure she was terrified....and rightfully so. I imagine that the typical four-year old boarding a big ship for the first time, being surrounded by strangers with a different color skin who speak a different language and stick needles into their body would be scared out of their mind. So in spite of my colorful kid-friendly scrubs, distraction toys, and calming techniques, there was very little hope for me that Gloria and I would become friends. We finished up all the pre-operative cares and I walked down with Gloria and her momma to the entrance of the operating room corridor. We met the OR nurse and said a prayer together for Gloria and her surgery. As the OR nurse carried our frightened little one to the operating room, Gloria's mother gave me a big hug. Her little girl was going to have another chance at living a normal life.

Gloria's surgery took several hours and my shift ended before she had returned to the ward. But, a couple days later, I was reunited with that sweet little one...but, this time she didn't have a frightened look on her face. She was playing happily with a smile on her face. She let me look at her new eye and when I made a fishy face, she leaned in to give me a fishy kiss. I couldn't believe it. I was sure she would hate me for torturing her when she had first arrived....but kids are so forgiving. But we were friends now and she became my little shadow. Over the next several days, Gloria and I had fun together with bubbles, playdough, piggy-back rides, and storytime. When I would come back from my dinner break, the other nurses would tell me they were happy to see me because Gloria needed some entertainment.

Gloria and I on Deck 7



Gloria was healing up nicely and her momma had completed all the teaching she needed for home, so within a week, little Gloria was ready for discharge. I was sad to see her leave. Who would hang onto my legs during handover and beg me to read them a story now? Even though I selfishly wanted to keep her on the ward, I knew it was time for her to go home. I gave her one last hug and kiss and said goodbye. She no longer saw me as a scary yovo, but as a friend. And I was grateful for the opportunity to witness a beautiful transformation and the visible hope that she and her momma now have.

Back to my floating home

Walking down the gangway in December and saying goodbye to the ship was a heart-wrenching experience...I knew I would come back, I just wasn't sure when. But when God has placed a passion and calling on your life, you can't ignore it for long. Within the first month that I was home, God made it clear that I was supposed to go back to the ship and serve in Togo, the first country where I worked with Mercy Ships. My 3 1/2 months at home was filled with lots of good times with friends and family, lots of sweet moments with my nieces and nephews, and many divine appointments with patients and coworkers at my job at Phoenix Children's. I know that God had a purpose in my time at home and I was so grateful for the precious gift of sharing it with so many loved ones. He used it to refresh me, refocus my heart, and remind me of my passion for serving in Africa.

Thursday night, I could barely contain my excitement as my plane landed in Togo. I was greeted by friends at the airport, followed by more friends at the gangway, then a bunch more at the main reception area of the ship. I was showered with hugs, cards, and kind words of how I had been missed...it was a great homecoming. It was a bit surreal walking back on the ship, but in many ways it felt as though I had never left.

I feel like the last few days have been sort of like one big family reunion...I am constantly running into old friends and Togolese dayworkers, catching up on life and sharing about all God has done in the last year. I can't but help think that this is a bit of what heaven will be like...one big reunion with people we love, sharing of God's goodness and faithfulness...and I'm pretty sure it brings a smile to His face to see it.

I jumped back into work on the ward on Saturday, feeling a little lost as I'm working in a different ward than before....but so much is the same as it was when I left...the patients are still grateful for the surgeries they've had, the mommas still love singing and dancing, the babies still love being wrapped up on my back, and God is still very present in this place.

Tonight, I got to watch a momma light up as she brought  her 4-month old baby boy into the ward. Tomorrow his cleft lip will be made whole...and now there is hope in his mother's eyes. I got to cheer up a little boy who was sad that he still has to get food from a tube instead of his mouth...I reassured him that he will be able to eat from his mouth soon enough then tickled him until his frown turned into uncontrollable laughter. A few minutes later, a small baby girl was crying because her momma is still recovering from surgery and can't give her all the attention she needs. I picked her up and tied her onto my back as the other patients and caregivers watched. As I finished tying her snugly in her lapa, the patients began to applaud...maybe they thought I figured it out on my own since yesterday was the first time they all saw me...they don't know I've had two years to practice :) Either way, it made my heart happy and the little one on my back quickly became quiet and content.

I had to stop for a moment and take it all in...and then it hit me: my heart is truly alive again! This is where I belong and where I am most fulfilled, living out the calling that God has placed on my life....and I am so thankful that He brought me back here...because it is here that I discover the joy of serving him to my full potential!

Changing seasons

When I began my adventure of moving to Africa, committing to two years with Mercy Ships seemed like such an overwhelming commitment. They always say that it goes by fast, but now that I find myself at the end of it all, I realize just how true that is. The day I left Africa, my roommate asked me if I was ready to leave. I had to say "no." Africa has captured my heart and the ship has become my home...how could I be ready to leave such an amazing place!


It has been in this beautiful place that I have seen the face of Christ like never before. I have seen it in the pain of a hurting woman who can't hide her tumor or shame, the brokenness of parents on their knees, crying out to God for their child to experience a miracle, and in the pain of a husband who doesn't know if his wife will live to see another day. I have seen it in the joy of a child walking with straight legs for the first time, the bright eyes of a mother whose daughter is finally smiling again after years of being ridiculed for her condition, and the songs of parents who have seen a miracle take place before their eyes.


It is so easy to talk about the power and love of Christ, but it is a completely different thing to experience it. When I left for Africa, I was determined to make a difference and to help those who were in need. I wanted to be obedient to God and his calling on my life to serve Him in missions. But, I hadn't realized that in "changing the world," I was the one who actually needed to be changed the most. I interacted with people who had next to nothing, yet bigger smiles and louder songs than anyone I have ever met...the source of their joy was always Christ. I was so humbled by the patients, day volunteers, and crew members who lived out the example of what it truly means to have "abundant life" in Christ.


In light of all I saw and experienced, I became aware of my own selfishness, pride, and lack of faith. What difference could I make when I was the one who needed to be changed? And yet, in the midst of feeling inadequate and unworthy to be used by God, He so gently began the process of shaping me and molding me into who He wanted me to become. He also chose to use me to impact the lives of many children and parents from all different faiths and walks of life, in both big ways and small. I have cherished every smile, song, hug, and kiss of each child that God has brought into my life. I have shared in their sadness and hurting when the pain was almost too hard to bear. We have danced, laughed, prayed, and cried together, but in the end we had to say goodbye. I am so grateful that God revealed Himself to me through those children and that He has used my experiences to begin to shape me into who He wants me to be.

It's been over three weeks since I left Africa. I've enjoyed the last few weeks that I've been able to travel around Europe, visit friends from the ship, and reminisce about our experiences together. Tomorrow I will fly across the ocean back to my other home in America. But, I haven't even hit American soil yet and there is already a longing in my heart to go back to Africa. Here in London, I have found myself wandering to the African exhibits at the British Museum so that I can feel a little piece of my home in Sierra Leone. I get excited about anything or anyone that makes me think of that place. The other day, I found myself thanking God for another reminder of Africa. I met a Nigerian mother at the train station who had her little black baby wrapped snugly on her back with an African lapa. Every little thing that reminds me of that beautiful continent seems to beckon me to go back. I know that I will. God has given me a love too deep and a calling too strong not to go.


But, for now I am going to America...I'm not sure that I feel ready to re-enter life there, but ready or not, I will do it. As I was thinking today about all the changes that lie before me, I was reminded of the story of Joshua and the Israelites after they crossed the Jordan River. They made a point to set up an altar of stones as a monument to remember God's faithfulness to them in the wilderness. The people took time to reflect on all that God had already done for them before they moved forward into battle. And while there are a lot of exciting things about going home, I know it will also be a battle...going back to "normal life" is never easy when you've seen how exciting and fulfilling life can be in an extraordinary place like West Africa.


So, before I walk into this new year and new season of my life, I am reminded of the importance of remembering all that God has done. He has been faithful. He has carried me through many high's and low's. He has walked beside me in the times that I found myself in the wilderness and has rejoiced with me when my heart was so full of joy that it felt ready to explode. He has been my sufficiency when I felt inadequate, my peace when I felt restless, and my hope when I couldn't see the silver lining in the clouds. And so, with great expectation, I am heading into this new season knowing that "He is able to do immeasurably more than all that we ask or imagine, according to His power at work within us" (Ephesians 3:20). I can't wait to see all that He has in store for 2012!

From soccer to sewing

It was just another day on the soccer field. The boys were all full of energy, gathering around me and my soccer ball to form teams, when I turned and saw a teenage girl walking over. She told me her name was Anna and she would like to join us. Anna proved to be a great soccer player and gave the boys some good competition. She began to come and play with us regularly and taught me a lot. But, a relationship started to form that went far beyond soccer. I could've never imagined all that would unfold after that first soccer game with Anna.


Anna and I first became friends sometime in April. After that first soccer game, she would often see me walking up Savage Square (the street leading to the port where she also happened to live) and would greet me and ask when we were going to play soccer. Initially, our relationship was fairly superficial. We would say hi and chat a little, play our game of soccer, and go home. But, over time, I was able to meet her sister and her niece, learn more of her story, and talk to her about God.

Anna and I in April (on my left)



It wasn't until one of the last weeks in Sierra Leone that Anna and I finally got to have a deep talk about God. We sat down at the end of the dock with our Coke and fried plantains, watching the boats pass by on  the water. We chatted about life for awhile and I finally started asking her questions about her faith. I got to share my story with her, how Jesus had changed my life, and the hope that we can have if we receive him into our lives. I went on to share with her and she agreed that she wanted to pray to receive Christ into her life. It was a really sweet moment and when we said "Amen," there was a big smile across her face. "Anna, you're my sister in Christ now," I told her. "So even if I don't see you again in Sierra Leone, I know I'll see you in heaven."


Anna had gone to a Christian church before, so it wasn't the first time that she had heard the good news about the cross and what Jesus had done to bring her hope....But, I'm not sure that she understood completely up until then that in order to have a personal relationship with Jesus, she had to take the step to receive him into her life. Either way, I was certain that she had prayed sincerely to receive Christ and it made me so happy to see her make that step. I was able to give her a Bible and talk to her a little more and we parted ways.


Not long after, Anna and I were talking and she said "Rebecca, I need you to help me. I don't have any opportunity." It was the first time she had ever asked me for anything. I knew that she had finished high school, but now she was at a place in her life where she was stuck. Both of her parents had died in the war and she was living in a small little shack sleeping on a few pieces of cardboard. She and her sister were sharing the small little space, along with her little niece, just barely scraping by. Anna wanted to start working, but didn't have any additional education or special skills that she could use professionally. I wanted to help her, but I knew I couldn't just give her money. I told her I would talk try to help, but I needed to talk to some friends first. I thought that maybe one of the older day volunteers that I worked with could help her to learn a skill or help her find employment somewhere. I was able to give her some clothes, including a Sierra Leone soccer jersey, which she was really excited about. But, I knew that I could do more to help her. I just prayed that God would show me how.


About a week later, a few friends and I met up with some of the day volunteers for one last trip to the beach. I began to talk to my friend Harry about Anna. He had met her before and I knew he would be a good resource. "Harry, I want to help Anna. She wants to work, but I don't know what she can do." As the words left my mouth, the thought came into my head "Maybe she could become a tailor." A few seconds later, Harry said "What if she learned how to sew and became a tailor." I knew it wasn't a coincidence that we both had the same thought at that moment...God was showing us how to help her. "You have to make sure that it's something she really wants to do first," Harry told me. I agreed and prayed it would all work out.


A few days later, I found Anna and asked her if she would be interested in going to school to be a tailor. She was very excited about the idea and even went with me to visit the tailor where I was having some clothes sewn. They showed her their machines and told her a little bit about the schooling process. I wanted to find a school close by where we could register Anna and she told me that they had a program at BJ, the school down the street where we played soccer.


The next day, Harry met Anna and I at the school and we were able to register her for the tailoring program. The school fees for the program, materials, and uniform for the entire year totaled to a whopping $120. I couldn't believe it! The school officials processed the paperwork and gave me a receipt. Anna's face lit up with a smile from ear to ear. She was going to be a tailor! "So,  she starts in January?" I asked. "Oh no, she'll start next week," the teacher told me. I couldn't believe how smoothly everything had just fallen into place. One day Anna was a 17-year old soccer player feeling that her future looked dim and the next she was on her way to being a tailor.


As we left the school, we stopped to say a prayer for Anna and her future. We walked back to the port and Harry gave Anna his number. "Anna, you have to study hard and do your best because Becca is doing a lot to help you. And if you need anything, just call me. Think of me as your big brother!" I started to tear up a bit. I was so amazed that God had used me to impact Anna's life in such a big way! "Rebecca, I want to bless you," she told me. "Ok, then, you can make me a dress when you finish school," I told her.


It's amazing how God can use us when we open our eyes to see the need around us and step out to do something about it. I look forward to seeing Anna again someday and hearing how God uses her profession to bless others...I know that He has big plans for her life and I'm thankful that I could play one small part in the unfolding of those plans!

Anna and I on the dock during our last week in Freetown



Riding down the river

As the outreach has been winding down, I have began to evaluate the things on my "Sierra Leone Bucket List" that I have yet to do....A few friends had traveled around riding the local boats up the river and had great experiences, so I had made up my mind that I would add that to my list of things to do before I leave the country until I had my own boat adventure.


It was my last night working on the ward and several of my patients were going to be discharged the following day, so I was giving lots of hugs and saying my goodbyes. Then, it dawned on me that Abas, one of our long-term plastics patients who happens to be a fisherman, was heading to his village back up the river the following day. I asked if he would mind bringing me along with him to ride up the river and see his village. "Of course you can come," he responded excitedly. We talked about the details of the trip and made a plan for the following day. I was happy to take the journey with just Abas, but knew it would be more fun to bring some friends along. I told my roommate Mekenzie about my plans for the boat adventure and her face lit up. Kenzie is always up for a good adventure and she has a great appreciation for African culture, so I knew she'd be a great person to have along. I would've been completely satisfied to have just one friend along, but I was pleasantly surprised when my friends Karin and Lindsay asked if they could also join us.

The next day, Abas' son arrived at the ship in the late morning and we all set off for our adventure, not sure what to expect, but certain that it would be a great African adventure. We jumped into a poda-poda and were happily on our way. After about ten minutes, we stopped at the police station. Apparently, the driver of the poda didn't have a license. "That's why we like traveling in boats. We will not have problems with police on the river," Abas muttered with irriation in his voice.

We found a taxi and made our way to the ferry dock. It was much more run down than the dock where we usually take the ferry across to the airport. We passed through the rubble and tried to avoid the calls of the men hanging out on the dock, holding tightly to our belongings as we passed. We paid our fees, took our life jackets (which we were surprised to receive) and found a place among the many passengers that were already inside the boat. We had a fairly comfortable ride sitting on the edge of the boat as we traveled across the water to Lungi, our first stop. When we got to Lungi, we were greeted by several of Abas' family members. Abas and his sister broke out into tears over their joy in being reunited after many months. He made sure that we met his family members and lots of other friends that he had there. We were eager to get on the next boat, as four white girls was attracting a lot of attention. We finally were told that our boat had arrived as Mekenzie was turning down a marriage proposal. Relieved, we started walking towards the boat.

Next thing we knew, we were all being picked up off the ground by the passenger-carrying men. Since there was no dock, these men are hired to carry the passengers to the boats. But, instead of asking if we wanted to be carried across the water, they literally swept us off our feet (though we still weren't agreeing to any marriage proposals!) and carried us to the boat. We managed to find space amidst the people and luggage in the crowded boat and attempted to get comfortable for the ride up the river.

Kenzie being carried to the boat

The ride was long, but beautiful and peaceful. Along the way to Abas' village, we made multiple stops. Sometimes it was to drop off passengers and other times it was to get something to eat. We were all very entertained by the African version of a fast food "drive-in window." They would pull the boat up along the side of the village dock, as a bunch of people rushed out, carrying platters of fish, fried plantains, and other African foods. Passengers would quickly hand their money out the side of the boat in exchange for the African delicacies and a few minutes later we would be back on our way.

Karin & Kenzie in our crowded boat

Lindsay and I on the other side of the boat

It seemed that Abas had a friend in every single village we visited along the way. He would point to the person and wave, then point to us and say "Mercy Ships" and show off his new shoulder with a smile from ear to ear. There were A LOT of stops along the way, but it was really nice seeing other parts of Sierra Leone that I'd never seen before.

Abas was very excited for the trip home

By the time we were nearing the village next to Port Loco where Abas lives, it was dark and the only light that remained was the light coming from a nearby mine. We made it to the village and were taken to Abas' home. He had not told his family that he was coming home, so they were all very surprised and excited to see him! They sat the four of us down on benches and for several long moments, they all just stared at us. Later we learned that most of the children had never seen white people. Instead of pointing and shouting "apoto, apoto" like most of the kids in Sierra Leone tend to do, they just sat and stared at us with wide eyes.

We struggled to communicate with the people, as most of them spoke Temne instead of Krio. Abas was walking around the village with other long-lost friends and we sat there awkwardly, not sure what to do next. Then a woman came along named Kadiatu. She was a pregnant momma, very lively, and our saving grace. She was able to speak Krio and Temne, so we were able to communicate with her quite well. Kadiatu decided to sing a Temne song for us and all the people standing there joined in. Next thing we knew, we were singing a Krio song for them! The songs continued back and forth for about twenty minutes and the awkwardness was broken. The children were smiling and laughing and we were enjoying every minute of it. Music always has a way of bringing people together! That night, the four of us snuggled into one small bed and I said a prayer that the giant spider on the wall wouldn't attack us in the middle of the night! Thankfully, it was gone in the morning and we were all ok!

Kadiatu and myself in the village

The next morning, we were happy to see that the first thing that Abas did was get out his supplemental Promod drink for his wound healing. But, he decided he needed to let his friends try the drink as well....Next thing you know, they were all taking shots of Promod from his medicine cup. TIA. We all got a good laugh at that sight. 

We were given a tour of the village and they showed us how they make palm oil using small boat for the process. One of the women also showed us a plant that they use to treat malaria. It's kind of amazing how much they do with all of the natural resources that God has provided!

Later that morning, our okadas (motorcycle taxis) arrived and we started our journey back to the ship. It was supposed to be a shorter journey by land, but it turned out to be almost 6 hours (nearly as long as the boat ride)...the trip started on some narrow roads winding through tall grass...definitely more exciting than riding through the city! We made it to the open roads and drove through the beautiful countryside. It reminded me a lot of the trips we had taken upcountry in Togo.

At one point, we had to cross the river in a small boat. There weren't enough seats, so they cut down a palm branch and measured out a new seat for Lindsay right there. It was pretty cool to watch how innovative they are here.

Once we got across, we got into a taxi, which broke down about five minutes into the trip. We got out some cards and started playing a game on the side of the road while we waited for the taxi problems to be resolved. Soon enough, we were back on our way and made it into Waterloo. From there, we took a Poda Poda and finally reached the ship after about six hours of traveling! In spite of all the craziness of our travels, I have to say that it was one of my favorite trips of my time in Sierra Leone and I was thankful I could share it with such great friends!