Sunday, October 19, 2014

An update from Nick

Considering that we are half way through our time here in Galmi, I (Nick) wanted to give a quick update from my perspective as Michaela has been doing much of the writing for our blog. I wanted to share a story and give a synopsis of my usual days. We have been really challenged as a family and I have been challenged personally as a husband, father, and physician here. Everything is different. Raising children and connecting with Michaela have had to take on a completely new appearance. I had never seen a case of malaria, typhoid, or severe “kwashiorkor” malnutrition before coming here and these are the “bread and butter” diseases here. I can think of one or two children that died on our pediatrics service in Wichita with our most intensive care. Here with the medicine that we are able to provide, children come in gasping for what seems to be their last breath and miraculously most of them get better. Death is a very harsh reality here that I have not seen the likes of before – nearly every day there is at least one of the patients that I had some role in their care that dies.

One of the things that we are learning that bridges the gap for us and we have had to rely on heavily is listening to the Spirit. Our sense of this need has been heightened with everything that has been new, different, and difficult. Though, truly living in the Spirit is and was a huge need we had even before we came to a new land. We actually had a chance to share some of our thoughts at last week’s church service here on the compound. The missionaries take turns leading the service each week, including the short termers. It was a great chance to think back and reflect on the time we have spent here as well as what comes next for us here as well as in our future. Below I mention one of the stories that I thought a lot about while preparing what we shared.

My usual day starts at about 8 am, rounding on the admitted patients in the hospital. There are 5 wards that are divided up between the children, men, women, isolation, and “intensive care” units. I have been rounding on about 20-25 patients a day and here this takes only about 2 hours! I then get a morning break from 10-10:30 and then have clinic for either adults or children. The clinics are always overflowing with people who come from hours away to get care. When I ask people why they come, they say it is the best care in the region and they trust the care and medicines that they get here. I generally get a lunch break from 1-3 pm and finish clinic at about 6:30 pm. I am on call about every 3rd or 4th day and in the evenings of my call I also usually take any of the C-sections that come in.
The compound we live on is directly connected to the hospital and the main road runs straight to our house. One of my favorite parts of the day is finishing exhausted from a full day at the hospital and beginning to walk down the road to find Charlie tootling towards me as fast as he can or Moriah running and yelling “daddy, daddy!” as they see me on my way.

I often have patients that I admit at the end of the day that I have to wonder if they will be alive in the morning. One of those patients was a little 3 year old girl (same age as Moriah) named Aliyah. She came to the clinic and had malaria with a superimposed pneumonia. She had a hematocrit (blood level) of 8 when normal is in the mid 30s from the breakdown of her blood cells by her malaria infection. I was unable to awaken her and she was limp with her eyes rolled back in her head. Her oxygen saturation which should be more than 90% was in the 60s and 70s. We do not have ventilators here but in the intensive care unit called the “uche” here we do have oxygen concentrators that can deliver up to 6 Liters of oxygen by a nasal cannula.

I ran her up to the uche and got oxygen on her, started her on antibiotics and antimalarials, and got her mother to get a family member to donate blood for her – the lab here has a blood bank that is a huge benefit to treatment but in order to get blood you have to have someone give a unit first. In the US she would be on a ventilator, seeing every intensivist in the hospital, getting 30 lab tests a day, and vital signs every 10 minutes. She would have tubes sticking out of every opening measuring everything that is measurable. Here she got transfused blood, 3 lab tests, antibiotics, and a little bit of oxygen. She laid on a bed with 2 other babies also needing oxygen – no such thing as single rooms, or often single beds for that matter!

This is the reality of most of my days, and many of my patients… And remember this is what the people here know to be the best care available, and truthfully I take pride in the care that we are able to give even with little resources!

Not being able to be a micromanager of care, monitor levels hourly, and give advanced treatment can be a really frustrating thing to a physician who knows what is available in other places. But it leaves much more recognition for me to be aware of the need for the Lord through his Spirit to intervene in and through us. When I would usually ask for more tests or a consult, I am left with prayer and asking the Spirit “what does this patient need that You can show me or You can do?” I am also reminded that it should not be my last resort, but rather my first.

Being left with nothing else to rely on except the Spirit that lives in us is actually a wonderful place to be. In John 7:37b-39 Jesus said: “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” Through belief in Jesus we are filled ourselves with living water (the Spirit) and have the ability to spill over onto others.

So I came back the next morning and was with one of the translators. We came to the uche and I saw Aliyah. I was surprised she was alive, but she did not look good and was still limp and not responding. I watched for 3-4 minutes for any evidence of breathing and there was none. I pulled out my stethoscope and put it on her chest. Her heart was beating about 70 times per minute which is too slow for a 3 year old. I looked at the translator and said I think she is going to die. He agreed.

Usually there is little benefit to “bagging” a patient here with a mask as we are unable to ventilate them for long periods of time, but I thought we might as well try. I bagged her giving supplemental breaths for 5-6 minutes and then watched again for what seemed like an eternity for signs of breathing. The mother (who likely can’t read or tell time and has no idea how old she is or when her children’s birth dates are) was looking at me bewildered but there was a sense that she knew that it was not going to end well. I told the translator that there were no more medical treatments that we could do for the patient and that she was going to die. People experience so much pain and difficulty here that they don’t cry and generally don’t mourn outwardly. The mother had some tears in her eyes and was clearly preparing herself for the worst.

The mothers here all carry their babies on their backs as Michaela has talked about and shown pictures of in the previous blogs. All babies get carried out of the hospital on their mother’s back, regardless of whether they are alive or dead. This has been one of the most emotionally difficult things for me to watch in the hospital – a mother pick up her limp, deceased child and place him or her on her back, tie them on with a piece of cloth and leave the hospital to return to their village with a dead child. Only then to be greeted by a life of other sick and malnourished children, back breaking work, and no hope that comes from the creator and sustainer of life.

The translator, who doesn’t know the Lord personally yet, said why don’t you pray. Of course! It's sad that I have to be reminded again of the living water in me that my translator had seen at work and knew had power. I prayed for her to be healed and if she was not, that her mother would be comforted and through this time their family would come to know the Lord. And I left her there, not breathing at all.

The Lord does some pretty awesome things here, but this was the most awesome I have seen. I came back the next morning and she was awake, sitting in bed breathing on her own. The mother was ecstatic showing me how she was alive and breathing. I asked her through my translator if she remembered what happened and she retold the story. I told her I was thankful to God, that my medicines were not the thing that healed her and that the God who heals wanted her daughter to live and be healed physically, but more importantly to give them a new heart and a new Spirit. She listened eagerly with a smile from ear to ear. Every time I came back into the ward she greeted me with a raised fist above her head (reserved for those who hold authority) and a smile.

Here is a picture of Aliyah and her mother.  

One of the wives of the surgeons here who Michaela has written about before went up to see them in the hospital and took a picture book to explain the gospel to them in Hausa because she could not read. I discharged the little girl alive and much improved soon thereafter.

In Ezekiel 36 God says that the “nations will know that I am the Lord” and the means for accomplishing this is that he gives those who follow him heart transplants, replacing our heart of stone with a heart of flesh, and also giving us His Spirit inside us to be life to us. Seeing the nations come to know God is why we are here doing this fellowship and training for the future. It is so wonderful to be filled with His Spirit! Oh, that we would abide in him more fully and have a more complete union with him. He does awesome things and is at work in us.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Holiday Celebrations

*This post is a couple days late because of slow internet...*

Today is a holiday in Niger, actually in all this religious culture. Our beloved story of Abraham and his son on Mount Moriah is not simply a random one in a string of stories in the Old Testament of the Bible. While the story has special significance for us because of Moriah’s pregnancy story (written here), it is actually a pinnacle story for understanding God’s plan for bringing us back to Himself. The people here remember the story this weekend during Eid al-Adha, “Feast of the Sacrifice.” They literally slaughter a lamb to celebrate Abraham’s willingness to listen and obey God. Since they are celebrating this holiday right now, I wanted to write a little more about the significance of Abraham on Mount Moriah. Since this holiday is as big a deal as Christmas is to us, the story must hold some significance, right?

Remember that Mount Moriah is a descriptive story, it describes. It is not a prescriptive story, it doesn’t tell us what to do. This idea helps me to address my own question of “How is it okay for God to ask Abraham to put his son to death as an offering to him?” In other areas of the Old Testament, God clearly articulates His hatred for the fact that some people, in their total wickedness, offered their children as sacrifices. So, by including Abraham’s story in the Bible, God is in no way implying we should follow suit by sacrificing our kids. He wants us to know that He asked Abraham to do something very significant, and that Abraham obeyed.

So… God says to Abraham, “take your son… your only son, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering” (Genesis 22:2). God says He knows Abraham loves his son. God also points out Isaac is his only son. Abraham and his wife, Sarah, were childless into their late, late years. To prove to them that He could make something out of nothing, God tells Abraham he will have a huge number of descendants. God will uniquely bless these descendants, and God will use these descendants as a tool to bless the whole world. God tells Abraham that through Sarah, his barren wife, he will become a father of many.  You know the song? Father Abraham, had many sons, and many sons had Father Abraham. God promises Sarah will have a son named Isaac. And God says Isaac will inherit the promised blessing as well as the responsibility of being a blessing.

Abraham may have had some deliberations about God’s astounding request, but all we know is that “Abraham rose early in the morning… and went to the place of which God had told him” (verse 3). He lays the firewood on Isaac to carry, and Abraham carries the knife and the tools for the fire. Isaac asks Abraham where the lamb is for the sacrifice… “God will provide for himself the lamb,” Abraham answers. So up the mountain walks Abraham and his son, his only son, whom he loves, carrying wood on his back. Sound familiar?

At the top of the mountain, Abraham lays down the wood, puts Isaac on top of it and takes the knife in his hand to kill his son. “Abraham! Abraham!” says an angel of the Lord. “Stop! I know you trust and revere God because you even gave him your only son” (a paraphrase of verse 12). Abraham looks up. What does he see? A male lamb is caught in a bush. So Abraham offers the lamb instead. In the post about Moriah’s birthday, I summarized our commentary of this story as “God will provide for us what He is asking from us.” What He asks from us is so much greater than energy and strength and patience and love to care for a special needs child we thought we were having. He asks from us total obedience, for us to always do what He says is good and to avoid what He says is bad. He is our Father, so He knows what is best for us. He knows we don’t always understand why it’s best. Still, He asks us to listen to Him on the premise that He is God and we are not. Sadly, we often don’t listen. We don’t believe that He is God and He knows best. This failure to listen, failure to trust? That’s our sin. It’s a problem. It separates us from God. When we are eternally separated from God? That’s hell. A scary place to be sure.

Some people might not see it as a problem. “Sin and hell are what religious people use to scare people into coming to church or doing ‘good things,’” some  say. If you are one of those people, that excuse may work for awhile.  But I’m going to venture... that someday you will be nagged with the sneaking, but unshakable, suspicion that you are, in fact, estranged from the God who formed the universe, the God knows everything about you.

Okay, it’s a problem. This sin. This not listening. What can I do about it? Go to church more? Do more good things? That’s what many people here are doing. They learn that praying, that following standards of not eating pork, that sharing with the poor, that all these duties will take care of their sin problem and restore their relationship to the God who made them. In fact, they are so convinced they have a problem that separates them from God they spend a weekend physically killing a lamb and eating it together in order to make themselves right with God.

We’ve read that before the sacrifice someone writes a list of people’s names on a piece of paper. They slaughter the lamb in order to wipe away the sins of the people on that paper. Are they confident the blood of a simple bleating lamb actually takes care of this huge problem? I don’t think so. I think that’s why dozens of people here are hungry for words of truth about how to mend our relationship with God. Just this last weekend, a local religious leader invited a Nigerien hospital worker and his wife to a large mosque in the region to teach children about the way to God. Why would they ask a Christian to teach in a place where they learn about their own religion? I think they ask because they are keenly aware of their estrangement from God and are hungry to have this problem fixed.

So again, what can we do about our sin problem? God will provide for us what He is asking from us! Did you catch what God was giving a “sneak preview” of with Abraham and Isaac? The son, the only son, the beloved son, carrying the wood on his back, up the mountain, as a sacrifice. It’s Jesus. The sacrifice of Isaac was a preview for Jesus! The Father, who gives up His son? Who would dare ask a Father to give up a Son? God gave up His Son, voluntarily. Jesus carried His cross up that hill, voluntarily. He went through with it. There was no lamb that day. Jesus was the lamb. The Lamb of God. When Isaac asked about the lamb, Abraham confidently responded, “God will provide for himself the lamb.” God required a lamb’s blood for our sin, but clearly no animal was good enough. So what did He do? He required it, and He supplied it. He took on human flesh, walking in the perfection He required of us. And then he offered himself as the Lamb, shedding his own blood, washing away the dirtiest of our sins and making us as white as snow. He provided for us what He asked from us. Sure, we go to church. Sure, we do ‘good things.’ But we don’t do them to make ourselves right with God. We do them because God has made us right with Himself, and now we want to enjoy this closeness with Him.

That’s why we’re in Niger. We are amazed that God has been so kind as to make us right with Him, and we enjoy being close with Him. Truthfully, we enjoy being close with Him more than anything else we ever enjoy. And we know people all over the world are hungry to be close with Him as well. So if Nick coming across the world to give medical care helps some people understand even a hint of the great lengths God went to in bringing us back to Himself, then our time here is valuable. And we believe that is happening. Nick got to pray for a little girl last weekend and ended up seeing a miracle. I’ll leave you hanging and let him write about it in the next post :) 

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Pictures 2

And some more...



Mo and her best bud Jonathan reading and playing in Charlie's pack and play. That's his blue mosquito net hanging from the ceiling. Sorry, buddy. Yes, you are sleeping in a pink crib :(


Charlie loves Hausa food!  I try to feed him toast or a muffin for breakfast, but if he sees Anna's food, he reaches for that instead. Anna calls Charlie, "Buh How She," which means a Hausa boy.


Reading books in Moriah's "princess" bed, which is how we get her to sleep under the mosquito net. As above, Charlie is almost always just in his diaper while we're inside the house.


Our usually friendly, but very annoying, new house guests called earwigs. The compound gets an invasion every year at harvest time and our house has some nice entry points unfortunately. Thankfully, they haven't made homes in our bed, but they love any dark, slightly damp place, such as under drying dishes or inside hanging towels. Lovely! We have been vigorously spraying a child-safe pesticide permethrin and using a powder form available in the village to try and minimize the pests. I could easily sweep up this many critters in our bedroom most mornings even if I've swept before bed. They last several weeks, but we see an end in sight! They aren't around forever.


Making forts with Daddy at lunch time!  Most days, Nick is able to come home for coffee break from 10-10:30am and then lunch from 1-3pm. His work hrs are usually 8-6:30, not including call (every 3-4 days). He is busy, and work is intense, but we like seeing him a few times throughout the day!

Friday, October 3, 2014

Pictures

Sadly, our internet has been extremely slow for the last several weeks, which makes texting and sharing pictures with many of you difficult, and phone calling virtually impossible. Here is a slew of fun pictures I thought you may enjoy.

Anna brought her boy over to play one of the days she was working. He had fun playing with the kiddos!


Moriah playing hide and seek in a Nigerien basket


Not a maternity shirt... just tailor made so if you get the front dirty you can turn it around and wear it again the next day without washing it :)


Matching outfits!


Charlie surprised us one night with his stack of blocks. This little bird mouth has replaced his permagrin as his favorite expression.


I finally "backed" my baby right.


Nick's triplets!  All healthy.

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Surprise!

No, we’re NOT pregnant! :)

Nick had a fun surprise last week at work. The OB here gave him a C-section to do on his own after doing his quota of supervised ones. Per ultrasound, the mom was expecting twins! Nick delivered one, then two, and went to deliver the placenta. He was surprised to find yet another hand down there… “Don’t leave me in here!” the third baby waved. The mom was beyond thrilled. Niger, for some reason, has one of the highest rates of multiple births. 

The kids and I went to meet the mom and babes last weekend at the hospital. My guess is if a mom in America found out at delivery she was having not twins, but triplets, she would need some serious time to adjust her expectations accordingly before she was legitimately excited for what lay ahead. This mom, and the grandmother, were thrilled. There was no hint of “Wow, we have a lot of work ahead of us.” Triplets were cause for major celebration! The same celebratory reaction came from our house help, Anna, when I told her about Nick's surprise delivery.

I may wear glasses tinted with “I’m-a-mother-of-two-small-kids-both-in-diapers-and-my-husband-is-busy-and-I’m-really-ready-to-fall-apart-the-minute-my-kids-fall-asleep,” but I definitely get the feeling in America people tend to have something similar to pity on mothers of small children, especially mothers with more than one. “Wow, you must be busy!” or “Get ready, it only gets busier!”

When people see me with kids here, their sentiment seems nothing but congratulatory. “Wow, you are so fortunate! Look at those kids!” In the mornings, Moriah and Charlie and I are accompanied by our dear friends. The youngest, Jonathan, is with us most of the morning, and his older sister, Sarah, after kindergarten gets out. The more kids I have with me, the happier the reaction from Nigeriens who see us. Maybe it’s a cultural difference due to an expectation that children will provide for parents in old age. Maybe it’s due to the fact that so many mothers lose children to malaria, typhoid, or other illnesses. Maybe life is pretty monotonous, and kids are one of the few distractions from the daily grind… even if they add to it. 

Whatever the reason, being in Galmi is a fun reminder that so many people do see children, and lots of them, as a huge blessing from the Lord (or whatever their understand of God is). In the thick of potty training and weaning my almost 18-month-old who still nurses like it’s going out of style, I’m so not ready to start nursing and diapering all over again. We have loved adding a couple of (potty-trained!) kiddos to our house in the mornings though. I am seeing how my kids thrive with more playmates. Moriah and Jonathan are nearly inseparable. Even in evening hours if they see each other outside, they quickly run to each other and pick up their game of shooting lions with sticks. (Yes, our diva princess Moriah is picking up some boy adventure games…) Moriah’s pretending has sky-rocketed to a whole new level as she learns from Sarah who is great at playing house and directing the toddlers in games. 



Here is Moriah telling Jonathan and Charlie about how to play store in the “cantry” - 
she can’t quite figure out the “p” sound in this word.

We’re actually having so much fun I have had some fleeting thoughts of having a mock pre-school with some of our friends when we get home. Maybe we’ll try adding another one to our family instead… much to grandmas’ delight. Or maybe I’ve drank too much coffee and as soon as the kids wake up from naps, I’ll regret even writing this ;) 


Children naturally bring fullness to family life. Busy fullness, yes, but fullness indeed. And, really, that’s what I crave. Not ease, not simplicity necessarily, but fullness. I still really like when our table is wiped off and our floors are clean and our toys are put away. But more and more, I like watching my kids be kids. And I love watching my kids grow in their love for God and others. Moriah sometimes gets freaked out by wind, even gentle wind. We had a nice breeze today, which scared her, but she really wanted to go outside to a new “adventure” spot and have a tea party. So after she packed up her things in her bag, she says, “Okay, Jonathan, let’s go! And let’s pray to Father God to keep me safe from the wind so we can have our tea party!” Melts my heart…

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Happy Birthday Moriah! (and a mini-sermon from yours truly)

We got to celebrate our sweet little girl turning 3 on Monday!  Most of the time I can’t imagine life without Moriah and Charlie, but sometimes I look at our kids and think “What? How do we all of sudden have two other human beings that we’ve kept alive for this long?” Ha! 

No surprises that Moriah’s birthday theme was Minnie Mouse. We had a day FULL of celebrating! When Moriah woke up, she looked around at some pre-made Minnie decorations hanging on the walls and ceiling. “It looks just like Mickey Mouse clubhouse!” It melted my heart and was a great start to the day. We also got to open a sack of minnie toys I hadn’t brought out yet from home. “These are just like the ones from the yellow house!” was another line I want to remember. Everyone at the hospital and at the school has coffee/snack break at 10am, so we had a short birthday party for Moriah’s friends younger friends. 



For dinner we had Anna’s family over for dinner and Parker’s translator and friend. I ordered a big pot of rice and sauce from a village woman ahead of time. Anna brought her husband, son, and her husband’s twin. (We had been told if you ever meet a Harry or a Henry you know they are a twin. We were amused to learn that Anna’s husband is Henry and his twin brother is Harry. Apparantly, girl twins have standard names here as well.) Rain was imminent, so unfortunately Anna’s family had to leave quickly so they wouldn’t get stuck in the mud roads. We were disappointed we didn’t get to share Moriah’s story with them, but we loved having them in our home for a short time.




After dinner was finished, some more school-aged friends came over for cupcakes. Moriah’s face when she saw the cake was priceless! “Oh goodness! It’s so cute!” 




If you’re ever looking for a frosting recipe using granulated sugar (because powdered sugar is expensive and hard to find in many countries), this one was delicious. Parker’s friend made up a special birthday song just for Moriah. He has a wonderful voice, and him singing to her was a moment we will treasure.

And, finally, Nick shared Moriah’s story. Before her first birthday, we decided her birthday tradition would be to tell the story of her name… 

Back when I was pregnant with Moriah, we had just bought a house in Wichita and were driving back and forth between Wichita and Iowa City working on our new house and preparing to move. On May 10, we headed back to Iowa City one last time to get our “gender reveal” ultrasound, get Nick graduated from medical school, and move our apartment down to Wichita. We made it back to Iowa City with minutes to spare before the ultrasound appointment, totally exhausted. Nick had nearly pulled an all-nighter tiling our new kitchen floor.

Nick knew the ultrasound tech, and many of the physicians, since he completed his medical training at the hospital. They talked while she performed the ultrasound, and we were thrilled to find out we were having a baby girl. Soon, however, she became quiet. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes,” she said. After awhile, she returned with 3 or 4 other people with her, one of whom was the maternal-fetal medicine specialist (doctor who specializes in problems with pregnancy). They did some more ultra sounding before they FINALLY started talking. 

“Your daughter has what we call a splayed cerebellum. It’s characteristic of a syndrome called Dandy-Walker.” Basically, the back part of her brain wasn’t connected right. In a way, there was a piece missing. They went on to explain that Dandy-Walker ranges in seriousness, some people have minor disabilities, some people have major ones. “Some parents with a child with this condition would terminate the pregnancy, and we can certainly help you with that option if you would like.” We explained that wasn’t a consideration for us and asked a few more questions about Dandy-Walker. 

“Is there any chance that what you’re seeing isn’t actually Dandy-Walker?” I specifically remember asking. 

“No, there is no chance. This is what Dandy-Walker is.”

Nick and I went home to think and cry and process. We prayed, hardly knowing what to say. As days went on, we prayed for her brain to be healed, but mostly, we prayed that God would enable us to love the perfect little girl HE was giving to us. One night Nick was reading Genesis 22 where God asks Abraham to sacrifice his son, his only son, Isaac. This story has so much significance! (Please remember this story is descriptive: it describes. It is not prescriptive: it doesn’t tell us we should do the same.) Isaac was not only loved as a son, but Abraham’s future depended on Isaac: God had told him so! God had promised Abraham ten chapters earlier that God would bless Abraham by giving him many descendants and that through Abraham's descendants, all the world would be blessed. And God promised Abraham that Isaac would be the descendant that would get things rolling. As Nick read the story, I resonated so much with Abraham. What God was asking him to do seemed like a major sacrifice, the ultimate sacrifice, but Abraham believed God was good and would keep His promises. Abraham still believed God would bless him. At the top of the mountain, Abraham has his knife raised to slay his son.

“Abraham! Abraham!” an angel shouted. “Do not lay your hand on the boy…for now I know that you fear God…” Abraham looked over and there was a male sheep caught in a bush. So Abraham offered up the lamb instead. And he called the mountain “The Lord will Provide.” The mountain’s name is Moriah.

I would be lying if I said we had come to the point of total acceptance of God’s not-so-perfect, perfect gift to us. BUT He did give us an unwavering conviction that His gift of this little girl was indeed a blessing, and that she was for our good, even if her needs required all we could give and more. We knew that God would provide for us the very thing he was asking from us. He was asking for selflessness, patience, love, stamina, and perseverance. And we didn’t have enough of those things to last very long, but we believed He would give us more… more patience, more energy, more love. Trembling, we continued to walk up our own mountain believing He would provide what we didn’t have. We believe, Lord, help us in our unbelief.

Four weeks after the first ultrasound, we went back for another. The ultrasound tech looked around for awhile, and once again, told us she would be right back. She came back with another doctor or two who did some more looking.

“Well… her brain is perfectly normal. The piece that was ‘missing' on the first ultrasound is right there.”

.....?!?!?......!?!?!?......!??!?!?!

We continued to talk, and she explained possible reasons for them clearly not seeing it the first time and clearly seeing it the second time. Her explanations are perfectly legitimate, but they don’t really matter. What mattered was this:
  1. When our faith in God’s goodness was tested, He gave us more faith to believe that whatever He gives us is for our good. He provided for us what He was asking from us. Praise be to Him!
  2. Darkness is as light to him. What should have been white on the first ultrasound was dark. He isn’t bound by what we can or cannot see, or by what is 100% chance or 0% chance. He will do what He will do.
Our mountain story had a short timeline before we saw God’s amazing provision of complete healing. I know many people whose mountain is much higher and longer and more difficult than ours. They wait until heaven before they see God’s provision of healing. One friend in particular comes to mind. Doctors said her baby would maybe make it through childbirth. Today she rejoices she has a daughter who is alive at four years old, but she still climbs her mountain of having a daughter with disabilities. And she climbs this mountain rejoicing in God’s provision now - her daughter’s life - and in His provision to come - a new body in heaven that won’t be limited by soft bones!

The Lord will Provide has been my anthem here. Life is hard. It is hot. And when it is hot I still have to wear a skirt to my ankles, a head wrap, and a scarf around my shoulders. And I have kids who are hot. And not pottying in toilets. And then I think about the moms who are watching another child suffer from malaria - the kids' life in question. Or the farmers working hard in the hot sun to make a few dollars on onions and feed their families the same meals everyday - boiled flour balls with some onion and chili peppers. 

Sometimes, God provides a way out - an unexpected lamb, a cool evening because of rain, a healed malaria child. Often times, though, He simply provides the faith to trust He indeed has our good in mind. He doesn't remove the mountain; He asks us to climb it and provides the energy to keep following Him up the path. And one day, what He will provide will make our mountain journey worthwhile. A favorite song lyric from Caedmon’s Call... “Is this the strange feeling of you working all for good? ...We had to walk the rocks to see the mountain view…This is the lead of love.” After all, Jesus’ path to His new body and new life led him up to Calvary. When he says, “Follow me,” should we expect, as Christians, to skip our cross and head straight for streets of gold? Our pain may not be fair... was Jesus's?

Paul, who was super respected as a Jewish leader and who punished people for being Christians, had an encounter with the risen Jesus that changed his life forever. He ended up traveling all over to tell people who hadn’t heard about Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. In this process, he was beaten and jailed. He wrote the book of Philippians in jail. And in it he says (my paraphrase) “everything I had that once used to bring me respect and power I now count it as bringing me harm compared to what I have now that I know Christ.” He says that from jail. And then he says, “I want to know Christ…becoming like Him in His death, and so, somehow to have new, full life like Jesus” (my paraphrase at the end). Our suffering, our whatever-is-hard-about-our-lives-in-this-world, is what God uses to bring us to the end of ourselves, to our spiritual death, so that we can better be like His son. His son who suffered unfair punishment, spiritually and physically coming to the end of himself, in order that God might raise him from the dead through His Holy Spirit. And He did! On the third day He rose again.

And this same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead works in us when we follow Jesus. When we come to the end of ourselves and put ourselves in God’s care, trusting Him to provide whatever He sees best, His Spirit gives life to our deflated spirit. He raises us up from the dead so to speak. Nick and I believed He would do this in giving us a special needs child, and we know He will do this as Nick tirelessly cares for hurting people. And... so we don’t think our “suffering” has to look super noble or important, I believe He will do this with me as I continue to potty train my 3-year-old with no end in sight. I don’t want to compare cleaning up potty messes in a well-built house with running water to living in a mud hut with potty messes running out a hole in the wall, but I also don’t want to minimize the real moments of my life that are hard. I don’t want to dramatize them, but I don’t want to minimize them… because God uses them to bring me to the end of myself so I can place myself in His care and let His Spirit fill my own deflated one.

There are two kinds of suffering people. One, you are experiencing the day-in, day-out, never-ending demands of life. They are hard, and they zap your energy. They may not compare to what others are enduring, but they make your spirit tired. Don't waste this suffering. It's what God has for YOU. Let Him use it to bring you to the end of yourself and trust in His care. Two, you are going through more difficulty than seems fair for one person to endure. You cannot imagine how a God who is good would let this struggle or tragedy happen in your life. Would God take away someone else's life just to teach you a lesson? No. A resounding no. I don't have explanations. I do have this... God is crazy amazing compassionate: He cares. (Exodus 34:6, Exodus 3:7, Psalm 103). God's ways are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8-9). We cannot pretend to explain or understand all the injustices in the world, but we can know God became human and voluntarily subjected himself to cruel suffering in order to offer us life. And we can take our honest questions to Him. He is not scared of them.


Ann Voskamp wrote a popular book called One Thousand Gifts. On a certain podcast I can't remember, she says, “His good gifts are forever. His hard gifts are for our good. His best gifts are yet to come.” Amen. The truly good moments? As we follow Jesus, we will enjoy ones like them forever. The hard moments? God uses them in ways we cannot understand - one being to help us trust Him more. The best moments? We can only imagine. Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Our dear friend

I mentioned our dear friend, Anna, who comes to work at our house. She has become so dear to us! I was told I can post pictures of her on our blog, so I want to share her sweet face with you all!


We were walking to the tailor to order our dresses and Moriah asked to ride on Anna's back. We ended up dropping Moriah off at the rehab center to play with a sweet little girl who is receiving therapy for severe burns.


Charlie loves playing on the little trike our friends graciously let us play with. The trike doesn't go anywhere, Charlie just crawls on and off of it and is as happy as can be. Anna is washing her clothes in the shade. The hospital put in a well decades ago when they built the hospital. The villagers buy their water and have to carry it or have it delivered to their house in large barrels. People who work on the compound often ask if they can do their laundry at their employer's house after they finish with their day's work. We are happy to let Anna do this.

Missionaries on the compound are very careful with waste since the people who work for us never waste food. We were told to always offer waste to our house help. Even if she doesn't need it, she likely knows someone who does. For example, I bought nine pounds of beef on Wednesday from a local butcher. It's the kind used for ground beef, but it doesn't come ground. Before it can be cooked, it has to be washed, trimmed, cut into chunks, and ground. I asked Anna to wash, trim, and cut it up for me. I offered her all the trimmings. Most of it is fascia and gristle with some small pieces of meat. She was very happy to have it. If I ask her to buy me laundry soap in town, or some onions, I will often either give her the change or give her a bar of soap or an onion from the bag, which is what the missionaries here have encouraged us to do.

We love having her in our home. She always takes her morning coffee break with us, and this has become a fun part of our routine. We give her some coffee, and she has taught us how to make it Hausa style - lots of milk and sugar! She shares what she brings for breakfast (usually fried dough from beans or boiled flour dumplings with an onion sauce) and we share what we have (usually toast with peanut butter and jelly or granola and yogurt). We chat a little: our Hausa is coming along! And we use LOTS of hand gestures. Charlie usually likes Anna's Hausa breakfast... Moriah not so much :)

Moriah's birthday is on Monday, so we have invited Anna and her husband and their "son" over for dinner and cake. Anna and her husband haven't been able to have children of their own, but it is common in Hausa culture for a relative to give a couple a child if they have not had one. The reason I put son in quotations is because the first time I asked Anna if she had any children, she answered "no" and motioned that she was praying to God for a child. When someone was around later to translate, she explained she was given a son to help him through school.  This concept seems similar to adoption, but not the same, which is why I used quotations. For dinner we are also inviting Parker's good friend and translator at the hospital, Oscar. He has come over a couple times, and Moriah has taken to him very quickly! We look forward to having some conversation with Anna and her family since we will have a friend who can translate. 

We decided for Moriah's birthday tradition we will tell the story of her name each year. Parker's friend, Oscar, is a Muslim. He is familiar with Jesus since he translates at the hospital when doctors pray for patients or talk about the hope we have in Him. You may know that M's are familiar with the story of Abraham on Mount Moriah. They believe Abraham went up the mountain with Ishmael instead of Isaac. This may seem like a petty detail, but they descend from Ishmael and Jews descend from Isaac. We care that Jews descend from Isaac because God had promised Abraham He would bless the whole world through Abraham's descendants. This promise was fulfilled in Jesus, who descended from Isaac and who offers the hope of salvation to the whole world - whether Jewish or not! What God asks Abraham to do with his son, and then what God provides instead, on Mount Moriah is pretty significant. Please pray with us that Moriah's story will encourage Anna and her family who are Christians, and that God will use it to reveal truth about Jesus to Parker's friend, Oscar. We won't be mentioning the name of the son, just that he's Abraham's son, so as not to unnecessarily offend. But I'm hoping Moriah doesn't mention the name - she knows it! Or if she does, that it doesn't become a big deal. If you don't know the story of Moriah's name, I will tell it when I post about her birthday.



Saturday, September 6, 2014

Southern style

Parker has pretty much been a part of our family for awhile, but it has become more official since we've been in Niger. We eat most of our meals together, and the kids love having him around so often. He may be wearing out his welcome though when he brings all his Texas magazines and leaves them on our coffee table.... Go Huskers.

Black-eyed peas are one of the main grains around here, so I have been asking him how to cook them and looking up some Paula Dean recipes. He found okra the other day, so we decided to do a Southern style meal. The meal was almost spoiled... I went to soak the beans (which I realized you don't have to do with black-eyed peas) and at least half of them had little holes which tunnelled inwards and housed a little black bug.  Mmmm...  I asked around about whether this was normal. No, there usually aren't that many bugs, I must have gotten a bad batch :(  What was Nick's proposal? Just cook them up - what's a little extra protein?  So I did. They didn't taste any different, but I had a hard time eating a lot of them knowing what lay inside.  We have lots of leftovers, not sure whether they will get eaten or not :/


Greens and scrambled eggs, fried okra, spicy black eyes peas and cucumber salad



Parker has to miss family dinner tonight because he is hanging out with his translator, Oscar. They have developed a good friendship, and Parker invited him over for movie night at our house last week. When I asked Oscar where he was from, he replied "Jammal." Moriah said "Hey, We're the same! I live in Jammal too!" She sat on his lap for most of the night :) Oscar invited Parker to hang out at his house this afternoon with his girlfriend who is visiting. Oscar has been around the hospital for several years translating and has had good friendships with many people who are here or have been here. Others have mentioned that Oscar's demeanor has softened over the years, and we are believing that God is at work in his life. He has told a long-termer that something drew him to stay in Jammal, but he isn't sure what exactly it is. We think it is the Holy Spirit and are praying God uses his and Parker's friendship to show him more about Jesus.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

From Nick's perspective


Nick’s on call today. But right now, he’s up at the hospital giving blood. He got called in a few hours ago for an admission. He ended up having five patients come in. One of them was a kid who died from anemia waiting for blood. His hematocrit was 5 - probably means a hemoglobin of around 1. Normal hemoglobin is somewhere about 12-17. In the United States we usually give a blood transfusion once it gets down to 7. Death and suffering is so commonplace here. We usually end up talking about his day by focusing on what he’s learning or something new he was able to do with ultrasound. Here’s a few snippets he wrote in an email about life at the hospital. The email was to the director of the fellowship and the other fellows going abroad in January so it's pretty technical.

"They were really hurting for help when we got here and were really glad to have us. In looking back they were really gracious to let us have a couple days and the weekend to catch up before really getting thrown in. There is one pediatrician and one med/peds post residency fellow who had been the only medical doctors here for basically 2 months while one family was on furlogh. They were getting burned out seeing every kid and adult in both the outpatient and inpatient areas. 

I started out for the first week in the PMI which is their outpatient ward for kids <5 yrs. It is lots of empiric treatment of disease which has been a little difficult for me as we really rely on history and have very few definitive diagnostic studies. Labs we can get: CBC, HCT, ALT/AST, Na, K, Cr, CO2, urine dip, urine micro, thick smear (no thin smears), peripheral smear (for sickle cells and once they saw filaria!), sputums for TB, and HIV 1/2. They do stool exams but I think they are few and far between and there are no cultures done and little to no gram stains of anything. They have medical screeners that treat basic medical problems that are straight forward and then send everyone that is sick or complicated to us. Probably 60% of what we are seeing now is malaria in kids and it isn't even malaria season yet!! There are also lots of superficial skin infections with bullous impetigo, sickle cell crises, pneumonias, diarrhea/dysentery, dehydration (that gets really severe), and really crazy malnutrition. Any people that we admit from the clinic or while on call we take care of until we discharge them, which usually means rounding on 6-12 patients in the AM.

Cerebral malaria and seizures here are a conundrum. IV/IM diazepam and oral phenobarb are the only seizure meds that we have available currently. I had a kid seize for almost 24 hrs straight and couldn't get them to abort even with huge doses of diazepam and trying to give phenobarb by NG. It was the most frustrating thing that I have encountered here and I think took me from the "everything is interesting and fun" to "this sucks" pretty quickly. It was a good spot to be in to have to rely on the Lord and for Him to be sufficient for both me and the child.  If you have any extra IV anti-convulsants around in the US, send them this way as malaria season is coming...

The second week I moved to the OPD (adults and kids >5 yrs) and Parker moved to the PMI. The OPD is ultrasound heaven. I have loved learning and have really improved my skills in the one week I have been here. I have diagnosed with ultrasound: pneumonias, pneumothorax, pleural effusions, constrictive TB pericarditis, CHF, metastatic liver masses, perforated typhoid, gangrenous large bowel, bowel obstructions with perforation, ascites and liver failure, intussecption, splenomegaly, ovarian cysts, neurogenic bladder, hydronephrosis, BPH, Bladder masses, extremity abscesses, and probably more. I really love it and have enjoyed being able to have more of a definitive diagnosis for things in the OPD that I can diagnose with ultrasound. I have been surprised by the variety that we see there from hypertension and diabetes (?), filariasis, lots of TB, lots of typhoid, lots of malaria, some HIV, skin infections, one case of cutaneous leishmaniasis, asthma (that has nearly no treatment options here), etc. The x-rays I have seen here have been like none other too!! 

We have not got into the OB side of things yet but probably will soon now that we are getting more comfortable with the Med/Peds part."

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Let's go fly a kite

Nick got to use his father’s day present tonight. If you know Nick well, you know he’s in to weird things. So it makes sense that he wanted an air foil kite. For those of you like me who don’t know anything about kites, that means it has two strings to hold on to so your kite can do fancy tricks and stuff. We went out on the air strip before sunset to test the kite in the mild breezes we were getting. Nick went first and was quite impressive. He passed the handles off to me, and it took me all of about 3 seconds to crash it into a tree over the fence line. We realized we had an onlooker who ran over to help untangle the kite from her side of the fence. The air strip is between the compound to the south and millet fields to the north.



Curiosity got the best of her and she soon hopped over the fence to get a closer view. Nick insisted she get her hands on the strings for at least a bit. We also had a security guard who paused on his rounding duties to watch the beautiful kite and snap some pictures with his phone. We exchanged Hausa greetings. It was fun family time as well as a way to connect with a couple locals. 






Times like this I really miss my Thailand experience. I lived with a family and was immersed in the culture all the time. I had no need to find a way to practice language or connect with local people. I was surrounded by a foreign language and local people were the only ones around me. This immersion is the kind of missionary experience Nick and I have envisioned when we’ve talked and thought about missions. Don’t get me wrong. Life on the compound is nice in a lot of ways. And rural Thailand is more advanced than rural sub-saharan Africa. We have reliable running water in our sink: locals haul large plastic drums to and from a fill station.  We have sufficient electricity for lighting a 3-bedroom house, a full size refridgerator/freezer, computers, a microwave, a toaster oven, etc: locals who can afford it have electricity for a few lightbulbs and maybe a television and small refridgerator. We have a nice sewage and garbage burning system, enough said. We have all of our fancy bulk food items without constantly feeling the need to give them away to people who have little and buy food one meal at a time.

We also have a lady who sells delicious fresh fruit on the compound a couple times a week. If people buy too much to carry home, she kindly sends her daughter with them. Her daughter helped me carry a few things home. I asked her name, and she asked me mine and my kids’ names (usually I have them with me). When we got inside she was disappointed they were sleeping. A couple hours later, she came back with a peeled orange to share with the kids. She wanted to play with them. While we waited for them to wake up, she helped me finish the cooking and baking I was doing to get ahead. She washed all the muffin tins and every pot I had used. She was very sweet and so excited to play with Charlie when he woke up. 

It was a strange mix of feelings I had with her in the house. I was excited to have someone in the kitchen forcing me to scramble for the few Hausa words I knew and to quickly learn new ones. But I was embarrassed at all the food in our refrigerator and pantry. She probably thought I was baking for the masses because I made a couple dozen muffins. Most people in a culture of poverty are used to having enough to get by. They don’t think about buying in bulk or making a large batch and saving some. Even though it’s cheaper in the long run, it requires an investment, which they often don’t have. If they do have enough, they usually don’t buy in bulk anyways because everyone expects them to share. I saw this with Prang in Thailand. She would try to buy bulk items she and her kids used everyday. But whenever she would have a large case of, say, boxed milk, her nieces and nephews would grab some because the understanding was people ate what was available. If they didn’t have much, they went a little hungry. If they had more than enough, they shared. I hid my precious food items in a suitcase in my room so they didn’t disappear so quickly… which left me with a rotting mouse in my bag after a couple months. Sadly, I had to stop hoarding :(

Having the sweet girl around challenged my thinking. The idea of "incarnational living" is great and so important. How can we be like Paul in 1 Corinthians who became all things to all people, so that by all means he might save some? And of course like Jesus, who was himself God but took on flesh? How do we live among the people we are serving when we will never be just like our local neighbors? After seeing pictures of Nick's long hair, Nick's translator asked him why he cut it short. "Because I didn't want to stand out anymore than I already do," was his response. "But we know you're different than us. You're never going to be like us even if you cut your hair short," the translator replied. I think we can navigate how to do some things differently because they're cultural or helpful - like buying bulk cases of green beans because we can only get them in the capital and we really like them... or making large batches of muffins to save - without constantly feeling guilty about our plenty when others are in want.

Our Via Christi fellowship group discussed principles of giving and dealing with asking in cultures of poverty. We need to carefully consider our lifestyles in light of Jesus' clear teachings on generosity and money (give to everyone who begs from you, if someone takes your tunic give him your cloak too, don't store up treasures on earth but treasures in heaven). We also need to be careful not to make ourselves into "the God who provides" and not to rob people of the dignity of earning their own fair living, subtley telling them "you don't have what it takes to provide for a family."* Paul learned to be content living in plenty and in want. Did that mean when he had plenty everyone else did too so he didn't have anything to feel guilty about? Or that he gave it away until he had the same as everyone else? I don't know. But all this thinking about heavy stuff is clogging my brain. Kite flying was fun :)




*These ideas are core principles in the book When Helping Hurts by Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Runza night

Thanks to so many of you for all the encouraging texts and for everyone praying for us. I, Michaela, have been overwhelmed by support. God has given me heaping amounts of grace to have extra patience with the kiddos. The other night I realized when I thought about my kids the natural feelings I had towards them were often frustration or annoyance. At best my feelings were neutral. I had been thinking about them as bodies to take care of, as minions getting in the way of my packing, of my traveling smoothly, of my cooking, of my learning language. I couldn't even remember the last time I truly had fond feelings towards them. Maybe 3 weeks ago? This lack of enjoyment of my kids is not something I deal with often. I have plenty of issues, and I deal with not having fond feelings towards people, but my kids are usually not among them. It was nice to have this realization so I could process through it.

I think for the first time as a mom, I struggled with giving my kids unconditional love. Charlie has been crabby (not his usual!), and Moriah is NOT getting this potty-in-the-toilet thing. God gave me a glimpse into my heart and showed me I wanted to withhold my affection from them because they were too much work and were testing the limits of my patience. Six years ago when I was in Thailand, the ministry leader was giving me a pep talk because I was struggling. I was the only fluent English-speaker in my village, and life was hard. He reminded me about John Piper's mantra about enjoying God and enjoying being part of His work, not in trying to do work for God. He encouraged me that being a part of what God is doing in people's life should feel like a huge privilege, not a huge workload. He said I should be able to sit and talk with a girl, a child, anyone, and - because of my love for God and my enjoyment in watching Him work - feel overwhelming love for her and overwhelmingly grateful that God would choose me, ME!, to sit and talk about her life, about her family, about God.

What? Yeah, right! That's crazy-idealistic and romantic thinking. But, wow, as I grew in my worship of God and in my appreciation for the way He makes people new, I felt that love and gratefulness often. This week I thought about his wisdom regarding my kids. For quite some time, I hadn't felt gratitude that God would choose me, ME!, to be their mom and to spend most of each day with them. As I've been throwing up short, desperate prayers for God to sustain me as I am being stretched in so many new ways, He has given me new doses of patience for my kids and renewed feelings of affection for them. He is sustaining me and making me new! Instead of seeing them as a workload, I can - because of my love for God and my enjoyment in watching Him work - see them as a gift. It is so refreshing to be grateful that God would chose me to love Moriah and Charlie,

...It is also so refreshing to have the Schwan man in Jammal. People stop by daily with delicious (?) treats for sale. Some even luxuriously take orders ahead of time and bring the food in time for dinner. Last week we tried some "samosas." They are fried pockets of beef, cabbage, and onions - with curry and hot pepper. We decided these would make a regular appearance in our meal schedule, so tomorrow is Runza night. Now all we need is some Husker football ;)


They were a hit with the kids. Aren't those two precious? :)




Sunday, August 24, 2014

Thanks be to God

This weekend was a tough one. I got to the barely-able-to-function point and felt like I was hanging on to the Lord by a thread. Friday was day ten of being here and waiting for our trunks to arrive with most of our luggage. Most importantly, I was missing my running shoes, a yoga mat, and almost all of the food supplies I had brought from the states. Gracious neighbors had made us meals for the first several days and brought over fresh-baked bread, but that food was gone, so I was needing to make 3 meals a day from scratch… With new ingredients and not having some of our staples (dried fruit, nuts, honey), I was totally exhausted from trying to think of things to make, let alone from actually getting around to doing it. Nick was on call Saturday, so the kids and I were outside by the swing set. I told Moriah, “Sweetheart, I can’t push you on the swing right now. I’m not feeling very good. I’m kind of tired, kind of sad, and my head isn’t working quite right.” She comes over and plants a kiss on my head. “Is it working better now, mommy?” she asked sweetly. What a tender heart. Ever since a very young age, an uncanny young age actually, she has seemed to have a really powerful read on people’s emotions and an ability to respond appropriately. I’ve gotten to this barely-able-to-take-care-of-myself-and-kids point a couple times, and it doesn’t feel very good. In fact, it’s kind of scary. 

I sent out a plea for prayer to virtually everyone on my viber contact list. (Viber is a great app we use here for texting and calling.) I also read some sweet notes in a journal a whole bunch of my best wichita ladies wrote in thanks to my thoughtful friend, Robyn. AND I turned the air conditioning on in the kids’ room to ensure great naps and then took a long one myself. I woke up overwhelmed by the supportive responses and great verses of encouragement from people praying for us. I felt like God had cleared my thinking a bit (my head was starting to work better…) and given me ability to soak in some great truth and encouragement from all these amazing family and friends. 

One friend pointed me to 1 Peter 4 and 5 and shared some verses and encouragement from there. I have been thinking about them often since yesterday afternoon. She pointed out verse 19 and encouraged me to entrust my soul - even and especially - in the middle of my discouragement and depression to my faithful Creator. Thinking of God as the faithful Creator, who does not leave His children alone, was such an encouragement. Also, thinking I can rejoice in my suffering because I can share in Christ’s suffering and therefore have that “bond” with him gave me a glimmer of hope that my pain was meaningful. Isn’t that the hope of the Christian life? Not that God takes away pain and trials, in fact, pain and trials will increase as we commit to follow the One who suffered to the point of giving up his life. But the hope of the Christian life is that God gives meaning to our joy and our pain. Our joy is a taste of the eternal life to come. Our pain is a tool He uses to bond us with Jesus and make us more like Him. For we know that God works all things for the good of those who love Him. A favorite verse that is often taken out of context, “I can do everything through Him who gives me strength,” was so perfect for yesterday because in Philippians 4 Paul is talking about learning to be content in every circumstance, whether having a lot (of convenience and provisions) or whether having nothing. Paul can be content in both of these conditions through God’s strengthening power. When our desire is to have contentment with the conditions God is giving us at the moment, not necessarily to score a touchdown or get straight A’s, we can be assured His strengthening power is ours! So thanks be to God, He gave me faith yesterday to trust him with all my heart, to lean not on my own understanding, but in all my ways, even in my discouraging times, to acknowledge Him as my faithful creator who is with me, who strengthens me, who helps me, who upholds me with His hand, believing that He will make my paths straight! And He did. He gave many tangible blessings on top of the faith to believe in His truth:

  • Moriah showed motivation for the first time to purposefully potty on the toilet, rather than just sitting forever watching cartoons on the toilet until she accidentally potties. And she went twice in the evening.
  • Nick got NO calls overnight so we all slept!!
  • Our trunks arrived this morning and we had granola bars and raisins straight out of the package!!!



And for some comic relief, here’s some pictures of us riding camels. Definitely one of the most awkward things I’ve ever done.  I guess we can cross it off our list! Think of riding a horse that lurches ungracefully with every step and is another 3 feet off the ground. Then add a tired baby who wants to nurse while you try to keep both of you from tumbling to the ground. And a saddle that somehow gives you more pressure points rather than relieving them. And then do that parading around a rural African village with 7 other white people. Yeah, a little awkward. Ha! I think we’re done riding camels ;) It will make for some good memories!


Family pic. I'm wearing the traditional head wrap for married women. I've been reading a book called "Mini-skirts, Mothers & Muslims" about modesty in a Muslim culture and will post on that soon.


Look into mine eye.


Somehow Charlie and I got the tallest camel who led the pack...


And Parker got the runt of the litter who trailed at the end. 

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Happy Campers

I'm a big fan of baby-wearing, it's my favorite part of having a baby by far. I love my homemade ring sling in the States, so when I saw how African babes always rode on their mommas back, I wanted to try it out. I had Anna help me get Charlie tied up and felt pretty African. But I didn't get it quite right; I kept feeling Charlie would fall right on his dome. So I asked Anna if she wanted to carry him instead. We were headed to market for my first experience, and I knew it would be overstimulation even without a squirmy baby on my back who felt like he was falling (I hate to shop - it gives me anxiety). She happily agreed, and Charlie fell right asleep and stayed that way for over an hour. They were both happy campers.



Moriah stayed back at the rehab center to play with friends while we were gone. She got to help in a burn patient's therapy. The occupational therapist has been working with this little girl for over a year.




It may look like Moriah is facing away from the camera with her arms freakishly in back of her, but that's just the way she likes to wear her hat... really far down on her forehead.

Monday, August 18, 2014

Settling In

Here's some snapshots of our house. I didn't get a picture of kids' room before they went to bed, but it's fairly spacious as well. Our living conditions are much more western than many of you have probably imagined.



Yes, that really is.... an actual corded phone?!? 


Don't mind our diapers drying on the backs of chairs. One of the perks of cloth diapering during rainy season.



A view out our front porch on a rainy day. You can see the edge of the playground on the right. Kids love being close to the playground, and momma loves being able to let Moriah play and still be able to see her from the kitchen :)


Big news here... the kids had their first night without waking up!  Those of you who know how much I like my sleep know I am surely praising God for that blessing.  Nick feels he is getting the swing of being in the hospital, and I can tell he is excited about the work he has. He spends free time listening to lectures on ultrasound and reading up on tuberculosis. Translation: he enjoys learning about caring for patients with different diseases and practices here. I will have him write about hospital life soon. We have a sweet woman, Anna, who comes to help at our house three mornings a week. Having house help is common for many missionaries, and it is standard here in Jammal. Daily life tasks take much more time here. Anna washes all our clothes, cleans our house, and will start helping in the kitchen. If you’ve ever done your laundry by hand, you will join me in gladly paying someone to do this hard job! And with all the rain and dirt/sand around here, floors tend to dirty quickly, so regular sweeping and cleaning is helpful. I told the missionary in charge of helping newcomers find house help that I will take as much help as is culturally appropriate, without appearing lazy :) The standard rate for help is just under $1/hr. Women are happy to have the work so house help is a blessing to everyone involved! Anna knows how to bake bread, as she usually works for a family who is in the States for their home assignment (furlough). This family has 4 children, so she loves being around kids and is hoping for some of her own. Moriah and Charlie have quickly warmed up to her. This morning, Moriah followed her around reading her a story. Anna speaks no English, so my Hausa is getting off to a quick start! 

I think I have also found a needed way for me to serve here. While I would love to get some time at the hospital in nursing, I see more pressing needs I can meet indirectly by helping long-termers with their littles. Some of our neighbors on the compound are a family with 4 kids. Both parents are doctors, and the mom has been staying at home almost full-time. Three of her kids are school-aged this year, and she would like to get more time in at the hospital.  More physician help is certainly needed as doctors are always swamped. We had a test play-date today, and it went wonderfully! I will probably be watching her almost 3-year-old son regularly in the mornings, along with his older sister occasionally after kindergarten is dismissed. The kindergartner is very outgoing, and Moriah thinks she’s pretty much awesome. I am excited about being able to contribute here in a way that doesn’t require as much of a learning curve. Nothing too profound to write today. Thanks for reading and for praying for us :)