African Triage

I have been a nurse for many years, the majority of that has been working in an Emergency setting where triage is always a part of my job. The concept of triage, choosing who is sickest among the sick is one that is developed over time through practice and experience. Comparing triage from when I worked in Trauma in San Francisco to here in Mozambique brings much obscurity because of the blatant differences that I see. It is hard for me to fathom triage in the Africa hospitals, hard for me to imagine walking with those nurses every day through the grief that they see. I had the opportunity to visit a hospital again the other day, and both times that I was there, my heart was torn is so many ways, as a nurse and also as a person. The first triage challenge that I was met with was the previous day at a way in clinic out in the rural communities where I met a young woman and her daughter who was very ill. The white cold toes, the bulging little eyes, and the fragile hair caught my attention even before I started hearing the history of the child. She was almost 2 years old, and was under 6 kg, had been sick with Malaria many times and was just not growing. The mother explained that the she had been told that her child needed blood and I could see the evidence of that as I looked at her girls face. Instead of seeing the dark, brown skin that I have grown to love so much, I saw discolored patches across her face that told me that her blood levels must be really low. Anemia in Canada is a problem just like it is in Mozambique, but finding blood to transfuse in Africa becomes a problem for the family as they have to supply the blood. I sat there looking at this little girl going through the many reasons why she would be so low on her blood levels…malnutrition, liver damage from the malaria, underlying disease such as AIDS and I was challenged by my perspective of triage. Despite my first instinct of packing the child up and taking her immediately to the hospital, I relied more on my Africa triage knowledge, and made a plan to provide transport in the next day for her to go. With many other women looking on as I assessed the little girl, it was hard to believe, but so true that there were sicker children that this little one that needed blood. Despite the obvious problem, she was breastfeeding well, and wasn’t fighting any infection at this point. She was alert enough to voice her discontent for this white woman who was trying to touch her, and I could see that she had lots of fight left in her. As the team continued to work through weighing all of the children, it became even more clear that triage would be needed because more that 90 percent of the children present were underweight and fighting illness. Challenge just doesn’t seem enough of a word to describe what I felt.
Thankfully we were able to bring the mother and babe to the hospital the next morning and as we talked with the health director, I was quickly reminded why the hospitals of Mozambique have always raised the hair on the back of my neck. I heard the sound the minute I stepped into the hallway, the sound that has always made me instantly nauseous, the sound that brings goosebumps to my skin and tears to my eyes, it was the sound of a woman wailing. As we rounded the corner, I saw a woman sitting on the floor holding her face in her hands and wailing. At first, it was difficult to know what to do, and it was so hard for me not to just run to her and hold her as she cried. Eventually the story was explained that she had just been told that her daughter had died, and if that wasn’t enough to rock my emotions, one of the women pointed to a little baby and explained that the mother of the child had just died. As the baby looked curiously at me, and as I reached out and let his little hand grasp my fingers, the sound of the mother wailing for her daughter brought waves of despair. This precious baby didn’t know that his mother would no longer be holding him, would not longer be feeding him, would no longer be keeping him warm. But just when I thought the grief of it all would overtake my ability to cope, a woman came and gently lifted the baby onto her back and began binding him to her for the journey home. I don’t’ know who the woman was, I imagined it could have been the babies aunt, or other family member. It could have been a neighbor, or perhaps the woman’s friend, but it blessed my heart so much to see someone come and start loving that baby. There were no words from the grandmother, there was no formal process, it was just a silent way of ministry, a form of love like I have rarely seen. Even though that baby would never know his mother, he would know love, he would know care and he would know he was wanted. Again, just as many times previous, peace overcame my soul and enabled me to continue on with the other challenges of the day.

Later that day the triage aspect of my nursing was challenged again as we returned to the hospital. As I walked toward the entrance, there was a crowd or people and we heard that a young boy around 6 years had just been struck by a car. Given my previous experiences with the hospital, and know that they Emergency room didn’t even have basic supplies like oxygen, I felt the difficulty of the situation. I walked toward the ER and I heard his little voice as I stood outside in the hallway. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but I did recognize the fear that I heard. As I stood and listened my heart sank as I heard the room go silent which never is a good sign when you have a pediatric trauma patient. When I am thinking about triage at home with children, a crying child is always better than a child that is difficult to rouse or is too weak to cry. As I was invited into the examining room I was met with a sight that broke me. This little boy, the size of my nephew, was being restrained on a plastic mattress with blood coming from his head and nose. He had obviously been struck on the back of his head and his forehead had been driven into the pavement. By the time that I started to assess him, he became agitated again, and was repeating words in his local dialect. I discovered that the boy at the end of the bed holding his legs down was his brother, and so we encouraged his brother to go and talk with him to try and lessen his fear. My heart sank again as I watched the little boy barely respond to his brother and continue to utter confused phrases. Even my placing a blanket on the little guys legs was terrifying for him, and I recognized that many of the things that we were seeing were evidence of a head injury. I then turned my energies to what the plan was and learned that the nurses wanted to transfer him to a bigger hospital. The only ambulance that was available was heading there way in an hour, and so my triage mind continued to deliberate what would be best. I thought about trying to pack up the child and drive him to the next hospital 40 minutes away, I thought about the pressure that could be building in his head, or the bleeding and injuries that I couldn’t see. I thought about the fact that this little man was alone without his parents and how scary that would be. As the cry changed, and they told me that the child was crying because of pain, my tears started to build, because I knew that the hospital didn’t have more than Tylenol to offer. What was the best plan? Was there such a thing as a best plan, or the most appropriate triage choice? What would I do at home? Well, at home, this child would have had an Ambulance present at the accident, he would have been assessed and most likely flown to Children’s hospital via helicopter, he would have been met by Emergency and Neurosurgeons, and most certainly, he would have had his mom or dad at his side. Here, he was afraid, confused, and without any parents to comfort him. The decisions fell to an older brother that was equally terrified of what was going on. I stood at the side of the bed and quietly told the little boy my name, that I was a nurse, and that I wanted to help, all the while trying to figure out what I was going to do. After thinking in an Africa triage mindset, I realized that even the next hospital wouldn’t have what the boy really needed, nor would any hospital for that matter. I realized that this little boy would lay on a bed and wait for hours by himself if we were to take him to the next city, and wouldn’t get any better care. I realized that in taking him, he would be without his family, and his parents wouldn’t be able to see him for an extended period of time. The decision that I made was one of the most difficult ones, as I chose to pray for the little boy, to leave a blanket on him and to walk away entrusting his care to the medical system that he was a part of. As the prayers of others went up from that place, my hand remained on his leg and I continued to whisper words of comfort to his little spirit. Although it felt like we were doing nothing, like we were just standing by and allowing this little boy to get worse, and even die, I knew in my spirit that wasn’t the case. Jesus was in that room, He was whispering to that little boy, His arms were holding him, and there was peace. As I walked out of the little Emergency room, I glanced back and saw the little boy close his eyes, his crying stopped, he stopped fighting, and one way or the other, I knew that his little spirit had found rest and peace.

To Feel or Not to Feel

Today my heart was challenged with a choice that is never easy, and as I have learned over my years of nursing, never is going to be easy. I had to make the choice of allowing my heart to feel pain or not.

Today, our team visited a young mother of a 17 month old little girl who has been suffering with hydrocephalus – a medical problem in which there is too much fluid within the cranial cavity. I met this mother and her child a couple weeks ago at the clinic and the instant that I saw her little girl, my heart began breaking. She shared with me that her girl had been born a bit early, but was healthy for the first 3 months and my mind thought about my little niece and how precious she was to those around her at that age. I thought about the relationship that must have been created between this mother and her child over the past 17 months.........

The mother shared that she noticed the childs’ head start to get bigger after an infection and despite taking the child to the hospital numerous times and asking for help, there was no help to be found. A mothers’ love is a marvel on so many levels and I saw an even deeper aspect of that in this mothers eyes as she gently showed me her girl. As I began to examine her little angel, I felt the weight of the child’s head that could no longer be supported by her neck. I was met with the harsh reality that the child was going blind in both eyes and that her hearing was failing. I noticed that her reflexes were very sensitive and as I felt her soft hair, my fingers found a large soft spot on her skull that should have been closed months ago. I could see that this child was scared, as she was limited in her ability to know what was happening, and I so wanted to reach out and hold that child tightly so that she didn’t feel the fear that her body was showing. As her little fingers gripped mine, I felt the life and the spirit that was still living in this failing body and my heart broke. Again, I thought about my little niece Hope calling out her mothers name and running to her, and I knew that this child would never do that. I thought about the joy we felt when Hope took her first step, spoke her first word, and I knew that this woman would never see her daughter do those things. I thought about when Hope has been scared, and how her mother goes to her quickly so that she doesn’t feel that…… As I glanced at the mother, I saw love, a deep love for her daughter despite the extra care that was required. Not one word came out of her mouth about how sore her back must be from carrying her daughter around, or how hard she has to work each day. She didn’t mention the many kilometer walk she had made to bring her daughter to the clinic, or how tired she must be, she just wanted help for her little girl. I sighed deeply and prayer for strength because I knew that there was nothing medically that we could offer to this family.

Today as we walked into the little community where this family lived I saw the mother quickly getting chairs and setting out mats for us the familiar challenge came to my heart. I had to choose whether or not I allowed myself to feel the emotions that would come with this visit. My first thought was to become numb, to not allow it to permeate to my heart, to not think about what I would be feeling if this was my daughter, or my family. That would be easy, it wouldn’t require much investment on my part, and I could be as sensitive as I could and then just leave and forget. But again, the motto of the mission here, and the challenge to all of us of loving God and loving His people resounded in my mind and I knew that I couldn’t do that.

Early in my nursing career I made a promise to myself that when it got to the point where death was no longer hard, when I could see dying children and it didn’t affect me, when I stopped feeling, that I would stop nursing. That is because for me, nursing has always involved my heart, had always involved trying to imagine the pain that the people I am caring for are feeling. So as I sat on the mat and looked at the mother holding her dying child, I allowed the waves of pain to come and it took my breath away. As I spoke the stabbing words of no treatment available, no medications that can make this better, I saw the mother accept the destiny of her child in her own way and I choked back the tears. It felt like poison coming out of my mouth. If the weight of a dying child wasn’t enough, I learned that this young mother was alone most of the week as her husband worked away, and I tried to imagine carrying for a dying child and doing it alone. Even though this mother didn’t show much outward emotion, I knew that she was feeling grief that I couldn’t fathom. I imagined her crying in her hut at night, or feeling the anger and the confusion that many of us would. I thought again to my little niece and I knew that if her little life were in danger, that I would do anything within my power to change that, and I saw the exhaustion in this mothers eyes knowing that she was struggling with that and many other things. As she continued to breast feed her child, I saw the connection between them despite the many barriers, and I encouraged her that she was doing a good job. She shared that the child had already started to have seizures, and as I heard the complications that were happening, I prayed for mercy. It is a difficult prayer for many reasons because part of my heart believes that God can do miracles and that this child could be healed. But the other part of my heart also knows that God’s sovereignty doesn’t always involve what our minds think is best, and so I prayed that this life of this child would not suffer endlessly. I prayed for strength for the mother, that again I couldn’t fathom, and I prayed that God would not allow this mother to feel alone or for her child to feel the fear that I saw.

None of us that visited that family left the same; we were all impacted in one way or the other. But for me, the biggest impact came while we were leaving. If I had just been told that my child was going to die, and that there was nothing that could be done, I am sure that it would be so difficult to talk or to move or even breathe. I wouldn’t be thinking of anything except my child, and I certainly wouldn’t be thinking about the people who had just told me that news. But, as we left and I looked back, I saw the mother coming after us. She had strapped her child to her back, and she was walking us to our vehicle to thank us for the visit. She was honoring us and showing us her gratitude…….. I don’t know how to describe how that made me feel, but the tears came then and continue to as I think about it even now. What strength, what ability to continue with life despite the tidal wave of grief that had come, what endurance and ability to think about others instead of herself. It is hard for me to understand. I don’t know the time and date that the child will die, but I do know that as we left God stayed, that He will be present in that hut and beside that mother. I know that His arms are around her, and that He is calling that angel home where she will no longer be afraid, where she will run and sing, and feel joy. I know that God will continue to carry that family and many others here in Africa, and despite my struggle, the pain in my heart, the confusion in my thoughts, my spirit felt peace. To feel or not to feel continue to be a challenge, but for now, with the strength that I am being given each day, I am choosing to feel, to love those around me, to care, and to continue doing that. My prayers are with that family and will continue to be there for much time to come.

Suzanne

A Day To Remember

Sunday was a day I hope that I never forget. We had the opportunity to go out to a small community church that is associated with the mission that we are working with. We all piled in to the van that morning and It was about an hours drive from where we are staying. When we arrived into the community, we drove to the little church. It was a building that had a thatched roof and open on the edges with several supporting poles down the center of the building. The floor was the red African dirt that we are becoming so familiar with. When we walked in to the church there were about 12 wooden chairs set up and off to the side were bamboo and reed mats. To the other side were a couple of rows of log seating, typically seen in places for gatherings here in the rural areas of Mozambique. We were asked to come and sit as the chairs were pointed out to us. It became apparent that the North American style seating had been put out especially in honor of the visiting Canadian Mazoongos (white people). The women came in and sat on the mats that were placed on the ground on the right of the chairs and the men sat on the log seating on the left side of the church. The last time I was here in Mozambique I was very blown away by the way the Afircans do church. I believe if everyone did church like this, there would be way more people that would come. For that reason, I was looking forward to seeing if I these folks would do it the same as I had remembered. The service started out with singing. Amazing singing…. and let me tell you that there is no one here that is too afraid to belt it out. Let me remind you that there are no pianos or instruments other that a drum and the clapping of hands, and the only thing that can top off the singing is the dancing. Wow...these people know how to shake their “Bon Bon” and they have no problem doing it. My favorite was the 4 year old little girl that danced like I have never seen. The joy on their faces was so apparent with praise and worship. After the preaching was done the pastor stood up and said that they were going to do a “Love “offering. I wasn’t too sure what this meant, but it started out with more singing and dancing and that was ok for me. During the dancing all of our girls got to get into dance along with the Mozambican people and during the dancing, 2 tied-up chickens were brought to the front of the church and layed on the floor. Also a bag of fruit was brought and placed near the chickens. This was a gift from the church to our team in honor of our visit. After the service we were asked if we would please come and join the pastor and his wife for lunch. Now under most circumstances like these, it is best to thank them very much but give excuse. It is not always the wisest thing to eat the meals that the Mozambican’s prepare as often the result will mean many hours in the bathroom. This time we were told that the meal had already been prepared and refusing the meal would be not polite, so we accepted with a little hesitation. We were led to the pastor’s home and at the door of his little 10x10 house, stood the pastor and his wife with a jug of water and basin that they used to pour water over our hands so we could wash before the meal. Then the 16 of us entered the small home and sat in a circle. Due to the cramped space we were knee to knee. We were served and ate the meal of rice and beans that had prepared for us. We asked why we were all sitting in the small house when we could have been outside a little less cramped. We were told that it was a great honor for the pastor to have us all in his home and not outside. He was trying to give us all the greatest honor he could. In addition to this honor, we were told that this pastor had been able to grow only 8 cobs of corn due to drought this past year. He was hardly able to feed his own family but it was important for him to be able to feed our team in honor. . Our good friend and co-leader Jeff, told us that after 18 years in the army and after many occasions of honor that he was a part of due to the service that he had given, he has never experienced the honor that was given to the group that day in a little church in Mozambique. It was a moment that I hope we all never forget and will be able to hold close to our minds and hearts for a long time .

Wendy

While being here in Africa I have seen so many people and learned so many things. One of the common threads that have been demonstrated over and over again is the amount of strength that the African people have. Mai Ania has been a prime example of that in many ways over the past two weeks. Throughout the week between the first and second team, I was so blessed to be able to spend time with this Grandma doing her exercises. There were times that she would smile and even chuckle despite her pain. Once the second team arrived, we began the next step of her physio and actually got her sitting in a chair to do her exercises. It is hard to describe the first time that she actually sat in the chair and enjoyed the sunshine. I have never seen her smile so big and as she practiced taking deep breaths and doing her stretches, she said to me that she was feeling happy. What a joy to hear that.
We were also blessed with the opportunity to give Ania an audio bible in her native language that had been donated from someone months prior. God continued to give us opportunites to share His love for Ania over and over, which makes sense now as we are ending this week. Although Mai Ania seemed to be getting better, and it really looked like we may be able to help her start moving again, things changed drastically. As we went for our usual visit, we found a decline in her overall health, although she was so determined to continue with the exercises, the team could just see her weaken. As we began searching for what was causing the illness, it was like God gently showed the team that her time was ending. There was no sign of infection, no fever, but the pain worsened by the day and her energy just seemed to leave her.
At first, we struggled with trying to treat what was happening, but then God again gently lead us through a conversation with Ania. We were sitting in her hut in the evening with Pastor Rick and were talking about God when Ania shared that she had been sick for so long and that she was tired of being sick. She looked at us and said that she wanted to rest, and in my heart I knew that it wasn’t only her body that needed to rest, but also her spirit. We told Ania about how to find peace in Jesus, and continued to support her as the days continued.
Watching a person suffer is never easy, and depending on how you look at it, it can be very horrifying. For Ania, the suffering has been going on for decades in her life and has continued up until this very day. Even though we tried to give all we could in the way of nursing care, Ania body has been through so much and in a country where the life expectancy is 34, she being over 60 is quite remarkable. It is a difficult call to know when to stop rehabilitation and start palliative care, but for Ania, the need for that change was very clear. Over the past few days, she has gone from being able to sit up and talk with us and working through her physio to now being semi-conscious.
And even though my heart is so sad for this Grandma who I have grown to love very much, it hurts me even more to see her lying on a hard mat, in a cold hut, alone, and in pain. I miss her greeting us as we enter the tent already, but her spirit is no longer in the body that has failed her. This afternoon, as we prayed with her and our hands felt her cold limbs, I knew that the end was very near, and despite the sadness, there was relief. I know that God is present in that hut; I knew that even though the pain continued, that God’s mercies were stronger. When I think of my friend, this Grandma who has lived her life in Africa, strength resonates through my mind so loudly. She has taught me so many things through her example, and I feel so honored for the time I have had to know her. I will grieve with her family when she passes, but I will also rejoice knowing that she will no longer be in pain, and will no longer be suffering. Our thoughts and prayers are with our dear Grandma tonight and with her family.

The second time arrives

Well it has almost been a week since our departure and so much has happened. Our flights were incredibly long as we had 5 different flights to get here but when we did arrive, we got to stay our first night in Mozambique in a cute little beach house on the Indian ocean. In the morning when we got up the whole team got to go and see the sun come up. Such a beautiful start to our trip. We arrived on camp later that day and got settled into our new home, tents, for the next 3 weeks. For the past couple of days we have been making visits to a little 80 year old lady that is suffering from leprosy and a broken hip that was never set. She has been for the most part immobile and so the challenge set before us is to see if we might be able to get her mobilized before we leave. Such a sweet little lady that despite having so little, is still able to smile and is so thankful for a team from Canada that is trying to help. Yesterday we were able to go to the school that is associated with the mission that we are working with while here. That was such a neet day as I am sure all 260 children tried to hold everyones hand at sometime during the day. The kids here are so full of joy and smiles and have no fear of the Mazoonga. (white person). They want to sit on your lap and do your hair. Just normal children I guess. Tomorrow we will be able to participate in a immunization clinic. That should be interesting as there are sometimes 100's of children present needing vaccinations. Anyhow I guess that is it for now. I will try to post again soon.

Wendy

Frustration leads to Motivation

This past week I have been on the farm with Keren and the workers finalizing the schedule for the next team to come. After returning from a visit at the coast which was so incredibly beautiful and refreshing and dropping the first team off, I was surprised at how tired I felt. Although I wasn’t able to make it to the clinic as often as I wanted, the times that I spent there were filled with many emotions. There are so many challenges here in the health sector, and so many limitations, it is very easy to get overwhelmed. Frustration set in even before the first year team left, and continued throughout the week. I was thankful that God has big enough shoulders to handle my anger as I prayed and sought after His wisdom.

One of the first situations that has challenged many of our emotions regarded Mai Ania, the grandma that we have been caring for with a broken hip. When we first arrived at camp, Mai Ania was living the home built for her by the mission and was being cared for by her neighbour Mai Lidia. It was a relationship that taught the entire team of true love and sacrifice. On one our visits, we were informed that Mai Ania husband and daughter wanted her to move back home to their community, which at first seemed like a really good idea. But after learning more about the situation, my heart sank as I realized that this had happened before and it resulted in poor treatment and neglect for Mai Ania as the other 4 wives of her husband were not willing to care for her. I couldn’t understand why Mai Ania would want to go back to such an unloving situation, knowing full well what would happen, but she was really excited. It hit me then, and continued to as the days went on that Mai Ania is like the rest of us, she wants to be loved, and regardless of how badly her family treats her, the invitation back was a reminder of their love for her in Mai Ania’s eyes. It saddened me, and I tried to not be too pessimistic about the situation, but my worry was deep as I thought about the many health problems that we were working with, and how the progress might drop significantly if Mai Ania was in that situation.

However, the day came and we as a team went to support Mai Ania in her decision and transported her in the back of a truck to her new home. Upon arrival, we were told to put her on the floor in front of a small hut, and as I did, I felt like I was deserting her. It is difficult to create the picture in words for you to understand, but in a way it would be like someone going from the hospital, where you are getting nursing care to being placed in downtown Calgary on the street inside of a cardboard box. But, as I looked at Ania, the smile on her face told me that she wanted to be there. Unfortunately, her husband who can hardly move himself wasn’t very welcoming, but I was thankful that her daughter was there to care for her.

After the team left, I have continued to go and see Mai Ania, and each day is a different picture of how she is doing. The first day that I got there after the weekend, she was lying in the hut crying from pain and told me she was cold. As I sat her up, her tears were splashing on my arm and I knew that it wasn’t going to be a good day. We worked together to move her sore limbs, and I asked if she had eaten that day. She explained to me that she only eats what is brought to her, and I didn’t see any sign of food being brought on a regular basis. I spent time trying to encourage her, and despite her pain, she went through the exercises and then asked to rest. It was so sad to help her settle back on that lonely mat…… I left with a very heavy heart.
The next time I visited, my frustration continued as I found her lying on the matt with no clothes, and her legs were so cold from the nights drop in temperature. As a woman who struggles with Leprosy, her circulation is already compromised in many ways, and so to see swelling and lack of circulation in both of her legs worried me greatly. As I held her legs in my hands and began to massage some heat into them, her whimpers of pain broke me. I was having trouble controlling my tears as I slowly began moving her toes one by one, then her ankles, and so on. I was so frustrated knowing that if we were in a different place, this woman’s life would be so different. But God gently reminded me that I needed to be present in the realities of this situation and to trust Him, and so we continued.

As I was finishing the exercises, I recognized a smell that I would never forget….. rotting flesh and so I began my search. It didn’t take long to discover a raging yeast infection under Mai Ania breasts that was seeping green mucous. I wondered how long it had been there, and wondered how I had missed that in previous visits, but I was thankful to have found it. Again, as many treatments do, pain was a part of cleaning, and so we prayed together and I continued. All the while, Mai Ania uttered words of thanks. I accepted that, but wondered how it was possible that this woman wasn’t even getting help with basic tasks of washing every day…. Which would avoid this kind of infection. How could a woman be in a community, but be totally ignored and neglected………. It made me want to go out and scream, but I know that I am in a different culture, in a place where life is walked in a different way, and God again reminded me that He had brought our teams for a purpose, and for Mai Ania. I was again encouraged and motivated to continue to do all that I could, knowing that with every step I needed to continue to rely on God’s strength.

At the end of the week Keren and I were able to visit Mai Ania once again, and we were very encouraged to see the progress that had happened. The rash, although still painful, was healing well and we were able to continue treatment. But even more exciting and encouraging was achieving the goal of getting Mai Ania into a chair. I think it had been months since this women had been off of the cold ground…and her smile told me of her joy as we lifted her into the chair. It almost seemed that she felt some of her dignity return, I saw hope in her eyes that I hadn’t seen since coming, and I felt a wave of encouragement come over all of us. As we again worked through the exercises, we took it one step further as Keren and I helped Mai Ania stand on her good leg. It was a victory in her life, as she had said on my first visit that she didn’t think she would ever walk again, and despite the fear that she felt, I could feel a bit of spirit return into this Grandmas heart. It was another reminder again, that God’s hope is present in all situations, regardless of how negative or hopeless that is seems. I am excited to see how God is going to use the next 4 weeks of the nursing student’s care in Mai Ania’s life. What an honor for us to be part of what God is doing………

It is funny how there are waves of emotions and experiences that come while in Africa, life continues no matter where you are. This week there have been other situations that have tore my heart apart and I realized that it was possible to feel anger and deep sadness at the same time. One of the struggles that has been rearing its head this year is the fact that even though there is a medical clinic, the people in the community don’t come for help soon enough. The result of this was reality again, as we heard of a workers baby dying after being sick for a few days. The moment I heard that, the weight on my shoulders just was so heavy, how could we tell the people that maybe we could help. How can we make them trust us enough or encourage them that coming to the clinic to the thing to do when their little ones are sick. Despite that fact that death seems to reign in this place, each life lost is exactly that…. A life lost. I glanced at the antibiotics and other medications that are sitting in the clinic, and it just broke my heart. Most times the babies and people are dying from things that can be treated….. if they come early enough. How is it possible that precious babies are dying from basic chest infections that would require a few days of antibiotics and rest, how is that reality, but it is. At times, it seems like I am getting a hard heart, as I didn’t weep outwardly as I did in the first year that I visited here. But my heart is not hard, it breaks every time I hear of those lives that are lost, but I still have to be effective. If I allow myself to really think about a little girl dying just as her life is beginning, if I thought about the mothers wailing and the fathers grief, if I thought about my own dear family members and what it would be like to lose them, I wouldn’t be able to take a step. I would be wailing on the ground just as the African people do when they meet the grief of death…….. but we must continue to try and educated, to treat, and to care. We must walk up to the clinic and into the communities and do all that God gives us the strength to do, and then, we must rest in the warmth of His sovereignty.

The heaviness this week deepened even more as I heard from one of the health workers that his 3 month old baby had eye problems. What he explained to me sounded like cataracts, something that I knew would end in blindness here, and so I asked him to bring her to me. It was so precious to see this grown man as he introduced me to his little girl. She was so beautiful, full head of dark curly hair, perfect features, small little hands and feet, what joy she would bring. I listened again to the story and heard that the entire family had experienced an eye infection over the past week. I learned that she had been healthy since birth, that she was a bit fussy in the evening, and that she was growing well. I learned that both her father and mother were suffering from lack of sleep because their daughter seemed to like to cry at night…… it sounded like a very typical infant. I began examining her eyes, and quickly noticed the problem. Her right eye was totally fine and her discontent was very clear that she didn’t like me shining lights in her eye. As I carefully opened the left eye, I quickly saw the problem and I knew that it wasn’t cataracts. I saw a small white circle on the lower part of her cornea, which most likely started as a small scratch on her eye, but had developed into scar tissue, known as a corneal scar.

This kind of problem is very commonly seen, and can be easily treated. The health worker had begun treatment of the eye, but despite the treatment, the scar had formed. Often, by putting a patch over the eye, and using antibiotic cream, the formation of the scar tissue can be avoided, but the health worker hadn’t brought the child to the clinic because he thought it would get better like the rest of his family. He looked at me, asking if I knew how to fix this problem, and having worked with him for the past 4 years, and considering him a friend, it was very difficult to explain to him that this might not be able to be fixed. He asked me if his girl would be blind, and again, as my heart sank, I tried to explain that I didn’t know for sure. We started some treatment, patched the eye, and prayed for his little girl. In Canada, there are corneal transplants and other surgical treatments available for this kind of problem, but in Mozambique, that would be very difficult to get done because of limited options of medical care and the high costs.

As I had felt many times throughout the week, I was frustrated that I hadn’t heard about the little girl earlier, although there is no guarantee that I could have helped, we might have been able to avoid some of the complications that I was seeing. I was again saddened at the thought of this perfect little girl possibly losing her sight and thought about how that would impact her life. But, I also felt motivated to do whatever I could to teach the people how to care for themselves, motivated to search and use all the resources that I can to try and help this little baby, motivated to help the people know to come to the clinic.

It is people like Mai Ania, and this little baby, and the many others that I see in the community and in the clinic that motivate me to continue trying our best to serve and love how Jesus would. The nursing teams that come don’t implement life saving measures, we don’t cure, we don’t make obvious changes in the lives of the people that we see, but we do try to love. God is always working, I reminded some of my students of that when discouragement came, and this week, I needed that reminder myself. We may not always see what God is doing but we can rest knowing that He is always working through us, or even despite us. And what He asks of us is a willing spirit to do what He needs, which may not be what we think should happen or even what we came to do. But with a willing spirit and total surrender to God’s plan, I have seen over and over the victories that come. Despite the sadness, frustration, anger, and many other emotions, I know at the depth of my heart that one day all of the suffering and the pain will end, and again I am so thankful for that promise. Until that day, we will continue to do what God has called all of us to…. Love Him and love those around us with all of our strength.

Much love from Africa.

Suzanne

Orphan Visits

The last week of the first year experience came and went with such a flurry of activity that it doesn’t seem real that it is over already. We were again blessed to have many opportunities to share in the lives of the people here, and this time, even closer as the teams went to the different Orphan homes. As a leader, one of my desires is to give the students an opportunity to experience African life for a day, and to work along side of families that are in need. This can often be a time of many different challenges for the students as they are faced with realities that they rarely see at home. I will speak to my teams experience and Shannon will share about hers shortly.

My team was blessed to be able to visit Mai Vida and her granddaughter Gina, who we met last year. This family has struggled with many challenges including Gina’s parents both dying a few years ago and Mai Vida struggling to cope, which at times can include some alcohol. We were greeted warmly by Gina at the side of the rode, and it always warms my heart to see her smiling face as she reaches to carry my bags. That is one thing that is difficult for me to allow, as I can’t imagine this young girl serving me, but it is her way of loving people, and she gets such joy from doing that. Upon arriving, Mai Vida was very friendly and loving to many of us, and was excited to see that we had actually come. The first day involved the big project of collecting fire wood from a back pasture near by and carrying water. I was so pleased to see that they had a well they were using for their water, which meant that it was clean and ready to drink. We were quickly acquainted with the amount of work that this 10 year old girl does on a daily basis as we helped to get water from the well and then carry it on our heads. As I stood and marveled at Gina’s strength and agility, I thought back again to the many times at home that I take advantage of turning on the tap. I wish that I would capture the well in a picture that I could hang in numerous places in my home so that I wouldn’t forget how very fortunate I am!

Finding firewood seems like a relatively basic task but as we walked with the axe into the back pasture, I was reminded from previous years how it wasn’t so simple. It bothered me a little, to know that the work that the five of us were doing was the responsibility of this little family, and that made me want to find as much wood as we could. We wandered back into the bush and I tried to not listen to the voices in my head about the snakes, bugs, and ticks that were in close proximity. We foraged for a while, and were able to make a pretty good pile of wood. We all got to practice cutting wood with the axe, which was a bit more challenging than I remembered……. my aim was a little off. Despite all of our struggles, we were able to return to the home with stacks of firewood on our heads. Kelsey and I were tried our best to carry a large log on our shoulders, which left us both with bruises to remind us of the experience. There were many bumps and bruises that day, which we accepted with joy knowing that we were able to lighten the load, even just for a day, for this little family.

As we returned back to the home of Mai Vida, we met another small Grandma going down the path. We asked with the help of our translator what she was going to do, and she replied that she was out of firewood. My heart sank as I looked at this little Grandma and her axe heading down the path, she must have been in her 70’s and I could see that her vision wasn’t great and that her knees and back were causing her pain. I couldn’t imagine her going down through the brush like we had just done, knowing the soreness in my muscles and thinking about her daily walk to that brush to get firewood. In Africa, firewood is vital for warmth, especially during this time of year, in addition to enabling them to have fire to cook their food and boil their water on. It isn’t an option and it isn’t like going and buying wood or getting a load delivered like we do at home. It is hard work that takes a lot of energy and involves getting very dirty and we were blessed with the opportunity to help this little Grandma as well. It continually warms my heart to visit these people, to get to know their way of life, and to help them in any way that we can. For Mai Vida, her love is sitting with me on the matt and holding my hand, she often expresses that she doesn’t like it when I have dirt on my shirt and is very upset when she sees the blisters on my hands. She loves anyone that comes into her home, and is so hospitable, even to the point of wanting to feed us despite her not having very much food. This year their corn grew to tall stalks, but there wasn’t enough rain, and so they didn’t get any harvest. I asked Mai Vida about where she was going to get food, and she just hung her head and said she didn’t know. Thankfully they are part of the orphan program in which they get monthly food delivered, but it is nothing compared to what most of us have in our cupboards at home. There are so many lessons that we can learn from these people, imagine if your family were starving and you had no idea how you were going to feed them for a month, but yet you still chose to offer strangers some of your food? The level of generosity just baffles me.

The second day that we went, we had the tasks of carrying water, clearing the corn field, and hauling dirt for repairs on the house. As always we were greeted by Gina with her smile and willingness to help. A few times while walking to her home, she would reach out and grab my hand, making sure that I was ok and smiling up at me. It was bitter sweet for her I am sure, as she had stayed home despite it being a holiday at school that day. I was humbled as I thought about the food, treats, games, and fun that she had chosen to pass by in order to spend time with us. How could our visit be more valuable than that to a little girl? I realized that she was just aching for some love and attention, and most days, although her Grandma loves her, she wouldn’t get that. I was glad to hold her hand as we walked…….

After carrying water, we went to work at clearing the field that had been planted. It was difficult for me as we took stalk after stalk down knowing the work of planting and caring for a garden, and knowing that this family would get no harvest for their work. Often I would be fighting tears of frustration as I recognized the struggle that accompanies the daily existence of life here in Africa. I thought back to planting my garden at home, and how I could just pull the hose out and water the garden whenever I wanted. I thought about the potatoes and corn that I left in the ground last year and what a waste that had been. I thought about Mai Vida and Gina, and how defeated they must feel when they look out and see a field of nothing….. it hit me harder than I expected. As the team cleared more and more, I came across the occasional pumpkin or little cucumber which I gladly showed to the family. It was a sign of hope for a field that was so dry and dying, but it was more than that. I really believe that God was showing us that despite the hopelessness of the land we were working, there was life, there was growth and there were yields. I think there are many times in life where it is so easy to focus only on the negative that is staring us in the face, but thank goodness for the reminders that God send us. It was a challenge to me to try and look for the positive things, the hope, in every situation…….. It also made me think to that verse in Joel 2:25 "I will restore to you the years which the swarming locust has eaten..” and that was my prayer for this family’s field and for this land…. That one day it would be restored.

We finished our time with the family by sharing food, having time of fellowship, working until there were open blisters on our hands, and even taking some time to catch a chicken or two…… It was a great experience. As we left the family, we said our goodbyes and our hearts with heavy with prayer for the friends that we had made. As a perfect end to our time, we were escorted to the road by Gina and many other children and while waiting Kelsey pulled out the balloons that she had brought and started sharing them with the children. I watched for a while, taking in the smiles, the dirty hands and faces as they played, the laughing mothers as they watched, and then I closed my eyes and listened to the laughter. What a refreshing sound to hear, the laughter of the children was like medicine for the our weary souls, yet another reminder that God was present, in control, and the joy surrounded our little group as we sat on the highway. I prayed that the lessons I had learned in those past few days would permanently be seared on my heart and soul, so that even as I returned to Canada, I would not forget the moments that had changed me. My prayer is that none of us would return home the same, and would have the courage to tell the things that we had learned as a way of honoring the people that struggle here day after day.

Blessings and love from Africa.

Suzanne

Strength Beyond Measure

We have been blessed as a team to be involved in many activities involving the women of the community. There are many lessons to be learned from the women of Mozambique, and we are challenged on many levels. This past week we had the opportunity to join a woman’s class and teach about child nutrition and then run a well baby clinic. As the little church building started to fill with women, I was taken aback as I recognized some familiar faces from last year. I saw three young women who had been at the school last year when we had visited, who now were carrying newborn babies. It was such a pull at my heart because these girls are still girls themselves, but now have the job of caring and raising a precious gift from heaven…..I wondered if they were ready, if they had really wanted to get married, or if they ever wished they could still be kids. I wondered how often they laughed, how hard they worked throughout the day, and if they were happy. It was amazing to me to think of 15 year old girls becoming wives and mothers, and not only that, but in Africa, where the struggles are so much more raw. I wondered as they held those little babies in front of them, whether they knew how to love the babes, or if they were just slipping into a customary role?

It blessed my heart though, as the church filled, to see so many women come with their little ones to learn. The women of Mozambique are not given many opportunities to learn even the basics of reading or writing, and so these classes that happen every Thursday as so valued. It has struck me over and over again how mothers are mothers no matter where you are, and these women are no different. As we started the weighing for the well baby clinic, the women lined up and brought their children one by one to get weighed. Controlled chaos is what I called it, as the babies started wailing their complaints, and the women laughed and talked. It was a bit overwhelming at times. After the weighing the women joined another line and waited to hear what the status of their children was.

It saddened me at the end of the day to hear that only a few children were at a good weight, and the majority was underweight. Looking around, I saw many worried faces as the mothers waited, concerned for their children and also for their friends. One woman caught my arm as I walked through the line and thanked me in her language and I humbly accepted and reached out and touched the head of her little one. I wish the solution to the starving and struggling could be found, I wish that I could offer that Mom the answer that she was looking for, I wish I had endless money so that I could offer the food and nutrients that these children needed. I did stop and pray at that moment though, because I am more and more aware of God’s listening ear to our prayers. He knows the number of hairs on each of our heads, he knew all of those babies when they were in the safety of the womb, He knows the suffering and the pain, and so we pray.

The strength of the people we have the pleasure of working with was highlighted for me this week as I worked in the clinic. Saturday morning a few of us started the walk to the clinic from camp which is 2km and at times can seem a bit of a long distance. Once getting to the clinic and starting to see people that had been waiting there, I learned that many of them had walked from the community that we had been in the previous Thursday for the well baby clinic… a distance of 15 km. There was a heavy cloud hanging over me as I started hearing the problems that had brought these people such a far way…. Chronic drainage from their children’s ears and hearing loss, malaria for which we had no medication, asthma, malnutrition, fever of unknown reasons…… it just went on and on. I sat there listening, praying for wisdom knowing that the supply of medication that we had would only last a little while and knowing that most of the problems would not require medication. But the struggle was so difficult as I looked into their eyes knowing that they had walked such a long way for me to offer them some advice, a prayer, and then send them back down the road.

Just when I thought that I had seen the most challenging cases, a woman whom I had met at the well baby clinic walked in and my jaw dropped. This woman was in her late 40’s, had 6 children, and her year old twins were in her arms. I quickly inquired as to how she had come, and she explained that she had walked the long distance…..with two babies. Her face told me of years of hardship and worry, her thin body told me of her hard work, her hands on her babies’ heads told me of the deep love that she had for her children. I asked her how she was feeling and she just started telling about her children, their weight was too low, they had ear and chest infections, they weren’t eating as well, etc, etc. Her eyes spoke of the desperation that she was feeling and without even asking, I knew that she had seen the result of this harsh environment before and she was willing to anything, even walk for 15km with two children, to ensure that her babies wouldn’t die. I talked with her a while, looked at her children’s ears and listened to their chests, and found that they were doing quite well. I offered her advice of what she could feed her children, and she replied gently by telling me she didn’t have money to buy the food her children needed.

Then it made sense in my mind as I looked at her almost wasted body. She was breastfeeding these children, because she had nothing else. Imagine that for a minute….imagine knowing that if the milk stopped, if your body quit, that your children would starve to death….. After our short time together, she thanked me for my help, and then went outside to sit under a tree with her children to rest before the journey home.

Strength and love were the only words that came to mind when I thought of her. How could you measure that amount of strength, I knew that it was impossible to measure the depth of love for her children. As I continued to think about that, the next little face came in the clinic and the day continued, but my thoughts have never been far from that mother……..and the things that she taught me. I am honored many times over to have little moments like that one while in Africa, honored by the examples of strength, honored by the relationships that I have been blessed to find, and humbled beyond words…………

Much love from Africa to you all

Suzanne

What does it mean to love?

I have seen things in Africa that have helped me to understand what it is to truly love. Not the kind of superficial love that only deals with the pleasant things in life but the love that speaks to the hard places in life.

There is a woman here by the name of Lydia who cares for her grandchildren who are orphans as well as an older woman with leprosy (Ania). Lydia herself is a grandma, she isn’t young. She should be enjoying her “golden Years” and instead of receiving care she is busy giving care. She gives of her time, her energy, her “wealth” and most of all, she gives of her love. Ania struggles with leprosy, she has no fingers and most of her toes are gone. She has open wounds where the flies love to nest. She has broken her hip and can hardly get around. She isn’t one of the lovely by the world standards and I’m sure there are many days when Lydia wants to rest, to take life easy. But she doesn’t, she works so that her grandchildren can have a better life. She works so her friend can have food to eat. She shares all she has with others in a way I’m not sure most of us would be willing to do. She inspires me to look beyond myself and see the needs of others. To share what I have with those around me.

She makes me realize how much I have been given and how little time I spend giving to others, even to those I love let alone to those who are “unlovely”. I don’t know if Lydia knows God but she exemplifies the love the Lord has for us. She teaches me what real deep love looks like. What it means to be Jesus to another human being.

I have realized how much I look out for “#1” and how little I look beyond myself and what I need or want. These people who have nothing freely offer what they do have to a neighbor or a friend or a stranger for that matter. We have everything we can ever really need and yet we hold onto our little stashes with all our might. Why is that? Why is it that those who have so much share so little really and those who have so little share all they own? They understand how much it means to someone to just simply sit, offer yourself to them by offering your time. Today we are going to visit an orphan family and I get the privilege of going to spend time and work for a family. The head of this family is an older woman, a grandma who has lost one leg to a landmine. She cares for her daughter who is blind. She gets firewood, water, and tends the garden everyday with her one leg and her crutch. She gives her all she has and today we get to care for her just a little. I pray I can practice the Gospel of presence with her. To love her deeply even if it is just for a little while. I pray that the Lord will show her how much he loves her through what we do today and that he will let me be there, truly be there with her today.

I wrote the above last night. Today we spend time with this grandma and her blind daughter. The blind daughter had gone early in the morning to walk a long way to get firewood and then find her way home again. I couldn't believe it. The grandma didn't really want us to do much. We ended up sitting with her. It was actually very hard to sit and not do. This gospel of presence is hard work. I want to do, to fill the silence, to do something tangible. Yet she wanted us to be there with her...just to be present. It was hard and yet beautiful. I learned that this means a lot to her. At the end of the day we prayed for her and then Jean asked if she would pray for us. I was so close to tears during that prayer. I have never felt the power of God so clearly or so deeply as I did today. I won't ever forget that. Tomorrow we are going back and even though I learned a lot today about the Gospel of presence my humanity still says "I want to DO something for her". I'm not sure what to pray for except that we would be open to what the Lord wants to do in and through us.

practicing the Gospel of presence
Shannon

Sadness inspite of hope.......

Our hearts are heavy as a team today as we heard of Horacio’s death this morning at devotions. Our team had been visiting him every day and I knew when I saw him yesterday that it wouldn’t be long. Horacio had developed sores on many of his bone due to the complete wasting of his tissue, and his pain was worsening by the day. Despite the families excellent care, lying on the dirty floor in his small hut, Horacio was becoming more and more weak. We were able to go yesterday afternoon to pray with the family, and as Shannon closed in prayer for Horacio and our hands touched his frail, broken body, we prayed that God would take him and end his suffering. His small child was lying sleeping beside her dad, just as many of the children that I love so dearly at home cling to their fathers, and I knew that for Horacio, the presence of his child was ministering to his heart much more than our pain meds. God does answer prayer, and despite the deep sadness that entered my heart when I heard the news, I am thankful that Horacio had heard about Jesus and how much He loved him. I believe that Horacio is in heaven today where there is no pain, no tears, and no suffering.
Our thoughts and prayers now go to his family. His older sister Graca, who has been a piller of strength caring for his brother and family. His young wife…who now joins the many widows known to this place. His other family members who will be mourning the loss of a son, brother, and friend. My thoughts go to his small child who is just starting out life at the age of 2 who will not have a father to cling to. That child will not have the strength and protection that a father can provide, and will grow without the relationship of a father that many of us take advantage of having. I think to my family at home and how much I love them and I imagine the extent of the grief that they must be feeling. I can’t imagine watching my brother die slowly from a disease that is completely preventable. I can’t imagine the feelings of hopelessness, anger, desperation, and fear that would enter my heart. What is even more tragic, is that all over Africa, and throughout our world, there are countless fathers, mothers, and children that are lying in a hut or in their home dying from a disease that could be stopped. My grief that I feel for this family is such a minuscule fraction of the grief that God must be feeling as He looks that the world that He created and sees the pain that has been caused. I know that God has not forgotten this place, I know that He loves every person so much, and I whole heartedly believe that one day…. This pain will all stop. We are blessed as Christian to have that hope to cling to in seemingly times of hopelessness. My heart is breaking today for those that don’t have that hope, and the fear that they must face. Please pray for the family of Horacio, and please pray for our team as we go today to offer our support and love. Thank you so much for your prayers.

Special time for Shannon with Horacio

Thursday of this week I had the incredible opportunity to visit with Horacio again. This time it was just Keren, myself, and Rick and we were going with the intention of sharing with him about the love of Jesus. Normally I work with Christians and so it isn't an every day occurrence for me to really share from my heart about the God that I love. At least not with the hope that they will embrace Him for the first time. This time, I went there hoping beyond hope that he would want to know Jesus because I knew he was suffering and in deep need of the Savior. We arrived and were warmly greeted again by this amazing family. Families here seem to include the entire village and often times when we meet with Horacio there are various family members present and it isn't always easy to tell who is who. On this day, everyone came to listen to what we were talking with him about. We arrived and he was laying on a mat outside his mother's hut with a couple of blankets over top of him. Not comfortable for a man in his condition but I thought perhaps that the fresh air felt good to him and so I thanked God for the sunshine and prayed that it would make his body warm.

We sat along one side of him on small benches or stumps carved into chairs. The family was surrounding us. Keren spoke with them through Rick about his medical condition and once this was complete I was asked to share with him what I had come to say. I was nervous and afraid. This was so important...perhaps the most important words that would ever come out of my mouth. I had prayed all along that they would not be my words but God's words so I hadn't really prepared anything. I started out telling him that I had been thinking about him since we last met and how I could best help him. I told him that I was not a nurse and so could not help him in this way but that I knew of someone who could help him. I then told him about the Lord and how just like he is a father who loves his child, God is our Father and he loves us even beyond how much he loves his child. As our Father, he doesn't desire for us to suffer and so he has created a place for us where there is no suffering and there is no pain. I spoke about a few things but before I could get very far he wanted us to pray. I was taken a back but I don't claim to know God's plan and so I prayed.

I wanted so much for Horacio to understand and to seek God but as Rick says...this life with God isn't so much about a day and a time but rather it is a journey towards Him. We in North America like to nail it down to a specific moment or this big magical experience but it often isn't that at all. After I prayed Rick spoke and told of his brother who had suffered for many years until the Lord took him home and how he now has confidence that he is in heaven with Jesus and now he is strong and can dance again! I could see a change coming for Horacio and the entire family was agreeing as he spoke. I am so thankful to God for allowing me to be there at this moment in time to watch him work and to perhaps be some of God's words and His hands to Horacio. After Rick spoke we again prayed for Horacio and I count this one of life's greatest privileges. I don't think I will ever think of prayer in the same way again. It is an honor to come before my God and to know he hears not only my words but my hearts desire. I desire more than anything for Horacio to know God intimately and for him to no longer suffer.

After the prayer we had a chance to show the family some exercises for them to do with him to help with circulation etc... As I knelt at this man's feet and touched them gently I realized that his feet were so cold. After my father's stroke I would often rub his poor cold feet and it would make them feel so much better. It was one of the ways I could really show him I loved him. God prompted me to do the same for Horacio, to show him love just as I had shown my Dad so I leaned over and held his cold feet in my hot hands and began to rub them a little. I took each one and held them and smiled my brightest smile. I wanted to, in some tangible way to show him I cared about his suffering and so does our Heavenly Father.

While I can't be sure Horacio has made a decision to follow Jesus, I do know that God gave me a true sense of peace that day. I know God heard our prayers and knows his heart. Today we visited him again and that same sense of peace was there. Before when I would look into Horacio's eyes I saw nothing but despair. Total despair. Instead today there was this brightness to his eyes that wasn't there before. As we emerged from his hut Heather pointed out a huge rainbow that was overhead. The colors were so bright! We all felt that this was sent to us for this time. I don't believe Horacio will be with us long and my heart is deeply grieving for his wife and little child and the rest of his family. He is so young. But I rejoice in the knowledge that God sees our hearts and knows us intimately. He knows Horacio and I pray I will see him in heaven, strong and dancing!

Shannon

A Perfect Reminder to End the Day

I am sitting here covered in dirt from head to toe after a very eventful day. I will blog later about the amazing church service we went to, the families we visited and I can't wait to tell the story of the tire blowing and how Keren and I met the task of changing the tire in the Africa bush......so funny.

I did want to give you an update on the three people that we have been seeing. I went to check on them this evening and for the most part was encouraged. Bachageza wasn't feeling any worse, and his pain seemed to be getting better. We still don't know exactly what is going on there, but we are trusting God for healing and doing are best to care for him. He seemed to be walking a bit better, and I think the swelling is coming down in his legs, so that is a bit encouraging. His entire family came out to greet us which always blesses my heart, and his newest daughter is only 3 weeks old, I think I had said 2 months prior to this. I am going to be taking some of the students to the clinic tomorrow, so we will make the rounds to see these people and I will let you know how they do. Please continue to pray for them.

The little Grandma that has been having Abd pain was also a bit better today. She didn't have fever and some of the medications that she has been taking are starting to work. I was such a blessing to sit beside her and listen as the nursing students prayed for healing and peace. She is such a strong woman and she teaches us all so much through her example of perseverance.

We also checked in on Horacio and his family and that situation continues to remain grave. His pain was a little better after some of the medication, but what I noticed even more was the sense of peace in the room. Even though the family is still anxious.... how could they not be, Horacio didn't seem as desperate or to be begging me with his eyes as much. As I was assessing him, I noticed though that he has now developed a bad case of thrush throughout all of his mouth and most likely down his throat....which again further supports our suspician of AIDS. I sometimes have to stop and take a deep breath to release the tension in my heart as I think of this man.... but God knows all and I believe He is holding Horacio through all of this. Tonight as Shannon prayed again for peace, healing, and relief from the pain... it was so evident that God was there. As we left the tent, we were given such an amazing reminder through a beautiful rainbow in the sky.... a sign of God's promise to us all. It was as if God was telling our team that He is there with us, He knows all that is happening, He is in control, and that He knew that we needed some encouragement. What a great God we serve. Horacio's days are numbered, but I believe that he will be in heaven where there is no pain, suffering or tears. Until then, we will continue to love him as best as we can.

Thank you for your prayers, Shannon and I will try and get some pictures up so that you can see the experiences that are touching our hearts. The students are doing so well, and they laughter is often heard despite their sadness. I know that this is challanging all of us in so many ways, but I also know and have seen over and over how their presence here with these people is blessing so many.

Must run and shower... much love to you all..

Andrew...... you would have been proud of me today as crawled under the van and jacked it up to change the tire...... miss and love you!

Suzanne

Ministry of Presence and Compassion

Hello Everyone, it has been a very busy week here in Mozambique and our team have been faced with many different things. After the initial shock of being in Africa, the team has settled into their new home and it has been a fun adventure getting used to all of the changes. The staff at the camp is so welcoming and makes us feel like family in so many ways which has helped the transition to be much easier. One of my most favorite times is when we all gather in the mornings to have devotions with all of the staff, workers, and visitors. One of the local Pastors, and very good friend, François shared early this week about the importance of the ministry of presence as we care for others. He challenged us to seek out the opportunities to look each other in the eyes and truly see what struggles were weighing heavy on our neighbors hearts. He spoke of compassion and love for the needy and sick, and as the week continued, that has resonated so many times as our team has been given many opportunities to care for the people we are in contact with.
The week started with our team touring the different communities, schools, clinic, and being able to be part of a women’s meeting. In Africa, women are not given the opportunity to go to school like they are in Canada, and the education of women is not valued. One of the passions of ASAM is to support the education of women, and so many different communities have been blessed with the Thursday morning education sessions. It was such a blessing for our team as we sat on a matt on the dirt and watched the women walk in to meet us under a tree. These women were of all ages, even a 62 year old Grandma came to try and learn to read and write. School is a bit different for them though, as they come with their babies on their back, a small tattered notebook and some broken pencils. But as I sat there and watched I was amazed at the concentration on their faces and the strong desire to learn. Despite the huge obstacles in their way, these women meet under a tree once a week, to learn to read and write bible verses with eager hearts. The nursing students were able to share some of their information, but I know that these women taught all of us so much more through their example of dedication and the warm loving spirits that each of them displayed.
Our team was met with much joy this week as we toured the school and preschool. The children although a bit hesitant at times quickly warm up to the students and are eager to hold hands, laugh, and play games. Despite their obvious hunger and need, they are the same kids as what we see in Canada and desire to be loved and cherished. It is hard to express in words what it is like to have a little child with a dirt stained face look at you and smile and quietly slip their little hand in yours. It especially blessed my heart as I saw little faces that I recognized from last years trip and heard them quietly whisper “Suzannah” as they pointed to me. It reminded me of the responsibility that we have as a team to these children and the impact that our visits make in their lives. We aren’t able to remove them from their circumstances, and we aren’t able to take away their entire struggle. But we have been given the opportunity to share love with them, laugh with them, and communicate how precious they are…. That is an honor that I cherish and one that can easily be overlooked. It was so great to see the faces of the students as they were able to experience this relationship for the first time. Their laughter joined with the children as they played soccer, or looked at the wall paintings, or just stood holding hands. I could see the passion building in the students lives which excited me as I know that God has brought each of them here for a purpose.
After the school, we were able to go and see the clinics that have been running now for years. The students were able to meet the three Soccarista’s – nurses that have been working and training here, and also get a feel for their environment. I am always amazed at how hard these men work, and how much they care for the people in the community. Even though this is my fourth visit to these clinics, it always shocks me at the contrast between their little rooms and the huge ER I work in at home. Their medication and supplies are low and they have many sick people to see, and yet they are excited and smiling while they work. We are excited as a team to be able to help in these clinics. As we were leaving the clinic, we were greeted with I would call God’s reminder of hope in a place that is often hopeless. A brand new baby, her mother who had delivered her throughout the night, and a local birth attendant were bringing the baby to be weighed. The mother, although tired, stood with pride holding the little girl and as I peeked through the blankets and saw the little lips and nose, and head of hair, I praised God for his blessing of new life. All babies are precious and I am blessed to be part of deliveries back home in Canada, but somehow in Africa, where death and new life are so raw…. The presence of a new little one spoke of God’s faithfulness and joy so loudly to my heart.

Our team was also faced with many difficult struggles this week….. The reality of Africa hit like a ton a bricks to all of us.

We met a Grandma from the community that has suffered with her health for many years. Recently she has broken her hip, and now is struggling with Abdomen pain and digestion difficulties. As we walked up to see her, we found her lying on a cold cement pad outside of her house with blankets around her shoulders. It was obvious that she was in pain and not doing well as she moaned quietly as I assessed her. What struck many of us the most was that she was a Grandma lying on a cold hard floor, by herself…… and it was hard to see? I have met this Grandma many times in the past, and I know that she isn’t alone. She is part of a community, and I have learned time and time again in Africa how much they value Community. This Grandma has a neighbor woman that cares for her and is always looking after the needs of the children, and the other members of their community. I was challenged as I thought back to my own neighborhood, and reflected on how limited my view of community is. In Africa, these people depend on each other, work together to raise their children, and are eager to help each other and despite their own needs, care for each other. What a great lesson and example they set for us all. We will continue to support this little family and care for this woman in any way that we can while we are here.
Difficult seems like such an understatement as I think about the next man that we met. We were told by one of the health workers that a man wasn’t doing very well and by the sounds of his condition, I knew we were walking into a difficult situation. As I walked and heard a little of the story of this man’s condition, my stomach dropped, and I tried to prepare myself for what we were going to see. We were told that this man had been feeling poorly for a while, that he had been struggling with TB, and has been hospitalized many times, and was again feeling sick. As I walked into the community and between the huts, the anxiety was very evident in the faces that I saw. We were welcomed warmly and I stepped into the hut where this man was and as I looked at the mat and saw Horacio, my heart sank. I looked at sunken face, his arms that were thinner than my wrist, his protruding bones and I knew I was in the presence of one of the worst diseases known. I struggled between stopping my tears and my turning stomach as I reached out and held his hand and began assessing his very frail body. His family quickly moved to get us all chairs, which broke my heart….. even in their state of crisis… they were serving me. I sat in the hut with some of the team members, and as I listened to the family tell the story, I stopped to see Horacio looking up at me with a longing that I have never seen. Perhaps he was longing for pain relief, or maybe he was longing for his the unknown future of his baby that was crying beside him. Maybe he was thinking about his young wife, and wondering what was going to happen to her and his other family members. His eyes were pleading, searching, and so full of pain and I felt such strong feelings of helplessness. His family was anxious to tell me that they knew this wasn’t AIDS, because he had been tested and they were told he was negative. They were clinging to hope, the only hope that they knew which came in the form of paper that had been given to them from the hospital.
We asked them to bring us the papers, offered some medication for the pain and promised to return to support them however we could. Shannon, my co-leader sat across from me in the hut, and her heart spoke the same desire that we all wanted - for this man to know Jesus. Thankfully, she and some of the team have been able to speak with him about God’s love and the hope that comes through knowing Jesus, although we don’t know for sure what decision this man has made we are believing that the prayers that have been made in that tent have been heard. On my last visit to Horacio prior to writing this, the family brought out a little bag holding the papers from the hospital. As Heather – a local Missionary – and I opened the papers we discovered that the test results the family was clinging to as a negative for AIDS was in fact the results of the TB test. I felt so frustrated and saddened on many levels…. How could this happen. But it does. AIDS, a preventable disease continues to rob people of the lives that were intended for them. I sat in the hut and looked into the eyes of the young wife that most likely would become a widow, I looked at the small children that may lose their father, and I held the hand of Horacio who is very possibly dying as we prayed. It was so hard for me as I looked around at this family, the presence of death in the hut was so heavy, his childs cries into the night, his young wifes face….. it was so hard. We have no idea of this kind of devastation in Canada, no idea……We tried to make him comfortable, and then left the family to huddle together around the fire in the African night……..I am unsure what will happen, but I am sure of the God that I pray to and His goodness, sovereignty and promises that one day this will all end.
Further challenges have met the team in another family of a worker on the farm named Bochageza. He also is a young man that seems to have a mass growing in his upper abdomen about the size of a small nerf ball. He was hospitalized, but we heard that he wasn’t receiving any care and so he was brought home. We were thankful to hear that he had received some IV fluids but puzzled at the report that on his chest x-ray they saw a big white circle. As a team, we are very limited in the medical care that we can give without a physician, x-ray results, CT scans, medications and all of the other health care that is so readily available in Canada. But, we are determined to do our best with what we have. The future is very uncertain for this young man, and as I held his new little baby girl, and looked around at his family, I was again challenged by how young these people are and how great their suffering is. As a team, our desire was to be the hands and feet of Christ as we came to Africa, and we have so many opportunities to do just that. The medicines, although helpful, can’t solve this problem. The local hospital wasn’t able to offer any help, and the options for other medical care are very limited. It seems hopeless, and it could be very easy to just feel like we are here watching people die. But, I believe there is a bigger purpose and I know that my understanding is not God’s understanding. In the Bible there is much testament of God’s healing but along with the healing was compassionate loving care that we as a team can only hope to try and model. The first thing that Jesus did when he went to see the ones with leprosy, was to touch them and we want to try and love the way that Jesus did. We aren’t able to heal, but we know the God who can and we are praying for those miracles to happen. Our hearts break for these people, we cry because of the pain that we see but we are determined to touch these people so they know that despite their pain, Jesus loves them so. Please continue to pray for our team as we continue to walk through the opportunities opened to us to minister to the people here. I will update you on these and other stories soon.

Much love to all of you back home.

Suzanne

And it begins

And it begins……

It is hard to believe that I am writing you again from Africa, I am so blessed to have returned to this place again for the fourth time. As the team got settled on the plane leaving Calgary, I sat looking out the window at what I call my “world” and had a sense that God was going to challenge that view in many ways again this year. I spent some time thinking and praying about my loved ones, and opening my heart to what God wanted to teach me. One thing I have learned about God is that if I am willing to be open and soften my heart to what He wants to teach me, it is often a difficult but essential time of discovery. However, another fact that has remained is how faithful our God is in supplying all of our needs and walking…even carrying us through those learning times. I left Calgary with much anticipation in my heart to see what God has planned for this time, what He was going to teach all of us through this experience, and for the opportunities He as going to open for us to care for people.
We arrived in Beira a few flights later quite tired but praising God for the many mercies we were given over the trip. The customs officials through all of the stops were incredibly simple, even at one point when our team was separated. Despite the long flights, and little sleep the girls were remarkably chipper and remained excited despite the exhaustion that was inevitable. We sat as a team and prayed prior to our flight to ask for the safe delivery of the precious cargo of medications and medical supplies that we were carrying, and God answered that prayer very promptly. Only one bag was searched, and despite a few raised eyebrows by the somber faced official, he gave a quick nod and then smiled saying “welcome to Mozambique”. What a relief…….. Praise God for his provision. The journey ended after a four hour drive to the camp site in which in darkness of the African night seemed to engulf us. But I felt that the true journey just began as the team settled into their tents. I remember finally lying down and listening to the Africa night and my thoughts remained asking God what He had in store for us……. It didn’t take long for that answer to come.
Challenges come in every size, shape and color especially in Africa. This became very real to many of the team members as the first night in Africa brought many things. Despite the countless bugs, unidentified flying objects that would making a “whooshing” sound as they flew close to our heads, animals digging at the tent throughout the night….the team has settled in with screaming as the main coping style. I chuckled to myself one evening as the screams came from the bathroom thinking how we must sound to the witch doctor that lives across the river. Often the beating of the drums and the sounds of their singing echo down the river bed, but image what we sound like to them? I am happy to say the screaming has lessened, and the team has become a little more accustomed to their new “friends”.
There have been many things that have caught my eye and my heart already while I have been here. The poverty that is an everyday reality here always shocks me, and I am thankful for that. In Canada, I am blessed with so many things, and coming here to see what other live with is a perspective that I hope will cure my lips and tongue of any kind of complaining. Seeing the dirt stained smiling faces, the partially standing huts, the rags that children are wearing and the hunger in the eyes of almost everyone I see rocks my emotions to the core. I have found Mozambique to be a land of stark contrasts though, as the beauty of God’s creation acts as a background for the devastation that is so blatantly clear. I know that as the days continue, and the team starts to venture out into the community that even more will be seen and our hearts will be torn between the joys and suffering that is present every day.
Thank you all for praying for us as we travelled. We know that God is leading this trip and has called each of us here for a purpose. We also know that we couldn’t do this type of trip without the prayers and support from back home, and we are so grateful. I will try to post more stories and pictures as the days continue.

Blessings on all of you.

Suzanne

On Our Way....

Hi Everyone,

Thank you so much for supporting our teams as we have been so busy preparing to go to Mozambique. We are so blessed to have so many loved ones and friends that are joining us in this journey through their prayers. The first team of students will be leaving on May 16th followed by the second team a few weeks later. We covet your prayers for safe travel for the teams. Please come and visit this blog as I will endevour to update at least weekly with stories and pictures of our time here.

Blessings !

Suzanne