I sleep in and miss my ride to New Hope. No worries, I am well rested and ready to get my creative on.
At lunch we bid Mo goodbye as he starts his journey home. K and I will stay until Friday. She is hoping for an audience with the Commissioner in Dar es Salam who is in charge of discounts for Non-profit NGOs. If she is successful, we could start building staff housing with the money saved.
Our afternoon is spent at Monday Market. There is a magnificent blue sky dotted with light sharing clouds. I breathe deeply of the sparkling day.
My favorite geologist comes with us and blesses us as our interpreter. We take her to pick out a shuka of her own and meet a darling named Nosee. Nosee has an eye for detail and service. She facilitates every step of the process with confidence and an assurance of quality; from the choice of design to the shuka sewing ladies. Massi will be a vision of beauty when she rocks the bright blue and reds.
All along the way, we are greeted by locals calling out K’s name. Pastor P told us she is famous here and Market day is just the place to see. It is so fun to see her shine as she greets each one with an inviting vigor that makes them shine as well.
I do a bit of shining myself as I see a blue Suzuki Samurai, one of my first and favorite cars. I always called it ‘me in the form of a car’ and somehow this one delights my heart as mine did long ago.
Though it is cooler in the shade, it is a warm day but I don’t seem to notice my fatigue. The sights, smells, sounds and people propel me forward as each step takes me deeper into gratitude.
The clouds swoop down from the heights, pink tinged hovering as a new day breaks into the song of the living. It’s church day! Soon, we will be singing and dancing just like the twittering, chirping, cawing delights who welcome us now.
The Day
The bright yellow weaver birds are out in darting abundance, brilliant against the soft emerging green of thorny acacia. The red breasted meadowlark pauses long enough for this paparazzi to capture his remarkable pop of color as it illuminates the drab.
Our Kafika House friends gather and we pray for their journey, holding hands in a circle before we go to church at New Hope!
It is a bright day with cooling breezes as we join the prelude of song that welcomes us all to worship. There is a new keyboard and towering speaker and the music, familiar and joyous, can be heard across the land.
My favorite geologist, Massi Zgenzi, is by my side. She is described by her boss as his youngest and brightest and is here to oversee the drilling which she must wait for, just as we do. She is a kid- and people magnet and her sweetness, energy and light are my delight. We choose seats near the children and as they warm to us, we find ourselves surrounded. Mission accomplished!
The prelude dancing soon begins. I am becoming more adept at the Maasai shoulder dancing though admittedly that is from my perspective. It is a whole body workout to keep up, which I don’t, but I try. I feel like the one awkward clown who dances to her own inner rhythm. My hands as usual take on a dance of their own and I won’t mention my foot situation.
There is one child who is standing off by herself dressed in a radiant chartreuse dress. I catch her eye and motion for her to join me. It takes a bit but when she decides I’m ok, her face breaks into the most dazzling smile. I am captivated by her for the rest of the service. How can so much joy spill over from just one small bundle of beauty? She, as a living picture of beauty, connects me to the uncontainable, lavishness of God’s love. Mission accomplished again!
After getting our joy out, we have been made ready for the next celebration, Baptism! The cinder block baptismal just outside the pavilion has been built, lined and filled. Pastor Peter and Pastor Mo, wearing his Baptism Made New t-shirt from home, do the honors for our three eager young adults. They are presented to the congregation before, baptized and then celebrated again. They are given new robes to symbolize being welcomed into our family name! They, too, are living examples of God’s overflowing beauty and love in action.
Joy, like a deep well that is constantly refilling our cisterns when we seek our Living water, follows us back to the pavilion for more triumphant praise.
Mo delivers a well crafted sermon that communicates complex concepts of faith in beautifully simple, cultural enhancing, imagination engaging insights. He is a man of God gifted with many remarkable talents. It has been my blessing to work alongside him.
For lunch, we are treated to our excess New Hope roosters. Apparently, roosters are mean and give new meaning to the word Peck-ish. There are 7 of them and they are harming the egg laying hens so… it is a multifaceted and thoughtful gift for Sunday dinner.
My K opens a mini clinic for two church members in need of specialized care. She is an unstoppable investigator of Truth and history. I am amazed at how she parses through so many, sometimes conflicting, details until she arrives at the most viable course of care. She, also, is God’s beauty in motion.
Though I have been more of an observer on this trip, I have had a front row seat to the wonder workings of our God displayed in His people. How He equips and calls and sends and equips again. How He displays His depth of intimate, personal knowing of each one of us as He enlarges our capacity to see and be His beauty. It is a precious, sacred thing to be invited by God to work alongside each other to advance His kingdom.
See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! I John 3:1
I am back at the foot of Ketumbiene Mountain. The soft wisping of clouds move quickly across the sun rising illumination of the mountain. Its peak shrouded in the becoming of the day. Light and shadow in the interactive daFridayncing of the dawn, the clouds act as a floating frame mimicking the constancy of the movement of time.
Each visit brings new changes to New Hope. The movement of time is also marked by the building progress of this new growth. The steadfastness of the mountain splendour in contrast to the becoming of New Hope is a picture of a believing life: an ever evolving work rooted in the splendour of God’s never changing immutability.
It is shalom quality good to be back.
The Day
We have been granted a government permit to drill the well and so the drilling rig and crew have been mobilized. They are 200km away and it will be slow going on sketchy roads. We may expect them by Sunday.
The massive drilling apparatus creates a picture in my head of the Jawa sandcrawler of Star Wars as it lumbers across Tatooine or in this case, Tanzania.
I am full of my own thoughts and prayers and today have been blessed with the opportunity to toss them about. I spend the day at our guest house as my team attends to the innumerable details of God’s work here.
Lying on my bed, I listen to the approaching thunder until it, at last, arrives with the pelting, cleansing rain. I ponder a recurrent troubling dream that rumbles like the weather around my head and heart. The dream events are not true but the deep emotions they evoke are. I don’t much like them but I offer them up seeking the cleansing their pelting will provide.
A friend, I don’t know yet, is struggling mightily with persistent, debilitating pain and my thoughts lead me to her. I think of a poem I once wrote: The Chisel of Pain. I begin it with a quote:
“Help me to understand the nature and purpose of pain. If it is the chisel that crafts our character, chipping away until God is formed in us…then if I avoid pain, I also avoid the person the Father would have me be.” Ken Gire (Gire. Ken: Intense Moments with the Savior pages 113-114)
I spend the rest of my time mulling over the problem of pain and how I might encourage my friend with the lessons God has given me.
Saturday.
A paraphrasing of Exodus 31:1-5
Then the Lord said to New Hope, “I have chosen a woman from the tribe of Ramsland to do some special work for me. Her name is Kelly, daughter of the Most High I have filled her with the Spirit of God— I have given her the skill and knowledge to do all kinds of things. She is a very good designer. And she can make things. She will cut and set beautiful jewels upon the land. She can do all kinds of work. I have also chosen Kayla to work with her. Kayla is a daughter of the Most High from the tribe of Hansen. And I have given skills to all the other workers so that they can make everything that I have commanded.
Come Holy Spirit. Craft Your Tabernacle of Hope on this hill Bring Your Living Water to this dry and thirsty land. We want You to be seen! ****** The foothills are alive with the music of dawn; whirring, clicking, bleating, whistling. There is a bird calling his mother, with high pitched urgency and rapid repetition, “Ma! Ma!” He says. Ma appears to answer with her own insistent piercing voice, “What? What?”. Neither noticing the reply of the other. I open my eyes to see if I have been transported back to my own living room and smile.
The beauty of the pillowy softness of the hidden mountain peaks with their dusting of gossamer strands of fluff on the hillsides below opens me. There is moisture in the air and freshness all around and within.
There are chirps and quirks and squeaky toy sounds that quiet as I approach Philip’s trees. Guava and Peach flourishing together. I see small Guava fruits emerging. We planted these trees on a past trip. I was given barely a stick of a peach tree. So pitifully frail, they gave me a hearty guava plant instead. I planted them both and today they make my heart glad.
Back at our homestead, we meet two of our three patients from clinic in July. They have come for followup treatment that is beyond the scope of our clinic. We have a darling in need of clubfoot surgery and one in need of hand surgery post burn. They will go to the Kafika House in Arusha where they will receive the comprehensive care they need pre-, during and post-surgery. This ministry will cover all the costs. A team of visiting surgeons will come this month. They are all miracle workers, really.
I took my very first Tanzanian patient to them in 2021 when they were known as the Plaster House. Their campus is nestled in the lush foothills of Mt. Meru and it was as lovely as the staff and care provided. I remember admiring an empty butterfly bench. It was empty because the patients fly away transformed by their journey here.
My darling today shares popcorn and cautious smiles with me and his sibling as we listen to the adults rangle on about details. He, his mom and younger sister will stay here tonight and start fresh in the am. We all gather around the dining room table for dinner, family style. It is a picture of God’s wedding feast and my heart is full with the possibilities that lie ahead for us all.
I am here to thank Him for His generosity, kindness and blessing, as He covers the team with His purpose and protection. These were my final words before sinking blissfully into rest last night. They are also my first words of the morning. Thank You, Lord, for this most amazing day.
It is a gentle rising with the sun. There is a nourishing freshness in the air. It is overcast and cool but I will not be deceived today. The sun in its power will burn away the early morning hush as it did yesterday, just not yet.
The morning will bring a series of meetings with accountants, lawyers and geologists. We had dinner last night with our delightful well digging team of geologists. They will begin their journey to New Hope today where water awaits a thirsty land. We will follow this afternoon.
A motorbike passes us on the busy road. It has a handmade sign on its handlebars: ‘Born to Shine’. It is a call to prayer. Like Moses whose face shined after meeting with God, we are invited to shine as a result of being in the presence of God.
Today the humidity is wrapping itself around me with the tightness of a vice and my head is throbbing. This also is a call to prayer. At home, I have learned to make my pain my consent to rest in God’s presence. So along with my handlebar reminder, I sit outside our Hydrology meeting in an open dialogue of thanksgiving with the One Who has been calling me all morning. I smile as I recite “It is WELL with my soul” only feet from my team talking about the well of Ketumbiene.
When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot Thou hast taught me to say, “It is well, it is well with my soul!” It is well with my soul! It is well, it is well with my soul! 2 Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, Let this blest assurance control, that Christ hath regarded my helpless estate, and hath shed His own blood for my soul. 3 My sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thought—My sin, not in part, but the whole, is nailed to His Cross, and I bear it no more; Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! 4 For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live; if dark hours about me shall roll, no pang shall be mine, for in death as in life. Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
As I sit singing, I hear my team sharing the Gospel. The discussion moves to comparing the freedom in Jesus with world religions. There is ease and laughter from both sides. I pray for the wellness of those souls inside.
Ahhh Tanzania. The delicious cool breezes. The darkness of the night illuminated by the twinkling lighted trees of the airport perimeter. I am greeted by my Tanzanian family. Pastor P’s enveloping hug. M and his shy smile. And Kalifa who greets me with a hearty Ooolala and tells me his wife is waiting for me in Ketumbiene. Every morning I would greet her with this greeting as she appeared from the kitchen arrayed in Ooolala splendour. The thing that speaks most joyfully to my heart is being known. The weariness of my traveling falls away in the presence of this family.
Wednesday
My Psalm for today is Psalm 90 and it becomes my prayer as well as we begin our detail gathering.
Psalms 90: 1, 16-17 A Prayer of Moses, the man of God.
1 Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.
16 May Your deeds be shown to Your servants, Your splendor to their children.
17 May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us— yes, establish the work of our hands.
May this day be all for Your Glory as You establish the work of Your hands through ours.
The Details
I made a map of Arusha filled with my four favorite places and realistically the only four places I know: the airport, our hotel, Mt. Meru hospital and Sable Square where I keep my Grant’s gazelles. Today I am introduced to the Clocktower. Built in 1957, it marks the ‘exact’ center of the 10,000 km Cairo-Cape road. When traveling, I rarely know the specifics of where I am on the earth. It is a surprise to me that there are 5,000 km on either side of me. It has always felt like I was more south. A map completes my education. Curious.
This trip is not a medical clinic team trip but rather a whirlwind gathering of details to be accomplished. Today we will shop for all the things needed for a newly built Lodge: the sheet shop, the appliance store, the router wonderland, the bed barn and the pavilion of paint, for a start.
It is bustling in downtown Arusha on this sunny, 78°, not too hot, day. It is the same temperature at home with only the slight variation of 55% humidity here. The breezing cuts its edge as I breathe deeply of the blessings all around me.
The appliance arena commands our first appointments. I see a sign: Power your culinary edge. Those of you who are familiar with Clifton Strengths, will smile with me. We do our strengths on every trip. It gives us a common language for building each other up. As part of every strength, there is a ‘power and edge’, a snapshot of the unique gifting the strength empowers. Today, we are powering our culinary and bathroomy edge.
The corner showers and tile ignite my imagination…perhaps I will move my bathroom renovation up my own list.
There is a bathtub in the shape of a gigantic cereal bowl fit for the whole family. My dogs couldn’t get in but oh how they would have fun…actually I don’t see how anyone could get in… curiousier.
My K has an eye for details that astounds me in its complexity and completeness. It ventures into every arena, pivoting into the adjacent without effort. She is as future thinking as she is firmly planted in present realities. She has a comprehensive plan for what is needed now and what will be needed later; cost, warranty, style, longevity; Sinks, tile, stoves, toilets, furniture…
I stand in awe of her at every turn, marveling at her giftedness. When I revisit my Psalm of the day, I realize that I am really in awe of our God Who has called and equipped her so magnificently.
In the late afternoon, standing in the furniture store listening to the wisdom of the team, I feel a bit obsolete, like my mind is in need of some capacity building to be more useful.
His purpose for my particular gifting on this trip has, admittedly, been elusive. His message in Psalm 90, again, informs my thinking and is reinforced by another random sign: Heaven’s Beauties glow naturally.
Today, as He establishes the work of His hands through ours, He does not need me to be another visionary mastermind with an uncanny ability to cover all the details. He invites me, instead, to celebrate and champion the heavenly beauties He sets before me. He invites me to shine with the natural glowing that comes from open dialogue with Him. Open dialogue with my Mastermind as He builds His work through His masterminds. How marvelous!
As the Psalm says, He has been our dwelling place in all generations and so it is true today as well.
We have an early morning departure day. The island volcano rises from the sugar cane plain in dark mysterious wonder. This was once the sugar cane capital of the world, they tell me.
In contrast, its evil twin is a prolilific weed called wild sugarcane. Pesky as it may be, its white feathery softness glows in the sunlight of the rising sun. It catches the light and shimmers as it softly moves in the breezes. It is magnificent. I will try to be a lightcatcher today as well.
We are going to Lakawon Island. It is a small island that is a 30 minute ferry ride off the northern shore. It is a private island resort with white sand beaches and starfish galore. It is reminiscent of Rocky Point back in the day. Thatched roofed cabanas called cottages line the beach. There is an open air restaurant and a swim up floating bar. This bar is quite a distance off shore and I am quite sure that I will not be ‘swimming’ up to it…unless they have those fish tacos from Rocky Point…
It is an overcast day with lovely ocean breezes that in the afternoon turn into wind propelled stinging sand missiles. The tide is out in the morning which cramps my style a bit but I am under the influence of cold medicine so I take a NAP meeting under the shade of a mini cottage and breathe in the moist, fresh air.
As the day ends, the light on water show tries to hold the stunning depth of God’s beauty. The clouds open to send a beam of silver to illuminate the water. I can follow it with my eyes all the way from the horizon to the shore. It is mesmerizing in its electric brillance.
As the sun begins its bedtime routine, the silver turns to vibrant color. It begins in the white puffy clouds toward the northern horizon hinting at light pink and coral but as it extends toward the silver it deepens in intensity. The resonant magentas and oranges explode flooding the water path with color and majesty.
It is God’s Word in Hebrews 4:12 displayed by the sunset:
4:12 For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to where the soul and the spirit are joined.
Intentionally allowing His beauty to penetrate and resonate in my inner being is always His invitation. He invites me to draw near to Him so that He can create the shalom, wholeness, of His original intention in me. And the shalom He creates in me, He uses to draw others to Himself and so on…
It is the transforming power of this receiving, sharing and receiving that draws me to Zoe Hope. To be embraced by God’s circle of giving is to be embraced by the same unparalleled beauty displayed in His sunset masterpiece.
I walk to breakfast after a fitful night of congestion and aches which seem to have resolved themselves. The sweet birdsong rallies my spirit as I feel welcomed into God’s garden in the coolest part of this day.
Last Cinic Day New Talistay City Public Market
Today, we serve in a mall. There are small shops on two levels with a food court that includes Myrna’s Refreshments. We are given a glass walled, air conditioned long room off to the side. It is snug but manageable.
Kind and curious and intuitive Risa returns to me, still anticipating my moves. Hypertension and diabetes continue to be the headliners but today my patients seem to be taking their meds with fine stabilizing effects. I do love when the plan of care works well.
Risa has a wisdom tooth giving her trouble so off she goes to the Dental truck. This trip we have the gift of a mobile dentist office that is providing tooth extractions. They have been with us everyday. I’m told that the average patient has 3-4 teeth extracted. There are those who have brilliant white smiles and others who do not. It is a great service but Wow so many teeth…
Midway through clinic I am called away to start an IV. This morning during devotions, I shared how my skills failed me in Africa. It was my intent to show how I was learning to rely on God instead of my skills. It seems ironic that I am then called to use my skills for the first time on this trip. I feel kind of sorry for my patient who might well be skeptical. Be a Frog I say to myself. Fully Rely on God and the IV slides right in.
I end the day with the last two patients. They are coworkers though they look like sisters and they both simply want vitamins. They want to improve their health, they say.
They are not alone in this request. Many of my patients today seem to be healthy and have come for vitamins. It is curious to me how they seem to value them above medicine and tell me repeatedly how beneficial they are for improving life. It is a simple blessing that they are so excited, satisfied and grateful to receive. I began the day expecting to give them medicine and I end the day simply being grateful alongside them.
Dinner
We gather for dinner with our interpreters. I sit at the end surrounded by my friends. R. is by my side. S. is across from me with J. beside him. They tell me their stories.
My soft spoken, kind R. leads with: my dad has been in prison for rape for 24 years and was recently released. He has two families and she wants to help her younger brothers succeed. She works for the government M-F. She spends her weekends oyster farming and eats oysters every night for dinner. She plays the trumpet in a band and rides a bike taxi for extra money.
She tells me the story of how we met this week and how she has looked for me everyday since. She likes the way I am patient with her and willing to teach her. I listen and nod. It is not so much a conversation as it is a sharing of her search for significance. Of course, she wants to be seen but more than that her openness is a way to give thanks, I think. This makes me wonder if we shouldn’t start a clinic week with a dinner like this but then, we would not have reason to give thanks or the safety of experience to fuel our connection.
S. is a trained chef, a photographer, and always asking God to show him where his next gifting lies. He tells me the whole intricate tale of love lost. She lives in Japan now. He is eager to share his story and connect it to mine. His mother is my age and travels the islands often. He sometimes doesn’t know where she is. This makes me smile. My Sam, back home, might say the same thing.
J. is a quiet young man and it takes a little bit to lure his story out. He is one of five sisters and so perhaps has learned to listen more than talk.
These three have been so present for me this week, eagerly seeking every opportunity to assist me. I often get so focused on caring for my patients I feel like I forget to learn about those who help me. This evening tells me I have been enough. It is a lovely blessing to end my week with them.
Thank you, Lord, again! for bringing our stories together so we can be reminders to each other that we matter to You!
Thursday. As I awaken, it sounds like the 30,000 thoughtless boys of my speech therapy youth are busy making a thunderous noise, complete with lightning and torrential rains. It is a symphony, or is it a cacophony, of God’s splendour.
I feel diminished this morning. My voice is strained, my throat is sore and its swollen punching bag is resting on the back of my tongue. It seems I may need to take a non speaking role in clinic until God intervenes and sends me tiny dots of brown out on the lawn. The longer I look, the better I see. There are frogs of all sizes spread out across the grass. They hop and stop remaining completely still, until repeating this morning routine countless times. A long ago VBS catch phrase comes to my mind: Be a Frog= Fully Rely On God. And so I shall.
Clinic Day 4 Barangay Zone 3
The rain has relented leaving an ambient dimness to the overcast day despite the scattered pockets of blue sky. Our clinic is a mostly covered but open air pavilion in the center of another busy part of town. The narrow uneven street out front is barely two way. Our conscientious driver tries to delicately maneuver to avoid puddles and holes to best serve us. Upon crossing I am pleasantly surprised to sense that it does not seem to be as oppressively hot today. I still welcome the fans, both human and electric.
Our patients are already in line when we arrive. I wave and they wave back. The rain may have delayed some but I feel confident we will not have a shortage.
Risa is back as my interpreter. She has an innate ability to appear right when I need her. When I praise her for this she stares blankly back at me. It is clearly a lost in translation situation. I will have to find a more relatable opportunity to encourage her servant heart.
I float between exams and pharmacy. Pharmacy, a non-speaking role btw, is short staffed today so I try to be aware of their need of support.
I just love when I greet my patients with a Filipino greeting, Mabuhuy! They receive it but almost always look to my interpreter for confirmation and laugh. I’m not sure if my attempt is hilarious or if they simply can’t believe their ears. This delights us both.
Kent is a popular name I am discovering and I have a few patients named so. Though none are paired with Clark, one stands out as a superhero perseverer who smiles despite his challenges. He is a severely malnourished 13 year old who also has asthma, diabetes and an allergy to our deworming pill, Mebenezole. While I’m assessing him, the drug Ivermectin randomly pops into my head. I am not so familiar with it but upon further investigation, it turns out to be exactly the drug I need to substitute for his allergy. I love it when God meets me at the point of my need, especially when I don’t even know I have a need.
Next, I have a set of 13 year old identical twins with identical concerns. Their dad is kind and gracious and clearly cares well for them. Asthma seems to be the soup de jour this afternoon as I have multiple patients, both old and young with histories of such. My twins are wheeze-free right now but still need hydration, inhalers and education. I wonder what it is like to have an identical twin right down even to disease.
Speaking of Wheezing. I am treated to a 1 year old beauty named Louise. They call her Ouisy. She is bright and playful and a delight, much like my 2 year old Louise back home.
I often have neck pain in clinic because I am hunched over and intently focused on my patient without regard for my posture. The beauty of a radiant child straightens me up and renews my strength as I raise my eyes to see the glory of the Lord displayed before me.
There are stories galore among the team. Tales of bamboo houses on stilts with the rapidly rising disease carrying waters of the sea and rain. There are children reveling in the unleashed thunder and rain splashing joyfully in the deluge of muddy puddles. Other children gather at the clinic barrier fence to hear about Jesus and receive a Gospel color bracelet. It is clinic at its best.
Each morning my roommate puts on a lovely devotional that pairs Scripture with prayer and music. This morning it has elements of lament in it. This, of course, cuts through all my defenses. “I can’t start my day with lament.” I tell myself as I pick up a water bottle and walk out of the room to refill it.
As I’m walking away I think about our dinner the other night. We were invited to the summer home of one of our organizers. It was a lush tropical paradise with fruit trees and museumesque antiques. There were charming places to gather and of course a karaoke machine. The dancing that went on that night was nothing short of wild and fun. It was also bittersweet as I imagined that Philip and I would have been twirling on that dance floor and he probably would have even twirled me into the pool. Grief is a strange thing and can pull the rug right out under you even if you are dancing on it.
It seems listening for the prompting of the Holy Spirit is not just for clinic.
My tendency is to keep lament in a compartment and bring it out when I am alone with God. “There is no urgency in lamenting” I tell myself, because it follows me wherever I go. This morning, however, I feel God prompting me to lament. His message seems to be: don’t run away and cover yourself in your positivity but instead Be still and know that I am is God…
Clinic Day Three: Barangay Dos Hermanas
Clinic today is in the center of a bustling neighborhood. It seems to be a hub for Filipino tricycles, a motorcycle with a sidecar. They line the narrow concrete street awaiting deployment. There is a grand Catholic Church nearby and a large gathering place/basketball court where we set up clinic. Unlike our first days, the walls are high and little natural airflow is available but our hosts have provided powerful fans again so we swelter but are not undone.
A long queue of waiting patients has already formed when the team arrives. I stand on the stage to pray for the day while clinic is being arranged. I follow the path of clinic with my prayers asking God to strengthen each participant in our inner beings through the power of His Holy Spirit.
I watch a tiny trio of darlings run and play across the pavilion floor. Their giggling joy at being alive and moving captivates me and I find it strengthening my inner being already. The simplest blessings are often the best of all.
Hypertension, Diabetes and TB take prominence today. So many come to me with treatment already established but somehow simply want my opinion. My day is full of teaching and encouraging and referring to Dr. K when follow up is needed. Dr. K listens with patience and a smile always welcoming whomever I bring her. I am tempted to feel like I am burdening her yet she never receives me with any indication that I am. She is a wonder of fortitude, dedication and compassionate care.
I have a young Mama come with complaints of frequent nighttime trips to the bathroom. She has no other concerns and her exam finds her healthy. I am about to wrap up our time with teaching and send her off to vitamins when my darling Everly offhandedly mentions that our patient’s dad died last month. God immediately pokes me and I sit her back down and hug her.
With tears in both our eyes, I take her hands in mine and share my story. I share how God welcomes us in our lament. How He promises to comfort those who mourn and to bless them. It is not an easy road but He promises to walk alongside us all the way to the end. As Everly assures me that she will need no translation, we pray together. Somewhere down these broken roads we will share again, only then, it will be all about the faithfulness of our God Who walks beside us.
We end the day seeing over 300 patients. It is a new daily record. I am reminded again of something my Pastor says: Every number has a name, Every name has a story, And every story matters to God.
Thank you, Lord, for bringing our stories together so we can be reminders to each other that we matter to You.
The singing continues. I awake to an unformed song on my tongue which makes me smile when I work it out: As You Open the eyes of my head…Open the eyes of my heart, Lord. I want to see You.
Clinic Day Two Barangay Matan-ang
Our clinic today is in another high ceiling pavilion with ample room. The signature blue and yellow surround us. It is market day over one wall. A small market of vendors share their space with our spiritual counseling. There are fruits and vegetables and belts that I can see from my station. I am told there are also a variety of dried fish and whole body lizards.
Dear Wilma is one of my first darlings. She comes with sky high blood sugar and pressure and dons an animated, infectious smile. These things do not appear to be slowing her down. I assume she comes for treatment of these glaring needs but the longer I assess and investigate, her story slowly emerges. She adds vital details that I thought I had already asked about. Nonetheless, I find myself smiling and captivated by her zeal despite my struggle to understand. At last, she pulls out a bag full of health records and scatters them on the table. In these are the answers to my questions as well as solid proof that she is being well cared for despite her numbers. I consult Dr. K who then takes over care.
Alea, another darling, comes to me telling me she has some DOB and thinks she has asthma. I ask why she thinks that and she tells me she hears extra sounds when she breathes. I ask her if she has ever been told that she has asthma and she tells me no. I ask her if she has any squeaking sounds when she breathes and she says yes. I confirm this when I hear wheezing. This leads me to teach her about the disease process. When I launch into treatment options, I eventually find out that she uses an inhaler and is on two different asthma meds that help! Off to Dr. K we go, again. Dr. K has some contacts that can provide special services for her.
As my time here progresses, I begin to understand that the communication style of my patients appears to be akin to storytelling. There are few short answers and much revisiting and restating until a kernel of truth emerges, if ever… I am grateful for Dr. K. She will get to the bottom that I cannot find of all Wilma’s and Alea’s needs.
The day is full of joyful sick people. I care for several families with kind, attentive mamas; sweet elderly lovelies escorted by younger family members; animated spitfires who want only to use their energy for good, it seems. Their enthusiasm inspires my own and I join their uplifting-despite-hardship chorus of praise even through the convoluted conversations it takes to get there.
