We Treat, God Heals

One of the things that caught my eye while at the clinic in Kenya was this sign. We treat & God heals. I had to stop and think about this for a moment. Sometimes I think in America we simply declare "We treat" and see no need or place for God. Well when you rooms filled with medications, fancy machinery, and adequate staffing with years of education backing the "we," it would be easy to place the credit on humanity. However, the world I witnessed was a lot different. There were moments when I looked at the situation in front of me and thought to myself, "we" can do absolutely nothing. Sometimes this was due to a lack of something or perhaps the failure to intervene at the opportune time. Other times the situation simply was beyond man's scope of practice. Kenyans are eager to make the God claim. In fact, sometimes that is simply all there is. God's mercy.

I found myself having to truly wrestle with the question, Do I believe God heals? Do I believe He heals the same way that he did in the gospel accounts? Do I believe He heals even without modern medicine? It still tests my faith to this day. I can tell you I saw miracles. I saw a woman bleeding enormous amounts, losing consciousness...and God saved her life. I saw a young boy with a horrific burn injury happily sitting on his bed rocking out to some music. I saw mothers fighting against all odds to preserve the health of their children, born and unborn. What a privilege it is to see the hand of God at work. What an honor to surrender my hands to allow him to touch others through me.

My heart still yearns to go back. I wonder if that's what the Israelites felt like. Knowing the Promised Land awaited them, but not knowing when they were going to get there, and facing many setbacks along the way. All I know is God did not plant this desire, this calling, this insanity in me for nothing. And I must place my hope, my trust not in Kenya but in the Lord. Psalm 37:4 says "Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart."

As Christmas approaches, my thoughts and prayers are with the slum children. My heart breaks to think that for them, Christmas is just another day of the year- the anticipated American Christmas just a distant fantasy, part of me hopes they just do not know.... One day I will be with you again...I will teach you Christmas songs and show you pictures of snow....We will cut out paper chains and I will give you my heart....

Lean Not

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Proverbs 3:5-6

God speaks. A lot of times I am not a very good listener, but He speaks and He shows up. This has been a very challenging couple of months for me. Coming back from Kenya is one of the hardest things I have had to face. The "why" questions have plagued me for a long time. Why couldn't I just have stayed there? Why am I in school? Why do I stress over such small things? Why did I feel so at peace there, but cannot seem to find it here? I do not have a straightforward answer to any of those questions, but I know the Lord is preparing me for something big. Something where I will have to trust Him with my entire being and will not be able to lean on any of my own knowledge, ideas, control.

I was thinking yesterday about all the minor setbacks that seem to keep popping up. A few weeks ago, our electricity was out. A week ago my laptop essentially died and is not usable. Yesterday and throughout this quarter, I have run into some financial hardships. And although in each of these situations, MY reaction was to worry, to panic, to freak out. Yet now I can see the Lord's hand in it all. I can live without electricity. I can live without a constant connection to the internet and technology. God will provide when I know longer have adequate funds. Hmm...I wonder why I might need to begin to let all these things go...:) God has a good sense of humor.

Cards for Kenya

Quality of Life

Albert Einsten once said, "Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted."

Although it is the 6th week of school, I feel like yesterday was one of the only days I could find true meaning in what I was doing. For my community health experience, I have had the opportunity to be involved in home hospice care. It is very humbling and somewhat upsetting to go into a person's home who you know has approximately 6 months or left to live. For me, I very much enjoy the opportunity to get to talk to someone and physically be present during a very hard time for the patient and the family- the thing that upsets me more is knowing that I won't get to go back. That I cannot continue to get to know them, to learn about their life, to pray for them...all the things that I feel that God has given me a gift for. But I still really cherished the time I spent with the patients yesterday.

One lady was a former ballet dancer and writer. She had a beautiful home, full of items collected from a lifetime of adventure. I just could imagine that every figurine, every black and white photograph, every book has a story...and I just wanted to know it all....to hear it all. I just felt my heart connect with this beautiful women...she really was stunning, even though she is getting close to the end. Another woman living in an adult family home told me all about her love of shopping at consignment stores and just the thrill of getting to go out and do that. She expressed her sadness over having to move out of and sell her home....and I really could see her pain and how badly she wanted to live independently again. I could have sat there and talked with her all day....

I am not sure what to make of all this. I really felt sad and emotional on my drive home...but really because I just wished I could play a more significant role in their end of life care. I think I really would enjoy hospice...but I don't know if I emotionally would be able to do it...a lot of people seem like they have just come to accept that death is a frequent part of their job. And it's not even a cold-hearted emotion, just more matter of fact...everyone dies and as a hospice worker, you get to make sure it is the best it possibly can be. But I feel like every life is so precious and I don't know if I would be able to let people go so easily without taking on all of the emotions... Plus everyone keeps saying you have to work in med-surg before you can do home care and honestly I would rather not be a nurse than have to work ing med-surg....

So I just need to cherish the precious moments I had yesterday and try to continue to find meaning. I know working in Kenya is going to involve end of life care and I think in a lot of ways, Kenyans are more at peace with death than most of us are. Partially because it is so much more frequent...but also because I really think they have faith that a life with our Heavenly Father really is going to be so much better than anything we experience here on this Earth.

Life is so precious...

Beautiful Faces

Whether I like it or not, life continues on. My senior year of school has begun. My days are a juggling act, an attempted balance between the many commitments I have. My to-do list continues to grow, with no end in sight. I still cry for Kenya. I'm still searching for my place, my purpose here. I still contemplate dropping out of school- although I fully realize that decision would not be very rational or helpful in the long-term. Yet there are a few things keeping me going...

1) Faces. The beautiful faces like this one on the left. I had 3 of my favorite pictures (this one included) enlarged and printed on canvas. My wonderful housemates allowed me to hang them in our living room so I get to see them all the time.

2) Cards. I have embarked on a journey in card-making. I am using pictures I took in Kenya and some of my favorite quotes, and making cards. All proceeds will go to Imara Health Clinic. This new little project has allowed me to feel connected and I am excited to share the cards with people throughout this year.

3) Friends. I am convinced that I have the best friends in the world. Friends that will sit down and watch a 14 minute slideshow of Kenya pictures. Friends that don't think it's weird that I tend to cry every time I get an email from someone in Kenya. Friends who continue to stand by me day by day (despite how many times I have already threatened to drop out of school).

Peter, the director of the clinic, emailed me today. It was very touching and emotional for me. One of the things he wrote was:

What is even more heart touching was your very generous donation towards the clinic work,You demonstrated your faith with works just as the Bible teaches.You kept the funds with you for almost three weeks and eventually you were touched and chose to give to Imara .We believe this is divine connection which we have always desired and prayed about since 2002. Myself and our entire team believe that the profession you are pursuing is a calling to you and no doubt you will be a great Nurse touching peoples lives.

I can take no credit for either the donations nor the calling that has been placed on my life. I don't understand why I have to spend another year here, when my heart exists somewhere else entirely. Yet I have to trust that in the same way God answered their prayers from 9 years ago, that God will be faithful in answering mine too. Peter also mentioned that they successfully delivered twin boys that were breech! I will leave you with that picture.

Body & Soul

I have avoided blogging up until this point because I was afraid the things I had to say would be too sad. However, I now realize if I wait until I am not heart-broken any longer, I may never write again.

After 10 days back in the States, in some ways life has completely gone "back to normal." I drive my car to get places. I have dozens of clothing choices, in fact I have so many clothes that they barely fit in my closet. I have moved into my Seattle apartment, and spent the past several days cleaning, cooking, and running errands. School resumes on Monday, so my relaxed days of my own agenda are quickly coming to an end. Soon my schedule will be dictated by my class syllabus; my nights filled with textbooks, notecards, and coffee.

In other ways, my physical body is here, but my soul is in Kenya. I made a slideshow of my favorite Kenya pictures, and I watch it every chance I get. I have been making greeting cards, as it is my new effort to raise funds for the slum clinic. I wonder how the people I met are doing. I think about the kids, the moms, the nurses, the doctors, the teachers, the drivers, and my fellow volunteers. I wonder how life can so quickly move on and I desperately cling to the hope that I won't lose the ability to feel connected to Kenya, even if it is painful. I guess I don't know why I am here. I mean, logically and rationally, yes I know. I have to finish school. I need to get a real job. My "life" is here. I guess I am just supposed to accept that and be okay with it.

I feel like I am mourning the loss of a part of me...a part of me that I cannot seem to fully find and embrace here. Maybe it will come...maybe it just got a bit delayed and has to catch a later flight. But what is that part of me decides to reside in Kenya just waiting for me to come back. And I don't know when I can go back. I just have to tell myself it is going to be soon, because that is the only answer I can live with right now.

In the meantime, I just beg God to give me peace and the strength to get up in the morning. I pray for even a small glimpse as to why I am suppose to be here right now.

Stolen Heart

I don't think you can ever really prepare yourself for a goodbye. I haven't let myself cry since I have been here but the tears are currently welling up in my eyes as the end of my time in Kenya is here. The only thing that makes it okay is that Lord willing I will be back. Hopefully soon. Kenya stole my heart.

I am happy to report that all donations were hand delivered to the slum clinic on Saturday. They were so gracious and grateful, and it was a joy and privilege to get to be the messenger. One day I will go back there, but in the meantime, I will keep in touch with all the wonderful people who work there.

I will come home the same physical body, but my soul, my mind, my heart have all been changed. I fear it will be all too easy to transition back into my comfortable life in the US, where the biggest stress of the day is studying for a nursing test or getting stuck in traffic. I can only hope that I can find meaning in both worlds. In a lot of ways, life seems more real here in Kenya. You cannot shy away from suffering, from sickness, from death. Based on circumstances, new life, a plentiful harvest, another day to live are all things to be celebrated.

Kenya...thank you. From the bottom of my heart. To all the wonderful, gracious people I have met over the past month, it has been a pleasure. I wish I could stay longer. I wish I had the ability and the resources to ease your burdens. Thank you for taking me in like a member of your family. Thank you for your willingness to teach and to share part of your lives. I'll be back. It's not goodbye. I'll see you soon.