The Journey (Part IV)

From the moment I stepped off of African soil and onto the plane that would fly me across the ocean and back to my homeland, my heart beckoned me to come back.  I knew that I had to or else my heart might explode.  I had never loved or felt loved as fully as I did in Mozambique, and I didn’t want to live another day of my life without that kind of love.   I took a sleeping pill as I settled into my seat and hoped that it would knock me out so that I wouldn’t feel the aching and longing in my heart.  However, as I look back, I see that it was the heartbreak and longing to do something about it that got me through some very rough times and kept me focused on finding hope.

I returned to the United States to face my senior year of high school, and the prospects of returning to Mozambique seemed quite bleak.  Yet, I buckled down and focused on the task before me.  For the first time, I poured myself into schoolwork and particularly my Allied Health class.  I was so excited to do hospital work experience rotations every week.  While I got to see and learn many things, I was especially drawn to the oncology floor.  I sensed desperation in the eyes of these cancer patients that I did not find in many of the hospital’s other patients.  I was determined to bring them hope.  Being with these cancer patients also reminded me of the many cancer patients that I fell in love with while in Mozambique.  These are the people that many medical professionals have given up on.  Often their families have given up on them, and sadly, many of these people have given up on themselves.  But, I cannot look into their beautiful faces and believe that God has given up on them; I know that God has hope for all of them.  As a vessel of God’s love, by faith, I desire to bring them hope.  I cannot give up on them. 

Senior year flew by, and I was faced with a new lesson.  I learned that in order to not give up on others, I had to not give up on myself.  It was springtime, I was graduating, and I had no idea what my next steps in life should be.  My memories of Africa were still tugging on my heart, but they seemed just out of reach.  I was lost and confused.  I wanted answers, and more than anything I wanted to escape the pressures of life.  My friends from school invited me to their graduation parties, and I began to taste what the world had to offer.  In the moment, I enjoyed the thrills and dangers of the reckless lifestyles many of my friends were living.  I wanted a taste of their world and before I knew it, they were welcoming me to join them.  My life seemed exciting for once with the prospect of boys, booze, parties, adrenaline, drugs, and temporary pleasures.  Flaws in my own heart, my church, and my friends left me questioning my faith.  I felt alone, and I was eager for the opportunity to belong. 

In attempts to find my place in life, I searched desperately for a job as I felt that was the next step for a high school graduate to take.  However, all of my job-hunting seemed to be futile.  By July of 2012, I still did not have a job, so when my mom asked me to volunteer at a Joni and Friends Family Retreat, I decided to do it.  Even though it had not originally been my plan, by the time I arrived at the camp, I knew that God wanted me to be there.  It was one of the best weeks of my entire life.  As I served individuals with special needs and their families, I was reminded of the life-changing difference found in living for love rather than temporary pleasures.  I smiled.  I laughed. I cried.  I prayed.  I loved.  In just one week, I saw how love began to transform lives.  I was paired with a six-year-old little girl that much of the world would have given up on, but together we helped change each other’s lives.  We saw each other’s beauty and gifts and sought to affirm them.  I left Joni and Friends Camp, feeling God’s extraordinary love for me just as I was and seeing that people are vessels of God’s love.  While God can pour out His love in many ways, often it can be found in communion with those filled with His love.  I realized the opportunity that I have to carry God’s love to those I come into contact with, and I realized my need to accept His love from others.  As I left camp, I offered my life completely to God. I trusted Him to lead me and love me no matter what.  I knew that without Him, I had no hope.   

 

The day after I returned home from camp, I got a call offering me a job at a senior home.  I celebrated my eighteenth birthday and began work the day after.  Immediately I fell in love with my residents, and in loving them, I fell even more in love with my Jesus.  Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, anything you did for even the least of my people here, you also did for me.”  To touch Jesus when I clipped toenails, changed smelly briefs, and bathed filthy individuals made it all worth it.  Furthermore, I became a much stronger person physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.  I learned so many new practical skills that allowed me to better care for the sick.  I became gentler and bolder.  And most importantly, I learned that I can only give what God has given me.  When I was burnout from caring for others and desperately wanted someone to hold me, I found Jesus’s arms, and they were constantly there to hold me. 

 

“It’s the song of the redeemed rising from the African plain.  It’s the song of the forgiven drowning out the Amazon rain.  The song of Asian believers filled with God’s holy fire.  It’s every tribe, every tongue, every nation—a love song born of a grateful fire.  It’s all God’s children singing ‘Glory, glory, hallelujah; He reigns…’”  A spur of the moment trip in the end of August 2012 found me singing these lyrics at my brother’s church in Laramie, WY.  Suddenly and out of nowhere, I heard God’s overwhelming voice beckoning me back to Africa.  While the prospect excited me as it was the deepest desire of my heart, the idea seemed preposterous.  I was scheduled to start my freshman year at college the following week, and I was torn between pursuing a degree in nursing which everyone was urging me to do or leaving everything and following God out on a limb.  Since I did not sense God’s peace in giving up college at that time, I dove into my studies.  I took two semesters of pre-nursing classes and while some of the subject matter was interesting, I absolutely hated school.  Between being a fulltime college student and working two jobs, some days I didn’t want to be living my life.  I was exhausted and lonely, but then I remembered God’s calling for me, and I didn’t give up.  I pressed on knowing that God had a plan for me and believing that He would bring me back to Africa one day. 

Hands

7/16/13

On my 9th birthday, I received my first bottle of nail polish.  From that time on, I was an addict.  I collected nail polish and constantly had a fresh coat of polish on my nails.  I loved having pampered hands, and I enjoyed giving manicures and pedicures to family and friends.

When I began taking Allied Health classes in Junior year, my teachers were very picky about the lengths of their students' nails.  We began work experience at the hospital, and I began chopping my nails.  I felt proud of my nails.  To me, they became a symbol of my hard work and reminded me of Father March's words to Meg in Little Women.

Within the past year, I received a calling from God to use my hands to serve Him.  While the Lord has equipped me with many talents and gifts to share His love to the world, I believe that He has a special plan for my hands.  Stories of Jesus touching lepers and the sickest of the sick inspire and thrill me.  I love the healing power of God, and I am excited to be a vessel of this power.

For the last year, I have worked at a senior home and have had countless opportunities to use my hands to do the work God has called me to.  From cleaning up feces, urine, and emesis, to lifting, dressing, undressing, showering, massaging, and caring for my elderly residents, I have seen my God-given calling come to life.  Yet, along the way, I also developed the notion that the more abused my hands and self were, the better.

Today, I received my very first shellac manicure in anticipation for being a bridesmaid in my brother's wedding.  Watching my neglected nails and rough hands being transformed into something so beautiful was almost miraculous.  As I went on with my day, I found myself touching everything in a different way.  I felt like a baby discovering the world for the first time.  There was a gentleness in my touch.  Beyond feeling the need to simply get a job done, I feel the need to seek beauty and leave a wake of beauty, grace, and love upon those I touch. 

Whether my hands are calloused, dirty, and bloody or freshly manicured and smooth, God has called me to use them to spread love and point the focus back on Him.  It is not about me achieving a statues of either abused or pampered, it is about me showing the love that has been so richly lavished upon me through my hands. 

The Journey (Part III)

As I began to give pieces of my heart away, there was still a large part of my heart that I was keeping to myself.  In doing so, I only felt my own pain.  However, from the minute that I entered Hospital Central de Maputo, my life was forever changed as I gave away the remaining portion of my heart.  In return, I was filled with passion, love, hope, and joy. 

6/21/2011

Some of us left for Maputo's hospital.  It was so sad, but my heart is totally there.  I got to go inside the oncology building with Alice, Mrs. Mortensen, and Sue.  First, we saw a room of out patients receiving treatment.  Then there was a room of women who were very ill and literally dying before my eyes.  We didn't spend too much time there because they were very unwell and couldn't really handle visitors.  In the next room were three women.  Two of them were younger women probably in their twenties.  I will never ever forget their hungry, hurting eyes.  I took one of the women's hands.  Here name was Nelly.  I could tell that she was in pain, but, oh, how she loved having someone there for her.  I held onto her hand tightly, and she did not let got.  We prayed for the women in the room, and it was truly amazing..  Never in all of my life have I seen people love prayer so much!  It was heartbreaking thought because the one woman actually had to ask Alice to bathe her.  Nobody takes the time to care for her.  Oh, how I would LOVE to take care of these pained people!  It hurts my heart to see, but it also calls my heart to help them. 

In the next room there were some young mothers with their babies who were sick with cancer.  On top of that, one baby contracted malaria in the hospital.  One woman brought her little girl to the hospital because her daughter, Joanna, had a tumor that was closing her mouth almost entirely resulting in Joanna not being able to breathe.  They have been at the hospital for over a month.  The mom is about to have a baby, and they have had no contact with their family at home.  To their family, they could very well be considered dead.  They must be feeling so alone!  This is only one family's troubles too!  

At the hospital:

• Bugs are horrible
• Rats run around
• The babies don't have diapers
• The patients don't have warm clothes for the cold nights
• The medications administered are the leftover treatments from the U.S. and other countries
• The rooms are filthy
• The women have to share the beds with their children

The conditions that these beautiful people live in and are treated in are horrible!  Many of them will die, yet this is the best they have in the entire country...

We went on to another room of women.  They were delighted to receive bracelets and prayer.  Such a meager yet powerful gift.  It was very humbling.  I gently massaged a young woman's back, and she seemed to become so peaceful.  The physical touch that I could offer was enough to light up her eyes and make her feel loved.  Yes, that is what I can do!  Why do I feel like I can do nothing?  Truly there is a mission in this world for me.  I believe it is to tend to the sick and hurting.  Lord, lead me to the place where I can do that best!  Being at the hospital really gave me a feeling of purpose and hope for my life.  I am really interested in going into the medical field.  However, there is something even greater than tending to a person's physical needs.  I loved that at the hospital, I could hug, kiss, and pray for the people.  I desire to tend to people's physical needs, but mostly I want to tend to their heart needs. 

There were men in the next room whom we were able to pray with.  Lastly, we went into a room where there were five very sick men.  There was an albino man who had a very bad infection/tumor.  His whole lip and jaw was open and exposed.  It smelled horrible and it really was as if he was just rotting away.  Another man was emaciated and had fluid flowing from basically every opening in his body.  There was a young guy about my age named Fernando who had to have one leg amputated due to the cancer that was ravaging in his body.  He was so sick, thin, and weak.  In fact, he hadn't been able to move his bowels in three weeks.  He was very uncomfortable!  Alice asked me to pray for these men, especially Fernando.  She cares so deeply for these hurting people, and she truly is an inspiration.  I felt so honored to people to lift these men and women up to God in prayer. 


We went outside where some of the team was playing with the sick children.  I sat with them as they got a snack, and little Joanna sat in my lap.  She had a little port in her hand for receiving treatment, and she held her hand up the whole time because she was in such pain.  With her other hand she grasped mine.  Then she wanted to go back to her mother, so I carried her inside.  When I was exiting the hospital, there was a woman leaving who had just received treatment.  I will never forget her words.  She looked at me with pleading eyes and said, "Pray for us!"  I never ever want to forget these people.  Until the day I die, I want these people to be in my heart.  Forever and ever!
 

 

The best thing happened at the very end of the hospital visit.  There was a young woman standing at the bottom of the stairs to the hospital.  Alice was talking to her, and the rest of us were hanging out in the surrounding courtyard.  Alice left her to go do something else, so I decided to give her a hug.  She was delighted!  I came to find out that her name is Maninha.  She has lymphatic cancer and HIV.  The medicines that she has to take are not mixing well and, as a result, her brain is affected.  Also, her cancer treatment caused a problem with the veins in her wrist, and she had to have a surgery on her wrist.  She is only twenty years old. , and she has a four year old daughter.  As I stood there embracing her, she asked me in Portuguese to pray for her wrist.  I took her in my arms and prayed for her.  Instantly, I had a friend.  I only knew her for a very short time, but I felt like we were best friends.  We did not separate until I left.  We linked arms and our fingers intertwined.  I love Maninha.  Leaving her was so hard!  I started tearing up.  I wanted to take her home with me, love her, and take care of her.  She instilled so many emotions in my heart--emotions I hadn't experienced in a very long time!  That night as I lay in bed, I cried.  I cried for Maninha.  I prayed and cried for the suffering to be taken away.  I cried because I loved. 

 
Why do I feel called to sacrifice myself and live in the dirt with people that break my heart? 

If physical riches and comfort were what make life living, then all of the lives of these beautiful and amazing people would be considered worthless.  In fact, my own life which is filled abundantly with earthly riches would be considered worthless because they never satisfy.  My eyes have been opened--human beings are inexplicably valuable.  I want to devote my life to valuing life.  I will do this through love.  Without fear, I will reach loving hands into the dirt, through the pain, and at the risk of infectious diseases to meet the valuable human being on the other end with love.  It really isn't a sacrifice because so often in lending a hand--a hand reaches back.  Even if I am left standing empty-handed in the dirt and pain, I know that my God (Love)'s hand is constantly extended to me.  Through and because of His love, I will love.  I refuse to leave the hopeless without hope.