Breathe

I will admit that sitting down to update anyone who reads this is often difficult.  My mind races through all the events over the past month and the days often slip through my memories like sifted sand. The only thoughts left are the rocks that were too big to make it through the tiny holes.  Unfortunately those rocks are often heavy losses and weighty decisions with poor outcomes—

The dad of the triplets arriving early in the morning to tell us that Baby B had a sudden seizure at home and died.

            A seemingly normal delivery that ended with parents going home childless.

            A toddler arriving urgently, still warm, but with no heart beat.

Life here takes an emotional toll and it often requires a conscious effort to push off the bottom of the pool and come up for air.

A few days ago I took a long, deep breath when I left the hospital work behind me to join three of our chaplains on a short trek to a rural village.  For the first time in the history of our ministry, we were getting the chance to show the Jesus film in the village of a particular tribe I hold close to my heart.  It seemed very surreal as our Land Rover bumped awkwardly over last years planting fields. The sunset view was speckled with lonely huts that seemed to only keep company for scattered cows and goats longing to find their shepherds.  After arriving, I couldn’t imagine that we would get a crowd for the showing of the movie since, besides the 3 adults and 4 children already present, there wasn’t another soul in sight and no hope as to where they might come from.

But after sundown, little by little more men, women and children arrived.  I started praying early that the generator would last long enough to finish the movie and not just leave Jesus dead on the cross! We prayed for calm winds (as our movie screen was not so sturdy and had to be tied to a tree with rope!), no rain, and open hearts.  For some of the people there, it wasn’t the first time to see the story. We had arrived at this moment because a man in the village had watched the film while being treated at our hospital and wanted us to show it to the rest of his village.  I couldn’t imagine what it was like to watch the book of Luke being played out for the first time ever; not knowing what was going to come next. How long I have taken the knowledge of the Bible for granted.

This people group is not one to react quickly.  They are deep thinkers, internal processors, and slow to show emotion. It may be months to years before we know if there was an impact to our evening in the village, but that is not for us to decide.

We drove away in the dark in awe of the sovereignty of God.  We did not go looking for this village.  (Even if we had tried, we could not have succeeded). Six months ago we didn’t even know this family existed. But the Lord orchestrated a man to be sick, seek care at our hospital, and so the story unfolds……

I return to the hospital but go to hide for a few moments. Time to sit alone and rest. Cry. Reflect. Breathe.

A recurring theme and reminder for me this month is that God sees us. He knows each and every village, every person, every language. God is not aloof or far from us. There is no game of hide and seek—he is always able to be found and we can never hide from Him or His love.  He hears us when we praise Him, and He bears our burdens when we don’t see His plan. I believe, help my unbelief.   

A sudden wave of relief and peace.  A faint smile and a weight lifted.

I am not here to save the world, Jesus already did.

Through the Cultural Looking Glass

It is often strange living far away from American culture and life because you soon realize that your daily interests soon become that of the country you are currently living in, not the country you came from.  But since I grew up with the ideal that you could never go to bed without having watched the news (certainly ingrained in me since my grandfather was the editor of NBC news Chicago), I still struggle through the slow internet connection and impatiently wait as the headlines and photos download on my computer each evening.

What has become more and more evident is how each culture defines freedom, rights, hatred, laws, social norms, and sin.  During the many weeks that racial motivated tensions were (and still are) mounting across the US, two tribes here in Mango began fighting, which resulted in many displaced families and destroyed property and livelihoods.  While all is calm at present, it seems that these two tribes have a long-standing mistrust of one-another and the embers are always ready to burn for anyone stoking the fire. 

When the Togolese hear about the fighting going on in the US centered around racial tension, they are often confused and find it ridiculous that black and whites would be fighting for no other base reason than color.  But when I compared our countries difficulties with the tribal warfare taking place, they would just smile half-way and say, “oh, that’s just the way it’s always been.”

Meanwhile, we’ve recently been having very difficult discussions about what to do when married girls between the ages of 12-16 come into the hospital for pre-natal care and obstetric care. They are often brought in by an uncle or a female relative. More often than not, they are the 2^nd, 3^rd, or 4^th wife of a man that is 20-30 years her senior.  These types of marriages are technically illegal, but culturally they happen every day and it’s the norm to complain, yet turn a blind eye as the “transaction” has already been completed and there’s nothing to be done.  Polygamy and child brides are the norm here, and regardless of approval, it is accepted by all.  Our American minds are immediate to call this rape, molestation, slavery, or just illegal at best.  But the husband did not steal the girl from a playground—her parents consented, a ceremony took place and they are living out in the open for all to see.  These aren’t dark alleys or private internet chat rooms.  While we, of course, do not agree with the practice, our first concern is figuring out how to make sure a 12 year old can deliver safely.

When the Togolese heard about the ruling of the Supreme Court yesterday, they were outraged. I didn’t make a comment either way, I just confirmed that it was, in fact, true. They were shocked and sad for us as Americans and for the world in general. We all just went about our day after the short blurb on American news realizing that our focus needed to be on the sick in front of us—a boy of 13 who came in as a near drowning after trying to save his brother (age 11) who had slipped while crossing the river. They were returning from a day of working in the fields.  I was secretly hoping that his comatose state could last as long as possible since the nightmare of finding out his brother was already dead and buried had not yet been realized.  When I later saw an American colleague we chatting briefly how cultural viewpoint changes everything. Togolese outrage on same-sex marriage while 12-year brides as 3^rd wives having babies, although is looked down upon, is accepted as a cultural norm.  We are thankful for the Word of God that speaks to all cultures at all points in time.

I rarely, if ever, discuss political agendas and Supreme Court decisions because I’m not in that culture currently, and I don’t find that it’s fruitful conversation.  The Roman Empire was steeped in deep sin and idolatry.  All of Jesus disciples were waiting for him to make a political stance and bring in a moral-political reign over the nation.  His lack of doing this did not mean that he agreed with what was going on, but instead, that he knew that men’s hearts cannot be changed by laws or by force.  The larger issue isn’t lawful rights or an outdated flag—although the issues themselves are valid discussions.

My job here in Togo is to help show that true happiness is found when we completely find our joy in the Glory of God. Issues of tribalism, child labor, and child brides are all worthy, and necessary, causes to fight against in the political arena, but no law can change men’s hearts.  John Piper said, “sin is the suicidal exchange of the glory of God for the broken cisterns of created things.” Even the 10 commandments were not made because the Lord expected us to be able to keep them all. They were given to us as a mirror, that we might see how far we had fallen from the holiness of God, and repent; That we may all continue to turn to God to find our completeness; that we may all seek God’s glory and not cisterns of broken creation.

I have very dear friends I love here in Togo that were child brides, that participate in child labor practices, that have multiple wives, that have undergone female circumcision and would do the same to their daughters, and the list goes on. We openly talk about these issues and how, I believe, God speaks to those issues. They know what I believe in and love me as well. There is no hate crime going on here. We talk about our ways of life, in love, and hide nothing in regards to who or how we worship. It’s not my job to even change someone’s heart—only the Holy Spirit of God will choose to do that. 

Please pray for Togo as we here pray for the United States.  Pray that both nations could be known as Nations that seek the Glory of the Lord.

From Death to Life

Ephesians 2:4-5

But God, being rich in mercy,

because of the great love with which he loved us,

even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive

together with Christ—by grace you have been saved

Practicing pediatrics in the US one can feel like we win all the time. Relatively few children die in the US and it’s a rarity and tragedy to find a mother who’s had to bury a child.  In Togo, it’s hard to find a mother who hasn’t buried a child, at least one.  In fact, many groups don’t give a name to their infants until the 8^th day, or sometimes until the first month, to avoid giving a name to a child that won’t survive.

I’m not sure how many of you have seen a dead person in real life. Not at a funeral when the dead are made to look alive somehow, but someone in the rawness of death. When it takes place in a hospital, it is often not beautiful nor peaceful. There is an ugliness to death that makes the witnesses feel violated and stolen from.  After a short time, it is also obvious. There is no confusion whether a person is dead or not.

For there is nothing in common between the dead and living.

The Word of God often describes us as dead. I think it’s a misunderstanding of this death that leads us to believe that we are better than we are, or that Christ’s love and sacrifice for us is somehow not as awesome as it is.  We believe that this death He speaks of is actually more like a peaceful, sleeping child whose mother comes in at night to tuck her child’s swooping curls behind her ear, afraid to wake her.  This leads us to think, “of course God has great love towards us, who wouldn’t want to swoop up a sleeping child in their arms—especially God!”

But the death that God speaks of is nothing like this. The actual idea is that of being pulled up out of a grave, a grave that we’ve been in for our entire lives.  This is the comparison made when Christ looks upon us, loves us anyway, and delivers us—

a rotting, cold, lifeless corpse. And what corpse could bring itself back to life?

One of my jobs here in Togo is to fight against physical death. It’s a losing battle. Even if I win today, I will always lose in the end.  No one has ever defeated death—except one.  And Christ makes us alive.  To fight for physical life without fighting for spiritual life is like pulling a corpse out of the grave and placing him in a tomb.  That’s why we’re here—to share a love that brings people from death to life. Not to force or manipulate, but to wait for God to move, for the Lord to pull people out of the grave and praise Him for it.

Isaiah 25:8

He will swallow up death forever;

 and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces

-K

PS: I appreciate everyone’s prayers for string of unfortunate events (broken computer, then phone, then computer, then internet, then a bout of malaria). If the Lord is trying to teach me something, I’m trying to listen. And if Satan is trying to discourage me, I’m not, which I’m sure is thanks to all of your prayers. This ministry could not continue without the sustaining prayers of all of you. I’m deeply grateful for all of you.

Rejoice with those who Rejoice

I saw this sweet little boy 4 weeks ago when our surgeon, Todd Dekryger, called me in to his clinic room. As soon as we looked at him we new that he most likely had Burkitt Lymphoma--a type of cancer that is endemic to Africa for reasons that aren't fully understood. The cancer is named after Dr. Denis Parsons Burkitt who was a medical missionary in Kampala, Uganda and first described the tumors extensively as a problem throughout the country.
He had been brought it by his older brother who explained that this mass had appeared over the course of a month, but they had visited fettish healers prior to coming to the Hospital of Hope.

He was admitted to the hospital the next day for a biopsy and some blood work. Thanks to the wonderful Pathology Department at St. Joseph's Hospital in Ann Arbor, MI we were able to send off the biopsy to be diagnosed at no charge.  But since the biopsy has to be hand-carried back to the states by a visitor leaving HOH, chemotherapy treatment is started despite not being 100% sure of the diagnosis. At the beginning of treatment we have a very serious discussion with the family. The child must stay for about a week the first time, then return once a week for four weeks to continue treatment. After one month, treatments are spread out to every 3 weeks, including a 2 day hospital stay each time. The course of treatment can be exhausting and is very expensive. Because there is always a chance that the family won't return after a few weeks, I explain to them that if they are faithful to their appointments, the hospital will share the cost of their treatment. But if they stop coming early, the family will be responsible for the entire cost. I realize this might sound very harsh to some, but it can be very difficult to come by these medications, and if a patient stops mid-treatment, all has been wasted and can't be used for a future patient.

Thankfully, the tumor began to respond to treatment in a matter of DAYS and the family could witness the healing of their son and brother before their eyes. He has been faithful to his last 3 visits and today when he arrived, he was completely transformed to his old self! (So much so that I had no idea who he was when a nurse notified me he was here for treatment!)

This cutie is actually only 1 of 5 children going through chemotherapy treatment here at HOH. These treatments can only be successful when we are able to support families (in-part) and when the hospital is able to purchase needed chemotherapy drugs. If you are interested in directly helping with either patient care, or the purchase of needed medications, thankfully there are two accounts set up through ABWE exactly for these reasons!

The Lord is doing mighty things here in Mango, and this is just one of many. Although each week we often experience the searing pain of loss, we are also blessed to experience the sweet joy of healing!
We could not continue this work without your faithful prayers and support, and we thank the Lord for YOU daily!

www.abwe.org/give
Pediatric Patient Care Fund: 0763833-001
Chemotherapy Fund: 0763833-002

Africa Has Candy

 

Have you ever gone on a missions trip? Have you made your packing list weeks in advance and made sure to leave room for things like candy to hand out to children you pass on the street or in villages? I would argue that almost all of us who have traveled to the developing world have done just that. I know I have.

But I'll let you in on a little secret. Africa has candy. A lot of it. In fact, if you go into a small boutique here in Mango, you can find that at least one-third of what they are selling is some type of candy. Ginger candy, chewing gum, mints, fruit-flavored hard candy, cookies....the list goes on! The funny part is that most of the children prefer this candy to the things we bring over from the US. Our American candy is often too sweet, or have flavors or textures they are familiar with at all (and don't want to be for that matter!)

Unfortunately this phenomenon has led even the smallest village children to immediately start demanding candy from any Westerner that happens to walk by.  So why do they do this if they already have access to all the candy they would ever want or need? Why are they asking us for candy, when they may not even like it as much as the candy sold for 1 cent down the street? I believe it's because when we give them something, even something they already have, they assume it's better. It must be better since it's from America, right? They start to long for something they never thought they were missing, and weren't missing in fact.

We have a very sweet American radiology tech named Michaelle here at HOH. I love her for so many reasons, but what I think is the most amazing is that she hands out candy to kids after their Xrays. And while this seems to undermine my previous 3 paragraphs, it actually doesn't, because she hands out small pieces of candy that she buys from a local store here in Mango. The candy is familiar and accessible, because of course, who doesn't want a piece of candy after they stayed real still for their X-ray?!

All this is to say that Togo, and many parts of Africa, have their own candy. Meaning, they aren't missing something just because they don't have exactly what we have. If I were to ever write a book at the end of my experiences overseas, I would title it, "Africa has candy", and write about all the incredible resources, physical and non-physical, that these countries already possess.  Kids are kids, no matter where they are in the world. They have their own ideals of what is fun, silly, and sweet! Of course, this idea is not just about candy, but I think you get the idea. An idea that came to me while I was sitting on my porch one day and was having a wonderful time with the children that live at my house. As they were trying to take some" selfies" I just kept thinking about how children in the US would be acting the same way--making faces, laughing, comparing photos with one another. We laughed until our bellies hurt. While there are things in life they are in need of, I don't ever want them to think that they are missing out on something.

There is MUCH to say about the hospital and things going on, but I will save that for a post next week. I thought I'd give you a glimpse into my life away from the hospital and at my home where I share a living space with  6-12 Fulani adult woman and children and any given time. (99% of them are NOT French speaking, but only speak Fulfulde, which I am trying my best to learn rapidly!) They have become my Togo family. I'm very thankful that the Lord has allowed me to share life with this extended family, and that despite the peaks and valleys of emotion at the hospital, there is always joy waiting for me at home.

Wind and the Waves

I wish you could all be here with us in Mango. Not because I would put you to work (although I probably would!) but because writing about life here is sometimes just as disappointing as standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon and taking a picture with your phone. As you try and share your experience through the small photo, everyone around you nods in delight but you know they can't actually grasp what you saw in person.

That's because beauty comes from the movement of your soul, not the image before your eyes.

The Hospital of Hope is beauty--not because the tiles are shiny and the equipment is new, but because the hundreds of stories taking place inside every day stir your soul. Sometimes that stirring is joy and hope, and other times it's crushing.

We have had four deaths in the hospital so far, and all have come out of Pediatrics--severe malaria in a 2 and 4 year old, a newborn born several hours away who had gone too long without oxygen, and our first infant born via C-Section who was diagnosed with a irreparable congenital heart defect hours later.

It doesn't take much for discouragement to try and overtake you after spending a full 24 hours working, praying, pleading for the life of another person only to lose the battle. I've thought to myself more than once this week, "how can I welcome this woman to the Hospital of Hope when she just lost her only child on my watch?"

I've actually been through this before, after moving to Togo for the first time in 2012--Death, discouragement, doubt.

I told a family that their new baby boy, hours old, would only survive a few more hours due to a heart that wasn't formed right. I openly struggled to get through a prayer for them afterwards. Tears from fatigue and disappointment were unstoppable. Afterwards, the family told me that is was God who decided for it to be this way. I took a moment to figure out who was comforting who.

As I walked away, I approached our new, young 17 year-old mother of premature twin girls. Life was passing from one room and entering into the other. I sat and held one of the twins for a few moments in amazement of God's grace on this young mom and these tiny girls.  The juxtaposition was almost too much to take in and I walked outside to breathe in some cool night air. The 3am night sky was still as I sought peace that could only come from the Lord.

Moments later a strong wind came through for only about a minute, then calmed. The lyrics to a beautiful song immediately came to me:
So let go my soul and trust in Him. The waves and wind still know His name. 

When Jesus stilled the storm from within the boat as he traveled with the disciples, they saw Him next to them, but they couldn't fix their eyes on the power that was before them.

Death can feel like an inescapable power that is ever before me here. An enemy that always wins at some point. But there isn't one life that passes into or out of this world without the word of the Lord, and it's beautiful. It's all beautiful.

I praise the Lord for letting me be here to see it all, to be moved by it all. Pray for me as I breathe it all in. Please pray for all of us here, whose purpose and joy is to bring the message that Christ has conquered death, and he is longing for all to pass from death into life.


**Song mentioned is by Bethel- It is Well, Album: You Make me Brave**

All we can do

A photo taken during orientation for the hospital. We spent a week learning, getting to know one another, and having fun!

I'd like to meet the person who first said, "All we can do is pray" and smack him/her upside the head. I hear this phrase often and have very likely been guilty of saying it myself. It's usually said after doing through all of our human-derrived solutions for change or resolution and realizing they wouldn't work, or didn't work. As a last ditch effort we tag God on as our "P.S." at the end of the letter, just to remind people that we are Christians, and to show the Lord that we tried everything already.

Why do we do this?

The author of Hebrews said, "Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."
The Psalms remind us that "The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth."
The Lord told Jeremiah, "Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know."

The Creator of the Universe, the Creator of YOU, wants to interact with you, love on you, meet your needs, reveal things to you, encourage you, and most of all, make Himself known to you. If prayer is a time to experience these things, why is it so often our after-thought?

One thing I have noticed most of all here in Mango is to expect the unexpected. Each day I have a goal, or a list of things to accomplish during the day, but not once has my day gone as I expected.
 "Get to the hospital early today to work on organize materials".......Flat bike tire on the way
 "I can get everything done today, but I don't have a minute to spare"....as I finish this thought, my
    phone rings. It's one of our nurses who's child is ill and is coming to my house so I can see them.
 "I will reply to all my e-mails tomorrow".....Internet goes down for 4 straight days.

I've learned to laugh at plans, at my plans. What if I just started the day in prayer, asking the Lord to show me what he needed me to do today, instead of me telling him what I was going to do today?
What would that day look like for me, for you?

Would we take 5 extra minutes to help someone who needed us? Would we take 30 extra minutes to sit before God in stillness so He could fill us up for the day? Would we be willing to throw our plans out the window and surrender to whatever God's plan was?

I'm amazed that I could possibly think I have the best plans for my day, my week and my life. Especially when I cannot know what will come in the next moment. Yet the Lord who is not bound by knowledge, power, or time wants us to spend time with him so that he can reveal small parts of this plan, His plan, to us!

It's true that "All we can do"...is pray.  I wish someone would have instead said, "We can all do prayer" or "We can do all with prayer". Then maybe it wouldn't be an afterthought at the point of our weakness, but instead a recognition of how we can join the Lord in what He wants to accomplish around the world.

I'm hoping you will join our team in Mango in fervently praying each day for the next 2 weeks as we count down to the opening of the Hospital of Hope. There is much to get done,  things that can only be completed and ready with God's miraculous hands.

We are having a Grand Opening Celebration on February 26th where many government officials (possibly the president of Togo) and the entire community will be in attendance. Our doors will open to see our very first patients on March 2. There are a lot of emotions both good and bad that are affecting us all, so please pray for wisdom and peace. Pray that we will keep our focus on why we are here!

-kel

P.S. There are many things I cannot publish on a public blog about life in Mango. If you want to know more about how to be praying for us, I have set up a "secret" group on Facebook where I will be sharing more specific prayer requests. If you want to be a part of this group, please message me through Facebook or e-mail me at faber@abwe.cc