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Saturday, 22 August 2015

investing can saves lives

As you may or may not know I am currently apart of a training program in Perth, Australia which equips students how to be birth attendant in developing nations. Over this three month period we are covering normal labor and delivery, normal after birth care and how to care for the child under two. This training is geared towards being able to work in developing nations.
A highlight for me personally has been seeing these students get a glimpse of Gods heart for the poor and the needy, especially the women suffering, unnecessarily through pregnancy and childbirth. As they gain Gods heart, they also grow in their understanding of how God has equipped them to go because “He delivers the needy when they call, the poor and him who has no helper”
Annually 289,000 women die of pregnancy and childbirth complications; most of these could be prevented. 99% of these deaths happen in the developing world. Our training program is aimed to work particularly in the developing world.
We also learn how there is an attack against infants in the world, that each child bears the image of God and the enemy wants to do everything he can to keep the children from living out their destiny here on earth. As birth attendants, we act as gatekeepers for life and have the privilege to pray and welcome many newborns in Jesus name.
Up to date, the birth attendant school has delivered 4,929 babies.
In the coming weeks I will be travelling to Hyderabad, India. I will be working in a hospital that focuses on serving the poorest women in the city. Daily there are 400-800 women who come for antenatal care and 60-80 women who give birth. This is a hospital that the birth attendant school has been going to for 11 years. The ongoing relationship allows for immediate hands on training and the high density of patients means that they are happy to have us help. Being a birth attendants who fears the Lord means that I will have the chance to pray for scared, tired and “untouchable” women and show them the love of God.

In order to go, we need to raise $5,000 AUD for our expenditures.
Would you prayerfully consider giving $100 towards this need?
Thank you for your consideration! God Bless

Friday, 14 November 2014

“I always wonder why birds choose to stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth, then I ask myself the same question.”

It’s almost noon and my husband (yep-have one of those now) and I are finding it nearly impossible to peel our eyelids open long enough to officially announce we are awake for the day. We are in Cape Town settled temporarily at a sweet little B&B while we await the arrival of another outreach team. We are with incredibly kind hosts and a terribly hard bed. We have been here for two days but I must admit the majority of our precious time here as been spent sleeping. And while I have a great temptation to feel bad about it- I am mostly enjoying it. Moments like these don’t come often. No responsibility. No where to be. And no one but ourselves to explain our decision to miss yet another prime tourist activity.

As I sit here in my semi-awake, jetlagged, and somehow still-feeling-sleep-deprived state I can’t help but think about what a year it has been.

November: This time last year I was in Zambia. Single. Well, dating and dreaming of when I might say, “I do,” but definitely lacking any official sign of long-term commitment. I was working at a very busy government maternity hospital and helping to lead a team of student midwives in what it means to be a Godly healthcare worker and a missionary in the developing world. I met a dear friend in the maternity ward and was apart of her miraculous birth to a sweet baby I still think about daily. I grieved when she died and cherished mothering her little girl while I could.

Decemeber: From there I returned to India. Somehow this place I never cared to visit has become my home away from home. I spent a month in my old stomping ground, visiting the many friends I have made there over the years and continuing to serve at one of the hardest hospitals I have ever had the privilege of working in. 

Just before the New Year rang in I made my way back to Australia to celebrate with my soon to be fiancé.  But not before spending the day with some dear friends and fellow midwives in Bangkok. After having the best sleep in 3 months on a lonely, yet inviting couch in the airport, we spent the day exploring the buzzing city. Up and down the winding streets of one of the most exciting markets I have ever been in to catching the train to one of the most posh, pseudo-American malls I have ever seen outside of my homeland. Exhausted, exhilarated, and satisfied with a day well spent, it was easy to sleep my way to Perth from there.

January: After arriving back in January I took a 3-week course called the Orientation to Medical Missions. As if I hadn’t orientated myself in the last few years. Nonetheless, I enjoyed it immensely, learned a lot, and was reminded why I love what I do.  

February: Almost as soon as it finished I was jet-setting again. This time to one of my favorite places in the world: home. And I wasn’t coming home empty handed either-I had a boyfriend. We spent 3 memorable weeks spending time with family, eating delicious food, playing at Disneyland, and finally getting engaged before taking off back to Australia.

March-April: Now with wedding planning on the mind I managed to stay in Perth for two months working with the anti-Human Trafficking and Prostitution ministry, visiting brothels and praying for women enslaved in the industry. One of my most memorable times I had was sharing the Easter story and handing out lemon cookies and church invites to countless brothels across the city.

May: As if I was somehow allergic to spending too much time in the same place, it was now time to leave again. This time to celebrate my fiancés brothers wedding. I had a beautiful time on the East coast of Australia celebrating an incredible couple and getting to know my soon to be family. 

Unfortunately, our time with them was brief as we had plans to go to a large evangelical campaign in South Korea for a month.  So off we went again.  This time stopping over in Hong Kong to somehow make our way to into the city to enjoy a crème brulee latte at a café overlooking the busy streets. (Highly recommend the city by the way-and that latte, if you ever get the chance)

Korea was a different kind of outreach for me. The city and the people are absolutely stunning. The food is unique and sometimes scary but I enjoyed it immensely. We entered the country just months after a tragic event that had the nation stirred up in grief. The church was hurting yet hopeful and so grateful for the company. Chenaniah was dancing with a Polynesian performing arts group that uses cultural dance to draw large crowds and share the gospel. Useless in the dancing department, I instead, helped with schooling for one of the young dancers in between his practices and performances. It was a rich time for me, having an opportunity to be around Chenaniah’s culture and experience the type of mission’s work he’s been doing the last 5 years. During the time I lived with a group of Hawaiians from YWAM Kona and couldn’t have been more blessed by their beautiful hearts. I made a new sort of family there and was definitely sad to say goodbye.

June-September: But the time had come to be back in Perth. Only a month away from the next quarter of schools starting. This is when I usually work with the beginning phase of the Birth Attendant School, where they have 3 months of introductory lectures in Perth. However, this year I felt led to serve in a different way. While I madly tried to prepare for my upcoming nuptials I also took on the role of staffing the entry-level school into Youth With a Mission called a DTS (discipleship training school) Whew, how’s that for wordy? This DTS had a focus on Human-Trafficking and Prostitution.  For nearly three months I spent everyday helping to disciple an incredibly eager group of students who had come from many different nations to grow in their relationship with God and learn how to make God known in the nations.

Somehow, in some miraculous way, I managed to have a wedding near the end of the school. I took two weeks off. One was spent with my amazing parents and friends who flew all the way from America and Denmark to be help me in my mini-bridezilla moments leading up to the big day. The day of the wedding couldn’t have gone any better. It was a dream. As full time missionaries we had to trust God and fundraise for every single detail of the wedding. Honestly, I give it 5 stars. God is good. He is so generous and faithful and I was absolutely blown away at the way our community in YWAM came around and served us for our wedding. These people are absolutely amazingly gifted and should be making millions in the “real world” but instead have completely submitted their gifting to God and they are changing the world because of it.

We had a mini-honeymoon in the beautiful Margaret River just a few hours away from Perth before heading back to finish the last week of the schools we worked with.

October: Now finally it was time to take a break. We spent 6 weeks in America and it was an absolutely marvelous time. We ate what I consider to be the best food in the world and relentlessly tried to counteract it in the gym as much as possible. I got to see my baby sister with her impeding pregnant belly and then watched my niece enter the world and take over the heart of everyone in the room. Chenaniah and I liver together for the first time, and have worked out what it looks like to share a bed and a life with each other. Being married is the best and most challenging thing I have ever done (but I'll save that for another blog) We were filled up and refreshed with our time spent with family, friends, and our church.

The majority of our time, once again, was spent fundraising.
In order to return to Australia I needed quite a hefty costing visa that set us behind a few thousand dollars. And we somehow needed to get enough money to fly ourselves to Africa and then back to Australia. Seemed daunting and overwhelming in the beginning but I had to remind myself that the battle wasn’t mine to fight. Everything we were raising for was the word of the Lord to us. God called us and while it seemed impossible to see so much come in immediately after raising so much for our wedding, I could not doubt his faithfulness to us and I know His provision would come.  And that it did. It may have come with doubts, fears and tears, and what seemed like sacrifice (I had high hopes of revisiting my dear friends in Disneyland) but to be honest its no real cost serving God. It’s not a sacrifice; it’s a privilege to have to trust God with every part of our life. We are completely dependent on Him. Sometimes I forget that and try to take things into my own hands and put my trust in myself or other people. But God always reminds me its not others that ultimately provide for me- it’s Him. It’s always going to be Him.

So there it is. One year. 9 countries. Countless cities and stops. From dating to being engaged to being married. To delivering babies and handing out cookies to prostitutes. To Mickey Mouse. To family. To weddings. To outreaches.

November: So maybe that’s why it the middle of the day, I’m in a new city and instead of seizing the day we’re still sleeping. It makes sense. It’s good to rest. While it may not seem like it, I am learning a lot the power and importance of slowing down. I’m also learning what it looks like to sink into a sea of Grace knowing that when I can’t possibly go on – He can.  And that’s exactly where I need to be.  In a few days Chenaniah’s Music DTS will arrive and we will therefore commence our time here to serve in this nation.  I can’t wait.

There's been a lot going on. And while I know our long term calling is to missions, I also know that this exact lifestyle is just a season. It's on both of our hearts to eventually settle into a country that we can call home. But until then we're unsettled and okay with it. We'll continue to enjoy the airports, random places to sleep, making new friends in new nations, and this crazy adventure of following God around the world.

Thursday, 19 June 2014


For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”14 How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard?[c] And how are they to hear without someone preaching? 15 And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!”

Greetings from Perth. I have just recently returned back from a trip to South Korea. This was my first time in the country. I joined my fiancé with a ministry he has worked with for several years.

My life with YWAM over the past 3 years has taken me all over the world. It’s definitely been a blessing but I often find myself surprised at where the Lord leads me. Without a doubt I still feel called to serve God in the nations. To be a missionary. And my heart is definitely still in dimly lit labor room with too many women and not enough workers. That's what I love. That’s where God has called me. Yet in the past few months I find myself working with prostitutes and then serving alongside an evangelical performing arts group in South Korea. At times it doesn't seem relevant- and yet somehow I know that God is using all these things to sharpen my character and prepare me for even greater things to come. At first, I felt out of place in Korea-not only was I a foreigner, but I was even foreign to the ministry. One thing I don’t do is perform and here I was with a performing arts group. It's such an incredible tool to draw large crowds and preach the gospel so I can definitely appreciate the ministry. But for me, it was a different kind of missions trip than I have ever taken before.  At the end of it all though, all I can say is it was such a blessing to serve in new ways in South Korea. (don't worry, I didn't dance ;) but there was plenty of other ways I was able to help out)

While we were there we partnered alongside Impact World Tour, which is Youth With A Missions largest evangelical campaign.
As you probably saw in the news, South Korea experienced a horrible disaster a couple months back. Nearly 300 people, mainly schoolchildren, lost their life when a ferry suddenly sunk. We arrived in Korea just a month after the accident and for most of the Koreans the pain from that accident was still fresh.  It was a significant time for us to be there. While some of the major stadium events that were planned had to be canceled we had a great opportunity to work alongside the local church and to help bring them some hope, comfort, and even joy in their time of loss. In preparation time for going it was clear that our team was to go and whether or not we would see people saved or people blessed -it was more important to be obedient than relevant.

the group performing for one of the local schools
Despite some of our more major shows being canceled, we still saw many people make first time commitments to follow Jesus. And as great as it was to see salvations, I feel that the real impact was made in the spiritual realm.  We felt like the Lord was speaking to us through Isaiah 61, which says, “provide for those who grieve in Zion-- to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”

It was a privilege to be apart of what God was doing for our brothers and sisters in Korea.

Thanks again for all those who have partnered with me through prayer or through giving.

Monday, 7 April 2014

prostitutes and prayer

Behind a mega-church, in a dingy, dark laneway there’s a door that most people would walk by and not notice.
“Thai massage,” it reads.
And today there’s a small red sign that attaches to that door that says, “open”
Last time we came it was locked up and looked abandoned.

 The only thing we can do is knock.

It’s Thursday afternoon and I’m doing what I normally do on this day-brothel outreach. Since coming back from Zambia and India, I have rejoined the ministry in Perth that works with Human Trafficking and Prostitution.  Our ministry has 5 objectives - Prevention, Advocacy, Research, Networking, and Direct Care.
Being in the brothels with the workingwomen is a way we can do both research and direct care.

So we knock on the door. It slightly opens and we are semi-greeted with a confused look from a small Asian woman. About that time some construction men walk by, giving each other equally confused glances but never making eye contact with us. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about the men who frequent these brothels. Often they keep their head down, as if that somehow makes them invisible to everyone who knows exactly what they are doing. They don’t say much but they exchange some type of familiar grumbling to the little Asian woman. This small interaction shows me that these men and this little woman have met before.

“We’ve brought you cookies,” I say as the men disappear into the alleyway. This is just one strategy we feel like the Lord has given us in order to get into these places. Because let’s face it- it’s a little peculiar when some Christian girls come knocking at a house where women are selling their bodies for sex.  

How do you actually get in to the brothels? That’s a question that gets asked a lot and one we definitely had to take to God in prayer.

Food, especially baked goods is a way into most people’s hearts. So while it may be a feeble attempt, it’s one we have seen work pretty regularly.

Anyways. I think I caught her off guard with my baked goods.

“No. No. I don’t have no money,” she says in broken English. 
Three times she refuses. Three times I insist. And just before she closes the door in our face, I remember the other strategy God has given us.
“English lessons, free English lessons, “ I say desperately as the door almost shuts.

Suddenly her whole demeanor changes.
“You have English lessons?” 
The door flings opens.
“Come in, come in.” She motions to my coworker and me.
She offers for us to sit down and by the looks of the place, I hesitate but know I can’t refuse her hospitality.
There are nude paintings on the wall, but nothing too vulgar. I have certainly seen worse.

Lin is originally from Vietnam but spent most of her time in Thailand and came to Australia as a refugee. I don’t know much of her story, but I know her life hasn’t been easy. She barely speaks English and has lived in the country for 25 years.

She is lonely.  She isn’t shy to open up and talk about that. She has no money and doesn’t see that there can be opportunity for her to work in a different industry.  She is sitting alone in this place that says it’s supposed to be a massage parlor.

She doesn’t come straight out and say she’s a prostitute but with the rooms seductively decorated and adorned with a large bed and shower and some other insinuating paraphernalia- it doesn’t take much to see what’s going on here.

She’s doing what she can. So she thinks. She’s just trying to get by.

She tells us that she recently had breast cancer and is now in remission. We tell her about our faith and who we believe God to be and although she has never heard the Gospel before, she agrees that perhaps God is after her. Since she is “healed from cancer and some nice girls come to help me with English"

She pulls out some children’s English workbooks to show us she really has been trying to learn English.

My heart breaks for this woman. The only thing she has become familiar with since seeking refuge in Australia 25 years ago is poverty. I’m sad to know she spends her life locked up in a dingy, dark place where men come and go and she does what she thinks she needs to in order to get by.

Sometimes people just need to be told they are special. Worthwhile. Valued. Loved. 
After working with so many prostitutes, I realize most of these women have no idea of these simple, yet revolutionary ideas.
They have a purpose.

While we may not immediately see them set free from the life they have chosen or been placed into- we can visit them. Love them. Converse with them. Show interest in them that isn’t self-gaining or self-seeking. We may be the only people they interact with that don’t take something from them.

Lin’s face has lightened and she repeatedly thanks us for coming to see her.  It was a simple act from us, but it speaks volumes to her. We ask her if we can pray for her. We ask if we can pray to the God we have told her about. She is happy to receive prayer.

So there in that dingy, dark laneway, behind this suspicious looking door in what some people like to refer to as the “den of iniquity” we have the privilege of inviting the presence of God into the place. Into a brothel! After we finish praying Lin hugs us repeatedly. She connected with us and I think that just for a moment she has felt loved.

Friday, 24 January 2014

very truly I tell you

It was late at night and I had already seen a truckload of insane things happening.  The midwives were on strike again and the busy referral hospital we were working at was in dire need of help.
Women were lined up on the floor in the hallway, often screaming in agony as they somewhat patiently waited for a bed to labor on. All the beds, of course, were already full and babies were coming at a rapid rate. I was called into the admissions room, where the poor doctors were in over their heads with all the women waiting to be seen.
“Please check her,” they said to me as they motioned over to a fragile looking “older” woman. I say “older,” because while she may have only been around 35, compared to the many 15 and 16 year olds I’d seen lately she was well past her prime.
She apathetically lay on the admitting table while chaos ensued around her.  She took off her undergarments so she could be examined and exposed the small pool of blood she was laying in. She was 21 weeks pregnant and having a miscarriage. I was instructed to admit her into the labor ward and let her “pass the baby.” Obviously my heart felt compassion for this mother of 7 who was losing her baby. I searched around the rooms until I found a couple cushions I could lay out on the floor to make her comfortable. I laid the cloth material she brought with her out over the worn down cushions. It was the most I could do to create an atmosphere of dignity. She was alone on the floor waiting for her baby that had died to come out. I stroked the top of her forehead as I often do for my laboring mothers. She was strong and seemingly unaffected by her misfortune but I knew in her culture she didn’t have any other choice but to be strong. The busyness continued around us and I had a moment of fearing that perhaps this mother would continue to bleed more than necessary and her life could be at risk. I leaned down on the floor with her and prayed for life.

I went to respond to a women screeching out in pain in a room close by.  Id be back to check on this mother soon enough, I hoped.  And fortunately I was back in time to help her little baby, which was coming feet first, be delivered into the world.  The tiny body was so delicate and just barely larger than my small hands. I knew I had to be careful with him. This was a miscarriage after all, and I didn’t know how long the baby had been dead or if the integrity of his little frame would allow him to stay together. I laid him gently between his mother’s legs on the space left on cushion and turned to her to help ensure she wasn’t hemorrhaging. 

Suddenly one of my students yelled out from behind me, “he’s breathing!”

I looked down at this little body that had already been “dead” for quite some time. And there, right before my disbelieving eyes I watched his little chest inflate with air and then deflate back down. I watched for several suspenseful seconds thinking I must have seen something wrong. 

But it happened again.


We cut his cord and rushed him to the resuscitation table to receive oxygen. I stayed with the mother while some of the students and the only nurse on duty that night went with the baby to fight for his life.

This woman had so many complications. She was having a miscarriage! Definitely. And yet God softly reminded me of a simple prayer of life I had prayed over his mother.  In the moment I thought of my lack of faith and how I didn’t even think to pray for the baby. Yet God, in His mercy heard my prayer for life and He responded.  It was a miracle.

Together with the mother we thanked God for her safe delivery and for the LIFE of her son.
Within a couple days the baby died. He was indeed too young to be out in the world. And even though he isn’t alive today, I thank God for his short lived life. And for the way it grew my faith and reminded me to pray and believe that the Creator of the universe wasn't joking when He said,

"12 Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. 13 And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. 14 You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it."

Thursday, 21 November 2013

love anyway

 *i have changed the name of the woman I wrote about just to give some privacy where its due. I have blurred out her eyes for the same reason. 

Once the large masses of pregnant women get their bellies measured and babies’ heartbeats heard, it tends to slow down a bit in the antenatal ward. That’s where I was posted with 4 students on the day I met Fiona. When there’s not too much work to be done (and even sometimes where there is) I like to take time to just visit the patients, sit with them, pray for them, and be their friend. The aim is to be a blessing, but the majority of the time I think I walk away more blessed by them. African women are so sweet and kind. And they make me laugh.

Most of the women who are admitted to the antenatal ward are there because they have some type of serious problem affecting their pregnancy. The beds are lined up and the women admitted into them are piled on top of one another.

There’s never a shortage of prayers to be prayed or conversations to be had.

On this day, my attention was somehow drawn to a little side room with only two beds. When I walked in I saw a young women lying down tied to her bed. 
This wasn’t what had my attention though.

It was the putrid smell that was thick in the air that had the strange effect of both repulsing me drawing and me in all at the same time.
It didn’t take long for me to locate the culprit.  
Across from the woman who tied down to her bed I saw Fiona. Fiona’s breaths were  heavy and labored, as if she would take her last one at any moment. Her extremely frail body was contorted into such a way that you would think she was in the midst of an exorcism.  The tumors around her face and neck were painful to even look at.

I was sure in my mind she must have been both mentally and physically disabled and probably would have no idea I was even there.
But I knew I needed acknowledge her presence. I drew near to her face to say hello and I stroked the top of her head. She smiled the most beautiful smile.  It was then I realized it wasn’t a mental disability that subjected her to her bed.

It was however, a series of other life- threatening conditions;

Fiona was diagnosed with AIDS
And several other opportunistic infections.

As if this list from the pit of hell couldn’t get any worse, I quickly found out that not only is Fiona dying, but,  she is only 20 years old and just so happens to be 24 weeks pregnant. While she couldn’t have weighed more than 90 pounds, there below her protruding chest bones was a little tiny baby bump.  
These are those gut-wrenching scenarios that always presents with a lot of  “whys” and rarely have a lot of explanation.

Fiona cannot speak English, but even if she had been able to communicate with me-the grapefruit sized tumors around her face and neck robbed her of that opportunity.

It was in that moment my heart adopted Fiona. I was locked in. Connected. And committed to her case.

I, along with several other members from my team, committed to visiting this sweet girl as often as possible. The prognosis wasn’t good, but the prayers we prayed were fervent. And I had hope for her case. Often I would bring in the Doppler, which is a small machine that allows both of us to listen to the baby’s heart. We would hear it and both smile. Inside, I would let out a huge sigh of relief. I often feared for the life of her unborn child, and rightfully so -she was barely keeping herself alive, let alone the little on inside of her.

Some days Fiona was so sick and fragile I feared her last breath to be eminent. And then some days I would find her walking (slowly of course) in the hallway coming from a shower. She seemed to being doing okay.

I tried to get some background information on her, but it always proved to be impossible. Doctors weren’t around. Nurses weren’t aware. Fiona was a great mystery to me. If it weren’t for the ghostwriter in her medical file, I would have never known anything about this girl who had become my friend.  Somewhere in the thick pages of her case, I read that she was scheduled for a c-section in a couple weeks. I made a mental note of the date and ensured myself I’d be there for the surgery.

Then that fretful day came where I went into her room and she wasn’t there. I frantically asked around to find out where she had be taken.
She was in labor.
I rushed to the Special Observation Unit where I found her in one of the worst conditions I’d ever seen.

Her body can’t handle the agony of contractions. This woman has nothing left to give. How will she even push?
Doctors were in and out of the room.  They were incredibly concerned about her case. I was informed that the condition of her blood was so poor that while it was better for her to have a c-section because of her conditions, it would not be possible. Fiona’s blood was too weak and she lacked the ability for her blood to properly clot after the birth if they cut her open.  With a c-section she would surely bleed to death. If she delivered, she could also bleed to death, but with only a leap of faith, the doctors chose the lesser of the two evils.

“She needs prayer.”

I think I told every healthcare worker that came in to see her. And everyone just nodded in agreement. Countless times we were told, “she won’t survive the delivery.”  Without a doubt her prognosis was death. There was a greater possibility for the baby to survive (now at around 30 weeks gestation) but the mother had little hope.

Or at least that is what I was told. 

I knew I couldn’t leave her side until the baby was born. Someone had to be there to intercede. So I began to monitor her labor. I, along with a couple of the students took on the role of being her midwife. But she needed much more than midwifery care. She needed a miracle. So we stayed with her. We prayed, interceded, counted contractions, read scripture, changed her diaper, played worship music, took her vitals, listened to her baby’s heart rate, laughed a little, prayed some more and this cycle went on and on. The hours came and went and the labor barely progressed. With each passing moment Fiona loss more and more energy. All we could do was pray.

Several doctors and midwives came and went, often both touched and perplexed by our commitment to this one patient. In our time glued to Fiona’s bedside, we had several opportunities to speak with these doctors about God’s heart and His value for life and how necessary it is to depend on Him in our practice, because after all, He is the greatest Physician.

After about 11 hours with her, a couple other people from the team took over from us to watch her throughout the night and did the same thing.
Our team never left Fiona’s side. 
When the morning came, we made our way back to the hospital. Felt like I never left. She had dilated a couple more centimeters in the night, but wasn’t near ready to deliver.

The pain began to be unbearable for her and there wasn’t much we could do. The crew that stayed overnight had been there for over 12 hours (after already working a shift in the day) but they were prepared to stay even longer should it be necessary.

But before we knew it (and much sooner than we expected) Fiona was ready to deliver.
To say she was “weak,” would be a grand understatement. While her baby was estimated to weigh only around 3 pounds, she didn’t have the strength to push the little one out.

A couple hours after her birth
The doctor was called and a vacuum extraction was ordered.  We helped in every way that we could, but what was most needed was the presence of God. She could bleed to death in this very moment. It wasn’t a joke. It was the reality. Tension was thick in the air, but the Peace that passes all understanding drowned it out. Fiona’s little baby girl was born well, cried and was taken immediately into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.
All hands were on board to prepare for a massive hemorrhage for Fiona.  But an amazing thing happened. She barely bled. Within minutes she was stable, cleaned up, wrapped up and recovering from her delivery.

Fiona's grandmother, thanks Grace with a big hug
Fiona was alive. Her baby was alive and God had answered our prayers. She was a miracle. Her grandmother came into the room and together we rejoiced over the life that was not lost.

There is no medical explanation as to why both her and her baby did so well for this delivery.  All fingers point to the God who heals and gives life, and answers prayers.
I feel blessed to be apart of seeing life when all that can be anticipated is death.  Fiona has a beautiful baby girl that we named Evelyn, which means life.


A week after Fiona’s delivery I was able to wheel her up to the NICU so that she could both meet and hold her baby girl for the first time. What a special moment. Because she had tuberculosis, she wasn’t able to stay in the ward long. But Fiona starred at her daughter and knew she was okay.

Fiona made the decision to sign the baby over to social welfare. Her mother had died of AIDS when she was just a child and she didn’t want her baby to watch her suffer. The baby was left for several weeks in the NICU. Just a tiny thing. She needed to be fed and held and loved and our team was more than willing to do all those things for her. What she needed most though, was a mommy.

 Fiona was growing stronger. She seemed to even be putting on weight. Her condition was the best I had ever seen.  And then one day, when I showed up to visit her she was gone. She had been discharged and would only be coming in to start receiving her chemotherapy. I felt so much hope for this hopeless case. God had done a miracle in her life already and now she seemed to be doing so much better. I knew chemotherapy would take a toll on her body, but somewhere in my mind I imaged her being totally healed and taking baby Evelyn back into her home to care for her.

However, on Tuesday I got news the Fiona had died.

I am still shocked to hear the news and I have no understanding of what happened. I’m just reminded that she did after all have AIDS and cancer. And while she seemed to be getting better, I know that with such conditions things can take a turn for the worst quickly.

I grieve the loss of this sweet young woman. I thank God that I was able to meet her and intercede for her. She was and still is a miracle. I am grateful to God that I can be certain that she labored in dignity.  She was cared for and loved by the love of the Father and my hope is that even though we weren’t there for her death, she would have still breathed her last breath in dignity as well. 

Evelyn has been placed in a home for babies. I just so happened to be at this home when she arrived from the hospital. I was able to give her  her first bath and first little outfit she ever had. She’s just still weighing about 3 pounds but she is a beautiful baby girl. Her blood tests have revealed her to be negative for HIV, which is just another one of the many miracles she is associated with. I have prayed countless prayers over this little child. She may never know the fight that was over her life. She wont know the many times she was fed and held and nurtured by foreign strangers who prayed prayers of hope for her but may her life always be anointed. I truly have faith that it will be.

Saturday, 12 October 2013


I have safely arrived to Zambia. Its good to be back in the African culture, and exciting to come to a new nation (this is my first time here.) It was an adventure getting here, as expected when traveling across the world with 25 people.  The journey included an unexpected sleepover in Thailand and somewhat patiently sitting in the “airport” in Kenya for 7 hours.  But lo and behold we’ve arrived.

Sitting here, I can’t help but feel incredibly grateful to those who have given to me in order for me to be here. This year I needed to see $5,100 come in.
And I did.
That’s a miracle.

God is so generous.  People have been so generous. And I want to say another big THANK YOU to everyone who has contributed in anyway to make this trip possible.

Yesterday we jumped straight into work and began to serve in the Maternity Ward at one of the local hospitals here in Zambia. Just so happens that yesterday the Zambian midwives also went on strike at the hospital. So essentially we orientated ourselves. I had 6 students working with me in the labor ward. For most of the students, this was their first time even seeing a birth. And they got thrown right into the mix of things, possibly more than I would have preferred on their first day. But when the workers are few, other options become limited. It was a bit hectic, but overall the students did great.

I had the privilege of welcoming the schools first official little one into the world.  Preceding her 4 other siblings, Annabel was born crying and chubby, just as she should be. She did really well and came with little effort or difficulty to her part-time professional birthing mother.  African women are so strong.

I will keep you updated with stories to come.

With love,

Tuesday, 3 September 2013

from one mother to another campaign

 I'm in the process of fund raising right now.  I still need to see 3,500 dollars come in by this time next week. Its a daunting figure, but I have already been so blessed by the generosity of others and I am trusting that I will see the release of this money. If you would please pray about patterning with me as I trust to see these finances come in. Whether that just be committing to pray or financially contributing both are much needed and MUCH appreciated.

I never forget that everything I have been able to do in missions is because God has been faithful to me and part of His faithfulness is represented in sharing His generosity with me and through other people who give to me.

I am doing a campaign that you can see by clicking on the link below.
If you're interested in giving to me you can do that through this link or you can also give by the donate button on top of this blog.

God Bless you!!!

Monday, 19 August 2013

the birth attendants

Hey! Notice some exciting changes to my blog.
On the right side there’s a white box that allows you to enter in your email and have my newest posts sent directly to your inbox!
Also, there’s a new donation option through paypal. You can now monthly "subscribe" (this means make monthly financial support to me) by clicking on the link and entering in your debit/credit information. You can also still use the “donate” button to just make a one time donation. Paypal wont charge you anything additional for using its services.

And while we’re on the topic, other ways of donating is through the organization I work with Youth With A Mission Perth. Here’s the link;
On “step 1” it asks you to identify who the donation is for. Here you would just click on staff and enter my name

Sumithra learning how to use a stethoscope
And if you aren’t internet savy, but you know my parents you can always write a check, make it out to my name and hand it to my mom. She would be happy to put it in my bank account for me. (thanks mom!)


We are still in the lecture phase over here in Australia. This means that the students are in class 5 days a week learning how to be midwives in developing nations. More specifically they are learning how to be midwives who serve God first and how to use this skill in missions as a form of evangelism. Its really incredible to see people learning simple skill that will literally save lives. And even more than that, its so exciting to see these women getting Gods heart for the nations, His heart for motherhood and how He intended pregnant women to be treated, His heart for women and children, for the restoration of families, His heart for justice. They are learning how to pray, how to intercede, how to cultivate hope and faith in places where there seems to be none. With each lecture we have, every quiz that’s given, every workshop we practice in- God is preparing them and releasing them more and more into their calling. It’s a privilege to be apart of that. These are some incredible students. I am honored to work alongside and help lead these women as they prepare to go. They have left their homes, their countries, their families, their jobs and any security they have had to say yes to God and yes to responding to the desperate need of missionaries and healthcare workers for women, children, and families around the world.

An Aussie midwife teaching the students how to palpate a pregnant belly

Each of the students are trusting God for around $8,500 dollars in order to spend 8 months on the mission field. I am trusting for $5,500 in order to take them. (I’m going for a shorter time than them)  

If you would be interested in helping us get there you can use any of the payment options listed above. I have 5 weeks to see this money come in. If you know any businesses, organizations, or fundraisers that could help us get to Zambia, Ethiopia, and India please let me know. I need your help!

Bless you!

I am posting a link to a video that a previous Birth Attendant student made. It gives a bit more of a picture of some of the work that we will be doing. Feel free to share it!