my year, my eyes

As an end of the year project we were asked to creatively answer the question to, "What is God’s heart for mother and child healthcare in the nations"

Here's my response;

I have watched a group of individual women leave their homes, leave their family, their jobs, their relationships, their lives and board a plane not knowing what was to be expected when they landed. Not knowing what the future held but expectant of letting God use them in the nations. I watched women willing to pursue God’s heart for midwifery knowing that ultimately it would be his Heart for the nations and the women and babies that fill them.

 

I watched the first time we officially gathered as a group. We were friendly and still a bit mysterious to one another but I saw us forming our friendships. Bonding in our sisterhood. Aware of that our future lives would be tied together.

I have watched women awkwardly pronounce the bones and the structures of a pelvis. I watched as we eagerly soaked in any ounce of information pertaining to midwifery. We were hungry for the knowledge, desperate for the wisdom. And we were finally around a group of people who felt the same way. We soaked in the goodness of Gods value for pregnant women. We learned to be advocates for justice. For women and children. It was real yet it was all still in theory.

Then we left. We boarded a plane and landed in the ever so noisy and colorful streets of Hyderabad. We were students not just learning in the hospitals. We were students to the culture, students to the customs. Students to one another. Learning how to live life with others in sometime challenging circumstances. We were students to patience and selflessness, flexibility and understanding. Our boundaries were pushed. Our own cultures were challenged and yet we learned how to love one another in the midst of it. We learned, after all that this too was Gods heart.  Unity. Respecting and valuing the women amongst us so that we could have the authority to value the ones who needed it most. Those who were in the hospital having babies and suffering because of it.

I watched as we fumbled in the hospital. Hands shaking and thoughts unsure. I watched as we tried to put into practice everything we’ve studied over the past 3 months. We were still hungry for the knowledge but we were hungry for more than just book smarts. We wanted to get our hands messy. We wanted to serve. We wanted to deliver babies. And we did. 273 of them in fact.  Our theory became reality. We were learning in a different way now.

I watched as we built relationships amongst the people in India. The mothers, the doctors, the sisters, the diiiiiiiimaaaaas.  We learned to invest into the lives of Gods people. We ate rice and spicy curry with our hands and sipped on milky chai while sharing the gospel. We prayed. We learned to laugh and to cry and let our hearts be filled with compassion, joy, and love for the people we met. We made friends. We shared Gods heart and got to experience more of it at the same time.

We became Indian princesses. (well, sort of)   We let ourselves be used by the Savior. We saw the fruit of our work, usually. And we learned to trust God when we didn’t.  I watched as we lived in India. We loved in India. And we grew as midwives and as women in India.

And then I watched as we took on our next adventure.

We went back to the classroom. But now behind every lesson we had a story. An encounter that helped bring understanding. We studied together. We committed to learning the knowledge not for our own benefit, but for the benefit of the women. For the moms that we were meeting on a daily basis. PPH became real.  Obstructed labor was what we physically saw when we went to work. And all the sudden we knew how to spot it and handle it. We could help. I watched as a group of inexperienced, young midwife students took on the task of caring for women in labor. Taking on the challenge of complications. Relying on the Lord for answers. And seeing lives saved as a result of it.

We lost our first mom in Tanzania. We lost babies. Too many to count. I watched as we had moments of doubts and insecurities. Wondering why God was allowing this to happen. But then I watched as we realized it was time to step into battle. To fight for the women. To fight for the lives of the babies. We saw life. And while we weren’t always successful, we knew firsthand that the enemy was there to steal, kill, and destroy and we weren’t about to sit back and let that happen.

And then to my pleasant surprise, I watched as we turned into to midwives.  I watched as God did miracles in the hospital and in our lives. I watched and was reminded that God loves these women so much that He sent us to come to them. He hasn’t forgotten them. He hasn’t forsaken them. He’s not leaving them. We’re here for them. Because He loves them.

Then I watched as we completed our studies. We took on the task of the hospital 5 days a week.. We did well. We exhausted ourselves in the best way possible and then we prepared to pack up. Again.

I watched as we finally made it to Uganda. The last stretch. Can it be? 

I’ve watched as my sisters have worked as midwives. I’ve watched as they’ve confidentially taught women around them the importance of eating right and taking care of themselves during their pregnancy. I’ve watched as they’ve worked in a labor room, confident of what they were doing. Secure in their movements and motives. I’ve watched as they’ve given injection after injection to countless number of women and babies. I’ve watched as they’ve sat in a mud hut with just enough light peaking through a cracked door and answered the questions of a concerned mother. “No, mama. You haven’t been pregnant for one year.”

How did this happen? How did these girls, most of whom have never even seen a birth learn so much over the year?

And then I’m reminded that this too is Gods heart for women and child health.  God’s heart is to see women willing to go.

I learned that women are capable of incredible things. I learned that God has made us strong and sometimes that looks different for different circumstances. Sometimes it means she’s strong enough to leave her home knowing she won’t return for a year. Sometimes it means she’s willing to face her fears. To look at confidence and choose to be clothed in it, not for her own sake but for the sake of others. It means she’ll use her skills even before she feels ready to.

Sometimes it means growing a life inside of her, nourishing it, loving it, and then laboring through it so it can welcomed into the world.

One thing for certain is that God’s heart is for women. He loves us. God never intended for a woman to sit alone on a cold bed covered with cockroaches and give birth. God never intended for women to die because of hemorrhaging or lack of blood available in the local bank.  God never intended to form a life and then lose it moments after welcoming it into the world. And while, at times, it may have seemed this way over the year, I have learned and I can say with certainty that His heart was and never is going to be for these things. That’s why He sent us.  That’s why He wooed us away from our homes and sparked in us an interest for pregnancy and childbearing women. He hasn’t turned His back on the tragedy in the labor room. His heart is breaking over it. And that’s why our hearts broke too. And that’s why He’s still sending us, still molding us into midwives and women who fight for the well being of other women.