Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.

"Your presence is all I'm longing for here in the secret place
Your nearness is all I'm waiting for here in the quiet place
Here in the secret place
My soul waits for you alone
Just like the watchmen wait for dawn
Here I've finally found the place
Where we'll meet, Lord, face to face
I've finally found where I belong
I've finally found where I belong, in your presence
I've finally found where I belong, Lord
To be with you, to be with you
I am my Beloved's and He is mine
So come into your garden and take delight in me
Take delight in me
Here in Your presence, God, I find my rest
Here in Your presence, God"

Its early in the morning and the cool aftermath of last nights rain feels refreshing on my skin. It's muddy and the red dirt and unpaved roads make a mess of my shoes and legs as I begin the 15 minute hike to get to a car that can take us to our destination. This week it's to the clinic. Transportation takes just under two hours everyday but it's an enjoyable, serene drive. I can't help but notice the children who are up early and working incredibly hard- shoeless, plowing the fields and helping the family survive. The amount of times this week I saw young children, 5 to 6 years old carrying an infant tied securely onto their back as they worked in the fields alongside others, is endless.
This can be heartbreaking to see.

"These kids should be in school," I couldn't help but think.

When they see us pass by they stop and scream and smile with their somehow unbelievably perfect white teeth (a mouth mystery I have yet to solve) and yell,
"BYEEE MUZUNGU!! BYE MUZUNGU!!"(white person)
Sometimes they run up and ask for money but usually they just want to be hugged. And in all their raggeded clothes and unbathed bodies you just can't help but love them. They are glorious.
And I can't help but feel overwhelmed by their circumstance. They are literally doing hard manual labor. Labor that we hire strong men to do in America. These children are young- 4, 5, 6 , 8 maybe? And they are robbed of the opportunity to have a "normal" childhood. Well, normal in my eyes. This is their normal. This is Uganda.  An incredibly lush and gorgeous country filled with amazingly beautiful human beings. But a country that is filled with poverty. There's injustice in this. I think that goes without saying.

 I did some research. Being here and living amongst these people I have seen firsthand the unfortuante reality of the statistics I found;

Statistics of Uganda, Africa

• Only 57% of children in Uganda will complete primary school.
• Only 12% of primary school graduates will enroll in secondary school.
• Only 3% of secondary school graduates will go on to higher education.
• Over 50% of Uganda's population is under the age of 15 making it the youngest country in the world.
• 10,000 Ugandan children currently HIV+ and/or living with AIDS.
• A girl's likelihood of contracting HIV/AIDS is cut by 50% by simply completing primary school.
• Over 1,000,000 children in Uganda, between the ages of 6-12, are not in school.
• Only 35% of adult Ugandans are illiterate. 9 million people are living on less than $1 per day.

(http://jukesfoundationforkids.org/about-us/statistics)

I can't help but love these kids so much. Cute wouldn't begin to describe them. They are the definition of joy. Even in the midst of not having anything, sometimes not even a shirt to wear, seriously, they are radiant. God, I know His gentle heart is FOR them. I know that there is countless scriptures about taking care of the orphans and I know that somehow there is a solution. I know that I don't know the solution for this problem. I know I probably can't fix it, but I know I can love them in the midst of it. And that's what I got to do this week. Please pray for the children in Uganda. In Proverbs it tells us to, 

"Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves,
    for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly;
    defend the rights of the poor and needy"

Their situation, it's not hopeless so lets never cease to speak up for them. Pray for these children.

Besides playing with children, I had a good week. The clinic was small and a much slower pace than these crazy government hospitals I have been working at. We labored with some women, delivered some babies, did immunizations and I may or may not have been involved with performing adolescent male circumcision as a preventative HIV measure. But we can save that story for another time.

Its been another good week in Uganda.

helping a laboring mama open up those hips!

swing wide, mama

A man on the side of the road wearing a cervix shirt, unknowingly of course. Love!

Before I go, I must pause and say that TODAY the most AMAZINGLY INCREDIBLY CAPABLE HUMBLE GENEROUS AND LOVING person that I know is turning 50.
She often likes to tell me that we were cut from the same cloth.
I can only hope so.

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, mom! 

some good readings...

Blessed Be, by Leigh Steele

"If you’ve ever wondered what it looks like to see a poem write itself, kneel on a warm floor and watch a mother unfurl herself to make way for the passage of her baby.

If you’ve ever pondered what a poem sounds like, close your eyes and listen to the song that fills every empty space in a room as a woman rains down her tune in birth.

If you’ve ever wondered how a poem moves from stanza to stanza, then pull up a chair to the wild eyes behind the sweaty hair of a maiden morphing into a mother.

And if, by chance, you’ve ever wondered what a poem tasted like on your tongue, kiss the head of a babe fresh from from the womb and then the temple of the woman who just brought her forth."

Ephesians 3:14-21

"My response is to get down on my knees before the Father, this magnificent Father who parcels out all heaven and earth. I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit—not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength—that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you'll be able to take in with all followers of Jesus the extravagant dimensions of Christ's love. Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God.

 God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.

Glory to God in the church!
Glory to God in the Messiah, in Jesus!
Glory down all the generations!
Glory through all millennia! Oh, yes!"

week one in Uganda

I made it to Uganda! The trip was supposed to take 24 hours but actually took 26. What's another couple hours after a whole day spent on a bus though? I didn't see any giraffes, but we did have to slam on our brakes at one point to avoid hitting a herd of zebras. Thanks Kenya. You came through.

Week one finished in Uganda. I only have 6 weeks left of this adventure so I figure I will just send a weekly update out so I can let you know how things are going while I process my week.

Uganda

I’m adjusting well to Uganda. It’s an unbelievably beautiful country. Our accommodation, which happens to be quite unadorned in appearance, sits right on Lake Victoria. It’s a serene view and I am coming to appreciate the slower pace of the “village” lifestyle.  However, being away from the city makes the normal conveniences that Africa has already taken away from us seem to be even further away.  A hot shower is just a good theory and nothing I’ve experienced in months. My toilet, which is shared with 6 other women, is a hole in the ground. So squatting it is and I plan on having strong thighs to show for it. The Internet takes a while to get to it, and once I can get to it I can only pray that it’s actually working. Our food, which consists of rice, beans, and cabbage twice a day is…well…. rice, beans, and cabbage.  Not much to say about that. Every country I have been to I have encountered a different type of creature on a daily basis. In India it was mice and rats. In Tanzania it was geckos and ants and here in Uganda it’s bats. They live in our ceiling and often like to go for a nice evening stroll through our room while we try to sleep. Just waiting any moment now for Count Dracula to wake me up.  All this being said though, I really enjoy being here. It’s simple and a little bit of a slower pace but after 61/2 months of living my life like this, I am okay with taking things slow while I ease my way out.

 

Our team of 21 has split up into 3 teams. One team went to the Buvuma Islands on Lake Victoria and worked at the local clinic doing antenatal care and immunizations. Another team went to a health centre/mini hospital and worked alongside the midwives there. The third team stayed “home” and was involved with doing a lot of health care teaching to different women’s groups and ministries involved with the YWAM base here in Jinja. The teams will be rotating weekly so that everyone gets a chance to work in every area. This week I was on the home team. We started the week off working with a ministry called Women of Hope. This group meets several times a week and focuses on discipling and teaching the women of the local village.

We were able to spend some time with these women, teaching them the importance of taking care of themselves and having well balanced meals and good nutrition amongst a lot of other things. We shared testimonies’ from the hospital and together we encouraged each other in our faith. Many of the women we met with are HIV positive, new believers and alone in their faith. They are mothers and sisters and suffering but finding hope in what they believe in. Their dedication for showing up to this class is refreshing. These ladies were lovely and so much fun to spend time with. We met with them under a tree on a patch of grass. Together we recognized the authority we have as women. We celebrated the fact that we have such a huge role in creating life and continuing humanity. We reflected on the idea that God only took 1 week to create the whole universe but spends 40 weeks creating us! How special we are! There was a lot of “HALLELUJAHs” and “AMENs” going around, and that’s just always fun.

I quickly recognized the importance of sharing simple knowledge with these women. I have found that things that we view as just common knowledge can really be unknown to someone who is uneducated. Sharing information can really change lives. This is empowering the local women, giving them a role and advice and acknowledging that this is God’s heart and His kingdom at work. It’s good to have these types of opportunities.

picking a winner, I suppose.

We did indeed make our way to the hospital at some point in the week, not to work but to pray. We partnered with a new ministry that just began that wants to reach women in the labor ward. The ministry was birthed by a mother who went to a hospital to deliver and felt alone and fearful for her life because of it. She shared with us that for the first time she recognized God as her doctor. She was alone. In a hospital. And her desperation for God to help save the life of her and her baby was real. It was interesting to hear the prospective of an African woman. The government hospitals in these developing nations that I have been working at are not hospitals we are used to in the west. They are overcrowded, unequipped, and understaffed. This creates an environment of uncertainty, doubt, and fear in the women who come to the only place they can go to get healthcare.  Seeing this everyday for months has made me accustomed to this type of environment. I suppose in a way I have grown numb to the idea that it could potentially be an unpleasant place for the laboring mothers. I have made the false assumption that the women are just okay with it. Hearing the birth story of this lady shattered that assumption though. They aren’t okay with it. They just have to do it. They can’t afford the luxury of another choice.  Through all of this God really showed me that I have a heart is to see things changed in the government hospitals. I feel called to be where it’s busy and where there is a huge need.  While God has been revealing this to me over the last few weeks I have contemplated it just being my excitement for delivering babies where its busy. After all, it would be much more fun in theory to deliver babies in a bush by a hut in some small village. That’s what I thought I would want to do.  (don’t get me wrong, still looking forward to that opportunity some day) But I realized this week that I feel called to these government hospitals. The hospitals where yes, 60-90 babies are being birthed a day, but there isn’t enough staff to care for each of them. Where women labor alone and sometime die because of it. Where equipment is lacking and apathy towards any change is thick in the air. If I would have told my past self that I would want to be a missionary in a hospital I can imagine myself scoffing at that idea. It seems easier for people to support and stand besides someone who roughing it in the woods. But here I am. In these cities where hundreds and hundreds of women are seen on a daily basis at a hospital and yet quite possibly feeling more alone and frightened than the woman in her hut with her local birth attendant.  I have come to see that the hospital is my woods, per say and I want to be committed to seeing the circumstances change in these hospitals.

During our trip to the hospital this week I met Betty. Betty was sitting up in her bed recovering from a cesarean section wound.  I approached her bed and asked her how she was doing.

“Not fine,” she responded to me in good English.

“I don’t know if my baby is dead or alive. It was born only 31 weeks and I haven’t seen it. And I’m in pain.”

Betty had an emergency c-section two days earlier due to a premature separation of her placenta.  When she woke up from the anesthesia she only knew that she had delivered her baby and that he wasn’t doing very well, but nothing else was said to her. The staff at this hospital happened to be pleasant and quite capable health care workers, but again when you deal with so many people and you have so many patients and not enough staff -women like Betty get forgotten about. Betty sat alone in her bed without food, water, or understanding of what happened when she birthed a child into the world. Obviously every mother has the right to know the condition of her child.  This is just another example of the injustice these women suffer with on a daily basis.

“I’ll find your baby,” I assured her.

I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for. An answer, I guess. The likelihood of her premature baby being alive was slim, and I was aware of that. But I was also aware that she had the right to know if that was the case. After some questioning and searching I made my way into the neonatal ward. And there, tucked snuggly into some blankets and an incubator was Betty’s little boy. Weighing in at 3.3 pounds and definitely looking like an early arrival, Betty’s son was fighting and needed to see his momma.  I had the privilege of letting Betty know the condition of her son and then walking her and her (heavy) sore body over to the neonatal room to hold her son for the first time.

So that's been my week. 

 

Getting to know the women and some of their stories this week has encouraged me as woman and expanded my heart for serving them. Their daily lifestyle is a struggle that I am not sure I would ever be strong enough to handle. But I continue to be amazed at the endurance of these women. I’m taken aback by their gentleness yet ability to fight and to be strong and to raise and provide for a family. Even if they are poor and sick and dying of HIV, they are still living and they know how to be alive.

Looking forward for what’s in store for the next 5 weeks. 

It will be too fast....this is one truth I am already painfully aware of.

By the way- if you hadn’t noticed I had a paypal “donate” button added to the top of my page. That was my subtle way, and this is my not so subtle way of saying… I’ve now made it easier on you to help me. Just a click away. Please do and thank you. thank you. thank you.

drove by Kilimanjaro on our way through Tanzania

cleaning and settling into our new home

Women of Hope group

statistics are in

I hope you all had  a  beautiful Easter.

I know I said I was "signing off" until Uganda but I got the chance to go to the internet one more time before we board the bus in just a few hours (14- to be exact) I thought it was important to share our statistics. And I share not because I think the numbers are important, per say, but I think the proof that God's at work is worthy of being mentioned.

since October we have delivered 561 babies. I just gotta pause here and picture what a room filled with 561 people would look like and I'm amazed.

since our time in Tanzania (minus a couple weeks that haven't been calculated in yet) we have...
seen 113 salvations
shared Jesus with 964 people
prayed for 2,135 people
seen 3 healings and 24 other miracles
and provided healthcare to 1,661 people.

Today we are running around and getting last minute things done, as you do when you are leaving a country. I'm trying to prep myself for this 24 hour bus ride. I was reminded of a doctor from Burma who came and spoke to us on our school in Perth. He shared a story from when he was hiking through the mountains of Burma to be able to reach a village in desperate need of healthcare. In order to reach them he had to hike continuously for 3 days- without sleep.

How can someone survive without sleep?? That was the natural question that came immedietaley after this causal story was shared.

"I just said NO! to sleep," he said matter-of-factly. 

No to sleep?!?  C'mon, you can't say no to sleep. But he did. And he made it to the village and he helped his people. And I think beyond the fact that this man is sharing that he is a super human, his heart was sharing that we do not need to be controlled by our circumstances. I can be tired (waking up at 4am can do that to you) and I can be hot and exhausted (riding on a bus through Africa makes that easy) but I don't need to turn into a miserable person because my circumstance could be potentially "miserable." I don't have the right. I don't get to pick when I am in a good mood and when I can't be bothered to be kind.

I'm exited for what's in store for me for the next couple days. I actually love road trips. And I happen to love Africa, so I've practically hit the jackpot. I will remember though, the words of the Burmese doctor when its been 16 hours and I can't believe I still have 8 more to go. I'll just say, "NO" to the poor attitude that tries to force itself out of me and I will rejoice in what I get to be doing.

I'll leave (for real this time) with a good song, click (or copy and paste)  if you have the time and enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30K1ynJgSMc

I just had my last day at the hospital here in Tanzania.

I’m not quite sure how to say bye to this place, but in just a few days I am gonna have to. I will board a bus (sans air conditioner mind you) and I will be on a 24 hour adventure through Africa. Driving through Tanzania, popping off quickly for transit visas in Kenya and then settling at a new home in Uganda. 

And I have high hopes of seeing a giraffe along the way.

I think its official now. I’m a vagabond. Just when I start to get really comfortable with a culture, just when I think I have them figured out and I can see myself sticking around-I get pulled out and planted somewhere else.

Australia. India. Now Tanzania.

I’m not complaining though. The last 9 months of my life have been nothing outside of excellent.  

As a midwife, I can choose to stop and reflect on the significance of “9 months”

Conception, being formed, growing. In just a few short months I wont be able to be a student anymore.  While I know I will always be learning in this line of work, I will soon be expected to teach others the skills I have been desperately trying to master. Am I there yet? Am I capable of teaching someone else how to be a midwife? Questions I sometimes find myself thinking about. But as I have seen time and time and time again, there’s always grace when you’re where you’re supposed to be. God doesn’t call us and then leave us. He molds us and shapes us and then He uses us. So while I recognize the reality of my future life, I don’t find myself overwhelmed by the idea. And thankfully I still have two months of practice to conquer anything I’m feeling uncomfortable with.

As I reflect on who I was when I first arrived here at the end of December and who I am today, I can acknowledge a significant amount of growth, both personally and “professionally.”  It’s good to know that. It’s good to know my work was not in vain. My blood, sweat, and tears or more importantly, the blood, sweat, and tears of the women I worked with was not without purpose or cause. I’m more the person I want to be today than I was 3 months ago- and I’m grateful that I have been in an environment that allowed for that kind of growth.  I worked with a lot of women. I delivered babies. I watched surgeries. I gave shots and drew blood. Checked BP’s and gave IV’s. I did prenatal care and postnatal checks. I prayed, a lot. I dealt with complications. I saw death. I saw life and I always tried to remember to do it all so His will can be done on earth as it is in heaven. It has been a truly rewarding experience.

So saying goodbye at the hospital proved to be as hard as I expected it to be.

I really wont be coming through these doors on Monday morning? I really wont work here or belong here anymore. I continuously thought this to myself throughout the day.

I think I’m ready to move forward but it doesn’t make it easy to say goodbye. I have established myself here. I have made friendships with the doctors and the nurses. I have grown as midwife. I have learned so much. I have grown as an individual. I have been stretched and sharpened. Tried and tired. I have laughed. I have cried. I have learned from mistakes.  I’ve been exhausted, overwhelmed, worn out and weary. I have been excited, eager, and filled with an overwhelming sense of joy. 

I been fortunate to experience all of it.

I love the women I have worked with. While I may not remember all of their names, their story and our brief encounter with one another has been etched into my heart. I am touched by their by womanhood, by their strength and their endurance. Their willingness to give birth and then grow families in an environment that many people in my country would call “unsuitable for children.”  But they’re more than capable. They’re poor. They might even sometimes be broken and hurt and lonely but they are lovely. And they know how to value their motherhood and see the importance of their family. And when they smile you know they mean it.  

What’s in store for us in Uganda still remains a bit of a mystery. Talks of more work in hospitals, teaching healthcare seminars, providing antenatal care in villages off of Lake Victoria, and working in clinics, have all been some of the suggested possibilities-but it seems like everything is up in the air right now. It will be my last 6 weeks of this school. Please be praying for me during this time.  I am not ready to check out. I do have to admit it feels a bit strange to not have a concrete plan for our time there, but hey, it leaves room for some adventure and I’m always up for that.

So I’ll be signing off  now… until Uganda.

Love you.

having some fun donating blood before I go..

home visits.

what a beautiful people

friends

more friends

having a water balloon fight for someones birthday

I forced my team into humoring me with a Seder dinner last night.

I enjoyed it

enjoying a day in the operating room

Ingjerd and I

 Our last day posted in the I.C.U and I knew I wanted to go straight to the theater to see some surgeries. I love surgery. I didn't even mind if I didn't get to see an obstetric one, I just wanted another chance to see some cutting. Is that gruesome? It worked out well for me because there were several cesarean sections scheduled. The first one happened to be twins. Ingjerd and I changed into some sterile uniforms and got prepared to watch an interesting procedure.
"Lola,"  they said to me, "you take second baby."

So I did. I received twin B from the womb. Who gave an immediate cry and was doing great. Twin A was flat and unresponsive so together me and the anesthesiologist (not sure why he was involved, but it was good) resuscitated the baby. We prayed for his little life, which appeared to be hopeless but after some time that sweet baby boy opened his eyes and let out a good cry, showing us his lungs were working! He was going to be okay.
Hallelujah.

The Twins!

Our "sterile" shoes were a bit big for us.