The Hardest Words to Say...

It is now Saturday Mar.21st here in Mororgoro and I have attempted to write this entry for close to three days. I have three drafts, none of which convey all that is in my heart. I pray now that the Lord will give me the words which, today, I find so incredibly hard to write...
Last Friday night on Mar.13th, I was laying on Riikka's bed visiting with her when my phone rang. When I saw that the caller was my mom, it was then that I remembered that I had actually talked to her when I was sick in the hospital with malaria. The only thing was that I didn't tell her that I was in the hospital nor did I mention the malaria. My mom has a tendency to worry and so I thought it best to wait until I was at least back at the school. I figured on Friday she was calling again to check up on me, but it was not to be. The voice that I found at the other end of the line was that of my brother. I knew when he said my name that he was choking back tears and that something was terribly wrong. Brett then proceeded to deliver the sad news that our dad had died. I don't know if I can really describe all that I felt in that moment. I don't even really remember what I said to him. I just remember hanging up crying and telling Riikka. She held me as lay stunned and in shock at the news of my fathers passing. It was then I had the thoughts of: "Was there anything that I wish I had told my daddy that I didn't get to? Did he know how much I loved him? Was there anything that went unresolved between us?" and so on. The amazing thing was the way that the Lord brought back every moment with my dad from the last 3 years since I planned to come to Africa. As I lay there on Riikka's bed the Lord's peace descended upon me and I knew that there was not one thing that had not gone unsaid or undone. The Lord in His providential wisdom and care had placed it in my heart to get everything said and done before I left the states for He knew the future far better than I.
In deciding to come to Africa as a missionary the biggest thing that I wrestled with was not being home if one of my parents were to pass away. The thought of it seemed, at many times during those three years of fund raising, to be almost unbearable and I cried many tears in the states just coming to terms with the possibility of it. I slowly came to accept the fact that it was indeed a possibility and knew that the Lord would take care of us no matter what. But the one thing that I had never contended with was the possibility of missing my own fathers funeral.
Malaria is a cruel parasite in the way that it destroys the red blood cells that carry oxygen in your body. Even after the initial infection has passed it can leave your body greatly weakened and take days to weeks to recover. I remember asking Riikka on Friday night, " How will I be able to make a twenty hour flight back to home in Texas when I haven't even walked any further than the fifteen yards to your door since I got back from the hospital?" By Saturday evening it was apparent to me that I would not be making the journey home to bury my dad no matter how much I wanted to go. My body was simply not strong enough.
In the hours and days before my dad was to be buried on Tuesday, the Lord once again revealed His incredible kindness to me in the very people who had, and are caring for me as I recover from malaria. There were many hugs, sympathies and tears that were shed over the loss of my father. On Monday after the morning classes Riikka, Paulette, and Mikyong came to visit me and see if I felt like eating lunch. I didn't think this was unusual as they are always checking on me around this time. What I did find most surprising was the out flowing of love, tears and empathy that came from each of them for my loss. How amazing it is when someone cares for you enough to take your burden as their own. We sat, the four of us, on my bed for sometime all wrapped in each others arms. It was one of those sacred moments when words are surpassed and that in the depths of the spirit "deep calls unto deep" to express all that is locked within the recesses of the heart. (Ps. 42:7)
I have, do and will miss my dad. I will miss his wonderful humor and hearing him laugh to the point of tears. Even during his last years of illness with Alzheimer's, COPD and asthma I don't think that there were many days that he didn't laugh at least once during the day. He would sit and recall a funny story or joke and he would laugh so hard that you would swear it was the first time he had ever heard it. My dad was a good man. He worked hard and provided for his family well. When he was younger and healthy, I really don't ever remember him missing a day of work due to illness. I know that there must of been times when he was sick, but he got up day after day, week after week, and year after year to work in a large building that was freezing in the winter and an oven in the summer. All this he did without complaint for 20+ years. I remember my dad telling me even as a child that he and mom just wanted to give us all the things that they had never grown up with. Both he and my mom succeeded in their goal as my brother and I could hardly ever want for anything. To be honest I grew up quite spoiled. We definitely had everything we needed and almost everything I ever wanted.
It has now been eight days since my father passed away and four days since his funeral in the states. As I write these words I know they are true, but yet my heart cant truly begin to comprehend the magnitude of his loss. I have, am and will continue to grieve his passing and the fact that due to my slow recovery from malaria, had to miss his funeral. It has been such a strange feeling to be so cut off and isolated from grieving with those who knew and loved my dad too. But in all these things I give the Lord praise and thanks. I will never know or understand all the "why's" that I have had bubbling around in my head for days, but the Bible reminds me that I don't have to. God doesn't ask us to understand. In fact, He tells us in the Psalms that our ways are not His ways and that His ways are so much higher than our ways. God simply calls me to trust and believe in Him. And that is where I am and have chosen to remain. Trusting Him to comfort my family and believing that above all GOD IS GOOD. It is His amazing strength that has seen us all through my fathers passing and it is the hope that we will see my dad one day in heaven again that brings joy and comfort in the darkest of moments.
Thank you all for all of your prayers, emails,hugs and consoling words over these last eight days. They have brought me more comfort and strength than you will ever know. I am continuing to recover well here at language school in Morogoro and will even resume my Swahili studies on Monday. Everyday I feel a little stronger and know that I will be back to full speed in time. May the Lord bless you richly for every kindness that was shown me here in East Africa and to my family in Texas. You have blessed us more than we could ever express in words. Thank you...

Memoirs of Morogoro

I arrived here at school the first week of February, for an intensive 4 month course in Swahili, along with approx. 10 other students. Two of my classmates also have medical backgrounds: Riikka is a midwife from Finland, and Carina is a surgeon from Germany. Since the second or third week of school, the Swahili has been the least of our worries. First Scott, my drill mate from England contracted malaria and came very close to dying. Apparently the malaria parasite, which is spread through infected mosquitoes, multiplies very quickly in the body and wreaks havoc in the red blood cells. Scott was tested for malaria three times before his test finally showed up positive. What he had to go though I would not ever wish upon anyone on this earth. He suffered greatly with vomiting and diarrhea that left him devastated and weak for days. Thanks to many prayers that were offered on his behalf and the tireless energies of Riikka, Carina, and Josh (another student here and one of Scott's best friends) Scott has now fully recovered and has gone on to Moshi, TZ to work there with young people. The next case for the "medical team", as we are now lovingly called, was to be a young woman who suffered a miscarriage one Saturday morning. As I was walking to breakfast that morning I saw her husband as he was carrying food back to their room. I ask him if he was treating Gina to breakfast in bed, and then he told me what he thought had happened and that she was bleeding heavily. I quickly gathered the team and we went to see her. How thankful I am that the Lord in His goodness and wisdom sent Riikka and Carina to be here with me! It was really quite amazing the way that we all worked together. We all knew the gravity of the situation and that something had to be done immediately lest Gina bleed to death. After starting an IV we transported her into town and after some time the doctors finally did an ultrasound to determine if she had retained tissue in her uterus....she did. Retained tissue meant that the bleeding would not stop on its own and that she would need to have surgical intervention with a D&C. The next obstacle was that the nearest hospital that could do the procedure was 3.5 hours away in Dar es Salaam. Armed with multiple IV bags and towels we set out for Dar. The Lord was surely with us as I drove and prayed. By late Saturday night Gina had the D&C and the bleeding finally stopped. Her hemoglobin dropped so low, it is estimated that she lost almost half of her blood volume. Weeks after the incident Gina is now feeling good and attending class with no problems.
Malaria is a strange beast for sure. While it wreaks havoc upon one person's GI system, for another it may come on as a slight headache or general complaints of "just not feeling well." So it was to be for its next victim. She began the first week of March with a general complaint of a constant mild headache, but really didn't think too much of it since she wasn't having any of the other symptoms of malaria which include: fever, chills and GI issues. By Saturday night the pain in her head was so severe that Riikka and another friend, Mikyong, a student from Korea threw her into Riikka's vehicle and set off to have a malaria test. Malaria is a cruel parasite, but the treatment for it is almost as bad. Once doctors found her positive for malaria, a IV was started and a IV drip with Quinine was started. Quinine is hard on the body as it sucks up all the available glucose in the body. This leaves the patient in a state of constant hypoglycemia unless juices, and anything with sugar is ingested. Another side effect of Quinine is that it brings on tinnitus in the ears, which results in a temporary deafness. After being in the hospital for nearly 4 days she was discharged and sent back to school to recover under the watchful eye of her classmates.
I don't really remember too much about those days in the hospital or even going to the hospital, but what I do remember is the love and care that was shown me during during those days. Riikka and Mikyong spent the night with me in the hospital that first night and hardly, if ever let go of my hand. This act of selfless act of love occurred in a hospital ward with 2 malaria patients and a room full of mosquitoes. The second night Riikka stayed with me and we ended up sharing my hospital bed together when a young mom asked Riikka for the bed she was sleeping in. Riikka hardly slept for 3 days while caring for me. While in the hospital and during my recovery back at the school I have wanted for nothing. My friends here brought me food and juice in the hospital and would have gone to the moon to bring me anything else I would of wanted for. At school they have tirelessly served me bringing all my meals to my room and visiting me frequently throughout the day. I have truly seen the beautiful body of Christ in action selflessly serving and caring for one of Her own, and I am humbled beyond words to be the recipient of such extravagant love and concern.
It has now been nine days since I was released from the hospital and I am still on the road to recovery. The malaria has left me weaker than I think I have ever been in my life. For four days the farthest I journeyed outside my room was to the toilet. I must confess that all of this has been such a new experience for me, for I had never known what it was to be truly physically weak. I guess I thought that weakness could always be overcome by an act of the will. How wrong I was! I have slept and rested more in the last two weeks than I have in the last two years, but little by little my strength is returning.
In closing this entry I would be remiss if I did not take time to mention a few of my friends here who have faithfully attended me:
.....To Riikka, thank you for watching over and caring for me throughout this whole ordeal. Your selfless sacrifice of love, compassion, time and care is an example to us all. I am blessed to call you my friend...
.....To Mikyong, thank you for being there when I needed you the most. Your joy and laughter has been medicine for my soul.
.....To Carina, thank you for staying with me in the hospital as well and for being the one doctor I truly trusted here. I'm not sure what I would of done without you.
.....To Josh, my faithful American brother! Thank you for the days you stayed in my room the entire day to watch over me, and for being my knight in shining armour holding my arm every time I walk the marathon to the cafeteria!
.....To Paulette (whom I have loving nicknamed "Saint Paulette") Thank you for the marathons you have walked day after day bringing me food, water, treats, tea, hugs, and whatever else my heart desired. I am in awe of your energy to serve others and even more in awe at the size of your incredible servants heart. You have blessed and honored me more than you will ever know.
.....Father Sandro (my favorite Italian Catholic Priest) Thanks for all the visits in the hospital and for being so instrumental in my escape from there. Also thanks for "the lift" you gave me from the cafeteria! I hope your hernia heals soon!
.....To my Lord & Savior, Jesus, Thank You for the way that You have so faithfully loved and preserved me through all of this. I have truly seen Your magnificent display of love and care through all that you placed around me here from the women in the cafeteria who brought me fresh squeezed juice everyday to those who bathed me at my weakest. You and You alone, are truly good and I have been an eyewitness of your love and compassion in action through Your body here. I have only been made more steadfast in my calling to love and serve You here. You are my rock and my fortress and I love the way You love me. Thank You Lord...
( Side note......Carina, Mikyong and Riikka all came down with malaria too, but thankfully it was caught relatively early and they were able to be treated with meds and are recovering at the school also.)