more pictures

All of my pictures from the second half of the summer can be found here...
tinyurl.com/nigeriaround2

dimensions of darkness

I realized this week that I've seen, with prominence, a lot of the darkness that's in this world. Lots of emotional darkness, some physical darkness, and recently, spiritual darkness.

Emotional darkness...
The children that we come into contact here at the orphanages and in the village, have so obviously been victims of neglect and abuse. One of the kids that has completely broken my heart is new to the Catholic orphanage that we minister to. He looks like he is maybe 11 or 12, but it supposedly about 22. On the outside, he looks completely normal, but due to maybe some emotional impairments he is not able to speak and will rarely express any kind of emotion. I wave him over to play, he acknowledges me and then, very apathetically, will try to participate in whatever games I try to make work. I handed him a crayon to color with me last week and he had no idea what to do with it. We had a picture of Mickey Mouse to color. And all he would do was write the lowercase letter, "e" over and over. Maybe 40 times. So I grabbed a lined piece of paper and did the same as him, and started writing other letters on the paper. And him, just "e" again.
There's another little boy in the children's home that we've been ministering to more closely. I only know small chunks of his background, but those small chunks are unfathomable for a 9-year old boy to have been though. He has seen more hurt and felt more emotional and physical abuse than the majority of us will ever know in a lifetime. Although he has a small shell to break before he opens up, he is full of so much fun and joy. And it truly amazes me that we can still love and still be open to love after hurt like that. So when I think about the mute child at the Catholic orphanage who seems to have 10 foot thick and 100 foot high walls built up around his heart, I can't help but wonder what extent of abuse and neglect this kid must have been through. My heart breaks for him over and over. In Joel 1:4 there is an illustration of locusts representing all of the hurt and abuse and past scars that are in our lives, "What the cutting locust left, the swarming locust has eaten. What the swarming locust has left, the hopping locust has eaten, and what the hopping locust left, the destroying locust has eaten." These "locusts" in our lives are going to stack up, and feel like hopelessness and despair, but God has a plan to redeem these "locusts." In Joel 2:25 the Lord says, "I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter." We may or may not see that redemption during our life on earth, but God promises to restore and redeem, and that is a truth worth living for. For the child in the Catholic orphanage, we can know that the child will never again know the feeling of neglect when eternity comes if Jesus is his savior. I have to cling to the promise that the Lord will redeem all of his hurts. "I have come as a light into the world, that whoever believes in Me, should not abide in darkness." John 12:46

Physical darkness...
One of the other children in the Catholic orphanage, Claire, has been born blind, deaf, and with crippling multiple sclerosis. She is 7-years old but is no larger than a 4-year old. All of her days are spent laying down, and she is always with her own thoughts in complete physical darkness. We can hold her hands and rub her head to let her know that we are present. Sometimes, she starts crying for no apparent reason for just a few minutes before she calms herself again. I wonder what God's plan is for her and whether or not she will be able to choose or reject the Lord. I have so many questions with Claire. "For You will light my lamp; The Lord my God will enlighten my darkness." Psalm 18:28

Spiritual darkness...
On Monday we did an outreach to the Kisayhip A village. This was our second time visiting Kisayhip A, as we are usually in Kisayhip B. We were split into three groups and had beans, rice, and cooking oil for each family we visited. I got to learn and practice speaking Rukuba... it's actually not extensive at all. I can barely say "Good afternoon," "How are you?" "Come," and "Go." All of the children would accompany us to each hut and we would greet the family and tell them that we are with Back2Back Ministries and will soon be their neighbors as we are building the campus near them, and that we wanted to offer the food as a small gesture of Christ's love for them. And then we would ask if we could pray for them and for any specific prayer requests. Then we would pray with them, and move onto the next hut.
One of the men that helped to translate in my small group of four, was named Abraham, and he lived in the village. When we were finally approaching his home, we passed a shrine that sits just outside of his house. He told us that a man built the shrine to Satan and that he had come at night to use evil spirits and demons to ask for things and to curse people. The man died, but the shrine is still upkept by the man's grandchild--who is now in his 50s or so. The man that now upkeeps the shrine is Abraham's uncle. Abraham says that he has sleepless nights, every single night of his life because he is awoken by the demons in his head saying that they will kill him. Abraham is in the only Christian in the small area where he lives, which is inhabited by his uncle and other family members. Abraham said that one night he took his Bible to the shrine and started reading scripture as he picked up one of the clay pots in the shrine to destroy it when he heard a loud explosion. It frightened Abraham so he retreated into his room. (Abraham lives by himself as his Muslim wife left him years ago with his daughter.) That night, he heard more demons telling him that they will kill him. I stood with Abraham on his front porch when he retrieved his Bible. He said, "You know, this is what keeps me going. I have these promises. God is all that I need."
The other translator that was with us, Daniel, was outraged by the shrine and said that the shrine should be destroyed. A woman came by yelling and arguing with the translators. Daniel told me that the woman was filled with the devil. She kept telling Abraham that he had better not touch the shrine until his uncle returned. Daniel asked to speak to the uncle that upkeeps the shrine but the uncle wasn't around, so we continued handing out more food and prayers.
A few huts later, a man filled with fury and evil in his eyes stormed up to where we were. He was dressed in a grey, pin-striped suit and was honestly, the scariest thing I have ever seen. He was the uncle. He came at Abraham shaking his fist and yelling loudly that he was stupid for believing in Jesus and that the devil will kill Abraham and strike him down. Daniel held the uncle back. Abraham, lanky and weak, but filled with courage responded, "You cannot touch me because the Lord Jesus who died on Calvary has covered me with His blood." This only made the man angrier and he was lunging forward at Abraham; however, some village people were still holding him back. The whole time, all I could do was just pray "Lord, please keep us safe. Please take whatever evil is going on inside that man away." I looked at the group members that were with me and saw their lips form the words "Jesus, Lord Jesus" again and again with eyes wide. Abraham had a little bit of fear on his face, I thought he was very brave. The man did not touch him and eventually stormed off screaming and cursing Abraham. He kept telling him that "he will be taken care of like the others." Daniel said, "That man has many evil sprits overtaking him right now."
All I can do is pray for Abraham and pray that his light will change the heart of his family members. I am comforted though that if he is killed for his faith, he is with Jesus. Please keep him in your prayers and pray that he does not feel alone but rests in the truth that he has a Father that exists independent of our restrictions of time and science. And this Father has all of this figured out. "Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, 'I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.'" John 8:12

sai enjima... see you later

Today was our final goodbye to the CLAPAI kids as tomorrow they will be getting picked up by whatever family members they have left to go back to whatever home is available for the summer.

I didn't anticipate it to be this hard at all. I'm sure you all saw it coming, but I didn't. I'm pretty sure I never cried last year in Mexico. And I really, really did not want to tear up in front of the kids.

We spent all day with them today and yesterday. Today we played with them at their house for a bit, then ate lunch with them, and then got to take them to this awesome beadmaking class. All the kids were able to make necklaces and bracelets, and then we took them on a small vertical hike directly behind the place. Our drivers cranked up the music in our vans and we danced with the kids outside the beadmaking hut. All the kids were there, which was awesome as a few can be absent for one reason or another.

The little one that is living with AIDS was feeling energetic and full of life today, a huge improvement compared to his activity yesterday due to disease and retrovirals. Hugging him for the final time later in the night crushed me. The little 6-year old guy needs a miracle to fight longer... so prayers for him. I've never hugged a little child and have prayed so fervently for health with fear that his days to come are numbered and difficult to get through.

So after the beadmaking, the kids came over to our house and we had a fun little graduation party for them complete with grilled goat. Mmmm goat. While I was waiting for the guy to load my plate up, I asked, "What part is that, the ear? And is that the jaw?" Response: "No, that is the liver and that is the throat. Do you want?" (I passed on those specific parts.)

For our graduation party we handed out certificates congratulating them on another year of learning. As well as fun superlative certificates such as "Best Hugger" or "Kindest Heart" or "Best Red Rover Athlete" (that was a coveted one, seriously). It was a lot of fun clapping for the kids and seeing them take pride in themselves.

Saying goodbye was awful, terrible, and I hated it. I remembered right when the kids were heading out the door that Ryan had sent me a picture of Maryann and I to give to her on the last night. And I ran for my bag as they were saying goodbyes. I fumbled through about 20 dead pens (of course) to write a note on the back as the children were hugging my backside (as I was hunched over trying to write). So I was completely frazzled and freaked out that my hug goodbye to them would be them hugging my back. Anyway, I got the picture written on and stuffed it into my skirt.

I had tears welling up in my eyes just before when we prayed for the caregivers and I fought them back as best as I could. When I looked at little Cynthia once I got outside to give her a hug goodbye, I could see her eyes lined with tears and we held each other close for awhile. That broke me. So these factors... intense goodbyes (20 of them to be exact), the children all knowing they're returning to whatever broken home is available tomorrow, and us having our final goodbye after spending 2.5 mos with them. Just heartbreaking for me. The "tough" kids were the ones who had tears pouring down their faces the hardest, obviously having the most difficult time dealing with the sadness. For about 15 minutes it felt like complete chaos to me... 75% of the kids were already on the bus and I was trying to jump on to hug the few that slipped through amidst the tears and shuffling. The bus windows fogged up within a couple minutes and all of them were sobbing loudly and the bus driver telling them "it's okay, it's okay."

I'm sorry this isn't eloquent... just a blur of my thoughts and the events intertwining.

Just before Maryann hopped on the bus, I slipped the picture into her hands and she glanced at it quickly and slipped it into her inside jacket pocket. She knew what it was and had been expecting it and asking about it for the last couple of days. I told her that it was a secret because all the others wouldn't be getting one from me. I was happy to see that she understood based on her discreetness.

After they left and we cleaned, we had worship. The words about how vast and deep God's love is for us, I'm trying to reconcile with how much love and care for these kids I have. It's so sad to see them go and knowingly understand just a fraction of how bad their homelife is. It's sad that they have to return to that. But at the same time, I'm trying to deal with the fact that the love I have for them is a fraction of the love that the Father has for them. I'm trying to reconcile God's promise to shelter them in the same way He shelters me and trying to rid myself of leaning on my own understanding.

baby steps

This week with Cincinnati's Vineyard Community Church (VCC) has been amazing! They just got on their plane to head back home after the 7 days. But, we've gotten so much done in just a week. A couple of days were spent doing some construction for the new property to build outlines of where the buildings are planned to be built. One day was spent digging a water well with Self-Sustaining Enterprises (SSE).


The VCC team funded this dig. It was SSE's 50th water well dug and it will provide clean water for the Miango village, a village comprised of Christians that used to be Muslim. The conversion from Muslim to Christianity isn't seen as easy, as the families of the new converts are usually expected to shun them from the family permanently. So it was great to hear the testimonies of the people that comprise this newly formed village.

I spent a lot of time playing with the kids (surprise, surprise). All of the children in primary school (equivalent of our K-5th) haven't been in school for a month as the teachers have been on strike for a month. This isn't rare here at all. Many students don't graduate high school until their mid-20s because of all of the gaps in education due to unexpected strikes. I met a 15-year old girl named Christiana. I hung out with her and her little brother John pretty much all day. She told me that the teacher for her secondary school was running late... as it was 1:30 and school was supposed to start at 12:30. Walking by her classroom, or anywhere in any village here, REALLY made me understand and feel what it's like to be a minority. Conversations just stop and all eyes are on you. Children whisper to each other "Batore..." ("Look, a white person..."). She led me into her classroom where about 60 kids aged 12-20 were waiting for their teacher who was now an hour late. I asked her to show me some of the things that they were learning and she pulled out some small science and math books. As I flipped through her science book, she stopped at a page and asked me to teach something to her. It was a lesson about how flies can contaminate meat by landing, laying eggs, which produce more flies and disease. So I started to read and explain it and I couldn't help but stop and ask, "Are you SURE you do not know this?" as about 10 other children quickly gathered around to hear me read. She assured me that she had no idea and I continued to read. Shortly after, the teacher came in and proceeded to hand out exams, as they had their agricultural science exam today. The teacher welcomed me and gave me a copy. Christiana encouraged me to help her read the questions and answers aloud. I honestly had no idea about any of the answers. Everything on the test ranged from proper plowing techniques to definitions of different kinds of harvesting--no idea.

Outside, several hours later, the well digging machine had finally made it to a sufficient level and clean water was beginning to spew out of the top of the hole. Many Nigerians working for SSE were there dressed to impress--the men in suits and the women head-to-toe in the beautiful Nigerian prints. Later on, I received some Hausa lessons from Christiana in return for the science help. I now know how to say, "Where are you going?" "Are you tired?" "You are beautiful" and "What is your name?" in Hausa. The Nigerians crack up and think it is the funniest thing ever when I throw out my few memorized Hausa phrases. They respond in Hausa and ask me a question, but no matter what they say I usually end up replying with "Yowaaa" (meaning "Yeahhh... awesome") as I don't know how to say anything else... and the laughing continues.

But my favorite day this week, by far, was our medical outreach day on Friday at the Kisayhip village that Back2Back is closely ministering to. The need for medical attention was so great that we continued for half of the day on Saturday. Out of the 14-member Vineyard group, there was one nurse, one medical student, one nursing student, and one occupational therapy student. We had three Nigerian doctors there as well that volunteered their time for the outreach. The occupational therapy student was one of the three VCC group members that sat with translators and were at the "intake" station to understand and record the patients' information and medical needs. The nurse mainly directed the congested traffic going on inside our small little tents and also filled in the gaps whenever a lunch break was needed. The medical student also floated between the intake of patients and the pharmacy area. The nursing student spent about 10 minutes beforehand teaching me how to take vitals alongside her (temperature, blood pressure, pulse, and respiration). The nursing student and I saw about 80-90 patients each between the two days. My ears are still sore from having a stethoscope in them for 6 hours on Friday and 3 hours on Saturday. But honestly, the time spent doing vitals was so amazing and so worth it. That was my first time taking blood pressure outside of physiology class a year ago, and I was sooo nervous to start. But once I had a couple patients, I felt like I got the hang of it real quick.


Although I'm not qualified at all, it was incredible to take the arms of the frailest, skinniest elderly women that I have ever seen and provide them with some sort of healthcare. But, I'd have to say that the time spent with the children and babies were my favorite. This was probably because I knew many of them from church and playing in the village for the last two months. So it was awesome to see the kids that I've been having fun with as my patients. And then I meet the adults, and can see their children and other family members in their faces--it's really cool to be able to mentally recognize the extended families by facial features.

I really admire the women that I see on Sunday at the village church in the choir that bang on the drums and sing at the top of their lungs all for the Lord. So that was great to be able to tell them that I enjoy seeing them at church and playing with their kids. They are so appreciative of the time that we spend here, however, are astonished that most of us will be leaving in a few weeks. "We appreciate and thank you so much for being here. Why you must return home??"

Many of my patients would have an infant on their lap and then 2 or 3 or 4 more kids all under the age of six at their sides; and all patiently waiting to be seen by me in my one small chair. I found that the easiest method for these situations was to just treat mom first so the kids could see that nothing hurts. Then, grab one of the kids and put them on my lap, give them a sucker, then proceed with everything I need to do. The babies were such a hit or miss for me though. Either they were passed out and bundled up so tightly in their clothes making it impossible to get a temperature in under 5 minutes; or, they are crying their eyes out terrified by our white skin or the idea that I'm wanting to hold their tiny wrist for 60 seconds. One baby made my day though when anyone so much as touched him, he let out a giant, hearty laugh. He was 6-mos. and would throw his head back and squeeze his eyes shut and would just crack up.

Over the course of 1.5 days we were able to see over 200 patients and provide medical treatment. The hardest part was cutting off the outreach. More and more people would come as they would hear about the treatment and would walk from their village all day just to be seen by a doctor. The number of individuals was unending and seemingly impossible. I'm praying that God allowed the people that needed the medicine and treatment to make it there. It's hard to see the fruit of the labor when the impact seems so minuscule, but I have to cling to the promise that serving the few is beneficial. It's so true that meeting the physical needs lays a foundation for meeting the spiritual needs. As God goes after the one (Luke 15:8-10; Matt. 18:12-14), I think He finds joy when we do too.

Meet Maryann

This beautiful 8-year old girl has stolen my heart. Society would deem her circumstances worthy of a life filled with anger, bitterness, and sorrow, but none of these words come close to describing little Maryann. The picture below was taken on the first day we met.



Her mother died of HIV/AIDS when Maryann was just a baby. She had her father left, until a few months ago when he, too, passed. I see Christ in Maryann with every day I spend with her. She is like a giant ball of joy and energy. It's sooo easy for us to live without joy and thankfulness when we are daily experiencing the condemnation, trials, and brokenness found effortlessly in this world. I am learning that authentic, unshakable joy comes from these troubling times and situations.



From Andrew Murray's "Abide in Christ":
[Many Christians'] view of the Christian life is that it is a succession of changes, now joy and now sorrow. And they appeal to the experiences of a man like the Apostle Paul, as a proof of how much there may be of weeping, and sorrow, and suffering. They have not noticed how just Paul gives the strongest evidence as to this unceasing joy. He understood the paradox of the Christian life as the combination at one and the same moment of all the bitterness of earth and all the joy of heaven. "As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing": these precious golden words teach us how the joy of Christ can overrule the sorrow of the world, can make us sing while we weep, and can maintain in the heart, even when cast down by disappointment or difficulties, a deep consciousness of a joy that is unspeakable and full of glory. There is but one condition: "I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy shall no man take from you." The presence of Jesus, distinctly manifested, cannot but give joy.



Precious Maryann is full of so much spunk and life. Her giggles are unending and are absolutely contagious. I rarely see her without her huge grin plastered across her face.



One of the few times that I have seen Maryann serious and intense was when we were hiking one afternoon. And she says to me with a solemn and worried expression, "Auntie, let me carry your bag." This isn't uncommon as the kids are constantly trying to help us out by carrying our stuff even though they realize our bags are half the weight of themselves. My bag was pretty heavy as it was filled with food for lunch, camera, and two full water bottles. So I said to her, "Thank you, but I will carry it, it is very heavy today." She wasn't going to accept that as she looked very stern and said, "Auntie please give me your bag, I want to carry it for you." Knowing I couldn't change her mind, I handed her my backpack. As she added the weight onto her tiny, little frame, her trademark grin was across her face again.

first half

I was able to get a good amount of pictures on facebook.
Go here to view them if you don't have facebook: http://tinyurl.com/nigeriaround1

"I am the vine, you are the branches"

Yesterday was my day at Evangel hospital. I guess I should give some background about why I went. Another intern here, Mark, has been interning with me at Back2Back but has been spending the last couple weeks in Evangel watching and occasionally helping as he is in his second year of medical school. For half of my undergrad, I pursued nursing and was close to having all my prerequisites done when my heart tugged for social work (short version of the story). After I finish my social work degree next May, I'm still interested in possibly doing the accelerated nursing program at community college mainly for the ability to take that into any city or country. So Mark asked if I would be able to tag along too for the day, and next thing I know I'm leaving at 7am for a full day at the hospital.


I had toured Evangel a week or so ago very briefly, so I was already slightly familiar with Evangel. We began in the doctor/resident meeting (as they start with every single morning). There are a couple actual doctors but most of them are all residents and chief residents (residents that opted for an extra year, very respectable position). It’s basically an update on the new patients that came in since the last day as well as any mortalities that happened overnight. A good portion of the patients are drawn from RTA’s or road transportation accidents. Since everyone pretty much rides motorcycles everywhere (they are taxis), there are TONS of motorcycle accidents. Lots of broken leg bones from RTA's. Other new patients included those with ovarian problems, cerebral malaria… to mention a few. A couple babies died last night--one of heart failure and another resulting in poorly developed lungs. Today I learned that Nigeria has the highest infant mortality rate (1 in 7 die) and highest maternal mortality (1 in 10 pregnant women die) rate in the world. That’s incredible for me to fathom, as I flashback to my Intro to Soc. class where we were handed packets with information on every single country in the world and their mortality rates, economic status, industrialization, etc. So in the meeting I listened to all 20 or so in the room talk about each case. One woman in particular they spent about 20 minutes brainstorming how in the world she has an ovary in the wrong place in her body. It was really neat for me to see the teamwork and deep patient interest in the hospital.

The first part of the day we went into the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) where four teeny, tiny 3-lb. babies were—each in their own little fish tank-sized incubator with oxygen and IVs. I’ve never seen babies that small before up close, it left me awestruck seeing their short, quick little breaths. It truly is amazing that God is able to sustain such tiny and intricate babies. And it’s equally incredible that they have the ability to be our size one day.


Next we followed a few doctors/residents on their rounds. We went into the maternity ward, where most of the five women who had just been in labor the day before, now had five very healthy babies. "You are welcome" is the resounding phrase heard in the room, encouraging us to enter. One of the residents handed me a bundle just under a day old—sooo precious and amazing. I told all of the women that their babies were very beautiful and it was apparent they were very proud of their babies. The mother to baby bond is so beautiful. I think I’m much more appreciative of the victory that both mother and child are living and healthy. I'm left in awe of the fact that women here go through so much pain in birthing, the aftermath of birthing, and knowingly chance the alarming mortality rate for the sake of life.


There are mostly wards containing 15 or so patients per room at Evangel, and there are a few private and semi-private rooms but are more costly. One patient in a private room we visited was an older woman who had been having chronic diarrhea. Nigeria also has a super low life expectancy, so the fact that she looked well over 80 was in itself amazing. She evidently has cancer in multiple places (can’t remember which) and her family has chosen not to tell her so that she may die in less fear and worry. I hear that it's a common and respectable thing to do to protect the emotional wellness of the elder.


The woman in the next private room I heard had a hysterectomy (I did not go in) and had her uterus was lying in a bedpan beside her—yep, serious. Unfortunately, it is not uncommon for “phantom surgeries” to occur where a woman goes to a hospital and is told that she has received a surgery, but instead the doctors just make an incision and stitch it back up and tell them that it’s taken care of. So the uterus in the bedpan is pretty much proof that the operation happened. The woman is also HIV+ so it’s strange to me that her bloody uterus would be just lying next to her in her room.


In one larger room, we visited a couple women whose C-sections were stitched up a day prior. Both women lost their babies during labor but still needed to stay for rountine check-up on the healing. Keep in mind that all wound cleaning, wiping, etc. is done without any anesthetic so a lot of screams and mourns are heard all the while.

An OB/GYN doctor that is here from Fort Collins, Colorado, super sweet guy… walked Mark and I to a ministry called Faith Alive a few blocks over. Faith Alive is a hospital, laboratory, school, and counseling center for HIV+/AIDS victims. Once we arrived we met a few others from their group (all from Colorado) then followed a Nigerian counselor, Simon, to his office for an opportunity to sit-in on any HIV therapy sessions. I was super excited about potential counseling and therapy for the sake of great social work experience, especially because I have been interested in HIV/AIDS awareness since I was a kid.


Simon's open hours are from 9am-4pm and yesterday he had 3 patients… all day. So the odds were stacked up against us at the start. A husband and wife came briefly, they had been both living with HIV for three years and had to come in for a routine CD4 count (amount of T-cells your body still has). Another man also came in for a CD4 count a bit later. He is a first year medical student and just found out that he is HIV+. He comes from a reputable family and travelled 8 hours to Faith Alive just to avoid anyone finding out about it. In order for patients to start counseling at Faith Alive, they have to confide in someone, either a close friend or family, that they are HIV+. So he won’t start until he decides to tell someone. He is afraid that because of his family’s status and the stigma of HIV/AIDS that he will be shunned from his family. Simon said that they have seen over 5,000 patients living with HIV since the start of Faith Alive. The time spent there mainly included Simon answering my million questions about the entire counseling process and their resources provided. He also let me read through the educational information they use to train their staff on HIV/AIDS. The myths about HIV/AIDS are absolutely crazy--it’s not uncommon for many villages to believe that the way to cure the disease is to sleep with a virgin.


Faith Alive’s primary mission is to promote healthy and productive living while having the disease. They discourage finding the source of the disease as all it usually accomplishes is blame shifting, many times blaming the wrong individuals or circumstances. Instead, they promote healthy diets, counseling for coming to terms with the disease, and a variety of vocational training to allow them to be productive members of society (cosmetology, computers, seamstressing, etc.). So after Mark and I had been sitting with Simon for over an hour we decided to head back to Evangel as no patients were coming in for therapy.


We changed into scrubs and went right into surgery. (The operation room is about three feet to the right after walking in the front door, it is literally possible for anyone to enter.) I think my “picture of the day” was probably the first thing that my eyes saw after entering the OR. A 14-year old girl was lying on a table, wide awake, and looking around while a resident and nurse held up her stub of a left leg and were in the middle of suturing the amputated leg—she was under an epidural anesthesia. They were suturing her up and all I wanted to do was hold her hand, but I wasn’t sure if I could touch her, so I instead pulled off my mask and shot her a smile. She returned with a slight grin.

We then went into the room over—there are three connected operating rooms total—where we observed a VVF (vaginal vasicular fistula). The VVF procedure is super common here for one reason or another. The vagina is torn, so the woman had no control of when she urinates as the tear was right before the sphincter (muscle to regulate urine control). It’s just a random drip of urine that comes out through the vagina. (As you can imagine that can cause a lot of problems, in addition to the cultural stigma of always smelling like urine.) I watched with a few other nursing students, as two doctors cut and prodded with many sharp tools—I’ll spare details. Just know that neither I nor Mark, who is in his 2nd year of medical school, could really identify much because it was such a mess. That operation took probably about 3 hours. All the while, the woman was completely awake but under an epidural anesthesia.


I learned that Friday at Evangel is the day for swapping out bandages from wounds/surgeries. Patients grit their teeth and let out agonizing screams as the residents wipe away at their healing sores. The craziest wound I saw was of a man that was robbed and his assailants had shot him with a shotgun through his thigh. It barely missed the fibula bone so he pretty much has a giant hole going through the lower of the thigh. The body is absolutely amazing in regards to how quickly it begins healing itself. The middle part of his leg was already healing quite rapidly and the hole had turned into two potholes instead.


Another surgery we watched was the removal of a lipoma (fatty tumor) just bigger than a half dollar above the patient’s eyebrow. He was given a local anesthetic, but was of course awake during the entire thing. The entire time I was praying that the man did not understand English because of the conversation that the residents were having among us and each other. “Do it how?” “Like that?” “Oops, sorry” At one point they asked Mark if he wanted to try suturing his wound closed after the lipoma was removed. “Do you want to try?” “Uh, no, I’d rather not.” “You’re right, you should probably practice on an arm or leg or something before practicing on the head.” At first glance it would appear that the surgery was reckless and archaic, but I am understanding that trial and error is moreso the approach to medicinal learning in a third-world country rather the luxury of extensive training with cadavers in the States. The guy took the entire operation like a champ, though you could definitely tell when the anesthesia was wearing off.

One thing that really took me by surprise was the fact that many of the patients that were going to have surgery next were wheeled into the big surgery room and could witness all of the surgeries from wherever they were sitting or lying. I don't know about you, but I think I would start wheeling myself out of there just out of the anxiety of the anticipation. All of the operations are super cheap though compared to the States… I asked a doctor how much a leg amputation would be and he pulled out his materials and procedure cost list and told me 3,000 Naira which is equal to about $20 right now. Keep in mind they have no social security, insurance, etc. A colonoscopy was about $15/$20. When I told the doctor how much it would be in the States without health insurance he said, “Well, you Americans can afford that price.”

We spent most of the day in surgery, then saw about a dozen women in labor rooms. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see any births. But I did get to see a few sonograms in action: one of a healthy baby, one of a not-so-healthy baby, and one of an empty uterus. I think that covers most of the day. I wanted this to be a thorough update so you could somewhat have an idea of what this day was for me. But unfortunately this has been a very surface levely type of blog entry.


What I realized from the day and what I hope you can realize from reading this is that amidst the tough and seemingly unfair circumstances endured for medical treatment in most parts of the country, God has not lost control and still receives glory in every outcome, whether successful or unsuccessful. It is our job to be good stewards of the time, money, gifts, and relationships that He has given us--that's where the good is found, in our infinite opportunities to be vessels for God's glory.

free time

What we do in our free time...

• HIKE!
  

We spend a lot of time hiking since we are surrounded by so much beauty wherever we go in Nigeria! Pictures below are from a day where we went to a high, flat point in the boulder climbing to do some worship and check out the giant new Back2Back property. First one is of Sarah Guckenberger and I, then an intern Amanda and I, and then Amanda, Tina, and I... sadly the two of them are returning home tomorrow );

• SWIM!
  

We've actually only gone swimming all of two times during the last five weeks that we've been here. Because there's really not many pools and the cultural need for modesty, we're all pretty pale as opposed to what you think we would look like after living here. Well, our arms are nice and brown--but that's about it. Pictures below are from a day we spent at a very nice hotel we found in Jos. The first one is of the pool patio, then staff kids Sami Guckenberger and Noah Ramos, and then me with some Guckenbergers, Noah, and Amanda.

• KILL CHICKENS!
  

It has been a long talked about aspiration here to kill and cook our own chickens for dinner. The kids had a lot of fun chasing them around the yard before the deed was done the other day. We ended up donating the chickens after the slaughter, but it was definitely a first. I'm really not as adventurous as it may seem... I watched long enough to take a "before" picture with the knife and the chicken, but then hid in my room until it was all over. I tell myself if I really needed to do it to provide, I would have done it.

Shelter Day 1--A First Look

I'm going to start posting the "Shelter" study that all of the groups in Mexico and Nigeria are going through. I'd love to dialogue or hear your thoughts on Psalm 91 as we continue to understand the idea of "dwelling in the shelter of the Most High." Enjoy!




The theme that we are exploring together this year is that of “Shelter.” Now immediately upon reading that word “Shelter,” chances are ideas come to you mind. Let’s start with some questions:
• How would you define the word “Shelter”?
• In what ways do you think God provides you shelter?
• In what ways do you think you provide shelter for others?

Did you know?
• ½ of the world’s population lives on less than $2 a day;
• 26,500-30,000 children die everyday due to poverty;
• Nearly a billion people entered the 21st century unable to read a book or sign their names;
• In 2005, approximately 1 billion people were living in slum conditions.

Their upcoming week, you are going to have the opportunity to serve in several children’s homes and impoverished neighborhoods around the city of Monterrey or Jos that reflect the reality of these statistics.
Imagine if your family, and everyone you loved, woke up one morning in one of these slums around the world. How would that affect your above definition of God’s shelter?
Oftentimes, we associate God’s shelter with the material provisions He gives us. Yet, all men are created equal, and God provides shelter to all human beings regardless of race, class, or country of origin.
Therefore, how would God define His shelter to us? How does God want us to experience His shelter? Where do we find God’s shelter?
Read Job chapters 1 and 2 (Old Testament, 18th book of the Bible). What was Job’s response when the Lord allowed everything in his life to come crashing down (Job 2:9-10)?
Job understood that true shelter in God is not found in family, possessions, or wealth, and he refused to curse Him when his fortune was reversed. Are we to praise God when things go well and curse Him when they do not? Job found his shelter in the Lord, not in what the Lord provided him.
We oftentimes think that the Lord provides shelter through our families, the houses we live in, and the comfort we are fortunate enough to have. But as Job shows us, true shelter is found by resting in the promises of the Lord.

“Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, He is my fortress, I will not be shaken.” Psalm 62:5-6

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 28:11

God gives His promises to all people, that if we find shelter in Him, He will give us rest. God provides the same shelter to the 1 billion people living in slum villages as he does to you and me. Christ came to earth to sacrifice for all people. Everyone, regardless of wealth, race, or country of residence can find comfort and rest in His promises.



Reflection Questions:
How can you show this kind of Shelter as you serve those financially less fortunate than you?

How have we been called to provide shelter to others (Matthew 25:31-46)?

How does the Bible describe pure religion (James 1:27)?

When you visit the children’s homes and impoverished neighborhoods this week, how can you provide shelter and fulfill the verses above?

How can you allow God to provide more shelter in your own life?

Assignment:
Rethink the first three questions asked at the top of the beginning of today’s study. How have your answers changed?

Read through the rest of Job throughout the week and reflect on the idea of God’s shelter.

Remember, you are not here to save, but to serve. Reflect and journal on the promises of God, knowing that as you serve, you will in fact gain a better understanding of what it means to rest in the shelter of the Lord.

snaps

"Snap me! Snap me!" "Auntie Sara, will you snap us?" Nigerians call pictures "snaps." Here's a collection of a bunch that I've taken over the last couple weeks at the children's homes and at the Kisayhip village. I will try to be more regular about adding pictures! Enjoy and breathe in Nigeria!


"Preach the gospel at all times, if necessary use words."


Big sister at 7 years old carries around her younger brother all day at the Kisayhip village.


Two children that I adore at CLAPAI children's home, holding on tight!


The staff and intern women of Back2Back Nigeria for summer 2009.


Two gorgeous siblings at the Kisayhip village.


Andrew and Sheena from our first group from the states, with a couple kids from the Kisayhip village.

This is probably my favorite picture that I've taken here as it's such a typical Nigerian woman with baby on back, head-to-toe in the beautiful Nigerian tapestries.


The staff children walking with some kids at the Kisayhip village.


I'm pretty sure we were the first white people that these kids at the village have seen and also, the first camera.


Pretty girl throwing up the peace sign in the Kisayhip village.


One of the staff women and I at the OLA orphanage.


At our first outreach and meeting of the children of the Kisayhip village.


The Oasis home--future home of the CLAPAI children's home--from the top of the boulders on the new Back2Back property.


Marybeth from our first group from the states thoroughly intriguing the kids.


Marybeth with more of the Kisayhip kids.


In front of the Oasis home with my girl Maryam, one of the girls from the surrounding village.


Just under 2 mos. old and found in a gutter, Mary Margaret is one of the new additions to the OLA orphanage.


Lois, another kid that lives in the village.


Patiently waiting in line for suckers being handed out.


So full of life in the village.


Some women that we shared food and prayer with in the Kisayhip village.


Playing with the camera in the village.


More girls from the village.


"Bah-ture-ay!" or "Look! A white person!"


More kids at the village.


At the boulders overlooking the new Back2Back property with a village kid.


Cute kids at the village.


Fumi, one of the children living at the OLA orphanage.


Dancers from our celebration night with the CLAPAI kids.


One of the traditional African dancers at our celebration night.


Cute kid in the village.


Another adorable face in the village.


Amidst the celebration night dancing with one of the CLAPAI girls.


Staff kid, Caleb, with his first caught lizard.


The day I got to witness 100 children playing with and seeing bubbles for the first time.


Helpful big sister carrying the little one.


In the boulders overlooking the B2B property.


More snaps in the village.


Beautiful Abigail from the village.


Abigail fascinated by the white person hair during our bench building.