So tonight I am doing my laundry and making a last minute check-list of things to do: I must change my extra West Africa CFA back to U.S. dollars. From blue, purple, green and red back into dull green dollars. I need to pack up a box or two to leave behind and pray over, that it will not have turned to moldy remnants by time I return in six months. I need to say goodbye to lots of good, beautiful people. I will get to say hello again to many of them in Sierra Leone. Sierra Leone or heaven, I suppose. I need to charge my ipod for the journey, get a few photos from friends.
About Me
- Anna
- I am here in Togo living and working as a pediatric nurse on the Africa Mercy. We'll be here until the middle of August providing free surgeries for the people of Togo.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
"Miado go" - we shall meet again (I hope)
So tonight I am doing my laundry and making a last minute check-list of things to do: I must change my extra West Africa CFA back to U.S. dollars. From blue, purple, green and red back into dull green dollars. I need to pack up a box or two to leave behind and pray over, that it will not have turned to moldy remnants by time I return in six months. I need to say goodbye to lots of good, beautiful people. I will get to say hello again to many of them in Sierra Leone. Sierra Leone or heaven, I suppose. I need to charge my ipod for the journey, get a few photos from friends.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
The Goings-On down on Deck Three
Friday, May 14, 2010
"So neither he who plants, nor he who waters is anything, but only God who makes things grow." I Corinthians 3:7
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
"There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells." Ps. 46:4
Monday, April 12, 2010
"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." II Corinthians 4:18
I tried to memorize this passage once:
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Ready or not, here comes Jesus
This weekend I travelled north a few hours to Kpalime and hiked up the tallest “mountain” in Togo, topping out at 3,234 feet. Along the hike there are several villages. We stopped at one to rest and could hear Sunday singing close by. Then my friend says, “Oh, here comes Jesus.” And I look, and there he is, on a little cross, coming up the stairs into view. “Oh, you’re not kidding,” I say as we watch a boy and then a whole procession of singing, palm-leaf-waving children come into view.
There is lots of Jesus here. He keeps surprising me at times when I am –like on our hike –just sitting there. On this boat, sometimes I find myself looking around and thinking, “what a strange boat this is; how crazy that all these people come and live on this boat; where did this ridiculous idea come from?” We have a whole village living on a ship. And if you aren't on the hospital deck or out with a field team you might be confused and wonder if maybe this is a long-distance ferry or a low-budget cruise ship stalled at port. But then you will see something, or hear a story that will strike you as if you were just sitting under a tree on a hillside and suddenly Jesus is there walking up the hill towards you.
The people I talk to here say things similar to how I feel: somewhat unsure about this big, strange ship, but certain that God has told them to come here. Yesterday a baby died on the boat. Some of the nurses knew her from Benin. She was tiny then and they were trying to get her feeding better. This year she came again and she was still too tiny and sickly. It is the second baby this mother has lost. She is four months pregnant now. Pray with us that this third baby will be healthy. We come here to heal and we had to watch a baby die. We had to give up and say, "Jesus, come and be a comforter." We have not been able to bring healing, but Jesus would you reveal yourself here, would you visit this mother and weep with her as we do. They are used to children dying here; it's nothing new. I find myself wondering if maybe it is a greater thing for this mother that a whole ship of people from foreign lands would mourn for her loss than it would be if we could have saved her child.
I remember another mother who brought her son. She had taken him to an orphanage because he had a cleft lip and the villagers told her he was cursed, that she shouldn't keep him. But she took him back and brought him here and by the time he was ready to go home she had decided to keep him. I would like to see Jesus here on this ship doing miraculous healings; he could have brought back the heart-beat of the baby that died. But perhaps it is of more lasting significance that a mother who gave up her son has fallen in love with him again, or that a woman who has lost two babies knows that there is a God who loves her and her lost children despite what the world seems to be saying.
So we live on this ship and we go about our work and trust that because God has called us all here that when we least expect, at any moment, we will find that Jesus has walked by and what we do in faith and blindness has been made holy and eternal.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A few things that aren't lost in translation...
Sunday, March 7, 2010
When it seems storms are in short supply
Friday, March 5, 2010
The crew of the Africa Mercy is also full of variety. A few of my favorites are the four security guards who are all Nepalise Gurkas. They made dinner for a few of us one night: tasty lentils and fish that they insisted we eat a painfully excessive amount of. I went for a run one morning -my first run in Africa- with one of them and when I told him that if we went any farther he'd have to carry me back to the boat he said, "Ok," and on we went, a bit farther.
There are lots more things to say... but it's dinner time! We eat on schedule here and it is too tasty to miss. Mangos for breakfast. Crispy lettuce for lunch and dinner -from I have no idea where. Starbucks coffee on tap. Ice cream every Thursday after community meeting... good thing I have Gurkas to make sure I run far enough :)
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
I'm really going now.
This morning we are headed to Africa, finally. It will take a five hour drive to Houston, then a ten hour flight to Paris, then a seven hour flight to Benin, then a few hours drive and we will be there. I'm going to wear my pajama pants. And carry-on a skirt in case my bags get lost. And maybe take some benadryl so I can sleep. I checked with my friends -they told me they'd drag me off the plane if need be. It will be a long journey... it has been a long journey already but the good part is just about to start. I have been so blessed with the support and encouragement of so many. Thank you.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
"Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you." -Jesus
My training here in Texas is called Gateway. We are, like these sheep, standing at the gate, literally pregnant with hope and promise, with eagerness for the path ahead. My classmates each have their own stories, their own path, but for now, here, we are easily and joyfully woven together. Each in our own way we have been asking, seeking, knocking. And here we are, standing together in front of the same door grinning at each other while we wait and prepare because we know there are good, good things behind this door.