January 1 update

below is my newsletter

January 2009

Dear Family and Friends,

At times, it seems as if were just yesterday I was saying goodbyes and boarding a plane to Africa. But in reality, I have been in here for four months already (and likely five by the time some of you get this). I am sitting here wondering how to capture the past four months for each of you at home—how to tell you about the way I live, the work I do, the people who are my “family” here, my triumphs and struggles in this new life of mine.

My day-to-day life is quite different for some obvious some not-so-obvious reasons. First of all, I live on a 500 foot long, 8 story ship that houses my “home” and my work, the store, a gym, the laundry, a coffee shop, and a “restaurant”. I live with 3 other ladies in my cabin along with some 400 or so other crew members aboard. My cabin is roughly the size of my bedroom at home but shared with 3 other people and holding 4 closets, 4 beds, a small sitting area and a bathroom. My commute to work has decreased from approximately 30 minutes to about 30 seconds. I don’t have to worry about cooking dinner for myself after a long shift. I can’t just run to the local grocery store if I do feel like cooking or have run out of something. Some not so obvious changes are living in 24/7 community. I live out my life, good days and bad, in front of everyone. I enjoy having my friends right in the next berth but there are times when I long for solitude. And surprisingly, there are days when I feel intensely lonely despite being surrounded by the 400 other some odd crew members. Ship life itself is fairly routine. Regular community wide or departmental devotional times, work times, set meal times take up most of the day-to-day. You fit in friend time and keeping up with those at home and working out and French classes and whatever else around those things.

To tell you about work, I will share a couple of my patients and their stories with you. Work is both less and more demanding than ever before. Less in that I am working with mostly healthy individuals who are recovering from surgery. More in that their need is overwhelming. There are frustrations in how things are done differently from home or making do with what supplies we have not necessarily what I am used to working with. But the joys far outweigh the frustrations.
Meet Agnes and Alice. They represent the women with VVF—vesicovaginal fistula. This is an opening created between the bladder and birth canal by traumatic births. These women leak urine constantly and become outcast in their societies. The women often enter the hospital with despair, shame, fear and distrust. Each day as we work with them, not only taking care of their bodies but also loving them and talking with them, you can watch a growing wonder at people who would love and value them despite what their culture says. As their bodies continue to heal and they become “dry” , there is a quiet joy that starts and usually by the end of their stay they are singing and dancing in the hallways. (now that is something I don’t see at home very often!) To watch their transformation from despair to joy is so rewarding.

Of course, my happiest times at work are the days I get to take care of the children who have had surgical procedures. Children are such a delight. Often these kids have lived a far harder life than I have experienced in my many years and their eyes hold a soul far beyond their years. It is humbling to work with each of the patients who live with so little comparatively but yet find joy and contentment in what they have.
Below are some of the children I cared for over the last few months.

I have been truly blessed by God in my extended “family” on the ship. My cabin-mates are dear friends who make me laugh and listen when I ramble and sit beside me when I cry. They have walked through both the good and hard days at my side. The members of my gateway (training class prior to coming) all get together often to just enjoy each other. My fellow nurses are fun to work with and challenge me to become a better nurse and a better person. There are new people coming all the time to the crew and regular goodbyes but it is a great family to be part of.

I’ve mentioned most of my struggles and daily I feel it a triumph if I serve my Father as He has called me. Whatever that looks like for the day, caring for my patients or walking in unity with my fellow crewmembers.

For the holiday season, we are docked in Santa Cruz, Tenerife, Canary Islands, Spain. The medical staff is having a well-deserved rest. Most of us have transferred into jobs in other parts of the ship. I am working in our coffee shop and although it is a bit surreal to serve my friends coffee, it is fun. The deck and engineering teams are putting in long hours to do ship maintenance that cannot be done when we have patients aboard. We will be sailing to Benin in late January and beginning another ten month outreach.

This work is just as much yours as it is mine and it is all for His glory. I could not be here serving if it weren’t for my gracious financial and prayer supporters. For that I thank you. And I pray that this work will bless you as well.