Friday, July 9, 2010
Our lovely daughter
Raelyn Joy Carter was born on May 21st at 6:34 am weighing in at 7 pounds 7 oz and 20 inches long! The Lord greatly blessed the labor and delivery and the first weeks of transition. We are doing well and you can see lots of pics of Raelyn and what we've been up to at the following site! We take way too many pictures to try to post them to the blog. Enjoy!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Has it really been 9 months? .....yes
I know, it is pitiful. I have only blogged once since being pregnant. Since this amazing season of life started in which there is so much to share and talk about! I am not going to make excuses, I am just going to write.
The Lord has blessed us tremendously during this pregnancy. I and the baby have remained healthy throughout with no red or yellow flags or cause for concern. I have been amazed at how my body gets used to each new phase of pregnancy. I am at the end of the pregnancy now. It is wednesday and my due date is this upcoming monday. I start to feel my body preparing for labor and know that so much is about to change, but Josh and I are very excited to meet our little girl. We have prayed for her throughout this pregnancy. For her health, safety, and ultimately her salvation. We pray that the Lord will use her to glorify himself. Which, can be a scary prayer, but we know that unless we practice opening our hands up to the Lord now it will only get harder as we fall more and more in love with our daughter.
Things I am most excited about with meeting our little one: snuggling with her, how big will she be?, will she be super long from tall sides of our families?, seeing Josh snuggle with her, seeing Josh change a diaper for the first time, and announcing her arrival to the world.
The doctor keeps saying labor could be any minute, or a week from now. My parents are graciously being on call to fly up when I go into labor to come help us after the baby is born. Josh's parents will come soon after my parents leave. Then, my best friend Renzia will come in early July! The church has generously offered to step in and fill the holes with meals as needed. We feel incredibly loved by the people around us and continue to offer praises to our Lord for his goodness. Hopefully, in the next couple of weeks the newest blog will be a birth announcement, so stay tuned!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Faithful through Frostbite
(Mt. Mansfield in snow)On the night of January 13, 2010, I saw God’s faithfulness in the midst of frostbite.
My work finished a little early that morning, and I decided to take a quick snowshoe trip up to Mt. Mansfield, a gorgeous mountain nearby, the tallest in Vermont. I gathered a scant amount of gear into my backpack, including some light coats, a camera, and an extra Nalgene bottle. Only two packs of crackers remained for me to grab on the pantry shelves; I had been charged to make a grocery run later in the day. I headed out the door toward the mountain with an excited heart, ready for a beautiful adventure. As I approached, the whole peak was shining clearly and brightly in the January Vermont sunlight, surely an omen of good weather and lovely scenery.
The start of my hike at 11:30 am was wonderful – an absolute delight. Bright skies and light, fluffy snow made for a great experience. The trail revealed the snowshoe tracks of several other snowshoers before me – it was nicely packed down and just wide enough for my classical wooden snowshoes to slide through. After a pleasant hour and a half I emerged onto the Sunset ridge, an exposed half-mile of ridgeline that stretches up to the summit of the Mt. Mansfield, called the Chin. There were a couple of hikers up ahead of me, and I was on pace to catch them. I stopped briefly to take a few shots with my camera and pull my wool hat over my literally frozen hair. The clouds had intruded upon my picturesque day, and the summit was barely visible; the valley floor was impossible to see.
(The two guys are barely visible ahead, the Chin is far ahead in the clouds)At the end of Sunset ridge, the trail turns sharply to the right and loops back around to the summit. The two guys ahead of me were not aware of these directions, and evidently planned to bushwhack their way up the side of the Chin through some difficult, steep terrain pock-marked by half-buried pine trees. Thinking that staying on the trail would be easier and safer, I puzzled out where I thought it might dive through the trees and picked my way through via that route. No one had been here in some time, and my snowshoe prints were alone. As I approached the top ridge, the ground became altogether different. No trees were present, the wind had picked up considerably, and the thick snows on the trail below had changed to a windblown sheet of packed ice. After a few careful minutes, however, I reached the snow covered wooden sign admonishing hikers to stay on the trail- an ironic message today, as the trail at this point was utterly indeterminable and the only clear direction was that of the overall uphill trajectory.
With only a few dozen yards to go, the two snowshoers emerged out of the still-thickening clouds on their way back down the peak. They had arrived before me. We chatted for a bit with some congratulations passed around on our achievement. I thought it surprising that their blazed path had proved successful. The thought crossed my mind to ask them to wait and descend the peak with them, just for the strength in numbers, but my pride pushed that thought aside, and I continued alone. Not but a minute or two later, I was atop the highest pinnacle in Vermont, having bravely conquered it in the heart of winter with an old pair of wooden snowshoes. 2:00 pm – a 2.5 hour ascent in the snow. Not bad. I was already practically on my way to the grocery store. Applauding myself, I snapped a cold photo, turned around and began my descent.
(A cloudy photo on top of the Chin)Immediately things looked different, and I was thrown into some disorientation by the various contours of land and ridges that I had not appreciated before. My previous tracks were impossible to retrace in the windy, cloudy, icy conditions. I stumbled about for a few minutes uncertain of my plan and trying to remain calm as the winds howled. My two compatriots were nowhere in sight. Then with a stroke of brilliance, I thought to simply follow their idea and bushwhack back down to the trail, hugging the steep face of the cliff. Seemed like a safe, foolproof idea. Indeed, any plan to hastily escape that nasty, exposed hill seemed better than remaining open to the elements.
So I acted. I took the plunge off the side of the Chin and headed down the mountain, stumbling through some snow deeper than I was expecting. After several hundred yards, I was really curious about why I was not encountering the trail. Something was strange. At 2:10pm, just a scant ten minutes since my moment of triumph on the summit, I made a phone call to Jessica just letting her know I was having a little trouble finding the trail, and asking for her prayer. It probably seemed like a pretty calm conversation, but inwardly I feared I was already in a pickle. I was flailing about. The going was very tough. The depth of the light, loose snow was hard to gauge, but I often found myself buried knee- or even waist-deep in the 5- or 6- (or 10?) foot snow despite my snowshoes. With tops of pine trees scattered all over the mountainside, snow was constantly shifting underneath frozen branches or settling around tree trunks. My large wooden snowshoes would then inevitably slide around on my feet, get lodged or even disappear in the snow, and require several minutes to unearth them. My ski poles were of little help, as the snow could easily gobble up their entire length. Progress was slow.
Finally at 3pm I decided this was foolish. I needed help. I had no idea what I was aiming for, had limited ability to move, and time was running out. Clouds had rolled in thick, and I could not even visualize the ridge. The sun would be setting in an hour and a half, and my prospects after dark appeared bleak. So after calling Jess again, I called 911.
The next seven hours involved multiple calls to several authorities, and especially the Stowe Search and Rescue Team leader. Initially they tried to triangulate my position with my cell phone and instructed me to sit still and that help was on the way. I tried. But without moving, even my six layers of clothing were not enough to block the chill in the single digit breezy temperatures. So I was told to head back up the mountain toward the summit, where my chances of being found would be greater above the tree line. They were assembling a rescue team that would be mobilized to explore the Sunset Ridge Trail area over the next few hours. That sounded hopeful. My cell phone noted that the afternoon had progressed to 4:30pm or so, and the light was thickening at this point. Yet the plan made sense to me, and so I trudged back up the steep, snowy hillside. Initially I had thought to simple retrace my footprints. Impossible. The snow was so loose that even my deep, wading steps had immediately collapsed as I passed, and I could not follow them back up the hill in the failing daylight. So I aimed for “uphill” and plodded along with the same struggles I had had previously.
After perhaps an hour of struggle, I suddenly met a wall of rock, probably 20 feet high. My initial thoughts were full of excitement – I was making progress. After all, where would a cliff-face be except near the mountain summit? Yet before long, I found this insurmountable obstacle to be very frustrating. Initially I tried to pass to the right, but found no easy trail. So I mustered the resolve to flank the cliff on the left side. That proved quite a challenge as well. Night had arrived in full force and my visibility had been reduced to about 3-4 feet. I frequently pulled my iPod Touch (a gadget without GPS or phone capabilities) from my frozen pocket to shine its light for a few seconds to distinguish between an approaching pine tree or rock or abominable snowman. This change of path, however, proved steeper, darker, icier, and altogether worse. OK. I turned again and headed back to the right side. The going in the blackness was miserably slow. I spent several hours in my encounter with the rock wall.
The time stretched to beyond 10pm. Another phone call to the team leader confirmed that I needed to keep going – the team was deployed on the mountain in full search mode. Even this news, while hopeful, did not break through my frustration. I had reached the most discouraging time of my experience on Mansfield. I could not climb over the wall, could not go left or right, and did not want to drop back down into the trees lest my rescuers never find me. I felt stuck. I could not see, my fingers and toes were cold, and all of this was my own dumb fault. My spirits had stayed positive the entire time as long as I could pursue a goal. Now my plan seemed impossible, and I was beginning to be frustrated. “Help me, Lord!” I thought.
It was about that time that a faint breeze carried the sound of dog barking. I froze and listened intently. Sure enough – I had heard barking. Maybe the rescue team had brought a search dog with them, I reasoned. I hollered as loud as I could. Nothing. But a minute later, a fuzzy phonetic babbling carried across the cold mountainside- the unmistakable mark of a distant human voice. I yelled again, and this time a faint voice returned my shout, acknowledging that they had heard me call. I was found.
Now that was a great feeling. A warm rush of near-glee coursed through my chilly body, and I began to slip and slide my way toward the sound. I was found. As the voices strengthened, a faint illumination began to blend through the clouds. As the minutes and the rescuers marched on, this hazy light coalesced into individual headlamps of men walking toward me through the thick snow. The pair of men came within ten or fifteen feet from me before they could spot me in the dense cloud. Warm greetings were exchanged, warm gloves replaced frozen ones, and the ferocity of the mountain seemed somehow milder. The guys gave me some candy bars, and strapped a much-needed headlamp to my snow-covered wool hat. We began to march back the way they had come. Soon the rest of their team emerged from the night - there were altogether five of them (and no dog) – and we snowshoed our way back up toward the summit. “Where is your lottery ticket?” one of them asked, “You sure had a winner tonight.” “Yeah, we gave you no better than a 2% chance of being found on a night like this,” another commented. Wow, I thought. Thank you, Lord. The men helped me hike back the several hundred yards to the trail I had lost, and then on to the summit. Our destination was on the opposite side of the peak – the Stowe Ski Resort was just over the ridge on the eastern side of Mansfield. Fifty MPH winds met us on the top of the mountain - a nasty place to be on a January midnight. Everything up there was disorienting. The summit trails are like a maze at noon in the summertime, let alone in conditions like these. In the night and cloud and wind, our team struggled to find the appropriate path, even with GPS help and a combined experience of hundreds of Mansfield ascents between the rescuers. It required three separate attempts on three separate trails before we began our descent on the appropriate one. After a final half-mile of hiking, the open avenue of a wide ski slope emerged. We hiked to the end of the ski lift just as a Snow Cat, a large tractor made for pushing snow around on the steep ski slopes, wheeled up. We all piled aboard.
“So what do you think you might do differently next time?” asked the most experienced hiker of the team. I chuckled and asked him how much time he had to listen. The folly of my trip was glaring. The combination of hiking alone on the highest peak in Vermont, being exposed above tree line in the middle of January in waist-deep snow, using old-school wooden snowshoes without crampons or cleats, lacking any reasonable amount of food or water, neglecting any provision for overnight warmth, forgetting a light and compass, and all while wearing cotton pants and gloves just begged for catastrophe. And most of all, I lacked the main thing, the essential nugget, the supreme tenant of hiking: I neglected any respect for the mountain.
A few minutes after midnight, we disembarked safely at the Search and Rescue station, a part of the Stowe Ski Resort, I found myself suddenly in the loving and remarkably well-composed arms of my wife. She had come with her good friend Heather Ebbers, who had proved invaluable in shouldering some of the emotional load for Jessica, not to mention sharing her snow tired-Subaru with us. Jess reported that a small army of friends from the church had diligently been in prayer for me. We hugged in tremendous gratitude for a few minutes, stopping finally so that I could shed my frozen clothes. My hands were inspected first of all. A pasty white color demarcated where the tips of all my fingers had been mildly frostbitten. My left ring finger had been bitten a little more severely, bearing the eerie texture and color of a dead fish and lacking any sign of pink, perfusing blood flow. My toes had been practically untouched. Praise the Lord. On the mountain, I was completely unaware that my digits were under such an extreme cold assault. Every minute that passed was damaging tissue, and I never would have realized it.
(Fingertips three days later)After thoroughly thanking the entire crew (how can you appropriately thank someone who saved your life by risking theirs?), Jess, Heather, and I piled into the Subaru and drove the hour back to Burlington. Jess urged me to keep my fingers in front of the car’s heater for the entire trip. I stopped by the hospital to discuss my fingers with some of my fellow orthopedic residents, re-warmed by digits in some hot water, and headed home. Jess and I joined together in a heartfelt, thankful prayer at 3:30am before crashing in bed, physically and emotionally spent.
I type these words one month after the scary events of January 13th. Since that time, the Lord has been abundantly gracious to me. Dozens of people have been praying for my fingers, and God has worked through those prayers mightily. My fingers are heading toward a complete recovery: old dead skin has peeled off the tips, leaving pink, healthy skin underneath. My ring finger has some residual numbness that should continue to improve, but it still feels funny every time my left hand strikes the “s” or “w” or “x” key on my computer. Lord willing, the nerves will all regrow.
A month has also given some new perspective on the whole experience. In retrospect, being lost and found on Mansfield paints an amazing picture of the Gospel. I was lost, plainly and simply lost. I was lost in pride and folly, unable even to recognize the impending danger of my condition. Destruction was so close around me. Only the gracious hands of God kept me from an injury or a slip or another misdirection that easily could have proven fatal. I was totally unable to help myself in that situation, was utterly powerless to improve my state. In fact, it required the work of another to pull me out of sure disaster, because I could not do it on my own. It required their sacrifice on my behalf to bring it about. When the rescuer finally arrived, I had no debate, no long decision about whether I should accept their help or not, no choosing what to do. No, I had but one immediate, reflexive response – walk toward the light of my savior who had come for me. And thankful joy flooded through my heart, leaving me forever grateful and forever changed. Thank the Lord.
Monday, November 9, 2009
We have now experienced two natural seasons here in Burlington, summer and fall. In that time we have experienced a change in temperature, a change in surroundings, and a change in recreational activities. Work stays the same, church stay the same, friends stay the same, but the surroundings change, our clothes change, and we have an added factor to consider when we go anywhere, the cold.
We are currently experiencing a couple of new seasons of life. One, home ownership. As I write this Josh is unhooking a thermostat from the wall to start a project to build me a pantry. He's awesome. We have made decisions about tearing down walls, replacing windows, and tiling our bathroom floor. We have never had to make decisions like this before.
The other season that we are embarking upon is parenthood. As I type this, a 12 week little baby is growing inside my belly. That is also awesome. We are excited about growing our family. We are making decisions about what will be best for the baby both while I carry him or her and also after we are able to meet our child. We have never had to think about many of these things before either, and we know that there will be many more factors that we will have to consider each time we leave the house. The prospect of parenthood is overwhelming but there is definitely a peace that comes with knowing that this is the Lord's child more than it is ours, and He loves it more than we ever could. We pray that the Lord is already working in its little heart and that we would be well equipped and ready to show our child Jesus.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Several times we've been asked, "Why Vermont?" and though we could always give them some canned answers (that it's beautiful, that we wanted to see a different part of the country, that Josh really liked the residency program, or simply - why not?), the true answer was always, we don't know, but we have a feeling that God is going to use this place to shape us for use in His Kingdom. Well, the Lord has definitely been blessing us with our time here, and we have the distinct comfort that He has sovereignly placed us here. Prior to coming to Vermont we asked many of you to pray for three specific things: a good church, a good home, and good friends. We'd like to share of how the Lord has displayed his goodness to us.
Request #1: Good church. Have you ever browsed the web looking for churches to attend? Quite interesting. You try to look at their doctrine and theology, the different ministries they have, a sense of their overall direction, and whether they seem to have free coffee in the foyer. Well, Josh was doing a web search prior to our first Sunday, and suddenly I heard an excited call come from the study. I went to the computer monitor to see what he was so pumped about, and I saw two words that always thrill Josh's heart. "Ulitmate Frisbee". Yes, the church had an ultimate frisbee ministry. So, with that said, we had no choice but to try Christ Memorial Church first. We also knew that is was one of the only reformed doctrine churches in the area. We attended the church and were amazed by the true feeling of the Body, the delivery of the Word, and evidence of active praise and repentence through their sharing time. We were immediately invited to dinner by a couple our own age, which have become fast friends. We have attended other churches in the area, but it has been incredible how we feel like part of the body of Christ Memorial Church after such limited contact. We have continued to attend CMC and are starting to get involved with their young adults ministry, women's ministry, and hope to be in a home group this fall.
Request #2: Good home. After being here 3 months we are starting to get the feeling of being settled in. It was a bit of a wake up call to see the prices on housing here, but the Lord provided in a way that we did not expect. We purchased a condo very similar to our Lexington townhouse, but one that could use a few home improvements. We are situated in a great location, in a crux between the busyness of Burlington, access to the "box stores" of Walmart, Home Depot, etc., and still on the the border of the open country. The Lord provided the home, the funds, and the relationships in our neighbors which we have been able to form so quickly. It is not the cute little single family home that I dreamed of, but it is perfect for us at this time, stage of life, and resources.
Our new address is:
4 Hayes Avenue
South Burlington,VT 05403
Request #3: Good friends. The Church has been amazing in its provision of friendships. It continues to astound me at how the bond of Christ enables you to form relationships so quickly. We have met an incredible group of people who are teaching us a lot about what it means to serve and strive after holiness. We also have made friends with our neighbors and people at work. Josh really enjoys his other Orthopedic colleagues. Our social life has not been boring and that is a great thing.
Josh and I are both enjoying the jobs that the Lord has provided also. Josh's residency demands a lot of him, but he truly has been able to enjoy it. He's more tired than usual, but he has continued to be the man of God that you all know him to be and an incredible husband to me during this transition. I am working part-time at an orthopedic outpatient clinic and per diem with a home health agency. The combination is suiting me well, giving me a great mix of job and time to get our house in working order.
We have also had a blast enjoying the beauty of Vermont. We have done lots of hiking, biking, and a little sailing! We are looking forward to the beauty of the fall and the new sports of the winter. I have my eyes on some snowshoes :). We are trying to mentally prepare ourselves for the cold of the winter, since I am freezing in the mornings right now, but we know thar it will be fine.
Friday, June 19, 2009
It's cold, but nice!
So, here we are in Vermont. Wow, there have been a lot of changes in the last three weeks. Josh and I feel like we have been on a "highs" and "lows" rollercoaster with lots of excitements and a few disappointments. This rollercoaster is easily explained by the necessity of the ride we have been taking.
Getting on the ride- We had a great move here with only one major hiccup. We accidentally left our laptop in the hotel at Lexington and it was stolen. But otherwise we really enjoyed the drive up here with my parents and getting to do a few Burlingtony things with them. We were definitely geared up for what was ahead of us.
Hill #1- Finding a place to live. Well, things are a lot more expensive up here than in KY. That combined with not having an income over the last 3 months can tend to complicate things. But, in the end after lots of looking, making offers, experiencing competing offers, and praying we are very excited about the little townhouse that we signed a contract on and hope to close on by the end of July. If you were wondering what it looks like, well, just imagine where we lived in Lexington and change the number by one and paint the outside brown (Josh's description). Our new address will be 4-Hayes Ave, South Burlington, VT. It will be close enough for Josh to bike to work (in the summer) and far away enough to escape the busyness of downtown Burlington. The lake is about 5 minutes from our house and the mountains are about 25. Beautiful views abound.
Downhill #1- The blast of exploring Burlington and the surrounding areas. I have posted many of our pictures on Facebook, I will try to figure out how to post an album on here. Simply said, it is gorgeous. I am already looking forward to the beauty of the fall colors. We have hiked the highest and 3rd highest mountains in Vermont. We have seen waterfalls, we have been on bikepaths, we have ran the neighborhood hiking trails, we have ridden the ferry, we have savored the Ben & Jerry's Factory Tour, and enjoyed a delightful B&B, we even splurged and got the 99 cent upgrade of Pure VT Maple Syrup at Denny's.
Hill #2- Logistical transitions (aka Headaches): Getting my PT license transferred, registering our cars, joining a bank, getting new licenses, figuring out how all this home buying stuff works. Its hard to get a lot of things done because we do not have a permanent address and will not have one until the end of July (we hope). For example the DMV wants a signed lease or a bank statement sent to our VT address before issuing a license. The bank wants proof of permanent residence before opening an account. We finally got it all figured out but it was a headache.
Downhill #2- Church hunting. The first Sunday that we were here we went to a church that we both got very excited about. Withing the first 15 minutes of being there we were already invited for dinner by a couple our own age. We enjoyed the praise, the message, the fellowship, and the vision of the church. We have had our new friends Jonathan and Heather over for a good game of Settlers since then and feel very blessed that the Lord has placed them in our lives.
Well, my imaginary rollercoaster is only going to have 2 hills. Partly because that encompasses a lot of what we have done and also because I need to figure out dinner. Josh started his residency on Wednesday and I have a PRN job with a home health agency and am also investigating some other part-time options. The reality that- this is it, we are here, what is the next 5 years going to look like- is hitting. We continue to strive to rest in the Sovereignty and Salvation of our Lord and pray for patience and perseverance.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Packing madness.
Our house looks downright chaotic right now. I mean, it's really impressive. We have stuff strewn everywhere. Bombshells, twisters, and freshmen college students could be described as neat and orderly in comparison with our upstairs hallway. I'm not joking. For me to make it to the bathroom, for example, I have to dodge the precarious stack of sweatshirts, maneuver around my barricaded closet door, pick my way past the imposing pile for Goodwill, and squeeze through two enormous boxes brimming over with clothes. All this without slipping on the growing mountain of trash.
It's really interesting the things you throw away when its time to move. Yesterday I chucked a massive folder that had housed my elementary school awards for the last 2 decades. Somehow, you just don't quite feel right throwing out such an archive of ancient commemorative stuff, you know? Now granted, no one is ever going to care that I was student of the month in October of my fourth grade, or that I received a certificate for most original poem in Mr. Frank's writing class, but still, my hand hesitated to throw that pile of fading papers away. Lots of fun memories came rushing back to mind, and it was good. Yet just as I was admiring myself for how accomplished and mature I was for ditching all of these petty, insignificant, outdated relics, I broke down when I saw my middle school basketball team picture. I just couldn't part with that photo of the impressively tiny, skinny kid with the comb-over and braces who had a vague resemblance to a beardless me. That portrait got tucked into the trunk right next to my 5th grade report on the Apache indians, which was fully illustrated, I will have you know. Everyone has their weakness, I guess.
The other thing about packing is that you realize you've been keeping some pretty crazy stuff for who knows how long. This can be eye-opening and mind-boggling. I'm giving a stack of clothes to Goodwill that is two feet high. Why the heck do I have two feet of extra clothes? Where in the heck did they come from? Why do I still have a stack of receipts from 2005? And why is that expensive silk tie hiding underneath my muddy workboots? What do I do with a Discman CD player these days? Since when did I think that a fourth pair of jean shorts would be a good idea - like I just couldn't stand having only three to sit unworn in my closet? Why do I literally have nine different types of socks that have no match? Nine! It is baffling to see the bizarre items that are hiding in the cracks and corners of your home.
The most ironic thing about it is that we are going to box up all of these items, cram them into a 16 foot long truck, haul them over 17 hours of interstate, and eventually pull them all out in a reverse sort of mayhem where instead of too much excess, we will be unable to find this or that, we go buy more items, and wish we hadn't sold that extra George Foreman grill. Mayhem. Madness. For the moment, however, these cramped passageways that we used to call "halls" are still mocking us. There is more packing to be done, more package tape to fight with, more trips out to the dumpster, more bubble wrap, more dust bunnies...
...and less time remaining in this good home.
It's really interesting the things you throw away when its time to move. Yesterday I chucked a massive folder that had housed my elementary school awards for the last 2 decades. Somehow, you just don't quite feel right throwing out such an archive of ancient commemorative stuff, you know? Now granted, no one is ever going to care that I was student of the month in October of my fourth grade, or that I received a certificate for most original poem in Mr. Frank's writing class, but still, my hand hesitated to throw that pile of fading papers away. Lots of fun memories came rushing back to mind, and it was good. Yet just as I was admiring myself for how accomplished and mature I was for ditching all of these petty, insignificant, outdated relics, I broke down when I saw my middle school basketball team picture. I just couldn't part with that photo of the impressively tiny, skinny kid with the comb-over and braces who had a vague resemblance to a beardless me. That portrait got tucked into the trunk right next to my 5th grade report on the Apache indians, which was fully illustrated, I will have you know. Everyone has their weakness, I guess.
The other thing about packing is that you realize you've been keeping some pretty crazy stuff for who knows how long. This can be eye-opening and mind-boggling. I'm giving a stack of clothes to Goodwill that is two feet high. Why the heck do I have two feet of extra clothes? Where in the heck did they come from? Why do I still have a stack of receipts from 2005? And why is that expensive silk tie hiding underneath my muddy workboots? What do I do with a Discman CD player these days? Since when did I think that a fourth pair of jean shorts would be a good idea - like I just couldn't stand having only three to sit unworn in my closet? Why do I literally have nine different types of socks that have no match? Nine! It is baffling to see the bizarre items that are hiding in the cracks and corners of your home.
The most ironic thing about it is that we are going to box up all of these items, cram them into a 16 foot long truck, haul them over 17 hours of interstate, and eventually pull them all out in a reverse sort of mayhem where instead of too much excess, we will be unable to find this or that, we go buy more items, and wish we hadn't sold that extra George Foreman grill. Mayhem. Madness. For the moment, however, these cramped passageways that we used to call "halls" are still mocking us. There is more packing to be done, more package tape to fight with, more trips out to the dumpster, more bubble wrap, more dust bunnies...
...and less time remaining in this good home.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
So much to tell...
So we are back in Lexington now but there is still so much to write about with the closing of our trip. So this is my attempt to not let the last two weeks disappear without letting you know some of the things that went on. There were definitely some very exciting things at the end of our trip.
Exciting event #1- The most adventurous weekend of my life! Josh and I and 5 other friends travelled to Jinja, Uganda to white water raft the Nile. This trip came about because of our good friend Joe Stone very excitedly told me before we left that we "had to do it." The combination of my own love for adventure, Joe's excitement, and the chance to have a lifetime experience were pretty much irresistible. So, the planning began. Two goals of the trip were- to do it as cheaply as possible and have a blast. This combination is what made it an adventure. We used the busing route from Kenya to Uganda, which involved a 7 hour bus ride, in a huge bus, on a little road. To say the least I was very tense about 80% of those 7 hours. The place that we rafted was definitely a hippie/ place for young people to hang out while they figure out what they want to do with our lives. Don't get me wrong it was a good establishment, just interesting. Then rafting.... WOW, crazy, huge, large, rapids that were very powerful.
Josh and I felt that power first hand. On the first rapid Josh was thrown out of the boat (along with the rest of us) but then proceeded to be pushed to the bottom, scraping and bruising his back and ankle on some very mean rocks. He came up dazed, shaken up, and hurting /bleeding a bit... but he was ok. The last rapid was my turn to feel the power. We were all thrown out of the boat again as it flipped, but this time the rapids wanted to hang on to me a little longer than I and my lungs were comfortable with. I got stuck in a "washing machine" of sorts where I got sucked back into the rapid 3x before by the grace of God it finally spit me out and let me see the light of day. I came out very shaken up, coughing, and scared.... but ok. Oh yeah, my helmet and pants got ripped off too, I hope my pants are of good use to some Ugandan out there right now. After our rafting and another "exciting" bus ride we finally returned safely with quite a story to tell.
Exciting event #2- So way back in my first or second blog I told you about how my "project" for the trip was to build the rehab dept a standing frame. In the first two weeks I brainstormed, planned and tried to recall what I had worked with at Cardinal Hill. A standing frame is used by people who have difficulty standing on their own- whether they are completely paralyzed from a spinal cord injury, partially paralyzed from a stroke or brain injury, or just have other medical conditions that make standing difficult. So the plans were turned in and on the day before we were to leave the standing frame was completed and started to be put into use. It was so exciting to see plans come together and a tool be created that will greatly benefit the rehab team. The plans were definitely from the Lord.
I had been working with a patient who had been attacked in his home and almost beaten to death. He had a brain injury and we had been working with him gradually from initiating range of motion, to holding his head up, to sitting up in a wheelchair. The entire time I was working with him I knew that the standing frame would be perfect for his condition and was hoping that it would be done in time for me to demonstrate to the team the benefits behind this therapy. The Lord fulfilled that desire. I brought David to the PT room and he stood up in the frame wonderfully! We had to help him of course, but in the time that he stood we saw him become more responsive to commands, more intentional with his actions, and even got a smile out of him.
Exciting event #3- Kijabe hospital. On Wed of our last week we packed up all our things and travelled to Kijabe hospital to meet Dr. Bransford and his wife Millie. Kijabe hospital is where many of Josh's aunt's and uncles have served as missionaries. There is a long heritage of Schuits (Josh's mom's family) there and Josh's grandparents were very good friends with Dr. and Mrs. Bransford. Rift Valley Academy- a 6-12 grade private school for missionary kids, was also on our list of things to see there. We were very impressed by facility and were able to see where Josh's mom and several of his cousins went to school. Josh had visited Kijabe hospital in '94 with his family so he had lots of reminiscing and fun memories. Dr. and Mrs. Bransford were incredible hosts and it was great to see their ministry there and the joy of the Lord in them as they continued to expand his kingdom. Dr. Bransford has been an inspiration and role model for Josh for some time now as we have been able to follow his ministry through his email updates. Josh spent one day with Dr. Bransford on the ward and OR and I spent the day with one of the therapists in the hospital and then with another one at Rift Valley Academy. It was a great time to see a different setting for a mission hospital, gain some new friends, and for Josh and I to debrief and reflect on our time in Africa as a whole before we returned to all the decisions that now need to be made.
So now we are home. We had a wonderful greeting from our great friends the Lindemann's that has been just one of the many, many, things that we have been able to praise God for and marvel at the blessings he has placed in our lives. It has been incredible to have our eyes opened to how much the Lord has given us and how he has poured so much grace on us as we have appreciated his blessings so little.
I just finished running with my good friend Leslie, and I have a day ahead of me of preparation for our big move to Vermont. The next adventure. We will be moving on May 31st. The Lord's faithfulness will continue, we are so grateful for that promise, and we plan on attempting to continue to blog about all that He is doing in our lives. So, stay tuned!
Exciting event #1- The most adventurous weekend of my life! Josh and I and 5 other friends travelled to Jinja, Uganda to white water raft the Nile. This trip came about because of our good friend Joe Stone very excitedly told me before we left that we "had to do it." The combination of my own love for adventure, Joe's excitement, and the chance to have a lifetime experience were pretty much irresistible. So, the planning began. Two goals of the trip were- to do it as cheaply as possible and have a blast. This combination is what made it an adventure. We used the busing route from Kenya to Uganda, which involved a 7 hour bus ride, in a huge bus, on a little road. To say the least I was very tense about 80% of those 7 hours. The place that we rafted was definitely a hippie/ place for young people to hang out while they figure out what they want to do with our lives. Don't get me wrong it was a good establishment, just interesting. Then rafting.... WOW, crazy, huge, large, rapids that were very powerful.
Josh and I felt that power first hand. On the first rapid Josh was thrown out of the boat (along with the rest of us) but then proceeded to be pushed to the bottom, scraping and bruising his back and ankle on some very mean rocks. He came up dazed, shaken up, and hurting /bleeding a bit... but he was ok. The last rapid was my turn to feel the power. We were all thrown out of the boat again as it flipped, but this time the rapids wanted to hang on to me a little longer than I and my lungs were comfortable with. I got stuck in a "washing machine" of sorts where I got sucked back into the rapid 3x before by the grace of God it finally spit me out and let me see the light of day. I came out very shaken up, coughing, and scared.... but ok. Oh yeah, my helmet and pants got ripped off too, I hope my pants are of good use to some Ugandan out there right now. After our rafting and another "exciting" bus ride we finally returned safely with quite a story to tell.
Exciting event #2- So way back in my first or second blog I told you about how my "project" for the trip was to build the rehab dept a standing frame. In the first two weeks I brainstormed, planned and tried to recall what I had worked with at Cardinal Hill. A standing frame is used by people who have difficulty standing on their own- whether they are completely paralyzed from a spinal cord injury, partially paralyzed from a stroke or brain injury, or just have other medical conditions that make standing difficult. So the plans were turned in and on the day before we were to leave the standing frame was completed and started to be put into use. It was so exciting to see plans come together and a tool be created that will greatly benefit the rehab team. The plans were definitely from the Lord.
I had been working with a patient who had been attacked in his home and almost beaten to death. He had a brain injury and we had been working with him gradually from initiating range of motion, to holding his head up, to sitting up in a wheelchair. The entire time I was working with him I knew that the standing frame would be perfect for his condition and was hoping that it would be done in time for me to demonstrate to the team the benefits behind this therapy. The Lord fulfilled that desire. I brought David to the PT room and he stood up in the frame wonderfully! We had to help him of course, but in the time that he stood we saw him become more responsive to commands, more intentional with his actions, and even got a smile out of him.
Exciting event #3- Kijabe hospital. On Wed of our last week we packed up all our things and travelled to Kijabe hospital to meet Dr. Bransford and his wife Millie. Kijabe hospital is where many of Josh's aunt's and uncles have served as missionaries. There is a long heritage of Schuits (Josh's mom's family) there and Josh's grandparents were very good friends with Dr. and Mrs. Bransford. Rift Valley Academy- a 6-12 grade private school for missionary kids, was also on our list of things to see there. We were very impressed by facility and were able to see where Josh's mom and several of his cousins went to school. Josh had visited Kijabe hospital in '94 with his family so he had lots of reminiscing and fun memories. Dr. and Mrs. Bransford were incredible hosts and it was great to see their ministry there and the joy of the Lord in them as they continued to expand his kingdom. Dr. Bransford has been an inspiration and role model for Josh for some time now as we have been able to follow his ministry through his email updates. Josh spent one day with Dr. Bransford on the ward and OR and I spent the day with one of the therapists in the hospital and then with another one at Rift Valley Academy. It was a great time to see a different setting for a mission hospital, gain some new friends, and for Josh and I to debrief and reflect on our time in Africa as a whole before we returned to all the decisions that now need to be made.
So now we are home. We had a wonderful greeting from our great friends the Lindemann's that has been just one of the many, many, things that we have been able to praise God for and marvel at the blessings he has placed in our lives. It has been incredible to have our eyes opened to how much the Lord has given us and how he has poured so much grace on us as we have appreciated his blessings so little.
I just finished running with my good friend Leslie, and I have a day ahead of me of preparation for our big move to Vermont. The next adventure. We will be moving on May 31st. The Lord's faithfulness will continue, we are so grateful for that promise, and we plan on attempting to continue to blog about all that He is doing in our lives. So, stay tuned!
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Isabellah
For the past three weeks I have been seeing a patient named Isabellah. Isabellah came into the hospital after being treated by another hospital following a car accident. She had a broken femur and deep lacerations down her right leg. At the other hospital she had been sown up and then she transferred to Tenwek. Dr. Galat and Josh performed her surgery repairing her broken femur and also opening up her laceration to get it clean. Under the sutures they found that her tissue was barely alive. She had to go back to the operating room 2 additional times for cleaning and skin grafts before she as released for rehab. I met her on rounds and she immediately took to me. When ever I would walk past her room she would yell out "Jesska." Then I would go in, say hello, pray with her, and let her know that I was looking forward to working with her. She has been a patient that expects me to pray with her and definitely keeps me accountable to that.
Isabellah is a confessed believer. She attends an African Gospel Church- the predominant denomination here. She speaks of the Lord freely. She also comes from a family that seems to be well off. She has given me gifts often of bananas and sugar cane. She has pedicured toe nails and has been well fed.
In a previous post I mentioned that Isabellah has been the source of some of my greatest joys and frustrations on this trip. She has brought me joy in the fellowship I have with her as a sister in Christ. It is a blessing to pray with her and to be able to encourage her in her faith throughout her recovery.
Unfortunately though, Isabellah is spoiled. Her pain tolerance is incredibly low. She does not take ownership of her own body but rather expects others to do everything for her, including make her better. I feel like I have been trying to instill work ethic and determination into her for the entire time I have treated her. I have become very frustrated with her because she just will not move her leg. Trust me, she can. I have nicknamed her Drama Queen. Frequently when we first started to get her out of bed she would act like she was fainting so that we would let her sit down. Her screams can be heard in the next building when I even start to move her leg. She is afraid of pain- she is not actually hurting (because I am not actually moving it) she is just afraid of it hurting. I do believe there is a Biblical principle here. Isabellah is paralyzed because of fear. She continually tells me that "this isn't my fault." My reply is "the fact that you won't be able to walk later will be your fault." Isabellah believes that she didn't deserve what happened to her so therefore she shouldn't have to endure the pain of recovery.
So often I feel like my sinful nature isn't my fault- I can't help that I sin, I'm a victim. Therefore it should just be taken away supernaturally. The reality is that I must endure sanctification and be grateful that the Lord wants to make me better. But I must trust in the Lord that the pain of sanctification is making me better- even though it hurts.
"Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Hebrews 12: 10-11
My time with Isabellah has also tested my ability to truly love her. Loving Isabellah doesn't mean that I am always nice to her. Often I have been stern, real, and called her out on her laziness and excuses. It is amazing to see how the bond of Christ remains strong and we can always laugh and "be friends again" at the end of a session. Often she has said she misses the "old Jesska," meaning the nice one that spent 2 hours with her just to convince her to get out of bed. The great thing is that she understands that I have changed strategies to cultivate independence in her. In the course of our three weeks together she has cried, her father has cried because of her screaming, her roommate has cried because she thought I was torturing the poor girl, she has threatened to sue me, and her mother has realized how spoiled her daughter really is. Her mom greets me each day outside the ortho ward with cheek to cheek kisses (which we have head butted several times b/c of my unfamiliarity with the custom) and a smile, she understands that I am truly there to help no matter how much it may look otherwise.
Currently Isabellah is on the upswing. Her skin grafts are healing and she is slowly starting to achieve some muscle contractions. She still has one skin graft remaining to be completed then she will be discharged to go home. She is walking on her own for about 50 ft. She continues to want to lay in bed all day and complains the entire time she is sitting up, but she is making progress. She has taught me a new kind of patience and love. With her progress I have seen glimpses of a new strength in her, my prayer is that the source of that strength grows in the power of Christ.
Isabellah is a confessed believer. She attends an African Gospel Church- the predominant denomination here. She speaks of the Lord freely. She also comes from a family that seems to be well off. She has given me gifts often of bananas and sugar cane. She has pedicured toe nails and has been well fed.
In a previous post I mentioned that Isabellah has been the source of some of my greatest joys and frustrations on this trip. She has brought me joy in the fellowship I have with her as a sister in Christ. It is a blessing to pray with her and to be able to encourage her in her faith throughout her recovery.
Unfortunately though, Isabellah is spoiled. Her pain tolerance is incredibly low. She does not take ownership of her own body but rather expects others to do everything for her, including make her better. I feel like I have been trying to instill work ethic and determination into her for the entire time I have treated her. I have become very frustrated with her because she just will not move her leg. Trust me, she can. I have nicknamed her Drama Queen. Frequently when we first started to get her out of bed she would act like she was fainting so that we would let her sit down. Her screams can be heard in the next building when I even start to move her leg. She is afraid of pain- she is not actually hurting (because I am not actually moving it) she is just afraid of it hurting. I do believe there is a Biblical principle here. Isabellah is paralyzed because of fear. She continually tells me that "this isn't my fault." My reply is "the fact that you won't be able to walk later will be your fault." Isabellah believes that she didn't deserve what happened to her so therefore she shouldn't have to endure the pain of recovery.
So often I feel like my sinful nature isn't my fault- I can't help that I sin, I'm a victim. Therefore it should just be taken away supernaturally. The reality is that I must endure sanctification and be grateful that the Lord wants to make me better. But I must trust in the Lord that the pain of sanctification is making me better- even though it hurts.
"Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Hebrews 12: 10-11
My time with Isabellah has also tested my ability to truly love her. Loving Isabellah doesn't mean that I am always nice to her. Often I have been stern, real, and called her out on her laziness and excuses. It is amazing to see how the bond of Christ remains strong and we can always laugh and "be friends again" at the end of a session. Often she has said she misses the "old Jesska," meaning the nice one that spent 2 hours with her just to convince her to get out of bed. The great thing is that she understands that I have changed strategies to cultivate independence in her. In the course of our three weeks together she has cried, her father has cried because of her screaming, her roommate has cried because she thought I was torturing the poor girl, she has threatened to sue me, and her mother has realized how spoiled her daughter really is. Her mom greets me each day outside the ortho ward with cheek to cheek kisses (which we have head butted several times b/c of my unfamiliarity with the custom) and a smile, she understands that I am truly there to help no matter how much it may look otherwise.
Currently Isabellah is on the upswing. Her skin grafts are healing and she is slowly starting to achieve some muscle contractions. She still has one skin graft remaining to be completed then she will be discharged to go home. She is walking on her own for about 50 ft. She continues to want to lay in bed all day and complains the entire time she is sitting up, but she is making progress. She has taught me a new kind of patience and love. With her progress I have seen glimpses of a new strength in her, my prayer is that the source of that strength grows in the power of Christ.
Therapy
My work here at Tenwek has mainly been acute care inpatient rehab. My typical day has matured to now I see the patients in the wards of the hospital while the other therapists handle the outpatient visits and any casting needs there are in the hospital. This can be a lot of work. My days are generally longer than what I would put in at the US and they are definitely more varied. I've mentioned some aspects of care in my previous posts, but I thought an 'end of our time here' reflection is now appropriate.
Differences between therapy in the US and Kenya:
1.) Casting- Here therapists are expected to be expert casters. I have only applied one cast by myself but I have helped the other therapists apply on average 2 casts each day. I have gotten a lot of experience with the cast saw.
2.) Prescriptions- The therapists can prescribe pain medicine and anti-inflammatories. I have been handing those responsibilities over to the other therapists.
3.)Traction Pins- Therapists play a big role in inserting traction pins into the limbs of children and adults for setting up traction to heal their fractures.
4.)Spica casts- They are everywhere. These casts position the patient with their leg out to their side and externally rotated. The casts typically go up the leg around the waist and part way down the other leg. Many are modified here to only include one leg to allow the patient to walk. Sitting is very difficult for these patients.
5.) Exercise- The majority of people I work with have no concept of exercise. Which makes sense, because they perform manual labor as their exercise. But the concept of continuing to bend your leg to make it be able to bend like normal seems to be a foreign strategy. They just say "it won't bend" and then don't work on it the rest of the day, despite my instruction. Then they get pretty aggravated at me at times when I make it bend, yes it hurts, but it is always the young men who get the most mad, I think it is a control issue. A huge issue with non-compliancy with exercise is my inability to speak their language. Most of the time I can get my point across with motions, broken Swahili and their broken English. Then I ask the nurse to translate the frequency of exercises, but often I wonder if the nurse understands how they really do need to do it as many times as I am telling them. The national therapist's default for frequency here is "do it 100 times a day." I'm not sure that strategy works either.
6.) Families- The families here seek me out to work with their beloved ones. After I do my initial evaluation the caregivers keep an eye out for me all day and are sure to remind me when I walk by that their child or mother or father needs to be seen. Another difference is the gratfulness the families display. It is definitely apparent. I seem to be able to bond quickly with patients and their families here. Whether it is from the guys on ortho giving me a hard time because I don't speak their language or the children beaming when I poke my head into the room, there are definitely relationships being built. I plan on blogging about Isabellah soon- she has been one of my biggest frustrations and joys on this trip.
7.) Assistive devices- They have to pay for them before they can get them. This creates a huge dilemma for me. I will train someone on crutches (which are used a lot more here than in the US) then I have to take them away until they can pay for them. Then I see my patient either laying in bed all the time when they could be walking, or walking on the limb that they are not supposed to be letting touch the ground. This is a frustration with the system.
8.) Diseases- There have been many times when the diagnosis for a patient reads malaria vs. typhoid or cva vs seizure or just plain unknown origin. Often you have to assume the patient has the worst to protect yourself from contamination. They do not have a CT scan or MRI here which makes definitive diagnoses very difficult in many cases. It doesn't effect my treatment much, just how carefully I wash my hands afterwards.
8.) The freedom to pray- There is such a joy and comfort brought to the patients by speaking the Lord's name and praying with them as they recover. Both the freedom and how comfortable it is to pray with the patients is different from the US. It has also shown me how many opportunities to pray with my patients in the US I have let pass by.
Despite the many differences between the US and here I am amazed at how God continually shows me evidence of the fact that we are all created in his image. People seem to be the same here versus America. We are all either sinners living in sin or saved by grace. There are strong, weak, tough, whiny, joyful, sad, excuse makers, and overcomers on my case load. Personalities seem to be evenly distributed, very similar to the personalities that I see in the US. I am able to bond quickly to fellow believers and have barriers to overcome with angry or resentful patients, but they all appreciate and seem to recognize genuine care.
Differences between therapy in the US and Kenya:
1.) Casting- Here therapists are expected to be expert casters. I have only applied one cast by myself but I have helped the other therapists apply on average 2 casts each day. I have gotten a lot of experience with the cast saw.
2.) Prescriptions- The therapists can prescribe pain medicine and anti-inflammatories. I have been handing those responsibilities over to the other therapists.
3.)Traction Pins- Therapists play a big role in inserting traction pins into the limbs of children and adults for setting up traction to heal their fractures.
4.)Spica casts- They are everywhere. These casts position the patient with their leg out to their side and externally rotated. The casts typically go up the leg around the waist and part way down the other leg. Many are modified here to only include one leg to allow the patient to walk. Sitting is very difficult for these patients.
5.) Exercise- The majority of people I work with have no concept of exercise. Which makes sense, because they perform manual labor as their exercise. But the concept of continuing to bend your leg to make it be able to bend like normal seems to be a foreign strategy. They just say "it won't bend" and then don't work on it the rest of the day, despite my instruction. Then they get pretty aggravated at me at times when I make it bend, yes it hurts, but it is always the young men who get the most mad, I think it is a control issue. A huge issue with non-compliancy with exercise is my inability to speak their language. Most of the time I can get my point across with motions, broken Swahili and their broken English. Then I ask the nurse to translate the frequency of exercises, but often I wonder if the nurse understands how they really do need to do it as many times as I am telling them. The national therapist's default for frequency here is "do it 100 times a day." I'm not sure that strategy works either.
6.) Families- The families here seek me out to work with their beloved ones. After I do my initial evaluation the caregivers keep an eye out for me all day and are sure to remind me when I walk by that their child or mother or father needs to be seen. Another difference is the gratfulness the families display. It is definitely apparent. I seem to be able to bond quickly with patients and their families here. Whether it is from the guys on ortho giving me a hard time because I don't speak their language or the children beaming when I poke my head into the room, there are definitely relationships being built. I plan on blogging about Isabellah soon- she has been one of my biggest frustrations and joys on this trip.
7.) Assistive devices- They have to pay for them before they can get them. This creates a huge dilemma for me. I will train someone on crutches (which are used a lot more here than in the US) then I have to take them away until they can pay for them. Then I see my patient either laying in bed all the time when they could be walking, or walking on the limb that they are not supposed to be letting touch the ground. This is a frustration with the system.
8.) Diseases- There have been many times when the diagnosis for a patient reads malaria vs. typhoid or cva vs seizure or just plain unknown origin. Often you have to assume the patient has the worst to protect yourself from contamination. They do not have a CT scan or MRI here which makes definitive diagnoses very difficult in many cases. It doesn't effect my treatment much, just how carefully I wash my hands afterwards.
8.) The freedom to pray- There is such a joy and comfort brought to the patients by speaking the Lord's name and praying with them as they recover. Both the freedom and how comfortable it is to pray with the patients is different from the US. It has also shown me how many opportunities to pray with my patients in the US I have let pass by.
Despite the many differences between the US and here I am amazed at how God continually shows me evidence of the fact that we are all created in his image. People seem to be the same here versus America. We are all either sinners living in sin or saved by grace. There are strong, weak, tough, whiny, joyful, sad, excuse makers, and overcomers on my case load. Personalities seem to be evenly distributed, very similar to the personalities that I see in the US. I am able to bond quickly to fellow believers and have barriers to overcome with angry or resentful patients, but they all appreciate and seem to recognize genuine care.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Only skin deep
Kenyan Bible studies require a few simple ingredients - the Word, some good chai, and a group of bundled-up Kenyans complaining about how cold the evening is (as I sit with them sweating). I just got home from our weekly Bible study a few minutes ago. It is such a remarkable time to experience the Church Universal with all of its colors and backgrounds and accents.
Some things are unmistakably unique to this group. One of the Kenyan residents hails from a village renown for its witchcraft, and his comments on the impact of spiritual warfare sound strange to my American ears. Another has such a familiarity of scripture that I feel ignorant as he rattles off reference after reference and one obscure Biblical character after another. The third speaks lazily with such a thick Kenyan accent that I never quite understand what he says.
Other things are strikingly the same. I am still amazed to find that the struggles that we encounter are only "what is common to man." Despite traveling thousands of miles to a people of different skin and language and temperature-preference, we engage the same battlefields. Much of our discussion tonight centered on pride and obedience and believing the Gospel fully. They struggle in the same ways that I struggle. We fight against wanting to make a name for ourselves instead of the Lord. We grapple with living in true repentance. We wrangle the same sins of unbelief. While our skin may look different, at heart we are all the same.
*******************
When we begin a procedure in the OR, we start with a simple incision. The knife slices through a thin layer of pigmented epidermis. This shallow black layer is less than a millimeter thick. The tiny distance is actually quite baffling. Once we pass through this infinitesimal barrier, all of the rest of the tissues are absolutely identical to an American's or an Eskimo's or a politician's or an atheist's. We are made from the same "lump of clay" and face the common effects of a sinful flesh. Thanks be to God for the grace that makes all things new and unites worshipers from all tribes, tongues, and nations to sing His praise.
Some things are unmistakably unique to this group. One of the Kenyan residents hails from a village renown for its witchcraft, and his comments on the impact of spiritual warfare sound strange to my American ears. Another has such a familiarity of scripture that I feel ignorant as he rattles off reference after reference and one obscure Biblical character after another. The third speaks lazily with such a thick Kenyan accent that I never quite understand what he says.
Other things are strikingly the same. I am still amazed to find that the struggles that we encounter are only "what is common to man." Despite traveling thousands of miles to a people of different skin and language and temperature-preference, we engage the same battlefields. Much of our discussion tonight centered on pride and obedience and believing the Gospel fully. They struggle in the same ways that I struggle. We fight against wanting to make a name for ourselves instead of the Lord. We grapple with living in true repentance. We wrangle the same sins of unbelief. While our skin may look different, at heart we are all the same.
*******************
When we begin a procedure in the OR, we start with a simple incision. The knife slices through a thin layer of pigmented epidermis. This shallow black layer is less than a millimeter thick. The tiny distance is actually quite baffling. Once we pass through this infinitesimal barrier, all of the rest of the tissues are absolutely identical to an American's or an Eskimo's or a politician's or an atheist's. We are made from the same "lump of clay" and face the common effects of a sinful flesh. Thanks be to God for the grace that makes all things new and unites worshipers from all tribes, tongues, and nations to sing His praise.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Hakuna Matata in the Mara
So, it has been a childhood dream of mine to go on safari. I have always been an animal lover. My favorite movie is Lion King. I think Land Rovers are very cool. So, when time came this past weekend to make that dream a reality, I was pretty excited to say the least.
On Friday we loaded up the "mini bus" also known as a mutatu with nine other people from the guesthouse. It was truly a blessing to be able to go with this group of people. It has been amazing to see how quickly we have been able to bond with them, and we consider them great friends. Our time at Tenwek would be a very different place if they were not here. Each one of them seem to be at a transition in life similar to us, whether it be going into residency, finishing residency, or graduating from graduate programs, we all are very excited to be here, but also have big things right around the corner when we return home.
So Josh and I and our nine new friends headed down the bumpy road, amazed by how many herds of cows that we had to wait for to get out of our way, on our way to Masai Mara. About 2.5 hrs into our 3 hr drive the other van travelling with us pulled over, not because they had hit a cow, but because their tire was no longer attatched to their vehicle. So, after the tire being secured by a rope (!?) we continued on our way 30 minutes later to the reserve.
We had been told that we would be sleeping in tents at the resort. Well, these are 5 star tents. We were very pleased with our accommodations in the little oasis in the middle of no where. Yes, it was a tent, but it also had all the amenities of a hotel room. We were woken up each morning with a man saying Jambo outside our tent with our fresh personal pot of coffee. That is, he woke us up if the hippos, which were in the river below our tent didn't wake us up first (they like to migrate in around 4 am).
In total we went on 4 safaris. They were great. We drove around for 2 or 3 hrs at a time and were on the hunt for the "big 5." We saw lots of animals but the big 5 that we were looking for (the ones most dangerous to man) were the lion, leopard, rhino, elephant, and cape buffallo. We saw all but the leopard (but we saw a cheetah instead, so that counts in my book) and got lots of great pictures (thanks mom for letting us use your mega zoom camera, it worked great!). My personal goal was to see all the animals that were in the movie The Lion King, I saw them all except Timon (the Meerkat), they only have mongeese (mongooses?) in the Mara.
After Josh getting out and pushing the mutatu a couple of times through some muddy roads on Sunday, we finally made it back safe and sound. We were very tired, but ever so grateful for this amazing experience.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Smashed wasps and other dying things...
Kenya has a lot of death. A lot. When we want to brush our teeth, for instance, we boil water to kill the parasites. They all die. When Jess sees an unwelcome six-legged critter flying around our apartment, she animatedly tracks it down with wide eyes and flailing hands to kill it. When a patient's injured toes have begun to share a pungent odor of gangrene, we know that the appendage has died. When our Tenwek pediatrician has a rough day, it marks that the nasty GI plague has just claimed another baby. The count was up to eight dead babies the other week.
Death is a paradoxical thing for the Christian. Looking at it from one angle, death is the most unnatural state imaginable. After all, Adam began in the Garden as an immortal being, where death was not known. After all, we are children of the One whose very breath creates life, the Life Giver himself, who knows not decay. After all, our eternal destination is to shed these temporary bodies and live in Real Life for all time.
From the other angle, however, death is entirely natural for the Christian. In fact, it is paramount and essential. Jesus modeled it that way. To follow the path of Jesus is to follow him to the cross. He invites us - no, commands us - to join him in the shame and pain of Calvary. It seems that an inescapable feature of love is death. It dies to its own desires, it is long suffering, it does not demand its rights, it humbles itself even to death. I John 3:16 tells us how to know love - "By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers." The mark of pure love involves death.
I don't know how to do that very well. The Lord has been bombarding Jessica and I with examples and teaching from people here who die well. We heard this message recently in our Bible study and in the Sunday morning sermon. Yet when I swing out of bed in the morning, my first thought is not to crucify myself with Jesus. That would just hurt too much.
Graciously, the Lord continues to hone us. He desires that we die to ourselves and is much less concerned about our worldly comfort than we think he should be. But that is good, because comforts can distract and numb us when God would call for our full attention and complete sensation to the needs around us. It's a paradox - that we have to die in order that we might live and feel and truly be.
Death is a paradoxical thing for the Christian. Looking at it from one angle, death is the most unnatural state imaginable. After all, Adam began in the Garden as an immortal being, where death was not known. After all, we are children of the One whose very breath creates life, the Life Giver himself, who knows not decay. After all, our eternal destination is to shed these temporary bodies and live in Real Life for all time.
From the other angle, however, death is entirely natural for the Christian. In fact, it is paramount and essential. Jesus modeled it that way. To follow the path of Jesus is to follow him to the cross. He invites us - no, commands us - to join him in the shame and pain of Calvary. It seems that an inescapable feature of love is death. It dies to its own desires, it is long suffering, it does not demand its rights, it humbles itself even to death. I John 3:16 tells us how to know love - "By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers." The mark of pure love involves death.
I don't know how to do that very well. The Lord has been bombarding Jessica and I with examples and teaching from people here who die well. We heard this message recently in our Bible study and in the Sunday morning sermon. Yet when I swing out of bed in the morning, my first thought is not to crucify myself with Jesus. That would just hurt too much.
Graciously, the Lord continues to hone us. He desires that we die to ourselves and is much less concerned about our worldly comfort than we think he should be. But that is good, because comforts can distract and numb us when God would call for our full attention and complete sensation to the needs around us. It's a paradox - that we have to die in order that we might live and feel and truly be.
Easter in Africa
What a blessing this holiday has been. The remembrance and celebration of our Lord's death and resurrection has truly been a rich time here at Tenwek. Amidst the busyness of working at the hospital, spending more time with tasks than anticipated, it has been such a glorious reminder of what we are living for.
On Friday we attended a Good Friday service where we were struck by the forgotten intensity and magnitude of Christ's sacrifice. The service was wonderful, placing us in a time of reflection and sorrow for the beautiful sacrifice that was committed for our sakes. Following the service we watched the Passion of Christ. This film struck me in a new way. I literally felt nauseated and cried during much of the film, as the reality of scripture came to life. The amount of power that Jesus was withholding while he was being tortured from the time of his arrest to his death is astonishing. That is the same power that he gives to us to truly live. Josh and I returned to our apartment sorrowful but so grateful that we were being struck by the realness of the the crucifixion. I am saddened by how often I say with my actions or complaints that Christ's sacrifice is "not enough." I am so often not joyful, not content, and striving to accomplish my own salvation. I praise God for the abundant grace that he shows despite my ungratefulness.
Saturday morning we awakened extra, extra early to hike up to the top of a mountain here called Motigo to see the sunrise. It was gorgeous. We were blessed by the beauty of creation and the promise of new mercies each morning. After taking many pictures of the incredible landscape and scenery we returned. Josh headed up to the hospital to see patients and perform procedures while I did laundry and cleaned. Around 11 am we headed to the high school field to play ultimate frisbee. We were sort of short on players for the big field, so we counted Josh as 2.5 people and continued to play (Josh's team won each time despite being always down at least one man- is ultimate frisbee a spiritual gift? If so, my husband is definitely blessed with it. ) After frisbee came lunch and a short nap, followed by Josh going to the hospital again and me performing additional homemaking tasks. Me and an friend made snickerdoodle cookies to share with the guest house then walked to an unclaimed garden to pick lettuce and zucchini to make a salad to go along with our pizza night. All the fresh vegetables (which are very difficult to find) have to be washed in either bleach or chlorine before eating, so far there have been no reports of illness from the salad last night :) ). We enjoyed a night of fellowship with about 15 other guesthouse members and pizza, salad, and Boggle.
This morning Josh and I attended our first ever sunrise service. We gathered in the yard of one of the missionaries while it was still dark and welcomed the new day as we read scripture and sang praises to our God, remembering the hope found with the resurrection. It was a beautiful service which concluded with each person placing a flower on the cross as the sun rose over the mountain in front of us. Wonderful. Josh then went to the hospital to round and then we attended the regular service at nine. During the service I was very excited to look down the aisle and see a wheelchair. It was Gideon. He was sitting there among the Muzungus with a huge smile on his face. I am even more convinced that the Lord is working in his life. I doubt that he could understand much of the service, as it was in English, but he seemed very grateful to be there. His father was not with him, which makes me realize that I need to be in prayer for him during this time, especially with his illness looming.
The Galat's have graciously invited us into their home for Easter lunch. We are very excited about this opportunity to fellowship with them and have a unique lunch. We were instructed to come at 1:00 because the goat would not be done until then... I think we are having lamb also. Yes, it will be different, but I'm sure we are going to enjoy ourselves. Josh is currently trying to get tasks done at the hospital before lunch so that he will have a free afternoon. We are having company for dinner, a couple in the same position as us- 4th yr med student going into Ortho, we are looking forward to that fellowship as well. The Lord has blessed us this weekend and we hope that each of you have had or are having a wonderful Easter, savoring the magnificence of our Lord's resurrection. Happy Easter!!!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Lessons learned
So we have been here in Bomet, Kenya for one month. Time has passed very quickly and we suspect that the following month will pass by even more rapidly.
There are so many little tid bits here and there that have been discovered. Here are a few of the lessons learned after one month in Kenya:
1.) Beans take a long time to cook.
2.) "Sakuma wiki" (kale... we think) can be quite tasty and is our main source of vitamins.
3.) You have to have really strong teeth to eat sugar cane.... not I.
4.) Sunrises on hilltops in Kenya are beautiful.
45.) The connection of Christ despite nationality is so apparent and amazing.
46.) No matter how "spiritual" the setting, the disciplines of prayer and being in the Word have to be made priority and intentional. Even without as many distractions these things can easily be put on the back burner.
47.) No matter how "spiritual" the setting, my selfishness can rule, causing me to serve myself rather than having the desire to serve others.
48.) Having the title of being a "missionary" can be dangerous, we still have to show people that we need a Savior, not that we are one.
49.) I am even more aware of how blessed I am to have Josh as my husband.
50.) I need Thee every hour.
The Lord has continued to grow Josh and I in so many ways. We are getting more and more excited about the story that the Lord is writing for us. Our time here continues to expand our worlds, which also makes our God bigger, greater, more loving, and gracious. Praise God.
There are so many little tid bits here and there that have been discovered. Here are a few of the lessons learned after one month in Kenya:
1.) Beans take a long time to cook.
2.) "Sakuma wiki" (kale... we think) can be quite tasty and is our main source of vitamins.
3.) You have to have really strong teeth to eat sugar cane.... not I.
4.) Sunrises on hilltops in Kenya are beautiful.
5.) Even though English is spoken it can still be very hard to communicate.
6.) "Communication is key" even here.
7.) Air dried laundry can be stiff.
8.) Toyota Corollas can be sold as off road vehicles.
9.) Mosquitoes like showers and sinks, when they can't get to people.
10.) Mosquito nets are not that bad.
11.) There are different grades of tea, BP1 is the best, it is grown in Kenya but exported to more wealthy nations.
12.) Many Kenyans think that the US has population control- only 2 children per family.
13.) Saying you have "no children" means that you are barren (so I have lots of children, but just not born yet....)
14.) Our refrigerator here works better than the one in Lexington (thanks to the Lindemann's for taking care of our broken fridge mess last week!)
7.) Air dried laundry can be stiff.
8.) Toyota Corollas can be sold as off road vehicles.
9.) Mosquitoes like showers and sinks, when they can't get to people.
10.) Mosquito nets are not that bad.
11.) There are different grades of tea, BP1 is the best, it is grown in Kenya but exported to more wealthy nations.
12.) Many Kenyans think that the US has population control- only 2 children per family.
13.) Saying you have "no children" means that you are barren (so I have lots of children, but just not born yet....)
14.) Our refrigerator here works better than the one in Lexington (thanks to the Lindemann's for taking care of our broken fridge mess last week!)
15.) Chai does not mean spiced tea, it means tea boiled with milk and lots of sugar.
16.) Do not get injured at 10:30 AM, as all of the hospital workers will be observing Chai time.
17.) People everywhere appreciate care.
18.) People can threaten lawsuits even in Kenya.. (I had an unhappy wealthy teenager as a patient).
19.) Prayer is powerful.
20.) Everyone wants you to come to their home, no matter if it is 4 hrs away.
21.) The US really is odd with not using metric units.
22.) Medicine is such an easy field to love on people.
23.) You can definitely serve with a bad attitude.
24.) It is much more fun to serve for the sake of others instead of for your own purposes.
25.) We are dependent on our computers.
16.) Do not get injured at 10:30 AM, as all of the hospital workers will be observing Chai time.
17.) People everywhere appreciate care.
18.) People can threaten lawsuits even in Kenya.. (I had an unhappy wealthy teenager as a patient).
19.) Prayer is powerful.
20.) Everyone wants you to come to their home, no matter if it is 4 hrs away.
21.) The US really is odd with not using metric units.
22.) Medicine is such an easy field to love on people.
23.) You can definitely serve with a bad attitude.
24.) It is much more fun to serve for the sake of others instead of for your own purposes.
25.) We are dependent on our computers.
26.) Pictures fascinate children.
27.) Wealth is often determined by the number of cows you own.
28.) Areas are characterized by what they grow, Kentucky's tobacco is not that impressive of a crop to the Kenyans, and they don't understand the concept of "growing horses."
29.) We live on a lot more than we "need."
30.) You really can appreciate each day being beautiful.
31.) Chameleons make great pets.
32.) Faith is displayed in various fashions, but it is awesome to see the signature of God on it all.
33.) Education goes a long way.
28.) Areas are characterized by what they grow, Kentucky's tobacco is not that impressive of a crop to the Kenyans, and they don't understand the concept of "growing horses."
29.) We live on a lot more than we "need."
30.) You really can appreciate each day being beautiful.
31.) Chameleons make great pets.
32.) Faith is displayed in various fashions, but it is awesome to see the signature of God on it all.
33.) Education goes a long way.
34.) Napkins work as coffee filters.
35.) You can make tea in the coffee maker.
36.) Coffee and tea mixed together does not taste very good.
37.) Saying, "Praise God," after accomplishments goes a long way with sharing God's love with people.
38.) Easter is much more of a holiday here, most workers get Friday and Monday off.
39.) Pangas (machetes) are used for much more destructive things than clearing the bush.
40.) You can't tell people to "put ice on it." Refrigeration is not common.
41.) Many of the hospital workers do not have electricity in their homes.
42.) There are several people named Barack Obama. Baraka means "blessing."
43.) Most of the residents here have never been outside of their region.
44.) Running in a skirt is doable.
35.) You can make tea in the coffee maker.
36.) Coffee and tea mixed together does not taste very good.
37.) Saying, "Praise God," after accomplishments goes a long way with sharing God's love with people.
38.) Easter is much more of a holiday here, most workers get Friday and Monday off.
39.) Pangas (machetes) are used for much more destructive things than clearing the bush.
40.) You can't tell people to "put ice on it." Refrigeration is not common.
41.) Many of the hospital workers do not have electricity in their homes.
42.) There are several people named Barack Obama. Baraka means "blessing."
43.) Most of the residents here have never been outside of their region.
44.) Running in a skirt is doable.
45.) The connection of Christ despite nationality is so apparent and amazing.
46.) No matter how "spiritual" the setting, the disciplines of prayer and being in the Word have to be made priority and intentional. Even without as many distractions these things can easily be put on the back burner.
47.) No matter how "spiritual" the setting, my selfishness can rule, causing me to serve myself rather than having the desire to serve others.
48.) Having the title of being a "missionary" can be dangerous, we still have to show people that we need a Savior, not that we are one.
49.) I am even more aware of how blessed I am to have Josh as my husband.
50.) I need Thee every hour.
The Lord has continued to grow Josh and I in so many ways. We are getting more and more excited about the story that the Lord is writing for us. Our time here continues to expand our worlds, which also makes our God bigger, greater, more loving, and gracious. Praise God.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Days of surgery
"Make the incision and find your starting point," instructed Dr. Galat before handing me the scalpel. I hesitated for a second, as I had never before slid a blade through a patient's skin. Then with a quick prayer I glided the scalpel across the imaginary line he had drawn and watched the skin part beneath its stroke. My first incision.... I have grown tremendously in my Orthopedic experience since being here at Tenwek Hospital. The medical experience for me has been beyond what I could ever have imagined. Some of the procedures that Dr. Galat leads me through would not be taught until several years into residency. More than that, I am growing in my understanding of the principles of orthopedics.
Some very interesting cases come to Tenwek. I will offer
you just a taste. About a week ago, a man arrived unconscious after being attacked by Maasai warriors. He had a splintered arrow lodged in his neck (see the xray), a panga (machete) wound that severed his extensor tendons on his left hand, an open elbow, and another deep head wound that showing that the blade had cleaved an inch deep into his brain. By the Lord's abundant grace, and several trips to the "theatre", that man is now doing quite well. Another case - a woman came into clinic with a large, oozing, smelly, black mass on the side of her heel. Feeling a baseball sized lymph node in her groin made malignant melanoma the most likely diagnosis. Her prognosis is very poor. Another case - a man arrived after falling and hurting his elbow. The X-rays we obtained showed an old fracture / dislocation of his right elbow with a new fracture of his ulna. Inquiring about his past history, we found that he had injured his elbow badly 3 years ago and never sought treatment. It is remarkable how long people will go without seeking medical care. He was only able to bend his elbow about 10 degrees for the past three years. Tomorrow we are forced to fuse his elbow at 90 degrees, the most functional position.But the greatest privilege of working at Tenwek has been seeing the spiritual concerns of each patient as the highest priority. Before every incision, for example, the whole OR staff stops and prays over the patient, acknowledging our helplessness and dependence on the Lord for any real healing to occur. When patients face terminal diagnoses (like the woman with melanoma), the conversation always turns toward their eternal destination. Prayer for patients is a frequent treatment that halts rounds even on the busiest of mornings. We rejoice over patient's progress as the Lord's work, and we mourn with their families when the effects of this sinful world overwhelm our medical care. Without question, the motto posted outside Tenwek Hospital is being lived out every day - "We treat, Jesus heals." I am learning a ton and loving every minute of it.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Time flies when you're having firsts....
Where did the week go? That was the question that I was asking myself starting Thursday. This past week was full of more learning, new experiences, and demonstrations of how the Lord is at work.
The majority of the week I worked at the hospital, where it seemed that each day I was doing something new. Monday, I helped the team apply three hip spica casts to children. Wednesday, I cut off my first cast and trimmed another. Thursday, I helped place traction pins into a patient. Friday, I took out my first set of sutures, turned in my plans for the standing frame to be built for the hospital, and introduced plastic wrap to their wound care technique to enable a form of moist dressing. Another first that has been a huge blessing is being able to work so closely with Josh. When he is not in the operating room, he is on the ortho ward, where a large percentage of my day is spent. It is great that we have been able to work as a team in this capacity and encourage each other.
On Tuesday I met the 7th place finisher in the ’97 Boston Marathon, made a lot of babies cry, and rode a passenger van over dune buggy trails for 2 hours. All of these things were accomplished on my Community Health outing. I have been interested in public health and figured that this would be a good way to investigate that interest a bit further. So, on Tuesday morning a group of about seven of us (5 Kenyan, 2 American) headed out in the Land Rover….. until it broke down about a tenth of a mile up the road. So we came back to Tenwek and waited about an hour until we could get the Tenwek passenger van. We eventually left and headed toward the villages that were expecting us that day.
I am very impressed by the organization and effectiveness of the Community Health team. They visit a different set of villages each day and then return one month later on the same day of the week. The clinics administer vaccinations to babies and expectant mothers, Depo shots, free HIV testing to expectant mothers, education on how to not spread HIV through delivery, antenatal/perinatal examinations, and post delivery check ups. The mothers are educated on when to come back to receive the needed treatment for themselves and their children. Many mothers walk for several hours to make it to these clinics.
So, if you haven’t guessed it already, my “firsts” experience for Tuesday was giving immunizations! After watching a few times, Edward, the nurse who was with me at this clinic handed me the needle and bottle and said “you try.” I tried to play it as cool as possible and then successfully gave my first shot. I learned the difference in subcutaneous vs. intramuscular and got the approval from Edward on my shot skills. I gave several babies vaccinations and of course they started wailing.
As we were leaving the clinic I noticed a large group of school children standing near the entrance waiting for us to come out. Edward said they were purely trying to catch a glimpse of the muzungu (white person). In fact a group of about 20 of them walked a quarter mile with us down the road just out of curiosity. On the drive home I was sitting in the front with the window down and I would here “Muzu…..” followed by several screams and little children turning to look at our van. Edward explained that it might have been the first time several of them had ever seen a white person. Yes, I felt like a celebrity.
Each day this past week I have been greeted with Gideon’s beautiful smile and excited eyes. He now tries to race me in his wheelchair every time I pass him in the hospital. He will reach for my hand for the traditional shake as a greeting, but then he holds on, feeling of each finger and not wanting to let go. He definitely has a new light in his eyes and I only wonder what the Lord is doing in his life. His father asked me for a Bible for him this past week. I was thrilled to be able to get him one in Kipsigis, his own language. I have seen him in the chapel several times watching the Jesus Film with some other children. Even though a language barrier exists I can still see that the Lord is working in him in some way. This urges me to pray all the more for him and his unknown future. He continues to have disabilities and a father who will eventually die of HIV/AIDS, leaving him an orphan. I take great peace in the knowledge that our Lord is sovereign over everything, especially things such as these. Gideon was discharged last week but remains at the hospital because his father has been unable to pay the bill (much different than the U.S.). His father explained that relatives would come soon with money so they would be able to return home, but in the meantime he was sure to tell me to “come see your child.”
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