my sweet sojourn

Wait+Hope

2011-08-02T00:17:00.003-05:00

out of the depths i cry to you, O Lord!

O Lord, hear my voice!

let your ears be attentive

to the voice of my please for mercy!

if you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,

O Lord, who could stand?

but with you there is forgiveness,

that you may be feared.

i wait for the Lord, my soul waits,

and in his word i hope;

my soul waits for the Lord

more than watchmen for the morning

more than watchmen for the morning.

O Israel, hope in the Lord!

for with the Lord there is steadfast love,

and with him is plentiful redemption.
-psalm 130

It isn't "God will do what you want when you want."

It isn't "You are in control."

It isn't "Hope in what you or anyone else can do."

It's "Wait for God and hope in His word."

Because His love does not change or go away or demand anything in exchange.

Because He is aboundingly generous in redeeming things broken.

Maybe not always how I want Him to.

But when we get to the end of this road, I know I will turn and say "Oh - I see it now."

A few nights ago I asked God why.

Same as the day Pierre was rushed to the hospital barely clinging to life.

Same as the day cholera claimed an unknown baby boy.

Same as the day I found Marie dying on the floor.

I don't ask why because I doubt him.

I ask why because I don't understand how He redeems things so awful.

And somedays we just won't understand the way we selfishly want to.

Tomorrow Zion will have a VP shunt placed to drain the fluid that is putting too much pressure on his brain.

Tomorrow we ask for your prayers. The support and encouragement to this point is dumbfounding.

Tomorrow we will be reminded, no matter the outcome, that these words in Colossians are true.

all things were created through him and for him.

and he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

for in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell,

and through him to reconcile to himself all things,

whether on earth or in heaven,

making peace by the blood of his cross.

-colossians 1

Tomorrow, just like every day, God will be quieting us with His love. He will be drawing us near. He will be working all things together for the good of His child Zion. He loves us so lavishly; may we wait and hope in Him.

Rah Rah Ramblings

2011-07-16T17:46:00.004-05:00

In a whirlwind chain of events, I made the decision to move to Kansas City. When I drove in Thursday night two weeks ago, I went straight (practically) to "work", which basically consisted of hanging out with my two (now two of my three) favorite boys.

Since my arrival we have spent much time swimming, bowling, visiting the hospital (not for either of them!), eating ice cream, frozen yogurt, brownies, cookies, candies, and snow cones, and watching The Chipmunk Adventure. It's still as good today as it was when I was 6.

I moved so suddenly because my brother and his wife had become parents a third time, this time to our very precious Zion Jeremiah Parsons, born 11 weeks too early (he's still supposed to be in the womb, people!) But this little trooper has proved to us all that he is a fighter, and yesterday he came home! You can read more of their journey to Zion and his story here.

Besides these major markers, my last two and a half weeks have also held:

Trader Joe's opening in Kansas City. I braved the crowds today and came back with some vanilla yogurt. Now I can say "I was there when..."
Moving into a new place. Can't say for how long - but I put my metalworks purchases on the walls. I am thinking about unrolling my rug.
Peter Bradley Adams' Between Us

On next week's agenda:

HP7-2
Official Trader Joe's shopping spree
Applying for jobs 16, 17, 18, and so on.

I think I need a job.

shelter

2011-07-12T21:25:00.003-05:00

in the arms of the good Father

you can go to the deep water

where the questions we have left unspoken

come out in the open

we will find shelter here

so i lay down what i cannot hold in my hands

every sorrow and hope spinning out of control

and here i find sweet resolution comes in letting go

and we will find shelter here

when i look back i can see

and when i am old i'll remember these things

like a mountain of stone

and the longing that makes me believe

there is a tree by the blue river

where the shade stretches wide over

in this breaking we are hand and glove

we will find shelter here

- sandra mccracken

start again

2011-07-01T12:08:00.003-05:00

I tend to spend too much money on music. Thank goodness for Noisetrade and Daytrotter, or I would surely be broke. How behind am I on The Head and The Heart? Just found their CD for $7 on iTunes. Totally worth it. If you haven't listened, go! If you have, humor me!

For those of you who know me a little better, I booked my first counseling session today. It's been a long time coming - I'm ready.

I have a job interview next week - it's encouraging to feel like I may actually have a shot at being employed. Seeing as how I took over my student loans for good, I need to be making money soon.

I met the newest addition to the Parsons/McElroy clan yesterday - Zion. I can't get over him. He has the most perfect mouth. In Charlie Brown O shape 80% of the time. Eeeeeee!

Today is the first day in my new old home. It's good to be back.

uncharted

2011-06-27T17:28:00.004-05:00

When I moved to Kansas City in 2003, I was just turning 15. It took me 5 years to soften to the city. I remember walking down on the Plaza as a 15 year old and being told it was far too dangerous to be there after dark. [Insert comical chuckle here]

In the 7 years of Kansas City living, I moved back and forth from Colorado, Washington, and Haiti. Two graduations later, I was packing all things to go to Colorado for a final stop. I packed two bags and got on a plane to Haiti.

Now I'm back. I can't for the life of me figure out what just happened in 2010-2011. I've found myself shutting down, pulling back, and just wanting to give the majority of the world a figurative (or literal?) F you. Pretty, eh?

When I went to Kansas City last week I met up with friends from years ago. I found myself surrounded with hugs and love and smiles and laughs. At the end of every day I sat on a couch in a silent house with two sleeping brothers upstairs. In that silence I tried to numb myself with television and internet browsing to keep out the fear and the images that just won't go away.

I've had to decide what to do next. In some ways, it was paralyzing. But driving the streets of Kansas City helped. Hearing a familiar voice from a pulpit that had carried me through a year of confusion and exhaustion helped. Snuggles and giggles from aforementioned brothers helped.

As I drove through Colorado the next few days, I found my answer. Go. Get over the need to be independent and brave. Go back and be broken and silent and transparent. Go, heal, process, heal, break, heal.

Two days are all that separate me. 8 years after my first move, I'm doing it again. This time without the neurotic cat and puffy eyes. This time around, crossing that state line will be more sweet than bitter.

Stuff

2011-06-25T21:49:00.003-05:00

Today I started going through all of my belongings and doing the annual life transition sort and discard. I found my chemistry test from college I will never throw away because I got 104%. I found my test scores from Adult Health which I did throw away because, really, who wants to remember that? I found my New Member Bunny clock from my first sorority formal. Sorry ZTA - it's on its way to Goodwill.

I'm always in trouble when I come across the toys. My parents wouldn't let me watch Toy Story II when they give away the toys and they feel abandoned because they knew I would take that as reality. I remember the Jungle Animals on Christmas morning. I remember waiting in line at Toys For The Fun Of It for Beanie Babies (cats only, of course). And the countless hours Becca and I spent with Littlest Pet Shop animals, each with specific names. My mom marveled at how we could know every name for every animal and not know more than 5 president names. I still don't see the problem.

I am amazed by how I can live out of two suitcases for a year and come back to so much stuff. I hope I can get rid of a lot of this, but my sentimentality seems to be getting in the way.

Something to work on. Acknowledgement is the first step in changing, right. Right?

More is More

2011-05-21T10:53:00.003-05:00

Every time I fly out of Haiti, I look forward to two things in flight: free mini Toblerone and in-flight entertainment. Call me extravagant - I love free episodes of Park and Rec and The Office and 30 Rock and Community. Thursday was no different - I gobbled up my delicious Swiss chocolate and almonds and settled in.

What a rude awakening to have the entertainment peppered with this man and his commercials. As I flew out over people living on one meal a day if lucky, under tarps that are battered by rain and wind and sun and dust, eating chocolate and going back to the place I will always be able to return.

I've now seen the commercial on three flights and heard it between news programs. Welcome back to America, Sarah. Enjoy your stay. And have another chocolate.

Cheri

2011-05-20T10:31:00.006-05:00

This morning I woke up to mountains outside my window. I woke up under quilts and down comforters, wrapped in warm clothes. I drank a cup of coffee and tried to wrap my mind around leaving mosquitos and warmth and waves and wake up calls of goats and roosters just a day ago. In the coming weeks I expect I will be decompressing and reflecting here. I am ready to withdraw for a while, but I need somewhere to write and wrestle with a lot of this.

I will be the first one to tell you that I have the best friends in the entire world. Growing up I shared best friends with my older sister Becca. The four of us would spend our days playing in dental offices, having hands and knees races, watching the same 3 movies, walking to Texaco for Nerds and Kwenchers, and eventually seeing each other maybe once or twice a year.

When I went to college I found myself surrounded, only by the goodness of God, by friends that lived life so transparently, so vulnerably, with me. They are the kind of friends that drop anything to see you. They are the kind of friends who share their beds and their food and their cars. They are generous and full of love and life.

When I went to Haiti, I had no idea what I was in for. I had no idea the friends I would make in a year. I had no idea what God had in store for me.

But I knew that I would have a best friend in Diana. She is, and always will be, my cheri. She is a friend unlike any I have or will ever have. We bonded over failed cookies, broken Creole, Step Up, sharing music, and dancing. And when I moved to Haiti full time a year ago, I sat down with her two hours after landing and wept. After 9 months apart, it only took 2 hours to be ready to break over my circumstances in front of her.

We rarely spent time apart in the last year. It felt weird to go 12 hours without seeing her. And now I am going on 30 hours away from Diana. I'm not sure how to adjust.

Diana is impressive. In our year living together, I have seen how much people around her are drawn to her, especially in times of weariness or pain. Diana's home is for many people an escape. She is welcoming with her couches, good music, and cold water (or ji, if you're lucky). She is a continuous stream of positive energy. Her personality matches the bright colors she loves and uses in her house. She is sentimental, keeping small trinkets to remind her of particular moments. She knows how to live life, how to pull every single moment out and savor it. She will tell you she can't cook - she lies. Diana is like the sun, warm and inviting. She's a wise sage and a young spirit. She's someone you have to meet to really "get".

I am incredibly blessed by all of my friends. The Lord has so faithfully and intentionally put good people on my path. God knew what He was doing when He ordered my steps in Haiti and prepared a place for me there. He knew how desperately I would need a safe community, and He provided me with Diana. I know that if we were in the US or Canada, we would still be friends. But Haiti is now so tangled within our friendship, I can't untie the two. Leaving Haiti is as hard as leaving Diana, but that's because they go hand in hand.

I have left Haiti full time, and with that I have transitioned back to limited face time with Diana. And while that tempts me to tears and grief, I am going to try and instead thank the Lord for giving us our time together.

Cheri - I miss you a million already. Way more than the king bed. And only you know that's saying something.

tears and mercy

2011-05-10T22:02:00.003-05:00

i know, o Lord, that Your rules are righteous,

and that in faithfulness you have afflicted me.

let your steadfast love comfort me

according to your promise to your servant.

let your mercy come to me, that i may live;

for your law is my delight.

- psalm 119:77

by thy birth, thy cross, and passion;

by thy tears of deep compassion,

by thy mighty intercession,

Lord and Savior, help us.

- Henry Alford

And the only way you can rejoice in sufferings

is if you find your hope in the sufferings of Jesus

over anything anybody can take away from you here.

- Kevin Cawley

other views of haiti

2011-04-17T19:37:00.002-05:00

This weekend we took a trip to Jacmel, on the southern coast of Haiti. It was an entirely new set of sites.

ti moulliage beach, cayes-jacmel

bassin-bleu

bay of jacmel

ten months

2011-04-01T12:58:00.002-05:00

Ten months ago I put myself on a plane to Haiti for the third time. I remember what I ate that morning in the Miami airport, what I was wearing, how I was feeling. And I was ready to be there. There were so many things I was ready to be away from.

I had an afternoon to get settled in and I started working the next day. Two days after that, my training time was over and we've been running ever since. [With some breaks in between!]

After the busyness of surgical weeks ended and we transitioned into solely outpatient clinic weeks again, we took some breaths. I got to know more about the clinic staff, about their families. They got to know me. We had our disagreements. Sometimes being the only consistent North American helping with patient care felt like nails on a chalk board.

Today I was told by our supply man and chaplain that our administrator needed to see me urgently. I hurried into his office and he looked at me like I was crazy. Then everyone burst out laughing and explained that it was April Fools.

I love these people. I love them all so much. They have embraced me in as a member of the clinic family.

So today when I sat with the administrator and told him I was leaving next month I had to hold back my tears. When I sit in the ER and speak in Creole with a patient explaining why we're making him stay all day, when I listen to pranks and jokes being thrown around by staff members, when Dr Jennifer calls me crazy and then asks me for Wheat Thins or gum, I'm reminded of just how much I love where I have worked these past ten months.

I don't know the where and when yet. But I am leaving in May sometime, and it is right. But it will be so very, very hard to do. But as I have explained time and time again in the last week, there's no getting rid of me in these parts.

I'll be back.

florida can't handle me

2011-03-16T02:43:00.005-05:00

Once again. On my way to Haiti. This time I am spending the night in Ft. Lauderdale...in the airport. So worth the saved 60 dollars.

I've actually had a lot of fun. I have gotten multiple phone calls from friends around the time zones. I've tried to learn all the words to "Club Can't Handle Me". Each time I listen to it I am ready to break out a flash mob with the three other people in the airport. I watched an episode of Detroit something, something. I downloaded a free hour trial of Bejeweled 3 - but it stressed me out to try and beat the times.

Why do they abbreviate Fort to Ft.?

I have only met one creepy person. He has tended to follow me fairly closely, so I am choosing to stay awake and sit in an open area with other people. And keep my headphones in. And avoid eye contact. He has the same shoes as me which doesn't help for avoiding conversations as no one else seems to have them.

In other news, I was featured in Samaritan's Purse's annual send out to people about Operation Christmas Child. I mean, it was just a picture. But I was surprised as I didn't have SP scrubs on, and most all their media only shows people in their clothes. But I'll take it. I'm right next to Franklin Graham. Moving up in the world. I also haven't actually seen it, just a pixelated version on my phone courtesy of Christi Florida (shout out!).

The occupancy in the airport has tripled in ten minutes. Guess it's time to get up and moving. I'm thankful for this little corner of the airport with a plug and lots of open floor. I did wind up on the floor all night. No sleeps, just all out solo entertainment. Haiti here I come - leave the king bed open for me.

Faces of Bercy

2011-03-03T17:52:00.007-06:00

This has been a busy week. Mission of Hope was recently donated a Clinic in a Can to run mobile clinics out of at our Bercy property - and Annie came to visit!!!

We must support 3 Cords!

Timid little conductor man!

Sweetest Lucien!

...and chunkiest little man!

I think I'll be advocating for Bercy clinics as often as possible!

snapshots

2011-02-26T21:03:00.003-06:00

Some most recent moments captured that remind me why I love where I live.

a hard rain's gonna fall

2011-02-21T21:10:00.002-06:00

the rumble is low and the heat is high

got a feeling that there's rain out in the oil black sky

feels her sweat in the ground and the burn in her nose

and the knowing in her gut something's still gonna grow

she ain't leaving til it does

It's the dry season here. The rain slowly tapers off, the humidity dies down. The weather gets more comfortable. Everything turns brown. The colors fade. The dust is worse.

We've gotten into a pattern. We don't put the buckets out all day in case the rain comes and we aren't home. We don't think about walking to dinner in the rain. We can go into the mountains and not worry about beating storms down or getting stuck as an alternative.

Things have ceased to grow. I have ceased to grow. My heart is dry and faded and worn.

Tonight, a change is beginning to come. I, in my stubborn nature, am resistant. I am complacent and don't want to move away from this rusty cage.

Two hard rains have fallen this week. And another one is brewing. Rain to wake me and shake me.

and after the storm,

i run and run as the rains come

and i look up.

on my knees and out of luck,

i look up.

...

you must know life to see decay.

one foot down

2011-02-01T14:35:00.003-06:00

everybody had one good year,

everybody let their long hair down,

everybody had one bad dream,

everybody saw the bright sun shine.

everybody had one hard year,

everybody had a real good time,

everybody pulled one sock up,

everybody put one foot down.

- peter bradley adams

Thoughts From My Day

2010-12-15T16:29:00.003-06:00

I never knew I could be SO cold in Haiti. Shivered the night and morning away - it was a good feeling.

"I want you" is not a good pick up line, random-man-in-the-airport. In fact, your lack of respect for me and women in general makes me so angry so please take my rude responses offensively and leave me alone.

This poor kid in the seat next to me is shivering on the plane and has no coat. Wish I had one to offer him.

Florida will always be tainted for me because my only experiences in the state revolve around customs.

The American Airlines lady in Fort Lauderdale renews my hope in kindness. I bet she has kids. [She rebooked my seat several times to get me the best seats possible on my new flights to Denver - and was genuinely interested in the people around her.]

Did they announce anything in Haiti?

I wish I was getting to Colorado a little earlier.

Remember that cardigan in the closet? I can't wait to wear it.

Obesity. I sort of forgot it existed.

These french fries taste so good.

I miss Haitian coffee.

Things are changing around me, and I can't seem to keep up. I wish things would slow down.

Will I be able to put in an IV in a month?

Who is going to staff the cholera clinics on Christmas day?

Dear Lord, please heal Pierre.

I hope it doesn't snow too much tonight so I can see a dentist tomorrow.

I love wearing jeans.

Will I remember Creole when I get back?

Birth certificate, check. Passport, nope. Letters, nope. Paperwork, nope. Money, nope. That means no medical visa - when will Alix get to the States?

I feel...weary.

I feel...guilty.

It's so fun to track people's planes!

Florida has a pretty orange sky for a sunset tonight.

Ache.

little lion man

2010-11-29T08:41:00.003-06:00

Kari, Myself, and Pierre

Our little man Pierre, just a few weeks ago. He is stronger and has beaten every odd and obstacle put in front of him. He is a mighty little man. But he's sick, and without any definite diagnosis, we are not sure when he can be released from the hospital. We rushed him there Saturday and have not gotten many answers since.

Pray for Pierre that we may best care for him in this time.

a lot of pain and a little joy

2010-11-20T05:38:00.004-06:00

Sometimes I spend my nights reading about Haiti. I read news articles and blogs from people on the ground. Sometimes I see such a small picture - I don't know what all is happening. And I need the reminders that other people see and agonize over the same things and in the same way as we do here. One of the blogs I read is written by another nurse working for a different hospital. Jessica wrote a few weeks ago about a conversation with a Haitian doctor who put the way of life here for the majority of Haitians into words so well:

"For them everything is a fight. It's a fight for food, a fight to get on the tap-tap going in the right direction. A fight to sell every piece of fruit and every soda. It's a fight to survive . . . She said they get so used to fighting everyday that their entire life a

nd attitude becomes just like that, a battle."

Put yourself in that place for a moment. You have a broken cooler full of pop bottles in a market packed with people selling the same things, but all united under the same idea - I must sell all of this so my family can eat tonight. Or maybe so I can take my child who has had a fever for 8 days to the doctor. Or maybe so I can buy purified water to drink so my family isn't forced to drink from the canals of water filled with trash and waste.

This is the way of life here. This is the way of life in the majority of the world.

Add onto that tent cities, flooding, cholera, political unrest and riots, cholera, skyrocketing food prices, cholera, lack of education, cholera.

Of course it is survival mode here. People are too busy trying to keep their heads above water to try and plan for rebuilding or moving forward.

I spent Thursday of this last week in a cholera treatment center a few minutes north of Mission of Hope. I took our medical team as it was a Haitian holiday and our clinic was closed. We pulled up to tents and the smell of bleach and human waste. The center was so well run but overrun. The staff there thanked me over and over for bringing the few people I could to help, saying for the first time in 10 days they have felt like they had almost enough people to treat all 180-200 patients they see a day.

I had eight patients I oversaw with the off and on help of a Haitian nurse. It's a delicate guessing game of "How much fluid does this person need?" How sunken are their eyes? How many times in the last hour have they sat up and vomited or had diarrhea? One little girl had an IO and an NG to try and replace fluid. I was put in that tent so I would ensure that every 10 minutes I put 20 mL of ORS into her NG. Between those ten minutes it was replacing IV bags, encouraging every patient to drink ORS every ten minutes, washing hands, documenting, and then it was time to repeat.

My small victory of the day was seeing the girl sit up. We pulled her IO and her NG, put in an IV, and got her taking ORS orally. But she was still vomiting and having diarrhea - she was not in the clear yet.

Each person in that camp was fighting. The patients were fighting to physically survive. The workers were fighting to get through another day, to keep everyone alive. The news articles that cover the story cannot accurately put that into words. You cannot understand cholera until you see its victims.

And in the midst of this, the everyday still occurs. Babies are still being born. People are still diagnosed with TB. People are still malnourished. Accidents happen. Health care is now being stretched thinner and thinner throughout Haiti. And this week I have seen it, and I can see the storm clouds growing darker and darker. With more cholera means less hospital care. With more Port-au-Prince cases comes less room for the everyday cases to go.

But beauty has not perished here. Wounds are still healing, or at least improving. A 30 minute session with a mom and newborn baby teaching breastfeeding has seen the cessation of the baby's seizures and the growth of his little belly. And perhaps the most encouraging thing of all:

CLERMOND IS WALKING!

What joy that sight brings. I only wish that joy could be infectious too.

Lespwa

2010-10-31T09:00:00.003-05:00

Some friends of mine have formed an organization called Lespwa Means Hope - and I now blog for them as well! Be sure to follow what they are doing alongside Mission of Hope, follow them on their tour if you live in a city they are visiting, and go read the blogs!

www.lespwameanshope.org

I have blogged about cholera there - it's been an insane week and I hope to update here soon.

a song for every one of us

2010-10-21T19:22:00.003-05:00

Growing up in church, we were taught that Jesus was the answer to all our problems. We were taught that there was a circle-shaped hole in our heart and that we had tried to fill it with the square pegs of sex, drugs, and rock and roll; but only the circle peg of Jesus could fill our hole. I became a Christian based, in part, on that promise, but the hole never really went away. To be sure, I like Jesus, and I still follow him, but the idea that Jesus will make everything better is a lie. It's basically biblical theology translated into the language of infomercials. The truth is, the apostles never really promise Jesus is going to make everything better here on earth. Can you imagine an infomercial with Paul, testifying to the amazing product of Jesus, saying that he once had power and authority, and since he tried Jesus he's been moved from prison to prison, beaten, and routinely bitten by snakes? I don't think many people would be buying that product. Peter couldn't do any better. He was crucified upside down, by some reports. Stephen was stoned outside the city gates. John, supposedly, was boiled in oil. It's hard to imagine how a religion steeped in so much pain and sacrifice turned into a promise for earthly euphoria. I think Jesus can make things better, but I don't think he is going to make things perfect. Not here, and not now.

I find myself caught in the idea of our stories. We all tell stories with our lives, and along the way we intersect with other stories that will forever stick with us. Most recently, in living in Haiti, I am intersecting with entirely different sorts of stories. They are wrenching and beautiful and painful and altogether astounding. They have faces: a dying 17 year old boy, the man with the feet, the baby with seizures. They have names: Clermond, Pierre, Alexandre, and now - Alix.

About 15 minutes from Mission of Hope you can find a boy named Alix. He is 14 years old, and six months ago he fell on his chin and fractured his jaw upward. Since that day he has been unable to open his mouth. Living in extreme pain, he has eaten through a straw every day for six months and speaks words through clenched teeth.

Once again, the same problems. Not enough resources, not enough access, not enough education. And once again, I find myself asking the same question: "Why God do these things keep happening?"

And that is essentially all God says to Job. God doesn't explain pain philosophically or even list its benefits. God says to Job, Job, I know what I am doing, and this whole thing isn't about you.

Alix saw a dentist in our clinic who was so broken over his case that he went home, asked an oral surgeon friend to help, and set up a surgical team to return to Haiti in order to take care of Alix's case, as well as other maxillofacial surgeries. The dentist and his dentist wife (power couple!) covered all of the costs and after many weeks, I sent Alix and his mother with the money to buy bus tickets for the 5 hours journey to the hospital. I could not help but celebrate - Alix was finally getting proper care.

I received an e-mail from my contact at the other hospital tonight - Alix's surgery is too risky. They will be unable to preform the operation. He needs to go to the States in order to have the appropriate treatment done.

I found myself surprisingly more upset than I would have expected. I think of Alix and his mother, so thankful for the idea that the end of this trauma was in sight. I think of the delays, of getting passports, of the letters that need to be written, of the longer wait. I think of the disappointment.

What I love about the true gospel of Jesus, though, is that it offers hope. Paul has hope our souls will be made complete. It will happen in heaven, when there will be a wedding and a feast. I wonder if that's why so many happy stories end in weddings and feasts. Paul says Jesus is the hope that will not disappoint. I find that comforting. That helps me get through the day, to be honest. It even makes me content somehow. Maybe that's what Paul meant when he said he'd learned the secret of contentment.

I say it often, but I have to remember that the story does not end here. The mouth of injustice may be gaping, but it will not remain that way. This too shall pass, and this too shall be made right.

The pain made the city more beautiful. The story made us different characters than if we'd showed up at the ending an easier way. It made me think about the hard lives so many people have had, the sacrifices they've endured, and how those people will see heaven differently from those of us who have had easier lives.

Amen.

All above italicized excerpts were taken from Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.

show me a place where hope is young

2010-10-15T13:47:00.005-05:00

There are some days here where I find myself wondering how on earth I got myself into this position. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't have me anywhere else. I love what I get to be a part of here. I love the cast of characters I work with and live among.

Today I had a knock on my door and there was a Red Cross representative. She has come often to get supplies the hospital she works for needs. We chatted pleasantries as I walked her up to our supply tent. She informed me she would be leaving next week for good, moving on to a Red Cross hospital in Pakistan.

I asked what supplies she needed.

Gloves. Syringes. Needles. Sheets. Basics.

My mind went back to Price Chopper in Kansas City. Every check out line with Donate to Red Cross opportunities - money being given by people left and right. Millions and millions donated to them. Like everyone else is asking now, where did all the money go?

They have supplies. In containers. In port. In customs. Unreleased. Why? Who knows? The reason could change every day. Now they are hoping to bring supplies through the DR but that will take weeks.

A multitude of problems.

That also doesn't stop me from asking where all the corruption is - is the Red Cross money being put to good use? Is it being used to finance salaries of US side jobs? And if so - is that taking away from basic supplies for medical care?

So I found myself helping her load boxes of gloves into the back of her truck. We dug through to find needles and syringes and sterile gloves size 7&1/2. We talked about how everyone needs supplies and the need in Pakistan and in Haiti. I bid her farewell, wished her luck as she left.

For the problems being as large as they are, this place is a very personal one. Anytime I meet another medical worker in Haiti, we swap numbers and e-mails, say what resources we have, and try and connect people with each other. Survival here is in many ways all about who you know.

So today I put in a call to ask a favor. It involves a helicopter. Flying hours north of us. To get a 14 year old who has been unable to eat for 6 months surgery. I promise to keep you posted on what happens.

And these past few days I am being constantly reminded of this:

Whatever your hand finds to do,

do it with your might.

Ecclesiastes 9:10

Whether it's digging literal needles out of a metaphorical haystack or flying a young man to a once-in-a-lifetime surgery, do it with your might.

Fievel in Haiti

2010-09-24T16:43:00.002-05:00

When I was growing up my parents kindly allowed my sister and I to raise all sorts of animals. We tried gerbils, hamsters, bunnies, puppies, kittehs!!1!, and Becca even had a guinea pig. Annie had some fish once. I always wanted a horse, but we settled with letting my have horseback riding time every Saturday with Nikki Steidl. That is, until the horse died. And then all my dreams were shattered.

Moving on.

Needless to say, I like animals. In general I don't like to kill things, unless they are spiders or cockroaches. All other animals may live. Especially the cat-sized rats from the depot. Those I don't even attempt to kill.

So a few weeks ago when I stumbled upon the little mouse who had taken up residence in our house, I didn't mind. He kept to his corner and scuttled away if he came anywhere close to me. When Diana came home and moved back in, we started to notice him more. Then we started to notice his...problems.

He moved sluggishly. His fur stood out at odd angles. He looked rather malnourished. I am guessing Mother Mouse never really loved him. We keep our food locked up tightly, so he probably starved much of the time he was here.

One week he made appearances more often and was getting bolder. It was probably the hunger that sent him to madness. He would run under our feet like a crazed lunatic. He would hide under our couch and chair. He would not move when we tried to shoo him away - he stood mighty as an oak...a mangy, matted oak.

Diana wanted to pound him with a flip flop. I told her no, that we just needed to get him to run out the door and close him out. So one night I grabbed a broom and Diana grabbed a tiny tupperware bowl and we set out to capture him. He would run one way and I would try to corral him out of the corners into the bowl. We got him right to the front door, and in a moment of attempting "DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES?!", I hockey pucked him into the door.

I have horrid aim, he flew into the doorframe, and scuttled back underneath the fridge. He escaped for that night.

A few nights later, the show down began again. This time we were much more prepared, and I was much calmer, much more focused. I got the mouse to the door and gently guided him out the front door. Success! We helped him down the stairs away from our apartment, where we were promptly greeted by two young boys who live on the mission.

They were very interested in our mouse and set about trying to capture it. I was thankful the mouse was gone, instructed the boys to leave the poor guy alone as he has surely been traumatized, and went back inside. I felt proud of the fact that I had saved the mouse's life and that he may be able to make it in the wild.

That was promptly ruined by the entrance of one of the boys.

"Diana, you don't need to worry. The mouse is far away."

"Oh that's good, where is it?"

"It's up in the sky."

"What?!"

"It's dead?"

"You KILLED it?"

"NO. We were trying to save it, but I accidentally kicked it."

I gathered it had a seizure at that point and died. So much for trying to save it's little life. Probably for the best though, the cats would likely have found him.

That or the depot rats. Those things are monsters.

every breath brings a chance for redemption

2010-09-12T21:04:00.003-05:00

The sight that exposes our sin is the exact same sight that reveals God's grace.

Taken from Kevin Cawley's words from Martin Luther in June 2010, heard today in Haiti.

The last week has been full of reminders of grace. Thank you all for your messages and e-mails and notes about Clermond and Pierre. The amount of response to the last post was overwhelming.

Clermond is doing as well as one could hope. His surgery went very well, and his leg looks wonderful. The people at Adventist did an excellent job. We will continue to follow him for wound care and therapy and explore the possibility of getting him to the States for continuing oncology care.

Pierre - oh Pierre. How I love this little boy. If there is a lesson of grace and hope in this world, I see it so clearly in him. He has been moved into the Hope House for the time being. We do not know where he will be taken or if he will stay with us for good. All we know is that each day he grows healthier and stronger. He has begun to hold his head on his own for short stints and is smiling and laughing more and more.

To think that out of such a broken moment, left under a bench with pneumonia, in one week we would see such a turn around. It is a testament of grace. In those moments of pain and suffering and despair, we can see God's grace in the possibility for something other.

In the last week I have laughed and smiled and felt more joy than I can remember. I know part of it was our incredible medical team this last week. Now none of you go getting a big head - I know you are reading this to see if I actually would blog about you. There you go - you guys are awesome and now the whole blog-dom of Sarah knows it. Peace an' Blessings.

And while those five people would be enough to make a week great, when you have encounters with Hope, when you have an invitation into those moments to DO something, and then you do it, and then you see the glory of the Lord - those are the moments that provide such a sheer amount of joy.

For the first time in three months, I have seen and heard the invitation. We are invited to step into the brokenness and the muck and the pain. We are invited to mourn alongside and to help move forward. We are invited to experience God's grace in our own lives and then speak it out.

We are never meant to pretend that pain isn't there. We should never ignore the hard questions because their answers scare us. We never have to fear what happens if we don't have all the answers, because we never will.

I think as I have begun to realize this, I have found freedom.

The moment of Despair is the moment of Hope.

- Tim Chester

Clermond & Pierre

2010-09-03T19:08:00.003-05:00

What does the face of injustice look like? What does it look like when injustice manifests itself in the flesh, in your face?

Meet 21 year old Clermond.

HaitiMedTeam29: Joseph's Leg from Kurt Neale on Vimeo.

Clermond came to the clinic 3 weeks ago with what was thought to be an abscess. The first set of doctors to see him said they thought he had a sarcoma. The second set of doctors said it definitely wasn't cancer, just a cyst. The third doctor performed a biopsy - and the news came back yesterday.

Clermond indeed has cancer - a stage II osteosarcoma. Today I sat with him for an hour, told him the news, and told him that his only real option for treatment was an above-knee amputation. I was also the one to inform him that there was a hospital willing to do the surgery for him on Sunday. After a long conversation about what cancer is and what treatment looks like, we took a trip to see his father and told him the news.

How wretched for your only feasible option to be an amputation. Clermond said he would consent to the surgery but that his life as he knew it was over. I did my best to speak hope into his world. But in that instant I saw injustice in the flesh, in the tumor that protruded out from below his knee.

Later on that day I transferred a patient to a hospital in Port-au-Prince and got a call on my way back to the mission that there had been a baby abandoned at the clinic. The young mother had gotten news that her 2 year old baby boy likely had muscular dystrophy and would not make much of a recovery. She agreed to return with him on Monday, left him under a bench, and walked away. He became the responsibility of the government today. After trying to transfer him to three different hospitals in Port-au-Prince, the officials left him at the mayor's home tonight.

Injustice in the flesh: a boy in a country with no resources to help his teenage mother care for him. An environment that can be so unforgiving. Muscles that are not developed. A prognosis that is grim for a boy even well-nourished.

With no medical care at the mayor's home and a very malnourished, dehydrated, underdeveloped baby with a possible lung infection, several nurses and myself decided to try and get him back to the mission. With the approval of our Haitian director, I made my way to the mayor's house in the little ambulance and asked to take care of the baby's medical needs. Permission granted.

So, where do we go from here? When injustice is so in your face, what do you do?

As for me, I would seek God,

and to God would I commit my cause,

who does great things and unsearchable,

marvelous things without number:

he gives rain to the earth

and sends water to the fields;

he sets on high those who are lowly,

and those who mourn are lifted to safety.

But he saves the needy from the sword of their mouth

and from the hand of the mighty.

So the poor have hope,

and injustice shuts her mouth.

Behold, this we have searched out; it is true.

-From Job 5

As for tonight little Pierre sleeps on our living room floor on our mattress. I will accompany Clermond to and from the hospital this week. And I will join in the groanings of this world and wait in anticipation for the day when He makes all things new.

Until then, may God show us ways to shut the mouth of injustice.

cutting patterns

2010-08-28T22:14:00.004-05:00

Why are you here? It's a question I get asked almost daily, and it's a question I ask myself all the time. The easy answer is how I physically got here: what were the steps that led me to this point in my life. But the more difficult answer has to do with WHY I chose to say yes.

I remember talking on the phone on a Saturday night, coming home after a long day out somewhere. I drove into Liberty from downtown Kansas City, sat down at my huge square table with my computer, and checked my e-mail. I remember the e-mail from Mission of Hope, asking if I would consider moving to Haiti. I remember reading it through and thinking to myself "No way. I could never do this."

I had just finished filling out my application to license as a nurse in the state of Colorado. I had just received recruiting e-mails from hospitals in Denver and Colorado Springs. I was Craigslisting cute apartments I would rent and live in on my own. I was planning backpacking trips and flights to Canada and moving away from Kansas City.

After all of that, after all of the pieces were falling together, there was no way I was supposed to go to Haiti.

It wasn't until my mom and dad began to point out the steps in my life that had led me to this point that I started to see. Since when has God been confined to our plans? Since when would I have been able to take myself to Kansas City or William Jewell? If I had followed what I would lay out as the right plan, I would probably be leading the most bland life.

But the question remained: what was I supposed to do? Was there a right or wrong? I came to the decision that there wasn't a right path. I could go to Colorado and live in an apartment and work as a nurse and build a new life in a new city with very few friends. Or I could go to Haiti and live in a community and work as a who-knows-what and build a new life in a country with very few friends. Was one right? Not in my mind.

I don't know what I think now. I certainly walked very definitively down one path and away from the other. I knew in my mind that it would change me and that there would be no way to go back. There would be no retries with this decision. There will only be other paths down the road, but there would be no changing the steps that I took, nor changing how they would alter me.

Why did I chose to come? I don't ever have a good answer to that question. I was told I was called here - otherwise I wouldn't be here. I don't know what I think about that either. And really, does it matter why I chose to come, or simply that I chose to come?

Am I glad I chose Haiti? I think so. Most days I know so. Today I am glad I decided to come to Haiti. Last week I wasn't so sure. I looked at one-way plane tickets to fly back to Colorado, as a matter of fact. Today I made a rough timeline for my time in Haiti through September of 2011. That is not a definitive, simply a thought.

Regardless of whether it was right or wrong or simply another branch in the tangled road I am walking, I have changed. I could never have known the amount of pain I was going to witness. I could never have imagined the sadness and anger and frustration. I could never have guessed the depth of beauty and joy I would experience.

I take pictures of my feet a lot. Today I took a lot of pictures of my feet. My feet show the dirt and blisters and tan line of Haiti. They would never look like this if I was standing on the side of the road in Denver. I'll never know what my feet would look like there. But I like the looks of my feet here. I guess that means I'll stand here a bit longer.

Tidbits

2010-08-18T13:46:00.002-05:00

A more recent conversation with a short-term team member:

Team Member: Oh wow! So you are like a real live missionary?

Me: Um, well, I don't know. I guess?

Team Member: You know what really gets me going? When missionaries live in big houses with big screen TVs. [SIDE NOTE: that is very specific, lady] I mean, aren't there better things they can be spending their money on? I mean, I have a big screen TV, but I'm not a MISSIONARY.

Me: ....

You know what really gets me going lady-who-shall-remain-nameless? Your double standard. Your condemnation. Your big screen TV. If you really believe the Gospel and want to see it take hold of this world, I think your attitude needs to change, because right now you don't get it. Thanks for coming for the week. Go home now.

---

A look into my last "day off":

Drive to a tent city to drop off our two prosthetics patients = 1.5 hours

Drive to the airport to drop off a team member = 1 hour

Drive to Carrefour to drop off two of our orthopedic patients for ongoing care = 2 hours

Drive back to the Mission = 2 hours

As far as post-quake injuries, orthopedics is the name of the game. Want to know how many places are still doing orthopedic surgeries on a regular basis?

TWO.

Two places, one a tent hospital, have the capabilities to do orthopedic surgeries. Imagine the amount of people needing ongoing, follow up care. Imagine the amount of external fixation devices needing to be removed. Imagine the bone infections that are popping up now, requiring days of IV antibiotics.

Imagine dropping off your two patients, young girls with their whole lives ahead of them. Imagine seeing them look at you and ask when you will return to pick them up. Imagine their looks of sadness to realize that you are leaving them there, to find some way to get home the 3+ hours on a tap tap with a broken tibia. Imagine the frustration for being able to do so little to help.

---

A patient from last week:

20 year old from a local village has had a mass growing on his leg for over a year. He comes in to have it looked at. Some doctors call it cancer. The next doctors call it benign and cystic. He needs pathology to look at it. There is no pathology in country. I have another doctors appointment scheduled for him next week for a third opinion. If it is discovered he has cancer, the reality of treatment is grim. He would need to get to the States soon.

He calls me almost daily asking if I know what he can do yet. He asks me if I will go to his doctor's appointments with him. He is scared, and so am I.

---

A joy from last week:

Andre, an older man, ragged and smelling strongly of marijuana, comes to the clinic for a follow-up appointment. He gets his external fixation removed. He wears the same hat every day and has to remove it for surgery. As soon as he comes to after surgery, he asks me for his hat. I put it on and a complete look of satisfaction comes across his face.

Andre leaves and says he will come back tomorrow. The following day he shows up with a big bag of corn. He gives it to me as a thank you. He's got a grin missing most of his teeth, still smelling of marijuana, a salt and pepper long beard, and his conductor's hat on. Once again he asks me for money because he is hungry. I tell him to eat some corn, and he laughs. Then I give him a few dollars for a tap tap home and off he hobbles.

Between that and Haitian radio that plays Celine Dion and Colbie Caillat, you can't help but enjoy life here sometimes.

pain and beauty

2010-07-31T07:43:00.004-05:00

This morning I made coffee for the first time this week. This is monumental. I have avoided our coffee pot in our apartment here because the last time I used it there was nearly a disaster.

I had just woken up and shuffled my way to the kitchen. Bleary eyed and hair in a very awkward messy bun, I grabbed the coffee pot to fill it with water. As I pulled, something was underneath the pot on the burner (which was off) and it flew with the pot.

It was...a COCKROACH.

I don't think I hate anything more than cockroaches. I am determined to get over my fear of them while I am here, but so far no luck.

Anyways, the cockroach flew into my sink and disappeared from there, making me not touch the counters in the apartment for about 4 days. When I finally decided the dishes were too many and too dirty and soon they would attract more cockroaches, I made my way to the sink.

There, in a coffee cup, was the cockroach. Drowned. Sucker.

But really, I guess it loved coffee.

So needless to say I scrubbed my coffee pot well this morning, and there is a delicious cup of coffee that I didn't have to wait a long time to enjoy alongside every team member here.

On Tuesday we had a car accident come in to the clinic. Our patients didn't come all at once like we usually see. Instead they came at least 30 minutes apart. We normally don't hear about big accidents until the patients start showing up. The story was: the driver of a tap-tap, for some unknown reason, ran over 12 people. 12 pedestrians hit, 2 died instantly, and the other 10 were being brought to hospitals around the area.

Our first patient was 13. She had two large open wounds on her thighs, and as I jumped into the truck to put her on a board, it was very obvious that she had broken both of her legs. They were pointed in very wrong directions, and her knees were facing out rather than straight on.

Our other two patients had head injuries and both had to be intubated. We have no ventilation systems which required us to bag them all the way to the next hospital. The hospital we took our head injury patients to was in Port-au-Prince and is well known for emergencies and critical care.

When I arrived with our last patient, they looked at me and said "We have no open vents". I continued to bag him while the checked him out in their two bed trauma area, then we wheeled him to the ICU. The four bed ICU, probably the size of your bedroom, stuffed with patients and nurses and doctors and oxygen tanks and supplies.

It isn't easy to do anything here. To go buy milk takes at least 3 hours of your time after you get a vehicle and a driver to take you. To take care of patients with head injuries is nearly impossible. And somedays I would rather just scream and refuse to deal with any of it, because it's too hard.

Thankfully, I am surrounded by people who remind me of why I am here. I have a great cloud of witnesses to point me away from my own works to grace. And then I get to share moments like these with them.

Haiti has REAL cappuccinos!

Haiti has practically perfect sunsets!

There is the ocean.

Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God shines forth.

Our God comes; he does not keep silence...

Psalm 50: 2-3

In this world there is pain and there is beauty. Thank goodness for the beauty, because it reminds me that this isn't the whole story and this isn't the end of the story.

ear to the earth

2010-07-17T13:28:00.002-05:00

This week was surgery week. A team of 41 medical people that I worked with all week. Hundreds of patients seen in the clinic, wound and orthopedic consultation area, and ER. 54 surgeries completed. Several car and motorcycle accidents. Early morning and late night radio calls for blood expanders and extra hands. Meals ferried back and forth. Water, water, water, IVs, broken down cars and ATVs, ambulance runs, laughs, candy, hugs, tears, frustration.

This week was one of the most beautiful things I have ever taken part in.

I just waved goodbye to our medical team. Our 41 friends just left to go back to the States. Some of them have a look in their eyes that tells me something: change has occurred. In some way, everyone is leaving changed, more beautiful, emptied and filled.

I don't know how I will get off this couch. I could sit here all day to process. But our next team comes in this evening. We have 6 patients on our ward through the weekend. And we hurtle onwards.

Yet this week has torn me apart too. To be so endlessly served by this team, to watch them love and care and agonize alongside us with our patients, and then to leave, it tears me up. They have become a little family with me this week - and I am sad to see them go.

I am agonizing over the stories of some of our patients.

Crushed by buildings on January 12.

Ulcerations on legs for 8 years, desperately wanting to not have dressings done each day.

Beaten with sugar cane as a child slave.

Abused with battery acid that has disfigured her face.

Dear brothers and sisters, what a wretched world we are in. What a wretched world to be treated so poorly. What injustice. How much my heart aches. How much I desire to cry out for them, yet how beautiful this week to begin to see transformation. Perhaps we can help heal these scars, both physical and emotional. Perhaps we can learn how to walk alongside instead of walk away. Perhaps I can begin to pull myself away from my quiet world where I am safe and comfortable. Perhaps, just perhaps, God can redeem this wicked heart of mine.

May the Gospel grip me today and not let me go. Sweet Jesus, come quickly and sand away the exterior. Allow Truth to seep in and around. May the strength of Jesus manifest in us as we walk along.

a long road

2010-07-10T18:47:00.002-05:00

This week we had a great medical team working with us. They were from all over the country, and half of them were students. Our week in the clinic was smooth and busy. Thursday was a quieter afternoon, so I offered that the medical students, the EMT, and our one visiting nurse could go out into the mountains with our ministry team going out. The ER doctor who is an anesthesiologist and myself stayed and closed up the clinic with our Haitian staff, then we joined the cardiologist and his kids at the guest house for the afternoon.

It was shortly after 5:00, and I had spent the previous hour alone, feeling rather confused about the state of my heart. I was feeling sad about something, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was tired and ready for my day off on Saturday. I sat down next to Diana, our prosthetics lab coordinator, and some of the interns and chatted when a grey truck pulled up with some other visitors at the Mission in the back.

“Sarah, there’s been a terrible tap-tap accident in Source Matelas. At least 25 people.”

I’m not sure what else they yelled, but the two doctors quickly mobilized and jumped in the truck. I grabbed my radio and told Dr. Cheryl, who was in her house, and I ran to change out of my skirt into scrubs. The grey truck with the doctors, followed by me on my ATV with three of the interns, and Dr. Cheryl behind went to the clinic. We grabbed our mass trauma bins from the pharmacy extension, equipped to treat 30 trauma patients at once. Brianna used my phone to try and get a hold of Lindsay, our team coordinator who is a nurse, and the rest of our medical team. They were only 10 minutes away, praise the Lord.

The first tap-tap backed up to our clinic with about 6 patients just as the team pulled in. Lindsay and Kari, our two other nurses in addition to me, jumped out with our EMT, medical students, and other team members. Dr. Cheryl began to triage with the doctors, and I started to ask people for additional supplies. We had an incredible team assembled.

Somewhere in the process Brad, Mission of Hope’s director and president, drove our small ambulance to the scene to pick up patients. He returned and called us over, saying he had some severely injured people.

When we opened the back door I walked up to the first patient I saw and realized his feet were at odd angles. As I got right next to them I realized that they were barely hanging on by some skin and tissue. I could see all of the bones of his feet, and his flesh around the bones looked to be ground. I held on to his feet as we moved him out of ambulance, and they took him over to be triaged. I then realized that we had no morphine out, and we were going to need it. One of the medical students ran and got it for me, and I started to teach people how to draw up morphine. I did a few vital signs, during that time the man with the feet was transferred out to General Hospital. The head orthopedic surgeon that I called and Diana spoke with told us to send him the worst cases, so we immediately sent our first patient in the little ambulance.

Soon after that we needed to transfer three more in our big ambulance. Cheryl wanted to send a nurse along. Knowing we needed Kari on site as she was the most experienced and Lindsay was working with Cheryl on triaging, I found myself climbing in with three patients, a medical student, and our Haitian ambulance driver Jocelyn.

We rushed to General Hospital with a man with a femur fracture and intense chest pain and shortness of breath and a man with a potential cervical spine injury. The ride was so bumpy that I squatted between the two patients to try and make sure they didn’t get thrown anywhere. I prayed out loud and I prayed in my head. I knew if one of them started to take a turn for the worse I would be ill-equipped to help them. When we made it to General Hospital I was so relieved to get our patients into more capable hands.

General Hospital is the main Haitian hospital in Port-au-Prince, what would be the county hospital in a city. It is Truman Medical Center to Kansas City. Jocelyn and I wheeled in our femur fracture and chest pain patient, and it wasn’t long before I saw the trail of blood. We followed it into the center of the ER, where I found the man with his feet dangling, surrounded by doctors who seemed to just stare at him. I was greeted by a Brazilian UN member who quickly realized I was trying to bring in THREE patients, and he left. I met a first year general surgery resident who began to explain to me that they could not accept not only our three, but also the man with the feet and another man brought in by a different clinic from the same accident. I was suddenly being handed 5 patients, 4 of whom were critical, and told I had to deal with them.

Thank goodness for Jocelyn. He was by my side the entire time. He did not push me, but he took everything in and would advise me along the way. He informed me that General Hospital has TWO ambulances, and if they refused to accept our patients, they would have the capability to transfer them. The doctors told me it was too difficult to find ambulance drivers at this time of night, and they did not call. Short of dialing the number for them, I hounded them until they did call. Within 10 minutes, the two ambulances arrived with drivers. We agreed those two ambulances would transfer the 4 critical patients and General would keep our other one. It took another 30 to 40 minutes to get the patients in the ambulances. We followed them off, knowing we had 7 more patients to transfer that night.

Our next two transfers were to Carrefour, on the other side of Port-au-Prince, the epicenter of the earthquake. Those transfers were much smoother and less time-consuming, but we made it back to the mission after our final transfer at 3:30 in the morning. The next day I found out the man with the feet died between transfers to a third hospital after a second refused him. He was our only patient that we know of who died, though we only got 14 of the 30+ people involved.

The MAIN hospital in Port-au-Prince has had nearly all aid groups pull out. They have no sterile OR. They have NO sterile operating room at the MAIN Haitian hospital in Port-au-Prince after having suffered arguably the worst natural disaster. They did not have enough staff or beds. The tent and field hospitals are downsizing or closing altogether. But the need has not passed. The work is still here, and the workers are leaving.

At some point in the evening I looked around and realized that more people had come, and they were familiar faces. The interpreters for our groups, both medical and non-medical, had heard that there was an accident and came immediately. The same was to be said for some of our drivers. Everyone knew what a mass trauma accident meant, and they came. I cannot begin to tell you what that moment of clarity gave me. Following our first transfer I had some time to sit and breath in and out, and it dawned on me that the people I had come to serve already serve each other so endlessly. And they serve me and Mission of Hope endlessly. What I have taken away from them last night reaches far beyond what I could ever do in my entire time in Haiti.

The need is so great; it is dire. May we all find ways to fill and pour into the needs around us. May I wrestle with how that looks in my own life.

restacking

2010-07-03T23:19:00.003-05:00

It's nighttime in Haiti. I am sitting on the concrete outside my front door and listening to the hum of the generator down the hill, the quiet voices from the group on the opposite side of the wall, and Bon Iver.

I have no pressing news to report. I am here, and I am living life each day, and I am trying to piece together the blocks of a new little life. Diana Cherry chopped off a good chunk of my hair today. I have spent more time in the last two days laughing and smiling and listening than I have feeling lonely and afraid. God has been pressing on me the importance of silence and solitude. I am trying very hard to seek that out in this time, to listen carefully for His voice.

Thanks for the thoughts, notes, and love over the past two and a half weeks.

Day 3.1

2010-06-18T06:11:00.000-05:00

It is difficult to begin to put into words how I am feeling at the moment. I feel so richly blessed to be here in this moment. I feel that the Lord has ordained these days, for this purpose.

At Mission of Hope I am surrounded by individuals who work to their core to bring the Hope of Jesus to a nation. They do so in such real, tangible ways, investing in the communities and in the lives of the people within those communities. The staff here are incredibly talented in their own roles. What an excellent group to work with, to learn from, and to serve alongside.

Yet it creates such an interesting dilemma: how to place oneself. How to decipher exactly what it is that God has brought you here to do. And no, it isn’t all about doing. Our lives are never meant to be deeds-driven. It’s not enough to simply do good.

Where does your heart stand? What exactly are YOU here for? Why did you get on that plane? Why did you leave a perfectly beautiful life? And how much of that gets in the way of what God really brought you here for?

So – why did I come? I couldn’t quite say. I am nearly positive that it isn’t 100% selfless. Some of me selfishly needed to be here. Some of me feels the pull to DO, to mask my pride and brokenness with actions. Because to everyone outside it paints a pretty picture.

Tonight is the night I begin to examine that. To do the hard work of exposing the rot. To sit in a dark room and apologize for the ways in which I have sought to put myself on a pedestal.

With each step we take, God has established a purpose. Perhaps a portion of that purpose is to begin to understand why we are going where we are going. Or perhaps it is simply to sit back and realize that every form of control we seek will only lead to ruin. May we have eyes to see.

good morning world

2010-06-16T05:50:00.001-05:00

Current location: Miami International Airport

Current time: 5:50 AM (now 6:50 AM)

Current situation: Sitting in the basement(?!), drinking my final coffee, eating my final scone

My flights have been relatively uneventful, minus the 30 minute delay once they closed the door in LAX. Sleeping on very crowded planes while Alvin & The Chipmunks: The Squeakquel plays in the background is very difficult. About an hour or so into the flight they finally turned the lights off, and I would sleep for 10 minutes here and there, with two stretches of 30-40 minutes. Needless to say, my neck hurts, my face looks like death, and I opted for the large size of coffee in said airport basement.

There is an 8 AM flight to Port-au-Prince that I could have been on, but for some reason unknown to me at this time, I opted for the later flight. What was I thinking??? Ah well, it’s only an extra…hour and 40 minutes.

BUT that gives me time to blog!

It is hard to believe that I will be there in a few short hours, si Bondye vle. I walked past the gate for the 8:00 flight and heard my first few words of Creole that were not rolling around in my head only. I need to start kicking my brain in gear and see if I can navigate my way back to the minimal conversationalist I was in August.

I wish I could call people but it is an unspeakable hour in Kansas City, Colorado, and Washington, as well as other places, so I will just sit in the basement.

I do love the flight to Haiti. The water is so blue, and it is an entirely different world once you step on the plane. THEY GIVE YOU FREE TOBLERONE. And cheese and crackers and raisins and something else. I will probably ask for a cup of coffee too.

My first success of this trip was the weight of my bags. My HUGE bag weighed in at 49.5 pounds. BOOYAH.

I am wondering who will pick me up at the airport. I hope I know them.

I am ALSO wondering how on earth I will make it to the mission if they forget I am coming. I think I would pay someone who works at the airport to let me use their cell phone to call…gosh I don’t even know. I don’t have anyone’s numbers there! Diana, if you are reading this, DON’T LET THEM FORGET TO PICK ME UP!

Unfortunately for me, they no longer have mailboxes in airports because of 9/11. Now, I get that completely, but PEOPLE, I have so much mail I am carting around in my backpack that I now have to take to Haiti to pawn off on groups and staff leaving the country to put in a mailbox for me.

Perhaps one of you blog readers can answer me this: will the Gulf oil spill come to Haiti? Because really, don’t you think earthquakes and the promise of an intense hurricane season is enough? I think so.

Ok: here is the plan of action. I will go and change into my “going-to-Haiti” outfit, put on a pound of makeup, and re-straighten my hair.

Just kidding, but seriously, I have an outfit.

So. I will change into my outfit and brush my teeth (AH!) and then go to my gate, pay for wireless internet, charge all my electronics, keep writing mail, listen to my trashy pop music, and keep sipping on this coffee.

See you on the other side!

time to sing a new song

2010-06-12T19:12:00.003-05:00

My blog silence can be attributed to much. I intend to blog more in depth about a lot of the past and future events, but in the meantime...

My computer finally bit the dust (a little bit), hence no computer equals no spur-of-the-moment, emotional posts. But hopefully it will be back in hand Monday, and you will once again be subject to my tidbits.

Also, it would be nice to have in hand before moving on Tuesday.

Speaking of which, my phone will be gone on Monday afternoon/Tuesday morning. Just in case you were DYING to talk to me on the phone.

I have found in these last few days I have been content to sit in quiet, to withdraw more and more into my room and into myself. I'm not sure if that's the beginning of the grieving process or an ineffective manifestation of coping.

Don't get me wrong, the thought of waking up at dawn over the mountains in Haiti, to view the bluest water, to drink a cup of strong coffee and walk a bit down the hill to take in the day's first breath, to giving hugs to dear friends and hold hands of the dearest children, to Fruit Champagne and fried plantains, to clinic life and handing packs of gum to Dr. Jenifer, to fighting my way through Creole tucked FAR away in my brain, it all brings a sort of life into my heart.

Yet the final days and moments here will continue to feel a sense of darkness and heaviness. Goodbye to close drives to family, Colorado mountains and weather, and the sort of freedom I have here.

More to come soon!

clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose

2010-05-27T00:15:00.003-05:00

Life is full. I feel as if the past few days have been bursting with activities that have filled me with an enormous amount of joy. I have met many new people, laughed a lot, ate well, slept little, enjoyed beautiful Colorado (which will always feel like home), eaten my weight in chips and dip, connected, and spent hours watching Friday Night Lights.

Life is seeming to hurtle onwards. When it seemed as if June 15th was ages away, it is coming quickly now. I am at the 3 week mark, and those 3 weeks will be just as full as the last few days. And when I look at my parents and my sisters and my particular Denver buddy, it starts to become very clear that June 15th will most definitely break me.

I find that I am trying to rationalize and plan a lot. I'm trying to define my coming year, and to come up with the options at the end of it. It's as if I am writing my own life as a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book. And maybe life will be just like that. Or maybe there will be no choice, and there will only be clarity as to the only path I go down.

"Sarah, are you excited to leave?"

It's a question I get almost daily. My answer has changed a lot in the last few weeks. Yes, of course, absolutely, maybe, I'm not thinking about it, Hell no, what kind of question is that?

But if it weren't complex, then life wouldn't be full. If the answer isn't clear cut, then that sheds some perspective onto my current situation. I am happy, I have a full heart. My heart will be equally filled and emptied simultaneously. I am not longer viewing the coming year in such romanticized terms. Let us not forget what it means to leave.

But if it wasn't hard, if it wasn't painful, then would it be worth it? Isn't it better to live a full, heart-breaking life rather than an empty, protected one? We must love boldly. We must be brave and leave. We must be brave and stay. We must ask the Lord to make us uncomfortable in order to break us down and point us to what matters.

People are what matters. To those on either end, thank you for loving me unconditionally and pointing me to something greater than myself, which has manifested itself in the person of Jesus.

Clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose.

baby steps

2010-05-22T12:32:00.004-05:00

When I was in 8th grade, I decided I wanted to be a nurse. I'm not sure what did it. It was, perhaps, the conversation with my locker partner during a sleep over in which we were talking about what we never wanted to do with our lives.

My response: a nurse.

The voice in my head: too bad, you will be.

I don't know if you can call that the voice of God or the early manifestations of my stubborn attitude. Either way, 8 years later, I got the news. I got pinned, I graduated, I took my boards, and, this just in, I PASSED! Yesterday the man at REI asked me what I did. I said "I'm a nurse! Sort of."

No Sarah, you are a nurse. The state of Kansas and the NCSBN say so.

Anyways, I had a lot of excitement going into nursing school. I wanted to be a pediatric oncology nurse. Maybe labor and delivery. Maybe, if I was REALLY interested, an ER nurse.

I finished my first clinical with relief. I hated it. I hated clinicals with a fiery passion. It was nerve-wracking, and I always came out feeling very aware of how little I knew. It was sort of hopeless at times. After that year, I was a little lost, so I moved away from Kansas City to Washington for the summer. I came back reluctantly and started into what is known to be the hardest semester of nursing school.

On my second week of clinical in Adult Health, on the telemetry floor, my clinical instructor came and sat next to me. Our conversation went something like this:

"Sarah, I'm disappointed in your performance. I know you are capable of more than this. You could be a great nurse, and you aren't doing anything to challenge yourself. Do you even want to be here?"

"No. I don't. I hate nursing school. I don't really like clinicals."

"Well, you better find some motivation or get out of the program. Because with that attitude, you won't make it through. Figure it out."

A kick in the pants. A kick in the stomach. And it made me so angry that I set out to show him I could hate nursing school and make it through. Each week my paper work got better, he was more encouraging, and I walked out of that clinical a little smarter.

When I finished junior year and went to Haiti, I wasn't prepared for what was to come. But it was in those weeks that the transformation began, and it was in this place that the motivation took hold.

The clinic at MOH and the staff began to instill in me the motivation to continue through school.

The opportunity to change these dressings, a daily dressing change for this dear friend, gave me to motivation to be better.

A week ago, I was pinned. As we walked across the stage to be pinned and prayed over, the man who once told me to find some motivation or get out of the program read my thank you. My final thank you went to the young man whose legs are pictured above - because without him and without the clinic, I would not have finished.

And now, with the incredible gift of my education, I hope I can begin to use it in the ways in which the Lord would have me. May He establish the work of our hands.

Whew.

2010-05-19T22:56:00.002-05:00

I began my journey in nursing school fearful. I walked into my first day of clinical terrified, but the night before I read a passage that stuck with me when I was afraid, in all things little and large. I said it before clinicals, I said it before tests, I said it before I got off the plane in Haiti. And tonight I speak and pray it again: prepared to use it tomorrow as ammunition against the one who comes to discourage and destroy.

Strengthen the weak hands,

and make firm the feeble knees.

Say to those who have anxious heart,

"Be strong; fear not!

Behold, your God will come with a vengeance,

with the recompense of God.

He will come and save you."

- Isaiah 35:3-4

The Lord has made everything for its purpose.

qualms and calms

2010-05-17T17:33:00.004-05:00

The marathon is coming into the final lap.

I finished finals on Wednesday morning. I spent the next few days saying goodbyes. Thursday evening my family arrived, Friday was packing day, and Friday night was Nursing Pinning.

Saturday I woke up after a fitful night of a few hours of sleep to a pounding head, a sore throat, and sinuses that decided to drip constantly. But on with the cap and gown, into the rainy morning, Baccalaureate, Walk around the Quad, and Graduation. Got the fake diploma, ate some pizza with friends and family, packed the cars, and bought some Afrin to clear out my sinuses so I could breath and sleep.

Sunday morning comes, and it was time to say goodbye to the family. Time to say goodbye to the nephews. Time to say goodbye to Redeemer. Time to say goodbye to Kansas City, and to the home of seven years.

I got hit by a deer just over the Colorado border. Welcome home Sarah!

We unloaded the car, I fell into bed, and the doctor gave me some steroids to decrease the inflammation in my throat, ears, sinuses, nose, and lungs this morning. Booyah!

And now...to studying! Study, test, review, test again. Move on and repeat. It's almost over.

In the meantime I will cling to this photo, perfectly encapsulating the joy that I felt at the end of this weekend.

It was hard to leave Kansas City, and it was so good to come home. It was hard to say goodbye to Micah and Tyler and Jeremy and Ashley, the remainder of the Kansas City Parsons, and it was so good to walk into the house to be greeted by my dad and sister. It is so hard to know that the last step has finished, yet the anticipation of the next step is beginning to build, quietly and surely. But in this moment, in these moments, I hope I will continue to stop and thank the Lord for his mercy, for His kindness in lavishing such a loving community around me. For granting me a supportive family, ever-present friends, and a future that does not scare me.

May we continue on.

2010-05-01T21:55:00.002-05:00

On August 27 I said goodbye to Haiti. This was my last view of the most beloved place that morning.

I remember the rise of pain in my chest as I sat on the electrical box with some of the security guards and interpreters, watching the truck come to pick me up. I remember the relief when it was Billy and Costa in the truck, as they would be the perfect people to escort me into the city. I remember looking at the team, laughing away at their breakfast table. It just didn't seem right. They just didn't get it. How could they not look at this sunrise and have their heart break? And why weren't they broken? Why was I the only one who seemed to feel such an incredible weight of despair?

I left pained, but not so much with leaving as with returning. I carried home a heaviness that will never go away completely. I carried home a broken heart. And the Lord, in His way, rebuilt me. He put me back together, scarred but stronger.

It wasn't so much about poverty. Poverty definitely was the catalyst, but it wasn't the reason I returned ripped apart. It was because my world was shattered, and everything that made sense about my life didn't really fit anymore. It was because who I was before looked different from the person returning. And the Lord wasn't going to let me go back to that life - because who I was on the other side was more of who He wanted to see.

Today I began to anticipate my return. I feel like the Lord has been so good in reminding me to "be here" while I am here, and be there when I get there. But for a few minutes today I remembered the smell and the feeling of falling asleep in the hot air and the refreshment of waking up with the sun cresting those mountains, once again reminded of how this life I live has nothing to do with me.

He makes, and is making, all things new.

page 249

2010-04-25T21:22:00.004-05:00

"I don't think we can really understand how time passes. We can't study it like a river or time it with a clock. Our devices only mark its coming and going. I dropped an anchor three months back but time didn't slow. Some things have to end, you know. You feel like life is always leading up to something, but it isn't. I mean life is just life. It's all happening right now, and we aren't going to be any more complete a month from now than we are now. I only say this because I am trying to appreciate everything tonight. I will be leaving soon, and I want to feel this, really understand that it is happening because God breathed some spark into some mud that became us, and He did it for a reason, and I want to feel that reason, not some false explanation."

- Donald Miller Through Painted Deserts

I'll be missing dear memories and dearer faces.

Praise the Lord for such a great cloud of witnesses.

ants marching

2010-04-19T11:35:00.002-05:00

I live in a quaint little red brick house in a quaint little town on a quiet little street. Sounds nice right?

It is. Truly, I am thankful for this house, and I will miss my little home come May 17. There's a little problem though.

The ants.

They are massive, shiny ants with bodies that crunch when they are smashed. I don't mind them so much seeing as how cockroaches and tarantulas will be more the norm in my life. Yet...they are everywhere. It grosses me out.

Anyhow - the ants march, like DMB sings, and time marches on as well. I just came out of my critical care final. I answered 105 questions in under an hour which makes me nervous - but I either knew the answer or I didn't. I didn't sit and deliberate because the answers I chose made sense to me. We'll see how good that sense is in a few hours.

I continue to wait for my ATT to show up - it's my approval from the NLCEX board to take my boards. Time marches on.

I bought my ticket to go to Haiti. One way on a red eye from LAX to Miami. Sounds romantic right? I think it's just the way to start out a year overseas - flying a red eye. It seems right to fly while everyone sleeps.

Goodbyes are my norm these days. And Kevin was so timely to remind me of Psalm 90:14,17 yesterday:

Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,

that we may rejoice and be glad all our days...

Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us,

and establish the work of our hands.

He has established each of our steps, and the days in Haiti are no different. So may He be my sustainer, and may we rejoice when we receive his steadfast love.

say goodbye, say hello

2010-04-16T22:13:00.002-05:00

This week I walked closely with death again, and I saw another facet.

This week it was something else: painful, yet beautiful. I watched as a man was surrounded by many of his nearest and dearest, lying with the breeze coming through the window and hymns sung around him. And with his wife and daughter and son-in-law at his side just a bit later, he was gone.

But he was a man who proclaimed and lived out the Hope of the Gospel. There is a better end to his story. So in the midst of the sadness there is also a celebration.

We said goodbye to a giant in the face of cancer this week. He inspired and encouraged us all to live our lives in the best way possible.

We will miss him. Yet he was went out in joy and was led forth in peace.

April 7, 2010

2010-04-08T19:55:00.002-05:00

Nothing about yesterday seemed to be real. It didn't seem to be right.

I had a patient, a very young patient, who made a choice. A choice to have a baby. She went against medical advice, got pregnant, had her baby, and nine months later I stood in her room.

The pictures of her three beautiful, perfect daughters hung on the wall. There was a slideshow running on the computer in the room, pictures of family vacations and dinners and birthday parties. She was an absolutely stunning woman. And yet, she looked nothing like those pictures now.

She laid paralyzed to decrease her body's need for oxygen. Her lungs had failed her, her heart was nearly failed, her kidneys had failed her, her liver was beginning to fail her. Her mother and husband sat in the room, grieving the loss they knew would come. I don't know if they knew it would come so soon. I didn't know if it would, but I had a feeling.

Her heart rate started to drop, her blood pressure bottomed out, and suddenly I was pushed against the wall...watching as if I wasn't really there, but more just dreaming it.

I watched 13 other people pour into the room. The nurses ran in and out, grabbing supplies, while the doctors watched silently. They would quietly say out another drug to push, another method to try, but then the resident on the case walked over to the mother and husband and simply hugged them as they began to sob.

The room was relatively quiet - just the sound of the Ambu-bag breathing for the patient in the hands of the respiratory therapist and the alarms dinging in the background alerting everyone that something wasn't right in that room.

For education purposes I should have paid attention to see what epinephrine and atropine did to the patient's heart rate, or how well her tissues were oxygenating. But I watched instead the slideshow - still running. Three little girls who were losing their mother. And I looked outside the door to see every medical and pharmacy student peering through to see what was happening. All I wanted to do was to walk out and cry. Perhaps one of those students should have been in the room in my place.

I watched a husband lose his wife and a mother lose her daughter. I saw grief overtake one and anger the other. I saw every nurse on the floor shed a tear for this family. And those pictures rotated on and on.

The world isn't supposed to be this way. It was never meant to be this way. I think that God's fury boiled over yesterday, indignant at the suffering of His children. I think His anger is stewing against sinfulness.

I sat outside the room with the nurse, listening to her talk through her grief. Then the husband came out, and she gave him a hug. Then he looked at me and said "Can I hug you too? You were with her today."

So I hugged him and could only whisper "I'm so sorry."

I could write about our Hope. But this family doesn't share in that Hope. So instead I just feel a heaviness.

The world was never meant to be this way.

hard times

2010-03-30T11:07:00.003-05:00

There are so many things in this world that make my blood boil.

I know, what a statement to make after the joy of yesterday's blog.

I have a good reason for the switch.

The story: at least 321 people massacred in the D.R. of the Congo by the LRA, the rebel army that has been terrorizing the people of Uganda for decades. The rebel army that is the source of the longest running war in Africa. The rebel army that, like so many others, has operated with freedom, that has ties to the problems in Sudan. The rebel army that has seeped out of Uganda into the Congo, Chad, Sudan, and Kenya.

Add the LRA to the existing conflicts in the Congo, Sudan, Ethiopia, Somalia, Rwanda, and on and on.

What is more frustrating? It took until March 28th for the majority of the world to acknowledge it happened.

What is the most popular story on the BBC website currently?

"Ricky Martin announces he is gay."

There are bombs in Moscow, people dying by mutilation at the hands of brainwashed child soldiers, ongoing wars in the Middle East.

I was in a church service over Christmas break, and the pastor asked "What injustice in the world makes your blood boil?"

Can you think of one?

Every 2 minutes someone in the U.S. is sexually assaulted.

73% of rape victims know their assailant.

Only 6% of rapists will spend a day in jail.

Malnutrition affects one in three people worldwide.

That includes 20% of developed nations.

Every 15 seconds a child dies of a water-related disease.

By the way, that's something like diarrhea. That's something preventable by the water running out of our taps, out of our shower heads, and out of our garden hoses.

I have to be careful when my passion and fury towards injustice takes over. I sometimes lose sight of what is the heart of the matter when I get so overwhelmed with problems.

My heart breaks for people in the third world. God has turned my heart, he has broken me for the injustices toward the poor. And in my summer in Haiti last year I was reminded every day of how little I could do.

I could not take in every orphan I saw on the streets.

I could not give clean water to every person who didn't have any.

I could not provide proper nutrition to every hungry person I saw.

I could not put in jail the men who raped the little girls I saw on a daily basis.

I could not do much, in a nation of 9 million. A nation that is a dot on the globe.

So, Mr. Pastor, that's what makes my blood boil. That the injustice and the need of the world is so massive that I can do little to change it. I am angry that it exists at all.

He followed his initial question with this statement:

DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

So - what makes your blood boil? And what are you going to do about it? I would love to hear, because people who live out their passion, who follow what the Lord has broken their hearts over, those people are the ones who remind me of Hope, who point me back to the Lord, and remind me that we serve a Lord who is angry too, and who is coming to change things.

But it isn't enough to wait for Him to fix this shit around us.

Let's do something about it.

Do something like this.

What am I doing? I'm moving to Haiti for a year, and I am praying that the Lord shows me what to do next. I am praying that as I go, as I help doctors and nurses take care of the sick people we meet, that I will learn something about meeting physical needs of people. And that that will begin to build bridges to allow spiritual needs to be met.

I have no idea what I am doing here. I have no idea how to be brave enough to be like Isabella and Katie and Mike and Beth Fox. But I hope that I will never stop to be driven and passionate like they are at fighting against the darkness in this world.

And I am thankful that every step along the way reminds me I am broken, I am not enough, and I am provoked and led by a God who never abandons and continually sustains, who asks His people to fight the darkness too.

What will you do? What shall I do?

Siblings

2010-03-29T10:37:00.006-05:00

I return!

You guys, this weekend was wild. It was my last days of work EVER. I mean, I am currently unemployed until I move to Haiti in June. I am not sure that is even employment. It certainly is hard work, but would anyone look at that and say I have a job? A career? I guess we'll see. When I tell people who don't know me that I am going they either:

A) Look at me like I am crazy.

B) Look at me like I am crazy and smile encouragingly. I like these people.

I went to Colorado over spring break. It was fun. I got to spend my first night there with my sisters.

SIDE NOTE. HAVE YOU MET MY SISTERS???

I know! They are adorable.

Also. They are hilarious. I don't think anyone has the ability to make me laugh as much as my sisters, my brother, and brother-wife Ashley.

For instance: Annie. Annie is dynamic. She has some of the best hair days around. She karaokes with the best of them. She runs half marathons with ease in mile-high elevations. She pushes herself to do things she doesn't think she can, then she excels. Her writing is witty and this is just an example that has me laughing out loud, literally. LOL, L.

For instance again: Becca. If you see Becca she is most likely:

A) With a dog. Typically Gabe/GREEBS. The Zac Efron of the dog world.

B) Hip and trendy with rocking hair, tights, leg warmers, boots, and a dress. I know. Adorable.

C) Making jokes.

Becca is a magnetic personality with a lot of sarcasm and wit on the side. People automatically like Becca. She's also unaware of her charm, which makes her more charming. She's artistic and creative. She wants to take in all the stray puppies, and puppies love her. It's such a precious sight.

Couple these two with THESE TWO, and I have the funniest siblings in the world, hands down. Not to mention the most talented.

I am going to miss family time come June.

Profile Picture Pride

2010-03-17T12:32:00.005-05:00

When you go to another country on a mission trip, you inevitably put a picture of you and one of the kids you met as your profile picture. Come on now people, you've done it, haven't you? I have!

Part of it is probably the fact that you liked the kid. He or she was cute, and maybe spoke a different language in the most adorable little kid voice. You couldn't help but cuddle them and fall in love.

Another part of it is because it's trendy. It's hip. It's cool to put your picture up with an orphan from another country. I mean, look at me! I went to Haiti and cuddled this adorable child. Go look at the rest of my pictures. I am so cool, right?

Am I just cynical, or am I right? A little bit right?

I'm right in my own circumstance. I mean, I want you to look at this picture of me and Roberto and think "That's adorable. How cool. I wonder what her other pictures are like."

That's icky isn't it?

Not the picture, because Roberto reminds me of this kid. I mean, what isn't adorable about that?

But it's icky because it's another example of how we seek approval and applause through our actions. We live in a works-based world. You are successful if you make more money, go to college, have the dream job, own your own home, have the pool in the back and the Escalade out front.

Or even if your successful world doesn't hold a pool or an Escalade (two things I could do without, seeing as how I hate swimming and Escalades), success comes through the envy and approval of others.

And I don't know anyone who would say cuddling cute orphans isn't good or worthy of applause.

Just another way my pride jumped out at me today. It makes me feel slimy and no good.

"I see the Castle Rock"

2010-03-15T01:11:00.004-05:00

What the Lord made abundantly clear to me today, courtesy of a long, slow drive from Denver to Colorado Springs in a somewhat sketchy stretch of icy road.

My best services are rags, and my best deeds are filthy.

Oh Blessed Jesus, may we find a covert in Thy wounds.

Though our sins they rise to meet us, may they fall next to the merits of You.

(A Prayer for the Brokenhearted)

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness.

I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus' name.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,

all other ground is sinking sand.

When darkness veils His lovely face, I rest on His unchanging grace.

Through every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
all other ground is sinking sand.

His oath, His covenant, and blood, support me in the whelming flood.
Though every earthly prop give way, He then is all my hope and stay.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
all other ground is sinking sand.

When He shall come with trumpet sound, oh then may I in Him be found.
Dressed in His righteousness alone, faultless to stand before the throne.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
all other ground is sinking sand.
(Solid Rock)

As I move to Haiti in just a few short months, I find myself clinging more to this promise, that the only constant in my life, and the only thing I can depend upon to maintain is Christ.

And He is the purpose, He is the center, He is the reason. I have nothing to offer, whether as a nurse in Haiti or a nurse in Colorado or a student. I have nothing to merit myself. I have watched the things of this world break apart and destroy people I love. And the solid rock is His righteousness, His ability to right the wrong. And He will.

Because the Lord who has called you and I is faithful, and He will surely do it.

NCLEX

2010-03-13T15:15:00.004-06:00

In two months - eight weeks - it will be time for me to take my boards. My NCLEX. My "Hey License Me To Be A Nurse" test.

As I sit down and read through chapters of old textbooks and run questions, I find I get overwhelmed. I read a question about contraceptives, and I think to myself "I remember in lab when we talked about this that one day for one hour a year and a half ago. I remember a diaphragm and a depo shot...but how long do they last?"

Or what about Digitalis. I know there is something about it that creates a toxicity very easily. I don't remember what that looks like, or how you treat it, or even what you use Digitalis for specifically. I know it's a medication for something with your heart!

The NCLEX. What they have been preparing us for since January of 2008. Anywhere from 75 to 265 questions, depending on how well or poorly you answer. A 6 hour time limit. Just you and the computer, battling it out, the culmination of all those years in school, hours of studying, thousands of dollars, hinging on one test that could be over in an hour.

So...back to it. Two months, thousands of questions to run, and me, forever a stalling ISFP. A recipe for success or disaster?

I'll let you know.

between the lines

2010-03-02T21:34:00.002-06:00

Two very different lives. I live in the middle of two very different lives.

As I drove through the city tonight, looking at the lights, passing the landmarks in the significant events of my life, I feel somewhat aged.

But most of all, I feel the freedom of my life. I feel my tendency to live somewhat removed from others; it's easier and safer, after all. I drive and watch and sing and get wrapped in the memories of days past. A still ache lies internally, wondering if I will ever get back to those days, the safety and security of those days. I think about it, about the freedom, and about the pain. I have caused a lot of pain; I have burnt bridges. I wonder if I learned from it yet.

My days are filled with some of the most dear friends imaginable. They are filled with a community of believers who have radically altered the way I have seen the world. They are filled with living paycheck to paycheck and off my spare change jar. They are filled with small sorts of adventures and filled with time alone. They hold breakfasts out with friends, nighttime talks with roommates, laughs from the nephews.

Yet somewhere, growing more each day, somewhere in me there is the seed: the reminder of my other life. It continues on in the south. I update myself daily. I remember the evening storms and lights across the water. I remember hugs and holding small hands. I remember the smells and the quiet. I remember the feeling of being there. The physical heat that consumed, the relief of a cold trickle of water and fan, the grit of dirt under your feet and all over your belongings. The smell of sweat and bug spray and ocean and thick air. Only the sound of the fan, some nights mixed with voices, singing or laughing.

But I mostly remember the comfort in being there. The strange semblance of peace that resides heavily over the place, as thick as the air and as heavy as the brokenness.

I live between the two lives. I'm not sure I will ever escape it, nor that I will ever fully want to.

a fork in the road

2010-02-14T11:28:00.002-06:00

As they were going along the road,

someone said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go."

And Jesus said to him,

"Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests,

but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head."

To another He said, "Follow me."

But he said, "Lord, let me first go and bury my father."

And Jesus said to him,

"Leave the dead to bury their own dead.

But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God."

Yet another said,

"I will follow, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home."

Jesus said to him,

"No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."

(Luke 9:57-62)

I think too often reading this passage my mind wanders to the radical call on our lives to follow Christ in terms of physical calling. Too often I see this as "Stay close to your family, or go somewhere foreign." But that isn't what God has brought us to. The decision, the radical call, is to follow Jesus or not. To count Him and His work above all else, and to be willing to turn away from anything in order to do what He has put in your path.

Precisely a week ago I came to a fork in the road. I got an e-mail Saturday night with an opportunity. The road I have been walking has headed west (to the promised land! Not really, but seriously).

The fork has headed south, physically speaking.

And in beginning to consider the choice, the different roads, I came to see that there was not a right and wrong. There is good in both roads. There is suffering and pain in both roads. And in both roads there is God.

I believe that God gives us choices sometimes. Sometimes there is a right or wrong. Sometimes there isn't. I don't think He has one road better than the other. Because each road is something physical in this world. But what really matters is the heart.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

and do not lean on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge him,

and He will make your paths straight.

(Proverbs 3:5-6)

Am I choosing Him over all else? Am I following what He has set in front of me? Am I acknowledging Him above all? If I am, isn't He promising to make my paths straight? Isn't He promising to never leave or forsake? Isn't He promising that no eye has seen and no ear has heard of the things He has in store for those who love Him?

I believe He is.

So I made a choice. I made a decision to go down one path. I have mourned the loss of the good from the other path. I have mourned and feared the suffering and pain that is to come. But above all I have been reminded that "whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." (Philippians 3:7-8)

I believe and trust in a God who holds my days in His palm. He holds the days of my family members and friends in His palm. And He loves us and holds good for us. And I can rest and trust that.

And I don't have to be afraid of where this path will take me. Either path I chose, I was asked to make a daily choice to follow Jesus. That is what He required of His disciples, and that is what He requires of us now.

I have struggled with fear that I would make a wrong decision, that perhaps there really is a right and wrong in this fork. But I continue on in knowing that I need only acknowledge God each day, and I cannot go or do wrong.

So now, let us pray this each day in hopes that it will become our mindset.

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.

I do not see the road ahead of me.

I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself.

And the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you does, in fact, please you.

And I hope I have that desire in all I am doing.

I hope I will never do anything apart from that desire.

And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road,

though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore, will I trust you always though I may seem lost and in the shadow of death.

I will not fear for you are ever with me.

And you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

-Thomas Merton*

Amen.

*Many thanks to my dad for sending this to and praying this over me.

KUDL inspiration

2010-02-03T21:33:00.004-06:00

I know, I know, I already blogged today. I can't have anything that crucial to blog at the moment. Except if I don't capitalize on this creative energy now, it will be a thought lost in my mind, and you will never know it. Convincing, right? Eh...I know. Bear with me.

I have a job. As a part of that job, I wash dishes. A lot of dishes for hours on end some days. I have time doing dishes to think about things, while the radio plays in the background. Today's station: 98.1 KUDL...continuous soft rock. Playing all things Gloria Estefan, Celine Dion, David Archuleta, and Colbie Caillat. Great, right?

It is so terrible it is wonderful...anything helps doing hours of dishes.

That is, until this song comes on.

I am not sure any man gives me the creeps more than this man. Well, Jack Nicholson and some choice regulars at work come close, but seriously M.N., do not talk about lips and hips and drowning you in love. It freaks me out, and you gross me out. Stop it now.

Thankfully, immediately following the aforementioned song came the song of all songs. One of my dreams in life is to be able to sing this just like Kelly. Oh K.C., how you soothe my soul.

Then Delilah comes on. And in comes a call for a request:

D: "Tell me about this special someone."

W: "My husband is amazing...etc."

D: "What song can we play for him?"

W: "I don't know the name of it, but it talks about being someone's hero. I cry EVERY time I hear it."

And so, with this I end my 8.5 hour work shift. Ah, sweet goodbyes.

season 6

2010-02-03T10:46:00.003-06:00

There is nothing like being within dollars of running out of money in your bank account to make you budget and balance your checkbook like a mad woman. Seriously, it has become a thing of beauty. And I scraped it together, pooled my pennies to pay the credit card bill and gas bill and rent. And my car is fixed and back in all of his glory.

And I tithed this last week for the first time in a long time. I am rather ashamed at my lack of trust. I always knew I would have enough money to make it; I always do. There is always just enough. And yet I withheld for fear of running out?

In other news, I woke up this morning before 8 and promptly checked to see if Lost was online yet. BOOYAH ABC. Best morning surprise. OH MY GOSH SEASON PREMIERE YOU ARE EXCELLENT.

I thank him who has given me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord,

because he judged me faithful,

appointing me to his service,

though formerly I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent.

But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief,

and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me

with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance,

that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,

of whom I am the foremost.

But I received mercy for this reason,

that in me, as the foremost,

Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience

as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life.

To the King of ages,

immortal, invisible, the only God,

be honor and glory forever and ever.

(1 Timothy 1:12-17)

Good news to continue throughout the day and week and season.

with gratitude that flows

2010-02-01T20:27:00.004-06:00

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

a time to tear, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silent, and a time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time for war, and a time for peace.

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

What a bittersweet thought: leaving Kansas City. It begins to hit more closely each week I progress into this semester. It is the closing of a season. It's like watching the leaves begin to fall off the trees. It's beautiful to walk in the gold leaves, crunching them underfoot, yet knowing there is a painfully cold season ahead. And yet with winter comes snowy mornings and quiet evenings watching the snow fall and seeing breath in the air and drinking hot chocolate.

When I consider what comes ahead, what starting over really looks like, I don't want to go. I don't want to miss spontaneous calls to spend time with Kelley or my roommates and other beautiful friends. I don't want to have to try and find my way to places. I don't want to leave Redeemer.

Yet I tend to follow my gut, and my gut is saying go. My gut has been preparing me to go since I began to feel the tug in September. And there is a glorious beautiful season waiting just across the state lines.

In hearing from my friends and "people" in Haiti, I hear about devastation. 75% of Port-au-Prince will need to be rebuilt. Many people will never know what happened to loved ones. Most people I know have lost their homes.

And yet, those stories are always followed by "...but".

...But the mission hit water, something attempted dozens of times and for years on end. Finally, a well is established, and no longer will water need to be trucked in.

...But the warehouse is refilled with food every time it is emptied.

...But people acknowledge God is faithful.

No matter the season, no matter the disaster, whether great or small, God is faithful.

And we urge you brothers,

admonish the idle,

encourage the fainthearted,

help the weak,

be patient with them all...

Rejoice always,

pray without ceasing,

give thanks in all circumstances;

for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

Do not quench the Spirit...

hold fast what is good...

Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely,

and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless

at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

He who calls you is faithful;

he will surely do it.

(1 Thessalonians 5:14-24)

My hope is built on nothing less.

all things go

2010-01-25T10:47:00.003-06:00

Today is a monumental day.

It commences the countdown of week 15 to graduation.

It's the first Monday of the semester.

THEY HAVE FREE HOT CHOCOLATE IN THE UNION.

It's the day I apply to be a nurse.

It's the day I apply to be a nurse in Colorado.

WHOA.

When I came to Jewell I was nearly positive I wanted to be a pediatric oncology nurse. I was nearly positive that I would stay in Kansas City.

Then I shifted to hating nursing in all forms and was ready to move away.

I have wavered between here and Washington and Haiti and Oregon and Idaho and Uganda and all sorts of places.

And today, my application is to the State of Colorado.

My inbox holds messages from nurse recruiters in Denver and Colorado Springs...two places I swore I would never live. My job aspirations: not pediatrics.

And today I wait in anticipation for that day, the day I pack up my little car (assuming the timing belt is replaced and running like a dream) and come home, in a sense.

I like how life works out like this sometimes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I have been talking with some younger friends who are beginning to struggle and wrestle with the idea of what they are meant to do with their lives.

But really, who ever REALLY has one's life figured out? Because even though I have my state picked out, I have no idea what I am doing.

I sort of love it.

a heart full of mess

2010-01-23T19:15:00.000-06:00

There is no better medicine for a messy, heavy heart than these two faces:

Heard this evening:

"That's because I am really good at The Force."

"Do you know Master Yoda came here this morning to teach us The Force?"

"Do you know some babies are born with two heads?"

be near me

2010-01-22T21:23:00.000-06:00

I would like to think I am an emotionally stable person. I would like to think that I can keep a cool, calm head in all times. I would also like to think I am a kick ass runner, or completely secure in who I am, or that the world is full of good, trustworthy people.

Sometimes the things I think aren't really true.

I mean, I am emotionally stable, MOST of the time. But some days it isn't so easy.

Like the days your gas bill has increased by nearly 50%.

Or the days you find out the impending, very necessary repair on your car could be $500.

Or the days you realize you worked 4 hours in a week...totaling $32 before taxes.

Or the days your credit card bill for Christmas comes.

Other days too.

I talk out my anxieties. I talk out problems. I talk to my parents or my friends (saints, every one of them!), and I talk myself out of a breakdown. But before I calm down I have to talk it through.

So tonight, in spilling all of my fears about running out of money or risking my car breaking down to my dear Momma, I saw things a little clearer.

I have friends who have lost their homes and their friends and their families in a devastating disaster.

Dear people in my life have cancer.

People continue to go to sleep freezing and hungry on the streets tonight.

And I wake up each day and make the conscious decision to trust in Someone much bigger than myself.

I trust that my money will not run out, and that my bank account will increase enough to allow me to pay my bills.

I trust that my car won't break down before I can get the money and the time to fix it.

I trust that everything will fit in, in its proper time.

I trust not a single struggle or trial is wasted.

I trust in a God who is not angry or unjust, but a compassionate, faithful, loving, patient Lord who cares deeply for us.

Blessed be the Lord!

For He has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.

The Lord is my strength and my shield;

in Him my heart trusts, and I am helped;

my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to Him.

The Lord is the strength of His people;

He is the saving refuge of His anointed.

(Psalm 28:6-8)

Haiti Cherie

2010-01-15T09:02:00.000-06:00

Last night I came home to a package on my bed, all the way from Canada. Inside I found a present from Diana, a wooden plaque with a carved map of Haiti. Across the top, "Haiti Cherie" - or Dear Haiti.

On any day, it would make my heart ache to be with my Haitian friends and family. I would think of walking down the hill with Diana, of walking towards the Hope House to catch whoever hurtled herself into my arms, of bartering with the vendors, of river walking, of working in the clinic, of sitting on the playground to look at stars and pray.

But on this day, in these days, all those things ring true still, but with a sort of hollowness. I sit in my comfortable home, on stable ground, with water free flowing out of the tap. I have a refrigerator full of food, and lights that turn on. My phone rings, and I sleep through the night.

Today my family across the waters faces another day of aftershocks. They face another day of nonstop work to give comfort to their people. They face another day where water supplies run lower, gas sputters out, and medical supplies wear thin. Yet they continue on, helping as they can, where they can.

The other news stories will begin to take more time. Slowly, the story of the Haitian need will sputter out. Attention will fade away; it is natural. But I don't think the ache will leave my bones. I don't think I'll shake the feeling of sickness at the sheer need of my family in Haiti.

This is a dear member of this family. The clinic she speaks of is dear to my heart.

So this morning I continue to pray. Pray in thanksgiving for the safety of these dear ones...

I thank the Lord for the hand of protection over these dear brothers and dearest sister.

I continue to lift up these dear girls, my dear girls and boys from Good Samaritan, who have not been heard from to my knowledge.

I wonder over these village children - are they safe? Will their joy return in these days of utter fear and darkness?

The news from the mission is not hopeless. With intact buildings they are in a much better situation than most. Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

God is our refuge and strength,

a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not dear though the earth gives way,

though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam,

though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy habitation of the Most High.

God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;

God will help her when morning dawns.

The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;

he utters his voice, the earth melts.

The LORD of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come, behold the works of the LORD,

how he has brought desolations on the earth.

He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;

he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;

he burns the chariots with fire.

"Be still, and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!"

The LORD of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

(Psalm 46)

relent

2010-01-13T09:31:00.000-06:00

I am...across a distant sea,

but I carry you in me,

and in the dust on my feet.

If you follow my blog at all, or know me in any form, you know I spent 10 weeks in Haiti, just miles north of Port-au-Prince, some 30 or so miles north of the epicenter. I cannot begin to formulate thoughts or words to encompass what the last 15 hours have been like.

Be not far God.

Do not abandon these people.

I read your promise this morning in Joel 2:

The Lord your God is gracious

and merciful,

slow to anger,

and abounding in steadfast love;

and HE relents over disaster.

May I begin to trust those words, to believe the truth of who God is, to not be overwhelmed by the devastation and begin to doubt You.

I celebrate the survival of each of my friends who live at the mission, each of the 60 kids who live there, to know that Roberto, Clara, Emmanuella, Widler, Kethia, Jean Marc, Esther, Rose Berline, Jeremiah, Hannah, Matthew, Christopher, Clifton, Mansado, Diana, Rachel, the Van der Marks, Loudiana, Loudmina, the Rumfords - the countless faces of my MOH family are alive. Also, this just in, the Tytoo Gardens kids are all well too (one of the orphanages I visited weekly).

And my heart is heavy, because for each person I know is well, there are another three that I have not heard about. My dear brothers who became my best friends there, Sadrac and Wicky and Vulcy and the Cenea family, and Nathalie, and Mimos and her daughters, the drivers and teachers, Blondie and Dr. Jenifer and Dr. Alix and Ms. Anita, the kids of Good Samaritan, my precious Wendalyn and Paula and Paulo and baby Luc and baby Rebecca and baby Alix and Wadson. The people of the surrounding villages, and each of the other 9 million people in Haiti.

These are the first names to come to mind, but that doesn't begin to cover it.

I continue to pray Romans 8, groaning along with creation for the redemption of our world and our selves. This world continues to crumble under the weight of brokenness. Come, long expected Jesus, through your Kingdom on earth now. May we find ways to instill hope in the lives of our devastated brothers and sisters.

when Satan tempts me to despair

2010-01-03T22:04:00.000-06:00

I led an extremely blessed childhood, sheltered from the pain that a lot of people are forced to grow up in and amongst. My days were spent watching The Chipmunk Adventure and walking to Texaco for Nerds and ballet classes and Court Players and plenty else. Even into high school, where I was confronted with loneliness and the superiority of the wealthy, I continued to live a good life.

It wasn't until this last summer when the idea of suffering began to take root in my heart. When the brokenness became more apparent, and before the idea of Hell on earth was more tangible. And I came home forever different.

And into this semester the idea of Hell, the battle that goes on in this world between good and evil, it rages on. And tomorrow is another day.

Today the question was posed: what do you hate? What about the world, about the Hell that ravages the people and places around you, drives you to anger? Figure it out, and do something about it.

In the beginning was the Word,

and the Word was with God,

and the Word was God.

He was in the beginning with God.

All things were made through him,

and without him was not any thing made that was made.

In him was life,

and the life was the light of men.

The light shines in the darkness,

and the darkness has not overcome it.

(John 1:1-5)

For the creation was subjected to futility,

not willingly, but because of him who subjected it,

in hope that the creation itself will be set free

from its bondage to corruption

and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.

For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together...

And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit,

groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons,

the redemption of our bodies.

For in this hope we were saved.

Now hope that is seen is not hope.

For who hopes for what he sees?

But if we hope for what we do not see,

we wait for it with patience.

(Romans 8:20-25)

It's a broken, fragile, screwed up world. But it is not overcome, and we are not hopeless.

all promises find their Yes in Him

2009-12-23T23:17:00.000-06:00

What if...is a dangerous place to be. We look at a situation and wonder "what if..."

Example: What if...I go skiing and get a concussion and die.

That is a rather extreme example. I may have thought this at one point in my life. Or several points. BUT the point is that what if keeps us from life. What if keeps us from experiencing things that may scare us or make us angry or break our hearts or enrich our lives.

What if I made a mistake? What if I left Kansas City in May? What if I stayed in Kansas City in May? What if I embarrass myself? What if I run out of money? What if I never go back to Haiti? What if I get stuck living the American Dream and am too scared or comfortable to get out?

In the last few weeks I have gotten in the habit of shutting myself up if I catch myself asking "what if?" Because I don't want to miss out on life.

The God who made the world

and everything in it,

being Lord of Heaven and Earth,

does not live in temples made by man,

nor is He served by human hands,

as though He needed anything,

since He himself gives to mankind

life and breath and everything.

And He made from one man every nation of mankind

to live on all the face of the earth,

having determined allotted periods

and the boundaries of their dwelling place,

that they should seek God,

in the hope that they might feel their way toward Him

and find Him.

Yet He is actually not far from each one of us,

for "In him we live and move and have our being."

(Acts 17:24-28)

I'm not sure I know how that passage technically makes me stop asking what ifs, but it seems to point out that I have no control over my life. We get life and breath and movement and the ability to think and connect and love and hurt and empathize and yell and scream and laugh from Him. So listen to the directions, follow the lead set in front of you, and go live.

I am pretty sure this is what life could feel like if I stopped asking what if.

A Better Story (Part 2)

2009-12-20T23:12:00.000-06:00

Update: I went for another run today. I still walked a lot. Tomorrow I walk, solely walk. It makes running easier.

So yesterday after I chose to walk instead of run, Sara Groves instead of Glee, pray instead of complain, these words were rather pressing:

we come with beautiful secrets

we come with purposes written on our hearts

we come to every new morning,

with possibilities only we can hold

i want to add to the beauty,

to tell a better story

it comes in small inspirations

it brings redemption to life and work

it comes in loving community

it comes in helping a soul find its worth

redemption comes in strange places,

small spaces

calling out the best of who we are

and this is grace: an invitation to be beautiful

And as I listened to this and reflected on winter and the cold air and the barren trees - I felt the hope that creation carries in beauty and burning lungs. Then I was taken to a very different place, a very different home than this one.

Twins, abandoned, malnourished, dehydrated, sick.

Those same twins, a few months later. Happy, healthy, loved.

THAT is a better story. The small acts that brought these two children into the arms of people who could mobilize to help them, the formula bought by village people to feed these two, the doctor who could care for them, the arms that were there to hold and feed and cuddle and console.

From barren to growing - a reminder of faithfulness and the impending kingdom of God, that we are left to carry on. That, as in Acts, we are here to point people to a better story, to add to the beauty, to carry the light, redemption and grace.

But now dear friends, my heart is heavy for a new one. Another one to add to the list of the countless names and faces I have shown you in the past few months.

Matthew. Age 7 months. Sick and starved, left on a dirty, cement floor alone.

He's been taken in! He has new arms to love him and feed him and cuddle him, just like the twins above. He has a new family of nearly 60 brothers and sisters to grow up alongside. It's a long, hard, uphill road ahead of this little guy. But seeing Hannah and Jeremiah's faces now proves that all is not lost.

And for each of these stories I have countless others. The Lord is continually prodding me, whispering something that my heart begins to stir with, but I don't know what it is. But I do know that when I think about my life, no matter what I do, I want to be adding to the beauty, pointing out the redemption in this very broken world. And whether that is with restaveks or rape victims or special needs children, I hope that I won't be too afraid to pull myself out of comfort and complacency.

Maybe that's one thing running will teach me.

A Better Story (Part 1)

2009-12-19T13:14:00.000-06:00

I love being home. After a semester of gritting my teeth and whining and complaining about being away from where I wanted to be, it is a relief to be here. To wake up early and drink coffee with my dad. To look out my front door and be greeted by a snow-covered mountain view. To have family movie night with Mom, Dad, Grandma, and BFF. Home is happy.

Yesterday morning my dad and I took our dogs for a walk at at Fox Run. We met lots of other people and dogs, and I got my first puppy time of the season. When we got back in the car, I looked over at the mountains and thought "It's amazing how much this place feels like home, even though I never have lived here." Because Colorado, as a place, is much more of home than Kansas City. Don't get me wrong, I love Kansas City. But I find much more rest and joy in just being in Colorado...even if it is the opposite side of the state.

I've started to read Acts again, and for some reason unknown to me, I love the book. I suppose what I have learned in the last few days is that it is a book that resonates with the world I see right now. Jesus, having just left his disciples, has left them with quite the task in front. And as they receive the Holy Spirit and encounter the idolatry of the time, they begin to fight back against the hopelessness of the world. They bring the news of Hope, though it is a news that is fought against. It is a news that leaves people stoned and running for their lives.

It is a news that seems to tell people "You don't have life figured out, and you're killing yourself trying to find value and worth and meaning and life in temporal, slight, and meaningless things, in idols."

Sounds a little bit like the world today.

So after I read some more of Acts, about Judas's bowels splitting open, I pulled my butt off the couch. I changed my clothes and grabbed my iPod and forced myself out the door. It's running time.

I got across Vickers and realized that it was going to be a difficult jaunt. I love Colorado, the blue sky, the...thin air? I managed to run for a bit, then got angry.

I hate running, I thought to myself.

This sucks.

I can't even breathe a full breath in, my lungs hurt, and I'll never get in shape at this rate.

As I rounded a corner, I was smacked with a perfect view of Pikes Peak on a clear, sunny, chilly morning, dusted with snow. I stopped running, and just looked for a moment, before I decided that I would much rather walk. I switched my playlist from Glee singles and pop hits that kick my butt into gear to Sara Groves.

So then I thought about how the cold air hurt my lungs, a slight burn that exercise and altitude combined creates. And as much as I dislike the sensation, I realized that it's a reminder of hope. How? In a world that is seemingly dead, barren, and frozen, cold air wakes us up. It opens our eyes and moves our muscles and reminds us that there is something there. That life is behind us and before us and among us. That the dry bones will be renewed, that the desert will bloom again, that injustice will be righted, and that hope is here.

At least, that's the way I felt it today.

This semi-revelation continued throughout my morning walk, and I'm eager to formulate the thoughts. To be continued...

just do it

2009-12-16T08:46:00.000-06:00

As every break begins, I wonder to myself "How am I going to come back different?"

Because if we aren't changing, if we aren't growing, if we aren't refining, then what the heck are we doing?

Farewell Kansas City - see you in 5 weeks!

Bye, Bye, By(e) (The Book)

2009-12-10T11:25:00.000-06:00

Two years and four months ago I walked from campus down to the Liberty Square.

My destination: By The Book

My objective: to get a job

My result: VICTORY!

And this morning, I sit in the front window of By The Book, looking out on the same exact Square. It's been a good two and a half years. And we have seen a lot change within these walls in that time.

Tonight at 6 PM, we close By The Book for the last time.

I tell people that working at By The Book is like working in the middle of a hybrid episode of Cheers, Gilmore Girls, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

And despite my complaints of some of the regulars (like the time the guy blew on my neck?!) and the automatic espresso machine, each time I walk through the old wooden door and under the ridiculous maroon awning, it's a little bit like going home.

I've been a part of the transition from bookstore to cafe to hosting live music. I've got Saturday mornings down. I know how long to heat the extra hot strata and which mug to use for the triple shot latte that goes alongside. I know who wants the same drink each time they come in. I know when to reach for the cranberry nut muffin and when it goes in the sack or on the plate.

These people, triple shot mocha whipped cream no lid, "big" vanilla latte EXTRA vanilla, peanut butter mocha man, sugar free caramel skim milk latte in a mug, "baby" americano with two shots and a lot of room, these people were By The Book's people. And we, the employees, were their people too.

It is a sad day in Liberty, Missouri. This is a significant part of my life. Thanks for the memories, By The Book. It's like the passing of an old friend. I'll miss you.

7 Things

2009-12-08T14:34:00.000-06:00

I have a list of things compiling in my head of what to do over Christmas break. It is, after all, my final break of school. Ever. Well, maybe not ever, but since I don't intend on returning to school anytime soon, it is ever.

1) Watch Away We Go. Any movie with Alexi Murdoch behind the music I am destined to love.

2) Bake cookies. I love baking cookies. I will have lots of time to perfect some delicious recipes. Any ideas? I have to try to make these too. Delicious!

3) Find some puppies and play with them. I would like to repeat this event several times.

4) Start learning how to sew. Because if I am ever going to make my own dresses, I need to start learning.

5) Read some books. Currently on my list:

The Omnivore's Dilemma

I just looked through every book on my shelf for some more inspiration. Clearly, I need some more suggestions.

6) Go on a walk every day. Why? Because I love walking, and I hate running. That's why.

7) Explore. I don't know much about Colorado Springs or Denver or anywhere on the Front Range. I plan on lots of solo exploration, and some not so solo exploration.

Tomorrow's the big day people. After tomorrow, at approximately 12:20 PM, I will be free falling into freedom.

Sticking it to "The Man"

2009-12-07T20:08:00.000-06:00

Courtesy of a Southwest runway delay and a very entertaining stewardess:

Three men are walking in the desert and bump into a genie's lamp.

The genie pops out and asks the first man what his wish is.

"I want to be the strongest man in the world."

"Are you sure about that?" asks the genie.

"Yes!" the man replied, and POOF, his wish was granted.

The genie asks the second man what his wish is.

"I want to be the richest man in the world."

"Are you sure about that?" asks the genie.

"Yes!" the man replied, and POOF, his wish was granted.

The genie asks the third man what his wish is.

"I want to be the smartest man in the world."

"Are you sure about that?" asks the genie.

"Yes!" the man replied, and POOF, he turned into a woman.

Yeah, you are welcome!

Today I went to the store, intending to buy a few things. You know, apples and yogurt, the necessities to carry me through the next week. As I walked past the cosmetics area, I noticed that over the aisles were signs that said "Beauty". Each sign had some sort of eyeliner or lip gloss. They were on all white backgrounds, with bright gold eyeshadow powder and red lip stain.

Internally something revolted. That isn't what beauty is. And I am tired of the lies, of the misleading representation of beauty. Because when I think of beauty, I want to think first of these things:

Dearest Loveli, the most tempered, measured, independent girl.

Paula, with the eyes and smile that will steal your heart the instant you meet her.

The sunrise of all sunrises

The official joker & laugh machine of the Parsons family.

We live in a polluted and perverted society. I don't really think we'll ever change that as we'd like. I don't think our self-deprecation or judgmental attitudes will ever fully go away. But I think we all long for true, deep beauty. The kind of beauty that comes from a newborn baby or an unobstructed view of creation or in watching someone utilize his or her giftedness. Beauty comes in PB&J smeared faces and sweaty Haitian children in polyester dresses. Beauty comes in encouraging other people, in serving other people, and in dying to self.

Because, just like Psalms says, those who look to Him are radiant.

So...take that, Target cosmetics department. I boycott your products and advertising today. Figure out how to bottle some liquid joy from Paula, and maybe I'll reconsider our relationship.

Half Full? Half Empty? Half Over? Half Started?

2009-12-06T12:49:00.000-06:00

The year of 2009 held a lot. When I reflect upon the year of 2009, I can truly say it was the most radical, unexpected, life-altering year of my life.

Today is St. Nicholas Day, when my family used to open stockings. Now that we are scattered to the four corners, we don't get to do that together. But I always love this day. It is also, ahem, my half birthday. Which is no big deal, but I was thinking that meant I am 21 1/2 today. Was it really 6 months ago? So much has happened since then.

This was 6 months ago today...

Each time I look at this picture, I am reminded of how the Lord orders our steps. How I was blessed to meet such friends as Diana and Mal. How Volcy and Sadrac and Wicky give of themselves each and every day, giving to each other and to their neighbors and to strange white girls who show up and don't know anything. They took me in, called me "Ti Fi" (little girl), and became my surrogate big brothers.

2009 is swiftly coming to a close. 2010, the year of all years, is around the corner. It will (hopefully) be a year of graduation, a year of endings and beginnings, and the year of kicking cancer's ass. Because that's what the road ahead is. So here we go.

Yet before those days come, we plod along in the sometimes dreary, sometimes painful, sometimes joyful, sometimes long days and steps.

Thankfully, I have a toffee nut cookie to keep me company in this moment.

a swell season

2009-12-05T20:13:00.000-06:00

When I got off the plane tonight, I wanted to ask the pilot to turn right around and take me back. I'd hitchhike back if I needed to.

I felt a little sad walking through the airport. Then I was greeted by these faces:

And now as I sit in the quiet of my house, reflecting on the sweetness of my last week, I am reminded that the beauty is surrounding me, that the people of my life are beautiful and precious, and I can rest in the ways they point me towards something greater than myself.

Thanks and Hope

2009-12-03T10:31:00.000-06:00

At the moment I am sitting in Presbyterian St. Luke's Medical Center in Denver, next to my precious mother who is recovering from her second surgery this month. Her surgery went better than we could have expected. I am overwhelmed with gratitude to each and every person who prayed and wrote and called and encouraged yesterday - it has been quite the journey the last few weeks. Please know the Parsons family is so grateful for our community, for the kingdom of God that is so evident in our lives.

God is about healing and restoration. My dad reminded me of this yesterday. We live in a world where sin and brokenness have polluted the beauty and goodness that God intended. We live in a world where cancer eats away at healthy tissues and babies are lost and children are left alone, fending for themselves on the streets.

I have confronted those things in the last 6 months. I have kicked and screamed against God, asking Him why and where He is. I have questioned whether He is here, whether He cares.

He patiently waited for me to take a deep breath, and He let me know He is here. He is working. That I have hope in things outside of this world. That poverty never goes away, and cancer will destroy, and we will never be able to save anyone ultimately. That sin is real. That we must repent from our own - and then DO something about it.

"Be an agent of mercy" He says.

For the grace of God has appeared,

bringing salvation for all people,

training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions,

and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age,

waiting for our blessed hope,

the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ,

who gave himself for us

to redeem us from all lawlessness

and to purify for himself a people for his own possession

who are zealous for good works.

(Titus 2:11-14)

And I am continually reminded that we wait with great hope and anticipation for the Kingdom of God to fully appear, that our Rock of Ages has satisfied justice and written His mercy on our hearts and hands, so we stand in faith, our hope secure in the love and grace of our Father.

And until the Kingdom has arrived in all glory and fullness, the extension of love and support, the selfless giving, the persistence in trying, and the dying to self is the building up of the Kingdom now, the Kingdom here that is shining through the dark clouds overhead.

Soon we will hear from pathology and know more about the potential chemotherapy and radiation. Here is our road now, to continue on with faith, walk with grace our feet and faith our eyes.

(Many thanks to Redeemer Fellowship, Sandra McCracken, Jena Lee,

Sara Groves, and Caedmon's Call for the beautiful words.)

Thanksgiving and beyond

2009-11-26T21:06:00.000-06:00

Thank you Rosie for this wonderful gift - better believe it will be one repeat most of the next month!

Random

2009-11-22T22:02:00.001-06:00

That last post was a fail. Because - WHERE ARE THE PICTURES?

I really wanted everyone to see metallic furry Uggs.

Oh there you go.

Tonight I cleaned my room. I mean, cleaned it a lot. I listened to some Glee favorites. People, I have the "Glee Goosebumps". They are just SO good...the singers, that is. The plot leaves something to be desired, especially when Finn sings to Quinn about having his baby. I have never cringed so much. I wish I could link the video, but I can't.

So - when I finished cleaning my room, I looked to my spare change jar. I love to collect spare change, because then when the jar full you have $40 to your name. However, tonight I found very little spare change on my floor/pockets as I cleaned. I really must be poorer than I thought.

Sundays are the only day of the week I don't look forward to the next stage of my life. I will miss Redeemer so much.

Rock of Ages, when in want or rest

My desperate need for such a Savior I confess.

Pull these idols out from my heart's embrace,

Rock of Ages I need your grace.

Rock of Ages, my great hope secure,

Your promise holds just like an anchor to my soul.

Bind your children with cords of love and grace,

Rock of Ages, we give you praise.

Holiday Cheer?

2009-11-21T10:20:00.001-06:00

In spirit of the coming holiday season, I was struck with some blogging thoughts.

If you are carrying a designer handbag, purse, or wallet, I am probably judging you. What is the advantage of carrying a Coach bag over one from T.J. Maxx? What is the purpose of spending exorbitant amounts of money on something to carry gum, some money, a phone, tampons, receipts, gum wrappers, and your $15 lip gloss? LAME.

PEOPLE - THIS IS $400!

And what about these???

I think these are the ugliest things I have seen. METALLIC, fur trimmed Uggs. You too can sport these for $225.

I could go on about designer jeans and $38 headbands. But I will stop.

So until Christmas has past I hope to avoid the mall. Today I set my sights on the homemade presents I am planning - here's hoping I learn to be creative and crafty quickly!

When life takes a turn

2009-11-18T13:30:00.000-06:00

Sometimes life takes a turn. Relationships begin, relationships end, your dream unravels, you find a "calling", your mom gets diagnosed with cancer.

And in those moments, you deny, you sit numbly, you cry, you get angry, your errands take you to the grocery store far away because you just can't go into the normal store. You keep yourself busy with the mundane, you don't tell people. You fold the clothes and go for walks and take 10 hours to write 2 and 1/2 pages.

You receive countless e-mails and phone calls. You get text messages and notes and gifts of sour candy and food and even plane tickets. People lend listening ears and hurting hearts and open arms.

Today I had two professors rearrange schedules and plans - all to allow me the opportunity to go home for the coming surgery. It is the second to last week of classes, and I will miss four of the five days. My presentations and tests are moved and flexible.

"You need to be there" they both told me.

Today I had someone ignore whatever plans were made for that week, and I have a ride back to Colorado. I will get to be at the hospital. I will get to annoy the nurses telling them how to do their jobs. I will get to be there.

Let me tell you something about the kingdom of God. I have seen it this week. I have seen the kingdom of God rally around the hurting members of my family. I have seen encouragement and heard their prayers. I have sat in my car and walked down the street and laid in my bed and been reduced to tears by the sheer volume of love. My heart is heavy and hurting, how I wish to be sitting next to my dear, sweet mom on the couch. But in all ways I see the kingdom envelope the hurt and offer comfort.

Thank you friends. Thank you on behalf of the entire family. We are loved, and you bless us each day.

a kind of grace

2009-11-13T15:18:00.000-06:00

I think when you begin 4 separate blogs, and then delete each of them in turn, you shouldn't blog. Perhaps you just aren't ready with words to say.

I'm waiting for clarity to come, though for now the numbness will have to suffice.

If, If, If

2009-11-09T19:55:00.000-06:00

I get frustrated when I catch myself speaking in "if only"...

If only I could move to Colorado.

If only I could make it through Community.

If only I could make it through spring semester.

If only I could get a graduate nurse job in the ER.

If only I could run every day.

If only I had the money.

If only I pass my boards.

If only I was smarter.

If only I was more dedicated.

If only, if only, if only.

Can you say insecurity??? I mean, people, it is getting absurd. And I think I am beginning to waste my life away. I am returning to that circus monkey mentality that Donald Miller talks about - and it is so unsatisfying.

"So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him." (2 Corinthians 5:9)

If only I could please him, then I may finally get it.

such great heights

2009-11-06T11:55:00.000-06:00

You show that you are a letter from Christ delivered to us,

written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God,

not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.

Such is the confidence that we have through Christ our God.

Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us,

but our sufficiency is from God,

who has made us competent

to be ministers of a new covenant,

not of the letter but of the Spirit.

For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.

Since we have such a hope,

we are very bold...

when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed.

Now the Lord is the Spirit,

and where the Spirit of the Lord is,

there is freedom.

And we all,

with unveiled face,

beholding the glory of the Lord,

are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another.

(2 Corinthians 3:3-6; 12-18)

Words to mull over, to saturate your mind.

Books, Beauty, Beast, and Babbling

2009-10-30T09:51:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was asked if I would ever be interested in owning a Kindle. You have to admit, it's attractive. I am an avid book buyer/reader/hoarder. I bought countless amounts of books when By The Book began to liquidate the bookstore, and I have yet to read any of them. It just isn't the right time yet. I think it will be the right time someday, you just have to wait for it. If I tried to read Everything is Illuminated when I was in fact in a Walden mood, it just wouldn't work.

When I go on trips, I am terrified I will read all my books before the trip ends. So I always bring more books than I could possibly read. I pack two in my suitcase. I carry three on my person.

5 books in a 4 day weekend? It never happens.

1 book in a 4 day weekend? It never happens.

Reading 0 books in a 4 day weekend? Happens often.

So - a Kindle makes sense for me right? It enables my problem. It allows me to carry hundreds of books in one sleek, fashionable piece of technology.

There's just one problem.

I love books too much.

The stories, yes. Without them, I would have never known about Middle Earth or Hogwarts or Mercy and Sharing. I wouldn't know about the hospital in Srebrenica during the war, or what really happens with Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, or that child soldier rehabilitation really is possible. I wouldn't have become passionate about certain things without stories.

And on top of that, I love books. Libraries make me introspective. Books hold so much information, and they are beautiful. The smell of old books is incredible. The pages of new books make me excited - I get to be the first person to read the story here.

I am pretty sure that if someone ever wants me to fall in love with them, they need to watch Beauty and the Beast.

the wrecking ball

2009-10-26T22:15:00.000-05:00

The last few days have been painful. The ache is tangible for somewhere other than here, but there is a new pain to be added to the mix.

It's the pain of learning you are wrong. I am weak. I am a sinner. I am messy.

But above all that I am prideful. That makes seeing weakness, sin, and mess very difficult to acknowledge.

I am in love with the people of Haiti. I miss the people of Haiti. I learned and grew and lived simply and joyfully. It is hard to come here, but I was reminded tonight that here is not my home. There is not my home either.

My home is with the Lord. I serve a Lord who loves me despite the fact that I look judgmentally on life, hiding behind my self-righteousness. I do desire to follow Him, and I am failing at it. But, as I am reminded every week at Redeemer, it has nothing to do with what I have done. I have nothing to merit my name. I have only Christ, and He has redeemed my soul from death.

The way he loves these precious ones, in the midst of the suffering without consistent meals or shelter from the rains...

The way he looks upon each child in Haiti, in every nation, how he knows every detail of their existence...
The way my parents' love for me and my siblings mirrors His love, but is only a slight reflection of the overwhelming love of Christ...

His love is stronger, bigger, immeasurable, immovable. stubborn. And that gives me hope because even though I can be stubborn and unmoved in my pride, His love wins. Every time.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)

Lord, may your power rest upon me in the coming days.

hold your mistake up

2009-10-25T22:53:00.001-05:00

Today I wrote a lot of negative blogs. I started three of them in fact. I talked candidly about the messiness of my heart with some dear friends in my life this afternoon. My heart aches for the place where I felt lived among joy and freedom and openly broken people.

I miss cuddling with these girls every week. I have never felt so loved.

I miss everything about this girl. Thank goodness for skype and January 5th!

And yet, when the pain and the ache is so tangible, I am so blessed and reminded of the Lord's faithfulness and sovereignty when I am with these girls.

And most of all I get to celebrate time with my family, perhaps the greatest reminder of the fact that I am dearly loved by an unfathomable Lord.

without thy sweet mercy, i could not live here

sin would reduce me to utter despair

but through thy free goodness my spirit revives

and he that first made me still keeps me alive.

thy mercy is more than a match for my heart

which wonders to feel its own hardness depart.

dissolved by thy goodness, i fall to the ground

and weep for the praise of the mercy i've found.

Counting down.

2009-10-24T00:12:00.001-05:00

There are some things that I really, really, really don't like. I am angry at the moment, so I want to say hate, but I won't. I will not let my emotions rule me, darn it!

Mostly it centers around one thing: America.

No, the western world.

I don't like it when people demand things rather than ask for them.

When people are inconsiderate of each other.

When 14 year olds talk about me to my face.

When people spend more money on worthless crap, on getting whatever is bigger and better at the moment.

When college life means so much that I don't want it to mean. I don't belong here. I can't belong here. All I want to do is leave, get out and leave it behind. I don't think I would give it a second thought if I didn't find the diploma something I sort of needed for the next step in my life.

I feel a lot better now - and I realize most of this has nothing to do with the western world, but something much deeper.

I miss the nights sitting at the Cistern and watching the lights of Port-au-Prince across the water.

I miss Jean Marc playing guitar in Diana's apartment.

I miss learning Creole in the pharmacy, giving people medicine.

I miss walking through villages and meeting new faces every time.

I miss walking through villages and seeing the same faces.

I miss the rain and thunder and lightening.

And walks with Diana.

And playing ball with Trigger.

And the Hope House kids.

And my four-wheeler that never stayed turned on but had to be popped into first while holding down the gas.

And tonight, I miss the rest. The ability to draw away, to be alone, to recharge, to sleep long and hard, and to wake up without any fear of missing an ounce of life, because the sun is just beginning to peak over the mountain behind the house. And where a new day starts with the same cup of coffee.

...even if it does use powdered creamer.

New Directions

2009-10-23T14:13:00.000-05:00

I have transplanted over. Why you may ask? Simple...I made up my blog name years ago - and I got sick of it. It was too hard to direct people to, too complicated to explain. So...I changed it. New Directions!

Anyone get the Glee reference?

Speaking of Glee, I love it. It is so silly, so dramatic and traumatic, so musically addictive. I mean, Don't Stop Believing has never sounded so good. Or made me such a runner! Seriously, it will make you a runner. So inspirational.

I would like to start a glee club at Jewell. Better yet, I would like to be in some adult glee club after college. Yeah! Better start looking.

I have so much I want to blog about: fall leaves, running, Colorado, freedom, some other things. But I am working right now and probably shouldn't. Coming soon, however, you shall find these thoughts of mine spilt onto the pages of the internet for all to read.

Only 6.5 weeks. YES.

October 15, 2009

2009-10-15T16:31:00.000-05:00

If I say birth, it probably conjures up some disturbing, painful, smelly, or unpleasant memories/images. You may think of the video they show in Sex Ed. You may think of the idea that it feels like pooping out a basketball. Apparently, that is somewhat close to how it feels. Or you may have some other things come to mind. I'll leave those to you.

Today I went to my last day of clinical in OB or labor & delivery or however you choose to call it. I have had a great 5 weeks on the floor. I put in catheters! I held lots of babies! I made beds and answered call lights and refilled water jugs and started showers and learned a lot about breast feeding. I would trade all of that for today.

I went into the room on the floor and met the couple at 6:00 this morning. The doctor came in and broke her water, and she was dilated to 4 cm. It's that point in labor where you transition into active labor - everything is getting started, and people get excited. The mom was happy and calm. She sat up, laid on her side, laughed at jokes.

2 hours go by. We came into to "check her", meaning see if she had dilated. Her epidural had kicked in, and she couldn't feel anything. You know what that means people...I GET TO CHECK HER. I felt a 6 cm cervix. 2 hours later, 2 centimeters. Good progress.

Take a break...watch a C-Section on a different couple. The doctor talked me through the process after they got the baby out. I was struck by the unfair advantage the dad has over the mom. I mean, she does the work over the 9 months. Sure, he puts up with mood swings and cravings, but she gets the back pain and swollen ankles and diet restrictions. Anything she does or does not do potentially hurts the baby. Then she gets strapped onto a table and gets the baby cut out of her, laying there while they stitch her up while the dad gets to take pictures and make sure the baby is alright. He stands by, proud, while doctors and nurses control bleeding and stitch up a uterus, then the abdominal muscles, then the fat layer, then the skin. I leave as the mom finally gets to hold her baby - close to 30 minutes following delivery. SHE HAS TO WAIT 30 MINUTES BEFORE SHE GETS TO HOLD HER BABY. Needless to say, I left slightly in a huff. Though the procedure was fascinating to watch.

Return to my couple's room. 2 hours later...and she's dilated to 6 cm still. No change. So we started her on pitocin, against her initial wishes, though she decides she is alright with starting pitocin, as long as it doesn't hurt the baby. The entire day the mom asks whether what her decision is affects the baby. The couple are so invested in this little life they have yet to see. What a beautiful thought.

Move along. Dilated to 8 cm. Eat lunch. Dilated to 9 cm. I check on her 30 minutes later to find her no longer calm, no longer cheerful, but in tears. She is frustrated. She is unhappy. She is in pain. And she is so ready to have this baby.

9.5 cm.

An hour later...10 CENTIMETERS.

And then the work really begins. Take apart the bed, pull up the stirrups, and push. Teach how to push. Deep breath in, push it out. Soothe, correct, encourage, repeat. I stood uncomfortably at the foot of the bed, holding one of her feet, pushing my weight against hers as she pushed.

The cheer is gone, the pain is worse. Next comes anger and frustration. Some common phrases I heard:

"I can't do this."

"It's too hard."

"Can't you just pull it out?"

"Give me a C-Section!"

"Give me a stronger epidural?"

"I'm too tired."

"Please don't make me do this anymore."

Scan to the dad's face. It's white. He's trying to be encouraging. He tries to comfort her, and she pushes him away. She tells him they are never having another baby. Then she refuses to push.

Meanwhile, her temperature is rising, and so is the baby's heart rate. There is meconium (baby's stool in the amniotic fluid in utero) in the fluid, meaning the baby could have breathed it in. That means potential problems. The nurse gets a little more antsy, insisting the baby has to come now, so it was time to stop saying she couldn't and tell herself she could and would.

Somehow my hand was grabbed. Somehow my head ended up by the mom's. And somehow I found myself looking her in the eye and telling her to push. I had no idea what I was saying most of the time, I was just telling her she could do it. And I believed she could. I had watched her come this far. I knew she could make it the rest of the way. Plus, I could see the top of the baby's head.

And on it went for about another 30 minutes. Until finally, the head was out, out popped one shoulder, then another. Then the rest of the body was out, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

But then something wasn't right. The doctor cut the cord, not the dad. The 2 NICU nurses took the baby and started working. I started to watch until the mom started to panic.

"Why isn't she crying? What's wrong?"

The nurse begins to try to calm her, and the mom begins to cry. The dad starts to cry. And then, believe it or not, I start to cry. Because I am hearing nothing from the baby. And I am hearing one of the nurses say "The baby isn't responding." Too quietly for the parents to hear, but I hear it.

So the mom is asking me what is wrong, and I have no idea. And I am looking around the room and praying my hardest that baby girl survives. Because throughout the day I have begun to love her and to love her parents. And after all this work, after the fight of the last 9 months, they deserve to have their baby alive. And they deserve to have a healthy baby.

And then, at minute 2:38, the gasp happens. And she cries.

And then we all cry.

And mom is pleasant again. She thanks me again and again for holding her hand and for coaching her through it. And I just tell her how grateful I am for the day with their family. I take their family picture, then I say my goodbyes. It's 15 minutes past my time to leave. But I am stopped by the mom...

"But you have to get your picture with her!"

Meaning the baby. So I scooped up all 8 lbs, 14 ounces of cuddly goodness and smiled.

I walked out of the room, a little stunned, rather joyful, and mostly emotional.

I think I found something that could keep me in hospitals a little longer than anticipated.

Ramble, grumble, and anticipate

2009-10-14T15:39:00.000-05:00

I am sitting at my dining room table. My foot is shaking nervously. I am antsy. I change my position frequently. I look around the room, switching songs 30 seconds in, trying to distract myself from the present dilemma.

Then I decide to look at Craigslist. I am finding the perfect apartments. I am finding the perfect puppies. The weather will hold for a few more weeks. My heart is ready today. It is time, says the biological clock - not in the sense of...you know, biology. More the internal rhythm has settled here for too long. I like Kansas City. I would come back and live in Kansas City. But now - now it is time for things to change.

Kansas City has been good to be for the last 6+ years. I can't believe it's been this long. I think the day I leave here will be a sad day. But my gut tells me that something waits outside the realm of the city lights. Something's out there - and I think I have touched on it before, it's just figuring out where it is.

Friday marks 25% completion of this final year. Go back to getting off the plane at MCI, mourning the return from Haiti, but shrieking and hugging my mom so tightly in the airport. Then go forward to this point. So much has happened in those short 7 weeks. And so much more will happen in the following 7 weeks.

I don't want to figure out my life. I don't want to make a new plan. I don't want to have a place lined up. I just want to be able to live life with my family. It is the most recent development in my mind. I miss them so tangibly. I am antsy with the idea that the day after tomorrow I will be driving up to my parent's house, spending the weekend with dear friends in a new town. Exploring the possibilities with some guidance from a seasoned veteran of Colorado Springs.

I'll breathe in some cleaner air and pray again for patience and direction and peace in my place. What a shame it would be to waste the remaining 75% to only find I have nothing figured out, and I am actually scared out of my mind.

That's the key. I am scared. I am lost. And I am ready.

designed

2009-10-12T12:55:00.000-05:00

"The spaces left undefined by technology and the fields where industry has yet to obscure - that is where God has the room to speak and heal..."

since we are surrounded

2009-10-12T00:19:00.000-05:00

You keep him in perfect peace

whose mind is stayed on you,

because he trusts in you.

(Isaiah 26:3)

I sought the Lord, and he answered me

and delivered me from all my fears.

Those who look to him are radiant,

and their faces shall never be ashamed.

This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him

and saved him out of all his troubles.

The angel of the Lord encamps

around those who fear him, and delivers them

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!...

Come, O children, listen to me;

I will teach you the fear of the Lord...

Keep your tongue from evil

and your lips from speaking deceit.

Turn away from evil and do good;

seek peace and pursue it.

(Psalm 34:4-14)

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,

let us also lay aside every weight,

and sin which clings so closely,

and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,

looking to Jesus,

the founder and perfecter of our faith,

who for the joy that was set before him

endured the cross,

despising the shame,

and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

(Hebrews 12:1-2)

When you have friends in your life that point you to the Lord, whose lives reflect so tangibly the Love, the Joy, the Peace, and the Unconditional, then you begin to see it. And you begin to believe it. And it is only a first taste.

The Lord has been infinitely good to me. I have seen and experienced Him more closely this weekend than in a good long while. And I am beginning to comprehend, on a slight scale, that I am an undeserving sinner that warrants nothing, and I am receiving instead the fullness of Christ. Only because He loves me that much.

And if that's the truth, what freedom comes alongside.

there has to be some life lesson here

2009-10-02T19:41:00.000-05:00

I think I may have been hit by a bus. I feel completely unable to function.

Side note: I am in a random coffee shop, watching this guy try and instruct his companion on wrist braces. He doesn't look old enough to have the appropriate knowledge on the subject. I am pretty sure he is only doing it so he has an excuse to hold her hand. It is extra funny since the other guy who is there looks like a third wheel. Poor dude.

I forgot my headphones. Darn it. Forget about focusing.

Oh wait, I think the third wheel and the girl are actually dating. AWKWARD.

Back to my point, getting hit by a bus. My eyes don't stay open. My contacts aren't in their case long enough overnight to get properly cleaned, so my contacts have fingerprints on them. They stick to my eyes. I can't see, and I can't keep my eyes open. I mean, the past two days have been worth it. I got to sing a lot of harmonies and be friends with people...and I got to see a baby be born.

It wasn't the first birth I have seen, but it was the first birth that I went from admission to delivery. It. Was. Incredible.

First of all, if you are a lady and plan on having a baby, you can do it. With or without an epidural (preferably without), your body is capable of doing it.

Second of all, never tell yourself you can't do it. Labor takes a lot longer.

Third of all, meeting baby in the end of the pain is, from what I saw, totally worth it. And you will weep. Unless you have no soul or a very small capacity for being moved by beauty.

I really won't judge you if you don't cry when you see birth. Though, I will be very tempted to do so.

Tonight I am going to childbirth class for couples expecting multiples. What? I am really excited and also very skeptical because I can't stay awake. Thus I am in said random coffee shop with their bottomless cup of coffee. Get ready colon, cleansing's coming.

I did just write that. I have no tact at this point.

FREEBALL FRIDAY everyone. Love your life.

'til the soles of your feet turn black

2009-09-27T23:09:00.000-05:00

Dear Patty Griffin,

Thank you for 1000 Kisses. My life wouldn't be the same without it to motivate me throughout the days.

I first thought "Rain" was the best.

Then I heard "Long Way Home".

Then I heard "Chief".

Then I heard "Making Pies".

Then I heard "Nobody's Crying".

Oh, and I can't forget Living with Ghosts and Children Running Through. And the other albums I haven't listened to yet.

You are a musical genius. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Sarah

P.S. Anyone who reads this needs to go buy the album now. Kthxbai.

Things I know

2009-09-21T20:47:00.000-05:00

If you don't deal with problems in your heart, they fester. They may not show on the outside. You may not recognize them. But they present in your life. And the longer they fester, the harder they are to treat. But I don't think we are supposed to equate recovery in our hearts to treatment. It is all too scientific and medical. It's just the way my mind works, so bear with me.

I didn't realize that the things I saw this summer were going to leave me torn apart. I am doubting good, doubting God in some senses. But mostly, I am grieving. Yet most of what I grieve over cannot be written here. Some things are meant to be given to the world; some are meant to shared with those who need to hear them. Much of what was seen and felt and heard and experienced is left to be continually lifted up - because this is too much of a burden for a mere human.

I have this ever-present need to get away. I think that time in creation is healing. So I drove to Colorado and felt a little reprieve. Yet the need is still there; there is still healing left for me. And I can hope in that.

And I can hope in a God who has not forsaken me, nor the world, despite what things may appear on the surface.

Expose the doubt and dark in your heart, and there is peace to be found to fill the places that are left.

Hope is there.

how could you be so heartless?

2009-09-20T23:16:00.000-05:00

". . . for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind." James 1

"And have mercy on those who doubt; save others by snatching them out of the fire; to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh." Jude 1

Miss Independent

2009-09-14T23:55:00.000-05:00

A lot of times we get ourselves into the pattern of believing things that don't quite exist. The aspects of fairy tales and stories hold something that resonate deep within us: that romantic encounter we search for, the adventure that leaves us on top of a mountain having conquered the world, the thrill of surviving a danger, having pressed the boundary to see how far we can go.

Ok, those things do exist. But not in the way we expect.

I could say a lot about how the world's idea of romance taints relationships, but I don't want to right now.

I want to talk about adventure.

I have some really neat friends. They do really cool things, like go to Amsterdam to study and explore the things she is passionate about; I have a friend who is living life in Port Townsend, living on her own and making a life for herself. I have friends who have gone to the most incredible of places - and I associate it with adventure.

Adventure resonates with me. I think of the freedom it instills. It liberates. In essence it releases the ties that bind and allows us to experience things as they are.

I moved to Washington by myself. I made friends. I figured out my new life and went tubing and played frisbee and learned how to be really bad at things and make it laughable. I was so happy in my adventure I never wanted to leave. I left, the adventure ended, and normal life restarted in Liberty.

Then I decided to REALLY challenge myself, and I went to Haiti. By myself. Twice. It has a nice ring to it. It impresses people. For some time I have relished the responses from people. I mean, isn't it cool how independent and adventurous I am?

I hate that I just wrote that for the world to read. Yet that is who I am. That is what I thought.

Tonight I realized that I have seen independence as a sign of strength. I have that sort of "I don't need a man by my side. I don't need anybody or anything. I can take care of myself." mentality.

Do you know why I loved Washington?

Molly, KaraLynn, Rebecca, Tyler, John, Kylan, Erik, Faye, Heather, Grandma, Jake & Michelle - on and on.

Do you know why I loved Haiti?

Diana, Mallory, Britt, and every person I met there.

The second time I went to Haiti I decided to climb the "mountain" behind the mission. We walked a short distance, and I regretted my decision. It was awful. It was so hard. And I made myself go to the top in order to prove I was strong, to stand at the top and see the view, and to feel alive.

It failed. It failed because I was so lonely. The view was breathtaking, and I was simply too empty to appreciate it.

I have had a lot of realizations this week. This last week has held more surprise, more stomach flips, more confused heads, more tired eyes. And I continue to see that I close myself off very easily. It was a process started approximately 1 year ago, and I haven't felt the need to throw this train in reverse.

So what does that have to do with adventure? I have fallen into the trap of seeking that Into the Wild type feeling - stripping down to the root of it all. And in the process I have isolated myself. I am trying to learn when to let people in again.

I haven't given up yet.

I will run, I will run

2009-09-13T23:38:00.000-05:00

Something about this day has made me miss it. It could have been talking with one of my roommates about it; it may have been studying in the library, wondering what the point was; or it may have just been this search to figure out what matters, what is supposed to be at the heart of what I do in my life.

In Haiti there appears to be a trend. Some people say it is easy to lose hope in the midst of the need and struggle of life. As you grow up it seems that people seem to lose faith in good, feeling angry, upset at the injustice of the world. And then it turns into a quiet acceptance, a near resign to how life has become.

But for a few years at the beginning of life, there is a spark in an eye. There is spunk. There is spirit. There is laughter and energy and an endless amount of love. The kids there simply live: they are unencumbered.

I could be having the loneliest day. I could be upset with the group at the time, frustrated with how they disrespected me, annoyed by their lack of understanding, or just plain ready to be alone. But all it took was the first sighting of Benji or Sophie or Esther or Wendolyn or Lovelin - it all went out the window.

Because I believe we are drawn to the things that point to Truth. The Truth the kids lived out every day was joy and humility. They had nothing to their names and laughed in the face of it. And if it only lasted for a few days longer, before the brokenness of the world tried to beat it out of them, they lived and knew joy. And through them I knew joy. They pointed me to something greater than myself - they pointed me to what really matters.

Weekend Plans

2009-09-11T17:16:00.000-05:00

The search for significance is on.

5 Minute Blog

2009-09-09T09:40:00.000-05:00

Last weekend I drove to Colorado. I think the total trip was 58 hours - 19 of which I was driving. I think it was the best thing I have done in a long time.

Coming out of Haiti the second time was relieving. It is hard for me to admit that. I think I expected myself to love it completely. I think I lost sight of truth. I had this totally off perception that I needed to come home without doubt about the direction my life is headed.

I am doubting.

Not doubting in the sense of turning away completely, but doubting as to what God has for me. I thought it was Africa, then I thought Haiti, and now I think the whole prospect of a life plan is too much for anyone. I don't think we are supposed to follow a life plan because it boxes in what God is doing.

So for now, I live in Kansas City. I might see a baby delivered tomorrow. Someday I may go onto more school. It won't be next year. I may move away from Kansas City, and I may not. I will go when I know I should. I will stay when I know I am supposed to.

And for now, I have a lot of wonderful friends to live life with. I have a group of 7th and 8th graders I can invest in. And I serve a God who is asking for me to relax.

I am a serious person. I never really thought I was until a lot of people have pointed that out to me. In a lot of ways, it is good. In some ways, it isn't.

Out the window with plans beyond the place I am now.

I feel better today.

See ya, Be ya, CHRISTMAS

2009-09-04T00:12:00.000-05:00

It's a nephew reference. Don't worry about it.

I am announcing an internet hiatus. E-mail me if you need me. I don't know when I will be back to mass communication.

Or you could always call. I'll probably screen your call, but I promise to do my best to call back.

That sounds harsh. I will most likely be so desperate for outside contact that I'll be dying to answer you.

See you on the other side.

Dreamster McDreamy

2009-09-01T19:33:00.000-05:00

From a very young age I have been plagued with some unproductive tendencies. I mean, we all are, right? I think one of my primary ones is that I dream future plans often...and they are rather unreasonable. For example:

My first dream was to be a dolphin trainer. I would live on a farm in a red brick farm house with my family. I would have two kids: Luke and Mindy. Everyone would be amazed at how well I trained dolphins, and the dolphins would be my best friends.

Shortly after that dream came about I realized I hate swimming and knew nothing about living on farms. So that dream died.

I was convinced when they began casting Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone that I was the PERFECT Hermione. I only had to get to England for the audition, practice my NEARLY PERFECT accent, and crimp my hair.

Too bad it isn't close to perfect and Emma Watson came along.

In more recent years I have considered medical school, counseling, child soldier rehabilitation, army nursing (what the?), and starting my own orphanage. And today I became convinced I need to be a midwife.

The scary thing is that I have less than a year until my life has no plans. I need to make a decision. I have no idea what dreams are legitimate and what dreams are unreasonable. I have no idea where dating someone fits in, what happens if I want to have a family, what signing myself up to run an orphanage does to the rest of my life.

Isn't it a little sad that I haven't really had any indication from God, that I push Him aside in just feeling what seems exciting and right at the time.

What in the world is He leading me to do?

BUT IF IT IS TO BE A MIDWIFE, the following cities have good programs:
+ Seattle
+ Denver
+ Kansas City

WIN.

Ayiti:sugar and salt

2009-08-26T21:59:00.000-05:00

If I ever lived in Haiti, I would take up an offering to buy sports bras. Lots of them. I'm sorry I am writing about bras, even right away, but people, this has to be said.

You sweat a lot in Haiti. It's hot. Every day. And after about two weeks, hot is hot, you stop being bothered, you can sleep through the night no problem with a baby fan, and you stop noticing the sweat.

That is, until your sports bra starts to smell.

I can only wear one for two days here. And that is even stretching it. Only one day if I go for a long walk. The smell is indescribable, uncontainable....awestruck, we fall to our knees as...

That was probably sacrilegious.

Last week one of favorite ladies here asked me for one of my sports bras. I couldn't give it to her because I needed them so badly.

Moving on...

I have watched the sunrise the last two mornings. They are so beautiful here.

Cockroaches don't bother me nearly as much as they used to.

Never put channel locks on the two posts of the battery inverter. If you absolutely have to do that, use rubber handles.

Oil based paint comes off with bug spray.

Making bracelets with 60+ children does not work in Source Matelas.

I have a son...he asked if I would be his mother...I said yes?

I have a goddaughter...she asked if I would be her godmother...I said yes! Pretty sure I signed up to pay for her wedding.

Miss Anita told me today that she would miss me...then she ended by saying "In Haiti you have sugar and you have salt. You have to have both." Today is a day like that.

Diana could very well be a perfect person, without flaw, second only to the Trinity...because she sends me reminders like this when my heart breaks on a day like today.

As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.

As the rain and snow come down from heaven and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth.

It will not return to me empty but will accomplish what i desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

You will go out with joy and be led forth in peace. The mountains and hills will burst into song before you and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

Instead of the thorn bush will grow the juniper, and instead of the briers the myrtle will grow.

This will be for the Lord’s renown, for an everlasting sign, that will endure forever.

Ayiti:leave it up to you

2009-08-20T19:41:00.000-05:00

Our newest team has been more difficult than others. I can't seem to break the shell, they don't seem to listen to what I ask, and the result seems to be chaos.

I am reminded of this: "set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity."

I didn't do that very well today.

A failure's what I'd be without your grace...

The God of a million second chances,

Because chances are that I'll return and take the wheel

A million times or more.

Thank the Lord tomorrow is another day.

Ayiti:my greeting this morning

2009-08-19T10:54:00.000-05:00

"Bonjou - koman ou ye?"

"OH Sarah. Bonjou. Mwen byen...

I see you lost weight. That's good."

"Ah. Well, I don't know really...but I guess so?"

"Yes, I know you don't want to be fat."

In other news:

GIAWIM left this morning. I rather enjoyed their company. Now a new group comes this afternoon from Texas. They will be my last group before I leave. Surreal.

Yesterday I went to the beach. The Brazilian UN were there in full force. HILARIOUS.

And now I write papers for school. All three are due when I arrive back in one week. Yikes.

Also, I was told last night that I can rap. WIN.

Ayiti:something there

2009-08-17T21:55:00.000-05:00

The last few days have been interesting. Lots of rain, tropical storms, talk of hurricanes. I hadn't seen another white person in a few days until today, which I sort of loved a lot. I got off the mission for a while. I ate tamrin ice cream. Who KNEW it would be so gosh darn good???

I haven't been setting aside time to read my Bible very much at all this entire month. Let me tell you, I can tell. My heart is a minor wreck, and I know why.

But as steady as the lights across the water, as strong as the wind and lightening and thunder and rain and floods, as constant as the need in Haiti...so is He.

in my hopeless case, you keep saying the same things

is it on my face? it isn't sinking in.

like a homeless man, tapping on the car window,

i feel so disconnected. but so in need to hear this...

do you still see something there?

Ayiti:all too common conversations

2009-08-15T08:19:00.000-05:00

Me: "Bonjou!"

Him: "Bonjou. . . what is your name?"

Me: "Sarah - what is your's?"

Him: "[Fill-in-the-blank]. You are very intelligent."

Me: "Oh. Uh, thank you."

Him: "Will you help me learn english?"

Me: "Sure...[teaching commences for 2 minutes]"

Him: "Yes...very intelligent. I want to go to the States for university - will you sponsor me?"

Me: "I have no money to sponsor you for college, I'm sorry."

Him: "Do you believe in Jesus?"

Me: "Yes I do. Do you?"

Him: "Yes! [Pause] I love you."

Me: "What?"

Him: "You love Jesus, you are very intelligent, I love you."

Me: "Uhhh. Well, we are brothers and sisters in Christ! [Desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from where it is headed]"

Him: "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Me: [said in defeat] ". . . No . . ."

Him: "I want to be in a relationship with you. You love Jesus, you don't have a boyfriend. Will you marry me?"