tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56547796053512276812024-03-14T04:24:46.247-05:00Oh Heavenly Dayall of my life,
in every season,
You are still God,
i have a reason to sing,
i have a reason to worshipLDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-46079158781733437482013-06-18T19:40:00.002-05:002014-06-18T06:21:18.119-05:00The Gift of Numbness<div style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 150%;">I wish I could explain it. I wish I could
somehow wrap it up with words and convey the height and depth of
the joys, the frustrations, the griefs I experienced while in Africa. But it's
impossible. Because I have yet to fully feel and know the weight of what
I've seen and known. Pieces of it seem like a dream, one that I wish I could
spend the rest of my life in, and the other parts seem like my worst nightmares
become reality. The daily contrast of light and dark, joy and pain, life and death.</span><span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 150%;">I spent most of my time in Zimba feeling a strange sense
of numbness. Meg<span style="color: black;"> talks about it <a href="http://wanderingalongtheway6.wordpress.com/2013/06/15/fighting-for-feeling-five-month-update/">here</a> and in a similar way, I </span>wrestled with my lack of feeling and what
it meant. Could it be that my heart somehow had grown calloused so quickly? I
didn't cry more than five tears the entire time I was in Zimba... maybe it was
just too much to process, too heavy to bear, too much work to get done? It was
never a matter of detachment or apathy. I deeply connected with the patients,
my heart sank in their struggles and overflowed in their victories but the
degree of emotion was dampened and the outward expression remained
stagnant. </span><span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">As I left Zimba on Saturday, the wall that had
been guarding my heart for 5 weeks crumbled and</span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> I
finally began to grasp the reality of the things I’d seen and experienced.
Sitting on the plane, the tears started flowing and couldn't be stopped and I
grew thankful for the gift of numbness, like maybe it was part of God's grace
so that I could do the work that needed to be done. To love those who
hadn’t been loved well in a while, laugh with those who hadn’t laughed in a
while, provide hope to those who had probably felt the hope fade long ago and
couldn't see past the gravity of their condition. They looked to me for
strength and encouragement and without the strength and grace of a mighty God,
I would have been crushed beneath the weight of what I faced each day. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">So I think the numbness was a holy protection from my own emotional instability
so that the King of Glory could use a wreck like me. Because the glorious thing</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> is that J</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; line-height: 150%;">ehovah God does not change
with the rollercoaster of my feelings. He is always good, never swaying, from
beginning to end the same. He makes life out of death. He shines light in the
darkness. He makes beauty from ashes. He gives hope to the hopeless. He never
forsakes, never abandons, never tires, never suffers defeat. He has overcome
the world. </span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-84760218162481097012013-06-12T16:19:00.000-05:002013-06-12T16:19:43.922-05:00Homecoming<div style="text-align: center;">
No, I'm not talking about my return to the States, though it is right around the corner. </div>
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Do you remember <a href="http://lauradenning.blogspot.com/2013/05/hope-remains.html">sweet Esther</a>? Esther was my patient in the female ward two weeks ago. She was a joyful presence in the ward and I looked forward to seeing her face everyday. At 89 years old, she has doubled the life expectancy of most Zambians. Her heart was failing, her legs were swollen, her abdomen was sunken in except for the pulsatile mass that was protruding, her blood pressure was rarely stable. I worried about her condition every day she was in the hospital but finally we had her stabilized and she was able to go home. I was ecstatic to watch her walk, yes walk, out of the hospital on her own, though she was literally at a 90 angle because her spine was so badly hunched. Precious Esther. </div>
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Monday afternoon, around 4:30, as I was trying to finish up the long line of patients waiting to be seen in OPD, Meg rushed into my exam room. Esther was being wheeled into OPD. </div>
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From the second I placed my stethoscope on her chest, I knew she had deteriorated since I'd discharged her. Her lungs were congested, her heart rate was erratic, her legs had filled back up with fluid. We wheeled her over to casualty and hooked up the cardiac monitor where my fears were confirmed. Her heart was contracting irregularly and she was getting progressively weaker. I admitted her to the female ward that night and hoped her condition would somehow turn around. </div>
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I stopped by to check on her yesterday morning and she was awake and feeling better. Her chest X-ray showed progressive pleural effusions and her oxygen saturation had dropped but she was hanging in there. As Dr. Joan came home from the hospital last night, she assured me Esther's condition was unchanged. </div>
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I arrived to the hospital this morning and headed straight to OPD. I quickly got word that Esther had begun vomiting and was not doing well. I walked over to female ward and was relieved to see Tanner and Dr. Joan doing rounds standing by Esther's bedside. Esther was awake and talking so I went back to OPD to work. Around 11:30, one of the interpreters came to my exam room to tell me Esther had taken a turn for the worst and passed away. It literally took my breath away.</div>
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The heartbreak of losing another patient. It's always gut wrenching. It happens too often here, at least once or twice a week and it never becomes normal or gets any easier. Last week, three of my patients from the male ward died. One of which I was standing over when he stopped breathing. I listened to his heart as it stopped beating. There was nothing that could be done. His family looking on, watching me, hoping for a miracle. </div>
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Esther told Tanner this morning that she was feeling well after a long time of prayer and confession. She was in good spirits and at peace. Her faith was strong.</div>
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Two weeks ago, I was rejoicing that Esther was going home from the hospital and while my heart is weary and grieving, today I rejoiced that Esther was truly going home. </div>
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Hope remains. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;">May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;">. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;">Romans 15:13</span></span></div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-44319250048343545472013-06-06T12:59:00.000-05:002013-06-17T06:54:28.880-05:00These Days<div style="text-align: center;">
The days are moving so quickly and this has just not been the best week here in Zimba. But instead of going into detail of the Montezimba's revenge that attacked my stomach today along with the heaviness of the male ward that seems unending and risk becoming the most depressing blog ever, I'll just share some non-depressing facts and photos about my time here so far.</div>
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Zambians can't seem to figure out their "R"s so no one can say my name. After 5 weeks, I don't think twice when the patients yell out, "Dr. Lola, Dr. Lola" as I walk past. </div>
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This is my room. Bottom bunk is mine and unless a visitor comes through town, its just me. Complete with a zebra throw rug and decorative mosquito net. Glorious. I shower with a gecko every day. Not sure if its the same one or if they take turns but there is always a lizard somewhere in my shower and somehow it doesn't bother me at all. When in Africa...</div>
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This sweet baby at church made me so happy. It's not a trip to Africa without a Little Mermaid appearance.<br />
Right, Marisa and Emily? </div>
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Africans are born to harmonize. I am constantly amazed at how perfect the harmonies are in chapel or church. Effortlessly, not a note out of tune. For instance, choir at Sunday church:</div>
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Earlier this week, while doing rounds, the TV in the male ward was blaring some Zambian soap opera when a commercial started playing the country song "God is great, beer is good, people are crazy." I couldn't help but think of home in Nashville. Thankful for God's reminder & sense of humor. </div>
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One of my favorite people here is a 13 year old boy named Cholwe. He is quite the character and we've become good friends. He is the older brother to Caleb, 4. He is the sixth grade choir director at school, loves English and Science, and is a master at photography. Last night, he knocked on our back door and with his hands behind his back, told me he'd brought me a gift. Grinning from ear to ear, he presented me with a giant African toad. Boys.</div>
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Speaking of Cholwe, he and his little brother Caleb snagged my IPhone and left some pretty killer videos behind. I mean, seriously, it does not get better than this.</div>
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I leave for Safari tomorrow. <a href="http://wanderingalongtheway6.wordpress.com/">Meg</a>, Tanner, and I will be headed to Livingstone and then on to camp in Chobe National Park in Botswana. Like literally camping in tents, in the middle of lions and elephants and giraffes. It's going to be epic.</div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-55376305797196277592013-05-29T14:53:00.001-05:002013-05-29T15:25:35.960-05:00Half Way<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Today marks the half way point here in Zimba. Time is flying too quickly. As I looked at my calendar last night, the reality sank in. Half way. I should be longing for the familiarity of home but mostly I'm craving more time in this unfamiliar new place, with its glorious sunsets, its beautiful people, its sweet simplicity. </div><div>I can't describe it, m<span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">aybe its the quiet, maybe its the time to disconnect, but </span>something in the deepest part of my being comes awake when I am in Africa. Unlike any other place, I experience a freedom here, the ability to breathe more deeply, a clarity of mind, and a peace that only confirms what I felt so strongly in Uganda... this is what I was created for. </div><div>Even in the most frustrating moments when the X-rays are blurry and the labs are missing and the roosters are crowing every hour of the night, I haven't wanted to pack up and go home. <span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">Even in the loneliest moments, I truly haven't been homesick. Evidence of God's grace and the interceding of my people back home. Certainly not of anything I'm capable of. Thankful, so incredibly thankful. </span></div><div><br></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);">My day at the hospital ends with a walk home to the mission house. A daily display of God's splendor. Fields of dried corn stalks, sun peaking through the trees right before the sky burns shades of orange, then deep reds, then bright pinks. The hospital with the small chapel behind me finally quieting from the day's normal chaos. One day closer to Nashville is one day less to soak up Zimba. The two halves of my heart. Pray that time slows down. </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XotXcohzZW0/UaZgssfy7BI/AAAAAAAADXU/FIZ67fHIjaY/s640/blogger-image-2047281943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XotXcohzZW0/UaZgssfy7BI/AAAAAAAADXU/FIZ67fHIjaY/s640/blogger-image-2047281943.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-AzJEMfwrNEM/UaZgmcSaPeI/AAAAAAAADXE/FaKTCNQM9wo/s640/blogger-image-1230182382.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-AzJEMfwrNEM/UaZgmcSaPeI/AAAAAAAADXE/FaKTCNQM9wo/s640/blogger-image-1230182382.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-H4OdZXQ71Yc/UaZgvpIEEXI/AAAAAAAADXc/yL8x5XE9giY/s640/blogger-image-417347982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; "><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-H4OdZXQ71Yc/UaZgvpIEEXI/AAAAAAAADXc/yL8x5XE9giY/s640/blogger-image-417347982.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fI-IUBSL5Rw/UaZgpY9X1tI/AAAAAAAADXM/mydyylSYpvk/s640/blogger-image--1677460775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fI-IUBSL5Rw/UaZgpY9X1tI/AAAAAAAADXM/mydyylSYpvk/s640/blogger-image--1677460775.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-40954883224709556442013-05-26T16:03:00.000-05:002013-05-26T16:10:43.747-05:00Hope Remains<div style="text-align: center;">
This week at the hospital was too much to describe with words. I suppose most of my experiences here are. It seemed each patient had a tragic story of unrelenting sickness, abandonment, and hopelessness. </div>
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I was in charge of the Female Ward and in five days, we admitted three suicide attempts. Three women caught in the enemy's lie that all was lost, this life was not worth it. Each one had a different story but all three had the same sad, lifeless look in their eyes, eyes searching for a glimmer of hope. </div>
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Two more patients were admitted last week with severe sickness and neither were improving. We had done all we could do, used every antibiotic in the hospital (which is only 3 or 4 on a good day), ordered every lab available (which is as basic as it gets), prayed for a miracle, and were now just waiting. </div>
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The Female Ward was packed all week & by the end of the day on Friday, I was physically, emotionally, spiritually exhausted. All I wanted was rest. All I could think of was those patients. I could feel the weight of it.</div>
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"Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28 </div>
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I woke up Saturday morning two hours before my alarm and couldn't go back to sleep. I made some coffee, sat outside on our front porch, prayed, and waited for the sun come up. And like the sun creeping over the wall of the mission, I felt this hope welling up in me. I could feel the weight lifting. </div>
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I headed over to the hospital at 8am for morning rounds and walked into a half empty ward. Many of the patients had been well enough to go home. Praise the Lord. Like Esther, who had been there for a week with congestive heart failure and gastroenteritis. Such a sweet spirit. </div>
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Irene, the patient who had been the most critically ill, barely able to move or communicate the day before, was not in her bed when I walked by. As I turned around, her mother was pushing her into the ward in a wheelchair. She was alert and sitting up on her own. </div>
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Two of the women who had attempted suicide were discharged with the remaining patient doing remarkably well. I had the opportunity to spend time with all three, holding their hands, praying for them, watching the life return to their eyes. Hope. There is always hope.</div>
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But I will hope continually & will praise you yet more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge. (Ps 71:14-15) </div>
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I left the hospital feeling like I was able to take a deep breath for the first time since Monday. We all met back at the house, packed up the van, and headed to Livingstone for a day out of Zimba. </div>
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<a href="http://www.zambiatourism.com/travel/places/victoria.htm">Victoria Falls</a> is one of the seven natural world wonders and I hope some day you get to see it with your own eyes. I promise pictures and words don't do it justice. We hiked, climbed, explored, and got absolutely drenched. We hung out with Zebras, drank Coke Zero, and watched the sunset over the Zambezi River. It was a much needed break. </div>
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Hope is not lost. Hope remains. </div>
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Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. (Rom 12:12)</div>
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You may have noticed, I am not a great photographer but guess who is. <a href="http://instagram.com/p/ZvV8EtGRxe/">This guy</a>. If you want to see more photos of our adventure, check out <a href="http://tannercale.com/photojournal/">his photojournal</a>. <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JiiIUt1kRrY/UaJrNG27WpI/AAAAAAAADVo/RqZXY2yVLGQ/s1600/photo+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="397" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JiiIUt1kRrY/UaJrNG27WpI/AAAAAAAADVo/RqZXY2yVLGQ/s400/photo+(3).JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o4E1oN6OztU/UaJwyiH0cOI/AAAAAAAADV8/_vdwklOxOCI/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-05-26+at+10.29.15+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="397" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o4E1oN6OztU/UaJwyiH0cOI/AAAAAAAADV8/_vdwklOxOCI/s400/Screen+shot+2013-05-26+at+10.29.15+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-13096157554930095242013-05-20T15:26:00.000-05:002013-05-23T15:36:19.291-05:00New Day, New Breath<div style="text-align: center;">
Today has been exhilarating and exhausting. I was assigned to work with the surgical team and there definitely was not a dull moment. </div>
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It started with rounds in the female ward with Dr. Joan then I headed over to OPD to find 100+ patients waiting to be seen. Classic Monday. Tanner was making the best of it and seeing patients as fast as he could. I jumped in and saw a handful of patients before being called by the surgery guys. Dr. Greg Alty is an American surgeon working at Zimba with his son for a month doing pretty much any and every procedure you could imagine. </div>
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Surgery clinic basically entails reviewing each patient's case file, physical exam, determining if the patient needs an inpatient or outpatient procedure, and scheduling the surgery or doing the procedure there in the minor theatre (ORs are called theatres here.) Two men with BPH in retention needing Foley catheters, three hydroceles, two inguinal hernias... basically all urology surg cases, right up my alley (thanks to Alison, Dr. Locke, & Dr. Tissot). Two pediatric burn cases, which despite seeing many here, never gets easier to stomach, and a <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">dermatofibrosarcoma protuberans (yep, it's a real word) and the day was wrapping up. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">That is, until Dr. Dan called for me to assist him with a C section. </span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">The baby was breech so delivery would've been dangerous.</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"> The experience</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> was nerve wracking and surreal and glorious. I was the first person to wrap my hands around that baby girl. I cut the cord and watched her first breath. Praise Him. Less than an hour later, we were wheeling the mother into recovery and the newborn baby girl was doing great. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I can't help but think back to the stark contrast one week ago when death and mourning had filled my first day at Zimba. Today was filled with new life and rejoicing. There is </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">a time to be born and a time to die,</span><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">a time to weep and a time to laugh,</span><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> </span><span class="text Eccl-3-4" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); position: relative;">a time to mourn and a time to dance. (Eccl 3) In death and life, we see His hand. The hand of the Holy God we serve. Our hope is not in this life for this world is not our home. May our patients rest in the truth. </span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Praise the King of Glory.</span></div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-62249697134325648632013-05-18T01:48:00.000-05:002013-05-18T01:48:15.500-05:00OPD<div style="text-align: center;">
It is 8:00 Saturday morning in Zimba. Monday through Friday, we have chapel services before starting work but Saturdays we get to rest a bit more. The last two days, I have worked in the outpatient department (OPD) on my own, seeing patients with the help of my sweet translator, Purity. I'm learning some Tonga here and there but obviously it is slow going. I think I only saw four or five patients in the morning on Thursday while there was a long line waiting. As I apologized to several patients for having to wait, they all said the same thing with smiles, that they did not mind waiting, they were just grateful for care. So different from the States. </div>
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The learning curve here is huge. The medications have unrecognizable names, the dosing is different, labs have British values, my brain is overwhelmed. Most nights, I come from clinic to study meds and a slew of infectious disease facts. And all of it is awesome. Because each day I return to clinic a little bit faster and a little bit better at helping those waiting for care. Yesterday was much smoother and I suspect I will eventually get the hang of it. </div>
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Saturdays we work half days either in OPD or rounding on patients so that's where I'm headed now. Thank you for continued prayer support and encouraging words! </div>
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This is Dr. Joan. She and her husband are the head physicians at ZMH. I am working with her the most and learning a ridiculous amount from her teaching. </div>
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Not exactly how we would fix a broken femur in the States. </div>
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A pin through the tibia tied to a jug of water to provide traction. </div>
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<br />LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-67157256742096993732013-05-15T14:19:00.001-05:002013-05-15T14:19:12.087-05:00Zimba Mission Hospital Day 1We awoke this morning, still fighting the jetlag, and excited about the day ahead. Every morning, we start with a chapel service of worship in Tonga (the local language) and a short message. I hope that heaven sounds like that. There is truly nothing like acapella African worship. <div><br></div><div>After chapel, I began rounds with Dr. Dan in the maternity ward and let me start by saying, I knew these 6 weeks were not going to be easy. I just could not have imagined the reality of how hard it would be. It was a hard day. One hopeful pregnant woman tells me her story through a translator. Pregnant for the 6th time and she has no children. 2 late term stillbirths, 1 miscarriage, 2 newborns dead from malaria and pneumonia. Many women had similar stories. While not completely uncommon in her culture, her pain and tears were as real as any American woman hoping to be a mom. Heartbreaking. </div><div><br></div><div>Next, we made our way across to the pediatrics ward. The first bed we walked up to there was a small child who looked to be about 8 or 9, curled up beneath a blanket hooked up to IV and oxygen. She was brought in last night after being sick many weeks and was thought to have pneumonia. The child's family sat anxiously by her bedside. As Dr. Dan pulled back the blanket to examine her, it was clear she had died several hours before. My first pediatric case here in Zambia. Heartbroken.</div><div><br></div><div>The remainder of the day I worked in the outpatient and the HIV clinic as a steady stream of sick patients filed in. It was not an easy day. </div><div><br></div><div>But there were also moments of joy today. Children with giant smiles making faces at me and giggling as I treated patients in clinic. Watching the expansive Zambian sky turn 15 shades of red and orange as the sun went down. There will be more moments of joy here, there will be moments of dancing and singing and healing. His mercies are new every morning. </div><div><br></div><div>Today was a reminder that God is God, I am not. Today was a reminder that this life is a gift that will fade like the dust. Today was a reminder that this world is not our home. God is still good all the time, on the best days and on the most heartbreaking days. <span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">Come, Lord Jesus, come.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">Tomorrow I will be rounding on patients and working in outpatient clinic on my own. Prayers appreciated. </span></div>LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-82053975801575168382013-05-14T00:29:00.001-05:002013-05-14T00:44:22.365-05:00Today's the day<div>Today we will be traveling to Zimba, entering the rural African life and beautiful people that I fell in love with 3 years ago. Outside of the big cities, in the tiny villages, in the mud made churches, with those voices singing praise and those precious babies' big brown eyes staring back at me. That is where my heart awakens. That is where my soul is overwhelmed with joy. These are the people who impacted me so much before and I know they will do the same again. "I need Africa more than Africa needs me." You can't understand it until you've been, then it all makes sense. </div><div><br></div><div>Many people have asked how they can pray for us. It is so greatly appreciated!</div><div>Pray that we are given enlightened eyes to see each of our patients as our Abba does. Ps 68:5-6 "A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing." </div><div>Pray for miracles, healings, revivals, and giftings that the Spirit would rush like a mighty wind and the King of Glory would be renowned. </div><div>Pray for words of compassion, hands of gentleness and love, and boldness to speak the truth of the gospel. <span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">Ps 147:3 - "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." </span></div><div>Pray for daily revelation of the power we have in Christ, that we are more than conquerors when we feel defeated, and humble spirits that we are capable of nothing in our own strength. </div><div>Pray for physical and mental endurance, focused minds, and good health that we may serve well. The jet lag has definitely set in. Thank you, thank you, thank you! </div><div>You can also follow Tanner's photojournal here: http://tannercale.com/photojournal </div>LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-38478288686924634132013-05-13T12:18:00.001-05:002013-05-13T23:21:05.388-05:00Nashville -> Johannesburg<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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At 5:40pm yesterday, after a last American meal of chipotle (thank you Dulles), Tanner and I settled in for the long 17 hour flight to South Africa. I have this issue where I revert to a newborn baby on international flights, only waking to eat and use the bathroom and then turning back over to sleep. I did, however, manage to watch Silver Linings Playbook, Date Night, & about 17 minutes of Les Mis. </div>
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We stopped for an hour to refuel in Dakar, Senegal and then flew 8 more hours to arrive here in Johannesburg, South Africa. We took a bus to our hotel and got to see a quick glimpse of this bustling city. It reminds me of the old school section of the Vegas strip. Tons of neon lighting. </div>
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Right now, I'm sitting in my hotel room thinking that its actually almost 1pm and not quarter til 8pm as it is here, thankful for wifi, and excited for the adventure to come. Tomorrow we fly to Livingstone, Zambia around 11am before driving to our final destination, Zimba.</div>
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Thank you for your continued prayer and words of support! My sweet friends sent me off with a card to encourage me every single day and those words have already given life to my exhausted heart. Thank you! Miss you! Much love! </div>
LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-40576956385682963942013-05-12T16:36:00.001-05:002013-05-12T16:36:48.279-05:00And away we goI'm not sure what the Internet situation will be once we get to Zambia but hopefully I'll be able to give updates as much as possible. Tanner and I are minutes away from take-off in DC and in 17 hours we will land in Johannesburg, South Africa. From there we fly to Livingstone, Zambia before traveling to Zimba.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="http://Instagram.com/p/ZOXSeBmR-t/"></a><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-kBi8Dl9Jlww/UZALbvWe3hI/AAAAAAAADT0/Vf10R0qHMhA/s640/blogger-image--852194369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-kBi8Dl9Jlww/UZALbvWe3hI/AAAAAAAADT0/Vf10R0qHMhA/s640/blogger-image--852194369.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div><div>This journey began last summer when I was told I'd been given one of the spots for Africa and I have been completely humbled and overwhelmed by the outpouring of prayer, finances, support, & encouragement by my friends and family. Thank you! Thank you for helping this dream become a reality and for pushing me to step outside of my box. </div><div><br></div><div>God is good all the time! All the time God is good! Praise His name! Let's do this!!</div>LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-54727860170299036452013-05-09T08:00:00.000-05:002013-05-09T08:06:54.047-05:00Four Days, Four Years<div style="text-align: center;">
Four days until we take off. 1:22pm on Sunday to be exact. </div>
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Hopefully by this time next week I will be settled in Zimba. </div>
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In the meantime, I am finishing my to do lists and attempting to get packed up. </div>
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Fun fact: Did you know that you can be arrested for drug trafficking if you try to bring Benadryl (diphenhydramine) into Zambia?! It's considered a controlled substance there and since I'm not quite ready to tour the inside of a Zambian prison, I'll be leaving the Tylenol PM at home. Sheeeesh. I digress. </div>
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I'm not sure I've ever felt more bipolar than I have this week. One minute I'm overwhelmed with excitement and ready to jump on the plane and the next I'm wondering what I've gotten myself into and why I would choose to leave my safe, sweet, comfortable life in Nashville. The past two weeks have been filled with coffee dates and parties and snuggles with my best friends' munchkins and naps in the sunshine in Sevier park - all of the people and places that make Nashville home. They've also been filled with prayers that have covered me and a church that stands beside me and hugs that I struggled to let go of and long, tearful goodbyes. I'm tasting the sweetness of my community & feeling how unbelievably blessed I am & part of me wants to stay right here to soak it up. </div>
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But all week the Lord has been whispering to my fearful heart, "I was faithful once, I'll be faithful again." You see, this weekend marks my four year anniversary of moving to Nashville. I too often forget how terrified I was to take that leap of faith and move to such a scary and unfamiliar place. I almost let fear paralyze me then. I almost talked myself out of Nashville. I thought I had the best in SC. But God kept pushing. He knew what was ahead. He knew the sweetness of what was to come. He had gone before me and was planting seeds of community before I ever stepped foot in this city. He asked me to follow and He blew my expectations out of the water. </div>
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And He'll be faithful to do it again because that is who He is. It is His character. The problem is most of us love to hold tight to the comfortable, the safe, the expectations because our human minds cannot imagine anything better. We are blinded by the illusion of security. We attempt to minimize risk at every corner. We let our fear of the unknown box us in. But Scripture clearly says God is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine (Eph 3:20). He is faithful. </div>
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So here I am fighting fears and trembling hands, certain He has asked me to again take the leap of faith and follow Him to Zambia, believing He has gone before me and will once again do far more than I can imagine. Four years later, with the story still being written, Nashville reminds me every day that my God is trustworthy. </div>
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Take a leap, choose the risky path, follow where He is leading. He is faithful. </div>
LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-31308792055761129562013-04-18T23:02:00.000-05:002013-04-18T23:02:36.577-05:00Zambia<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 26px;">A year ago, when I heard about the opportunity to work in Africa, I had to look up Zambia on a map.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 26px;"> Hopefully your geography skills are better than mine, but if not, here are some things to know about my home for the next month and a half...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 26px;">Zambia is a land locked co</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">untry in southern Africa bordered by<span style="line-height: 26px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">Democratic Republic of the Congo</span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">, </span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">Tanzania</span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">, </span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">Malawi</span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">, </span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">Mozambique</span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">, </span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">Zimbabwe</span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">, </span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">Botswana, </span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">Namibia</span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">, & </span><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">Angola. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19.190340042114258px;">It</span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 26px;"> is the size of Texas with a total of 14 million people. </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-inRDJUSUChE/UW9qmfT-lkI/AAAAAAAADSI/KoKZ27JqScw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-17+at+10.36.57+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 26px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-inRDJUSUChE/UW9qmfT-lkI/AAAAAAAADSI/KoKZ27JqScw/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-17+at+10.36.57+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px;">Zambia is 7 hours ahead of Nashville so I'll basically be living in the future.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_Q87lmVl72s/UW9zJKZar3I/AAAAAAAADSg/9wtsjv-vKq8/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-17+at+11.14.05+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_Q87lmVl72s/UW9zJKZar3I/AAAAAAAADSg/9wtsjv-vKq8/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-17+at+11.14.05+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: start;">The seasons are opposite of the U.S. because Zambia is south of the Equator so I'll be there in the middle of winter with expected highs of 80 degrees. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l6PK40fNA4I/UW91OqVWbVI/AAAAAAAADS4/eoMhhBGS4gs/s1600/PA100858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l6PK40fNA4I/UW91OqVWbVI/AAAAAAAADS4/eoMhhBGS4gs/s400/PA100858.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">English is the official language though most of the locals only spe</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px;">ak Chitonga, which unfortunately was not a foreign language choice in high school. </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T5CnuusCqGQ/UW90JumoOYI/AAAAAAAADSw/TgPQE7dygDs/s1600/DSC_0450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T5CnuusCqGQ/UW90JumoOYI/AAAAAAAADSw/TgPQE7dygDs/s400/DSC_0450.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">Average life expectancy in Zambia is 40 years. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">14% of adults are HIV positive. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">In </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">Zambia, there is 1 doctor for 20,000 people. Compare to the U.S., which has 1 doctor for 400 people. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">I will definitely stay busy</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;"> with that many patients to see.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit;">60% of Zambians live on less than $1 per day. Can you imagine? </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-czTvJcK1-cw/UW9rDxiYYlI/AAAAAAAADSY/klogE8JjvIk/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-17+at+10.39.42+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-style: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-czTvJcK1-cw/UW9rDxiYYlI/AAAAAAAADSY/klogE8JjvIk/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-17+at+10.39.42+PM.png" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">Zambia is home to Victoria Falls, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">1 of 7 natural wonders of the world </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">(</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px; text-align: left;">2 times higher than Niagara Falls and 3 times wider).</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uWx1NTm3QFo/UW96th2ZY_I/AAAAAAAADTA/ibCUsobS2ts/s1600/db_zambian-food-nshima-nsima-ugali-sadza06imixed-web1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uWx1NTm3QFo/UW96th2ZY_I/AAAAAAAADTA/ibCUsobS2ts/s400/db_zambian-food-nshima-nsima-ugali-sadza06imixed-web1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px;">Nshima, the staple food, is prepared from mealie-meal, which is ground corn kernels. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-style: inherit; line-height: 26px;">Peanut butter and granola bars are packed, do not worry. </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KLCa0-ew59w/UW9qn74jp-I/AAAAAAAADSQ/-xCiPujJUZw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-17+at+10.37.20+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 25.98958396911621px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KLCa0-ew59w/UW9qn74jp-I/AAAAAAAADSQ/-xCiPujJUZw/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-04-17+at+10.37.20+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Home Sweet Home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://secure.wesleyan.org/gp/makefaithpromise//missionaries">Want to become a prayer partner? Click here. </a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://secure.wesleyan.org/ops/items/?_opsid=GP&_opsauth=BDDD013E4690FE4A87D800970F8397BA&_fundid=WM08-1062&_name=Laura+Denning+Ministry+Support">Want to financially support me? Click here. </a></span></div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-53130928488168992722013-04-10T09:00:00.000-05:002013-04-10T09:00:00.415-05:00One Month<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One month. 30 days. That is all the time I have left before boarding the plane for Africa. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm not sure where the time went but it went quickly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am completely overwhelmed with excitement & anticipation. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What will it look like? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Surrendering my expectations, my need for control, my love for predictability. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am powerless but I rest in truth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I love you, Lord, my strength.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer;</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So let the battles come. We'll meet them with a song.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our God will go before us. We will overcome.</span><br />
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I'm about $800 short of my fundraising goal so if you have an extra $10 or so lying around and want to help out, <a href="https://secure.wesleyan.org/ops/items/?_opsid=GP&_opsauth=BDDD013E4690FE4A87D800970F8397BA&_fundid=WM08-1062&_name=Laura+Denning+Ministry+Support">click here</a>. I am so grateful for the support!</span><br />
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-12777485601148776182013-03-10T18:20:00.000-05:002013-03-14T08:27:32.268-05:00Light at the End of the Tunnel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cxJhlbnu_l4/UI84kBdc1rI/AAAAAAAAC-g/DN0PkYsxPp0/s1600/Sweet+Leah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br />
</a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cxJhlbnu_l4/UI84kBdc1rI/AAAAAAAAC-g/DN0PkYsxPp0/s1600/Sweet+Leah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="234" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cxJhlbnu_l4/UI84kBdc1rI/AAAAAAAAC-g/DN0PkYsxPp0/s320/Sweet+Leah.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 2010, I boarded the long flight to Africa with naive expectations & an unending supply of granola bars. There in Gulu, the Lord began to stir up and unravel new parts of my heart and I fell completely head over heels in love with the people of Uganda. I can so vividly remember the children's laughter, the prisoners' singing, <a href="http://lauradenning.blogspot.com/2012/06/leah.html">sweet baby Leah</a>. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every community we visited was in desperate need for medical care yet I lacked the skills to help. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I returned home to the States with a deep sense of </span><a href="http://lauradenning.blogspot.com/2010/07/now-that-i-have-seen-i-am-responsible.html" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">responsibility</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to serve medically and began the application process for Physician Assistant school in Nashville. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The last 3 years have been a blur but I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IpLogW4Djhw/UTeMZZIjoUI/AAAAAAAADRk/0rzZzRORirw/s1600/zmh-sign-300x225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IpLogW4Djhw/UTeMZZIjoUI/AAAAAAAADRk/0rzZzRORirw/s400/zmh-sign-300x225.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://zimbamission.org/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium; text-align: left;">http://zimbamission.org</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As part of this crazy journey, I’ll be heading back to Africa in 2 months, May 10 - June 19, 2013, to work at the Zimba Mission Hospital in southern Zambia. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">T</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">here are only 649 physicians in Zambia (1 for every 20,000 people). The need for medical care is staggering.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The 100 bed hospital in Zimba has 6 inpatient wards (adult male & female, pediatrics, maternity, male & female TB), a surgery department, and a large outpatient department. The maternity ward averages 50 deliveries per month, the outpatient department sees an average of 150 patients per day, & I am beyond excited!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And full of fears. Fear of the unknown, fear of my inabilities, and mostly fear for my health. Last year's </span><a href="http://lauradenning.blogspot.com/2012/06/many-are-plans-in-mans-heart-but-it-is.html" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">lupus diagnosis</a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> definitely threw a curve ball in my plans & while I love to pretend I'm invincible, the humbling reality is I am much more vulnerable than most. Treatment includes a daily cocktail of immunosuppressant medications that work to slow my immune system from attacking my own cells. But these meds also keep my immune system from fighting off infection and sickness, which is obviously not ideal for working in a third world country. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: right;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: right;">Needless to say, I greatly covet your prayers. I know there is immeasurable power in prayer and would love to know that my friends and family are interceding for me while I am serving. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Please pray specifically for health and physical strength, a covering of peace and protection, & an abundance of love to pour out on the people we care for. I am certain the Lord has called me to go and trust He is a faithful, protective Father. He is good all the time.</span><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://secure.wesleyan.org/gp/makefaithpromise//missionaries">Click here to join my prayer support team by making a faith promise</a>. </span> <br />
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</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have already been so humbled by the encouragement and generosity of my friends and family and look forward to sharing the experience with all of you. I cannot wait to be back in Africa and will be blogging updates as much as possible. I sincerely value your prayers and your support. What a privilege to serve such a mighty God! <span style="font-size: 11pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Christ has no body on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ's compassion for the world is to look out; yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good; and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now." - Saint Teresa of Avila</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span></b></span> <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://secure.wesleyan.org/ops/items/?_opsid=GP&_opsauth=BDDD013E4690FE4A87D800970F8397BA&_fundid=WM08-1062&_name=Laura+Denning+Ministry+Support">You can also donate financial support here</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F6wSWDG9CwQ/UJWDOVBkokI/AAAAAAAADLo/K8Y7u8OWrEc/s1600/Me+and+babes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F6wSWDG9CwQ/UJWDOVBkokI/AAAAAAAADLo/K8Y7u8OWrEc/s640/Me+and+babes.jpg" width="505" /></a></div></div></div>LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-64777540267522014292012-10-29T21:04:00.002-05:002012-11-02T17:14:14.674-05:00Doc<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My heart has been so heavy today as I learned that the director of my PA program was diagnosed with a brain tumor over the weekend. He is one of the toughest teachers I've ever had and yet his heart for students is evident. He is hard on us because He is more concerned with our character than our comfort. He wanted to push us, challenge us, make us think on our feet. And though there were times when he made me want to pull my hair out, he has become like a respected, beloved father to me and my classmates. We adore him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sat at work today praying & journaling and was reminded what a mighty God we serve. My prayer...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What is 4cm to You? What is a glioblastoma in Your eyes? Nothing. Not a challenge, not a struggle to overcome. An easy victory in Your hands... the hands that conjured up every cell of our being, that formed every hair on our heads, that knit together every inch of us. With a word You create, with a thought You give life. The God who named the stars, who formed the seas, who made beauty from the dust, this is nothing for You. </span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A prognosis means nothing to You. </span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You laugh at what man says is impossible, for with You ALL things are possible. </span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You made the blind man see. You made the woman stop bleeding. You brought the dead to life. You parted the sea. You rescued from the lions den. You brought forth water from the rock. You fed thousands from seven loaves of bread. You brought Jericho's walls down. You opened the ears of the deaf. You walked on water. You gave my heart of stone new life. You defeated the grave.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">King of glory, You are the same! You have not changed! The same healer that You were then, You are today! You still rescue, You still give life, Your power is unmatched, Your love is relentless! Miracles are not a challenge for You! There is no circumstance bigger than You! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still full of mercy, still abundant in grace, still singing over us, still delighting in Your children. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You are always good, always just, always sovereign!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Awesome in power, who is like You? I know not one! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ps 91:11 "He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways." </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May Your peace overflow, Your presence be known, Your hand be evident, Your glory be revealed, Your name be exalted, Your will be done.</span></div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Helvetica;"></span>LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-33818822540280640462012-07-31T16:46:00.000-05:002012-09-07T23:12:35.739-05:00Not For Me<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>439</o:Words> <o:Characters>2504</o:Characters> <o:Company>University of Georgia</o:Company> <o:Lines>20</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>5</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>3075</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The perspective change. One of those moments where God takes the way you’re looking at a situation and tilts it on its side so nothing appears the same. For me, they can be sweet lightbulb moments or, most of the time, they are painful wrecking balls, revealing a selfishness or unwillingness in my heart. And that’s what this was. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Since <a href="http://lauradenning.blogspot.com/2012/06/many-are-plans-in-mans-heart-but-it-is.html">May</a>, I have often </span>wondered why God has called me to Africa while, at the same time it seems, He is physically wrecking me… days when I’m exhausted, in pain, when the joints in my hands will just not cooperate and I am beyond frustrated. I know He is increasing my dependence on Him and breaking my need for control, I know He is good, I just fight to see the purpose in it. The equations don’t seem to work out for good. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Africa + a weakened immune system = not good<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">surgery needs + unable hands = what’s the point?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's the kicker...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What if it’s not about me at all? What if it’s about the people around me? </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What if it's about the people in Africa? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apparently I talk about Uganda a lot. And while </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was oblivious to it, God</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> was using my story to help others</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> recognize His call for their lives... His call to Africa.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What if the Lord’s purpose was to use my journey for those people to know their calling?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What if the single reason God asked me to quit my job & go to PA school was to get them to Africa? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Would all of the pain of the last year be worth it if God said "This is not for you, it’s for them"? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What if you don't even get to go back to Africa but God used you so that those people would go? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Could you say "nevertheless, Thy will be done"? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Am I willing to be used, no matter what the cost, so that someone else may know Jesus or hear their calling? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Honestly, it takes way too long to answer all of these questions. My selfish heart wants the comfortable, easy, pain free life. And </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I struggle to think outside of my own circumstances. I get so focused on what God is trying to teach ME in situations instead of looking for the bigger picture, that maybe this isn't about ME at all. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Scripture is full of stories showing how one character's journey can affect people, sometimes even generations to come. And those journeys are sometimes painful and those characters sometimes don't have it easy, but in the end, God achieves His purposes and it is good because He is good. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How faithful is the God we serve? A Father that will stop at nothing to pursue His children. A relentless love that is bigger than our finite minds can grasp. "</span><span style="background-color: #f9fdff; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">Your ways, O God, are holy. What god is so great as our God?</span><span style="background-color: #f9fdff; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="background-color: #f9fdff; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">No one is like you, O Lord; You are great, and Your name is mighty in power." </span><span style="background-color: #f9fdff; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">Ps 77:13, Jer 10:6</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-52397944619560539652012-06-20T22:53:00.001-05:002013-03-09T21:58:06.752-06:00Africa<div style="text-align: center;">
Today I found out that I officially have a spot in Zimba, Zambia next summer. I applied for the <span style="background-color: white;">medical </span><span style="background-color: white;">mission rotation a while back & today it became a reality.</span><span style="background-color: white;"> I've dreamed for the last two years of going back & at times its been the sole source of motivation to get me through school. To keep <a href="http://lauradenning.blogspot.com/2010/07/now-that-i-have-seen-i-am-responsible.html">the promises</a> I made. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">I can so easily close my eyes and be taken back to Uganda, the sights, the sounds, the emotion. Knowing I'm going back, my heart wants to explode with excitement and anticipation. And while t</span><span style="background-color: white;">here is a whisper of fear that</span><span style="background-color: white;"> wants me to stay stateside in a clinic treating ear </span><span style="background-color: white;">infections &</span><span style="background-color: white;"> handing out Z-paks, </span><span style="background-color: white;">engraved on my heart, planted in the depth of my soul </span><span style="background-color: white;">are these eyes...</span></div>
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These sweet babies that pierce through me and move me to action. I've yet to see<span style="background-color: white;"> anything </span><span style="background-color: white;">like them. Two years later, I can still hear their little voices singing and their infectious</span><span style="background-color: white;"> laughter </span><span style="background-color: white;">filling those tiny churches. But most vividly, I can't forget those eyes.</span></div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PeHMUouAfpY/UI9Eyt7ptSI/AAAAAAAADAA/DGIJ5xz1ORA/s1600/Home+of+Love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PeHMUouAfpY/UI9Eyt7ptSI/AAAAAAAADAA/DGIJ5xz1ORA/s1600/Home+of+Love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x8KGPBYbhfA/UI9CCDf6pqI/AAAAAAAAC_Q/Qc-b_bA7Oe8/s1600/Girl+at+Village+of+Hope+School.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x8KGPBYbhfA/UI9CCDf6pqI/AAAAAAAAC_Q/Qc-b_bA7Oe8/s400/Girl+at+Village+of+Hope+School.jpg" width="300" /><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6DXzFSD8Ubs/UI9Bs7rM6gI/AAAAAAAAC_A/uN8FjkcHt40/s400/4857480659_0dbce42854_b.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">The fears I have for Zambia stem from the unknown, as most fears do. A lack </span><span style="background-color: white;">of control, a surrender of expectations. There is no way to prepare for an experience like </span><span style="background-color: white;">this. No classes to take, no seminars to attend. Completely unknown &</span><span style="background-color: white;"> out of my hands. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">At the same time, the unknown is exhilarating. Freedom of expectations, freedom that I'm not </span><span style="background-color: white;">the author. The opportunity to see things that I will never see in the States. The opportunity </span><span style="background-color: white;">for </span><span style="background-color: white;">out of the box experiences. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">But </span><span style="background-color: white;">most importantly, the opportunity </span><span style="background-color: white;">for my soul to know exactly what it was created for. </span></div>
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2 Tim 1:4 - "As I remember your tears, I long to see you, that I may be filled with joy."</div>
LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-13459393291428623172012-06-14T23:50:00.003-05:002015-04-04T12:17:47.899-05:00Tetelestai<br />
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Tetelestai... the Greek word that will be permanently engraved on my right wrist this week. Whoever said tattoos are addictive was not lying. But its more than just a word. Its more than just some Greek symbols. "Tetelestai" translates to "It is finished."</div>
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The word is used twice in the New Testament. First in John 19:28... "when Jesus knew that all things were now <b><i>completed</i></b>, in order that the scripture might be fulfilled, he said, 'I thirst.'" In verse 30, Christ utters the word himself: "Then when he received the sour wine Jesus said, '<i><b>It is finished</b></i>,' and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." The scripture was fulfilled. Jesus lived with purpose and the Father's plans were accomplished. Take heart, He has overcome the world!<br />
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<span style="text-align: left;">Anyone who knows me will attest that I am a "Martha" with every ounce of my being. I can't sit still. I am rarely quiet. My nature is anxious and I want to control the outcome of every circumstance... hence the ink on my left wrist, "be still my soul." It's a continual reminder to rest in His faithfulness. He is God, I am not. </span><br />
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Tetelestai was also written on business documents or receipts in New Testament times to indicate that a bill had been paid in full. Romans 5:8... "but God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Overwhelming grace. I have a monumental debt and nothing to offer as payment and yet the debt has been paid in full... tetelestai. Freedom, no longer a slave to the law. Sin has lost its power, death has lost its sting. </div>
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<i>Be still my soul, the Lord is on thy side; </i></div>
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<i>Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;</i></div>
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<i><b>Leave to thy God to order and provide;</b></i></div>
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<i><b>In every change, He faithful will remain</b>.</i><i style="text-align: right;"> </i></div>
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<i style="text-align: right;">Be</i><i style="text-align: right;"> still my soul; thy best, thy Heavenly friend. </i></div>
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<i style="text-align: right;">Through thorny ways, leads to a joyful end. </i></div>
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Most often, the reason I struggle to be still is because I believe the lie that I need to work for my righteousness but tetelestai refutes that concept. The work has been done. Ephesians 2 says it best: "For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast." The ultimate gift of God, rescue from despair. </div>
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<b>The battle is won. It is finished. Tetelestai.</b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">Til on that cross as Jesus died</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">The wrath of God was satisfied</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: -webkit-left;">For every sin on Him was laid</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here in the death of Christ I live</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And as He stands in victory</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sin's curse has lost its grip on me</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For I am His and He is mine</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: -webkit-left;">Bought with the precious blood of Christ</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: -webkit-left;"> </span></span></div>
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</span></span></span>LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-69122342859528237962012-05-25T22:15:00.000-05:002013-03-12T07:09:37.720-05:00Just a Word<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Many are the plans in a man's heart, </b></span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails. </b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the back of my head I knew. This medical brain of mine knew that two plus two would have to equal four. The symptoms were all adding up and pointing in that direction. I tried to ignore it, pretend it would go away, but people around me started to notice my body was failing. Hope was wishing against it, thinking there would be another way out. Then the confirmation, tests came back positive, extremely positive. The diagnosis that felt like a thousand pounds being dropped on my heart. I made jokes because it was less exhausting but the disappointment ran deep. The word... I knew what it meant.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What does this mean for my future? Babies? Africa? Why would desires so deeply rooted in my soul be denied? It seemed like another dream was slipping away. It felt like punishment. It felt like I'd been abandoned. The enemy crept in and whispered loudly as I tried to make sense of it all. "A good God would never let this happen." "A faithful God would not forsake you like this." The lies surfaced quickly. Lies based on emotions, on circumstances, on pride, on the skewed principles of this world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thankfully, I do not serve a God who sways with emotions. My God is constant despite circumstances. The same yesterday as He is today and forever. That is truth. The compass that never wavers when the wind starts blowing. The same Savior who conquered death is the author of my story. He's big enough to handle my disappointments. My heart repeats over and over each day "your God is a good God." How is this good? Honestly, I haven't the slightest idea. But I believe with all my heart that my God, in His perfect holiness, holds me securely and knows best. It may never equal my comfort, my success, or my picture perfect dreams but it most certainly, somehow, will equal the incomparable joy of knowing my Father's heart more deeply. An opportunity to press into a God of unbelievable compassion, who rescued me from my filth. His relentless love is more than enough. What else could this heart desire? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His ways are perfect, I know that full well. They will succeed. Nothing can thwart them. And they lead to His glory and fame. This life is just a breath. Lupus is just a word. The truth remains the same. I want to love well and live abundantly and never stop singing praises of the God I serve. No matter the season or the circumstances or the emotions that masquerade as truth, your God is a good God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The Lord your God is with you, </b></span><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He is mighty to save. </b><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He will take great delight in you, </b><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He will quiet you with His love, </b><br />
<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He will rejoice over you with singing.</b></div>
LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-72404276589931121562010-08-06T22:58:00.000-05:002012-10-29T21:23:56.673-05:00Leah<br />
Sweet baby girl. I actually don't know how in the world to spell her name but it sounded similar to Leah so that is what I've called her. The tiny girl that changed the lenses through which I see my world.<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">This was the first time I saw you. Dressed in dirty rags, struggling to keep up. An older girl leading you by the hand near Jefferson's church. </span><br />
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The sickness was obvious. While the other girls sang songs and played "London Bridge" you stood alone. Your eyes were struggling to stay open. You were so weak. </div>
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Sweet little Leah was a three year old orphan from a nearby village. Her parents both dead of AIDS, her brother recently died of the same, & now she was fighting to live. </div>
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A woman told me you lived with a grandmother who didn't have transportation or money to get the treatment you desperately needed. I remember picking you up, you were almost lifeless. You looked like one of those babies from the 'Save the Children' ads on TV. I would normally change the channel but now in the flesh, in my arms, here you were. You were covered in sores, surrounded by flies. I held you until you fell asleep with your precious head on my chest. The tears began falling and I couldn't turn them off. Overwhelming grief. Unanswered questions.</div>
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How could this be? How is this justice? Lord, how are you still good? The tears turned to anger. This is not fair. She does not deserve this. Why should this be her fate? Why?</div>
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I couldn't make sense of it. How was I born into prosperity and she born into this? My head knowledge failed me. There was not an answer. That night, in meeting with my team, I lost it. Everything I believed in was shaken. This God who I believed to be good would not let this happen. This God who I believed to be just would not turn a blind eye. How could I serve a God who wouldn't fix this? I was lost, I was broken. The pain and the questions were too much. I didn't sleep.<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">I sat down the next day and talked with another member of our team. He said, "Feel the pain. Let it sink deeply in and feel it so that you never forget. Ask the Lord for revelation. Sit still, wait, & listen." I spent hours journaling the depth of anger, the injustice, the lack of understanding, begging for a miracle, heal this baby girl.</span></div>
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I listened and He spoke. "Child, this is not for you to understand. I am God. You are not."</div>
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Eccl 5:2 "Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven and you are on earth. Therefore let your words be few."</div>
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Humbled. What arrogance to think I know what's best. What pride to think my ways would be better. I do not understand. Nor will I ever. That is exactly what faith is all about. Faith is being sure of what we hope for, certain of what we do not see. I do not see good in this. But I am certain that God is who He claims to be. He is a good, just, loving, compassionate, redemptive Father whose heart breaks for His children. He uses hopeless situations and makes beauty from the mess. He is God. I am not.<br />
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"Isn't that like a finite mind s<span style="background-color: white;">etting out with such righteous indignation"</span></div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-41333413217565603432010-08-01T21:41:00.000-05:002012-11-03T15:12:57.174-05:00Heeepos & What? Crocodiles<div style="text-align: center;">
Not many words. The pictures are enough. Safari time.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-csUNndAZwOg/UI83pz2VolI/AAAAAAAAC-I/lOd4AZwR4gI/s1600/Me+and+KW+on+Safari+Van.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="483" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-csUNndAZwOg/UI83pz2VolI/AAAAAAAAC-I/lOd4AZwR4gI/s640/Me+and+KW+on+Safari+Van.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Me and KW hanging on top of the van<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-raXx3SJxv98/UJVa9LSFxzI/AAAAAAAADJg/J24ICGyQRro/s1600/Animals+in+the+Nile+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><img border="0" height="301" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3finf9M3tM8/UJVa9mVC9RI/AAAAAAAADJo/VLC_ecssMWs/s400/Antelopes+copy.jpg" width="400" /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i-2WXnnmVOY/UJVa_mEvwaI/AAAAAAAADJ4/J7f3weHfVms/s1600/Giraffe+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i-2WXnnmVOY/UJVa_mEvwaI/AAAAAAAADJ4/J7f3weHfVms/s320/Giraffe+copy.jpg" width="202" /></a></div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-11973031744990418132010-07-26T10:36:00.000-05:002013-01-05T20:00:25.704-06:00You'll Come<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can't unsee what I've seen. I can't shake the
images from my mind. Those babies, that hospital. One doctor here for every
2,000 people. So many orphans. So many widows. My heart is heavy thinking about
what they don't have. The resources, the supplies, the knowledge. I don't get
it. I don't see justice. But they are His. They are beloved. Their joy is
infectious. They have so little, but their hearts are set on Him. They know the
big picture. They know this is not our home. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7PrvATLIZXI/UOjYTXuU4KI/AAAAAAAADQQ/Evj33JvS7Rs/s1600/Praise+at+Jeffrey's+Church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="291" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7PrvATLIZXI/UOjYTXuU4KI/AAAAAAAADQQ/Evj33JvS7Rs/s400/Praise+at+Jeffrey's+Church.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JTlqZ0BqXic/UOjX9x4kkqI/AAAAAAAADQA/zqwUBSOfQO0/s400/Gabriel+worshipping.jpg" width="293" /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wFbMAtmV2po/UOjYHg4JFBI/AAAAAAAADQI/i6-SKfa_b9Q/s1600/Jefferson+Worshipping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wFbMAtmV2po/UOjYHg4JFBI/AAAAAAAADQI/i6-SKfa_b9Q/s400/Jefferson+Worshipping.jpg" width="296" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We worship as one. One body,
the church, His bride. The King of glory, the Lord most high, all together
praising His name! Barely understanding each others languages and yet hearts
the same. This is a glimpse of what is to come. This is a glimpse of the
Kingdom. When all will stand together as Your people, lifting our hands,
shouting for joy to our King, dancing around the throne, every tribe, every
tongue united by the blood. One day, there will be no more suffering, no more
sickness, tears will be wiped away and all will know He is Lord! He will reign,
the Spirit will flood over, and the enemy will be no more. Chains will be
broken, the bondage broken. "Every knee will bow, every tongue confess He
is Lord!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> <span id="goog_1686176251"></span><span id="goog_1686176252"></span></span><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyYTb5foyYITjdSdbAmkO_ZEyBUqFat6KAGNrVxSa3b7vPwRMKfj7MMAourq5OFx4RyZdU58vHsiw3bMbhMeg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-35164868297944257892010-07-24T11:07:00.000-05:002013-01-05T20:05:34.937-06:00I Won't Leave This Here<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-844OEgn0FYg/UJWACcfGD2I/AAAAAAAADLQ/p8ytICE3SKU/s1600/Morning+Praise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-844OEgn0FYg/UJWACcfGD2I/AAAAAAAADLQ/p8ytICE3SKU/s320/Morning+Praise.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
God seems to be speaking so loudly to each of us on this team. His voice so much louder here than at home, or maybe its just that I'm taking the time to listen. We are in constant fellowship here. The mornings are my favorite. We wake up and have time for prayer and worship as a team. My spirit's refreshed and excited for the new day. We are consistently given opportunities throughout the day to sing and dance and spend time with our Lord. The quality time leads to a better recognition of His voice. I wonder how many opportunities I miss at home to sit and listen throughout my day. <span style="text-align: center;">"Be joyful always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances for this is God's will for your life."</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F_AQfJEh9JY/UJV_mevlV1I/AAAAAAAADLI/7mldca_-8As/s1600/Fellowship+Group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F_AQfJEh9JY/UJV_mevlV1I/AAAAAAAADLI/7mldca_-8As/s1600/Fellowship+Group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F_AQfJEh9JY/UJV_mevlV1I/AAAAAAAADLI/7mldca_-8As/s640/Fellowship+Group.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">There are no distractions here. There is no interference like at home. When the Spirit is speaking but five other noises are bombarding my ears, His voice becomes muffled. The life here is led simply. Freedom from the chaos & noise I surround myself with incessantly at home. The people here spend their free time in communion with their Father, not with facebook. These people are showing me how to live.</span></div>
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"I am the good Shepherd. I know my sheep & my sheep listen to my voice. I know them & they follow me." </div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5654779605351227681.post-53827050875238233572010-07-21T10:26:00.000-05:002012-11-03T15:54:20.983-05:00Now That I Have Seen, I Am Responsible<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969);">I am finally making it to the internet cafe where the power is running by generator so I'm not sure if this will last or not. It is our second full day in</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969);"> Gulu after 65 hours of travel. But the Lord has already shown me such vision for a future here with these communities. I prayed for clear eyes to see my purpose. I prayed for open ears to hear Him call my name. And I have seen and heard. </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F6wSWDG9CwQ/UJWDOVBkokI/AAAAAAAADLo/K8Y7u8OWrEc/s1600/Me+and+babes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F6wSWDG9CwQ/UJWDOVBkokI/AAAAAAAADLo/K8Y7u8OWrEc/s400/Me+and+babes.jpg" width="317" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">Every community we step foot in, the first thing that we hear is the need for medical care and resources. Every time the words are spoken, Marisa looks over at me and smiles. She too hears Him calling my name. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The people have been so welcoming, immediately serving us when we have come to serve. The food has been bad, really bad (fish beef? what is that? and why does it smell like feet?) </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've already been overwhelmed to see the expectant faith of the Acholi people and how they take even the simplest requests to the Lord, to see the struggles they face & their joy that seems to never cease, to see that by our standards they have nothing and yet they believe they lack nothing through Christ.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I keep thinking of the words to the Brooke Fraser song "Albertine"... "now that I have seen, I am responsible." Seeing the medical center broke my heart. I am now responsible. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mUKY9GYag-g/UJWBZNlaTqI/AAAAAAAADLY/bf22J3yz6XY/s1600/Me+and+Ris+with+Janet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mUKY9GYag-g/UJWBZNlaTqI/AAAAAAAADLY/bf22J3yz6XY/s320/Me+and+Ris+with+Janet.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is Janet. She is a young nurse here who is determined to make a difference. There are so many here like her that work tirelessly without resources, without help, trying to save lives. She taught us to make ORS (oral rehydration solution) made of clean water, salt, & sugar. A basic mixture that is saving so many from dying of dehydration. Yes, dehydration. All it takes is teaching the people here how to replenish fluids and electrolytes and lives are saved. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made a promise to her that I will come back. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made a promise to her that I will not forget. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7w7R3DhQPzo/UJWDiK73jrI/AAAAAAAADLw/M4kfjPbU8co/s1600/4857473661_f779a0b5fe_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7w7R3DhQPzo/UJWDiK73jrI/AAAAAAAADLw/M4kfjPbU8co/s400/4857473661_f779a0b5fe_b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seeds are being planted here and roots are growing deeply. I have no doubt that a huge chunk of my heart will be left here in Uganda. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel helpless now but I will be back with skills to help those people lined up at the hospital, waiting, hoping that someone would show up and make them well. There are plenty of days where I question going back to school but not now, not seeing these sweet faces. I hear Him calling. This is where I belong. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: italic; text-align: left;">"Christ has no body on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ's compassion for the world is to look out; yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good; and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now." ~Saint Teresa of Avila</span></div>
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LDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03545688026797784165noreply@blogger.com0