Umar

This is Umar. Umar is from Sierra Leone. He was one of my patients in the hospital for some months, back in 2011. He stayed for such a long time that when I was allocating nurses their patients for the next shift, (he would be sitting on my lap) he would pick his favourite nurse to be his.
One day after we had been up on deck 7, as I gathered the patients, two boys, Umar and Amara grabbed one of my hands each to walk downstairs. Umar looked up at me and called me Mum. He had his own Grandma as his mother, but he had decided to call me Mum and that is what he called me until the day he discharged. It caught on and all the other kids and even some adults called me Mum for the rest of their hospital stay. Oh how they planted themselves so deeply in my heart.
When I think of the Ebola Virus Disease ripping through their country, destroying their families and maybe even my children who called me Mum, my face contorts with pain and tears begin to fall. My body racks with sobs for the pain this country is suffering. An unseen, deadly virus, stripping the country of their community love, as people are isolated and unable to be touched as their bodies fight a virus disease the world has never seen on this scale.

How desperately I wish I could be in Sierra Leone, not only fighting this virus but checking for those that I still carry in my heart. When the ship sails away from a country and I leave behind beloved patients, I know I leave them in God's hands. Who could be more reliable?! But how desperately I wish I could know they are ok! I long for the day I can stand face to face with them in heaven and speak to them in the same language.

 

   

Right Now

I would have thought in the past four years on the ship that I’d eaten enough boiled eggs to last me a lifetime, but when I woke up from my night shift today, it was the best snack I could think of to eat. Perhaps that’s my body’s way of telling me I’m ready to return!

Within the next week Mercy Ships will reveal the new country that my home, the Africa Mercy, will set sail to in the coming weeks. I can’t wait until it's revealed!

In the last couple of days spring has truly arrived to South East Queensland. That means I can actually wear a t-shirt outside sitting in the shade and still be warm! Those of you like me who don’t love winter will know the joy that this truly brings! I’m currently sitting on our porch swing, surrounded by a light, cool breeze, hearing the birds tweet in the trees and the leaves rustle (ok, and now the digger up the road making obnoxious noises). As the weather slowly changes a large part of me wants to stay and enjoy an Aussie spring and summer. It’s been four years since I’ve been somewhere for spring.

These weeks at home have flown by. There has been plenty of action in my life with a friend having an early baby, who is gorgeous and healthy. He is delightfully cute! By the end of the week I will have worked 35hrs in the kid’s ward, which has certainly kept me out of mischief this week. In the weeks gone I’ve also managed to squeeze in a little travel to Adelaide for a Louden girls wedding prep weekend, a trip to the beautiful Sunshine Coast with lovely Mercy Ships girls and even a flight to Sydney from Toowoomba! It was the most delightful experience flying out of my home town instead of driving two hours to the airport. There I visited more dear ship friends.

Windy day on Sydney Harbour

My sister’s wedding is only 14 days away and still plenty of organising to do (and wedding dress sewing for the busy bride!) Life has gotten so busy with all these things that my mind is focused more on being home than anything else. When I got an email from HR on the ship about details for my return, I looked at dates and counted the weeks until I might fly back to my ship home, my heart jumped a little, feeling like I was leaving all too soon. I guess I’m adaptable these days, to settle into the place to call home, wherever that may be. So much has changed on the ship since my departure back in May that I feel somewhat anxious at returning to my home. The other part of me can’t wait to be back in Africa, making a difference to lives who need a little more loving. My heart still aches for West Africa struggling through the Ebola Virus Disease. I hate sitting back and watching that unfold, seemly helpless to make a difference. I know those countries. I know the streets, the town names, the people. I know their fragile healthcare systems. The articles reporting on Ebola are not positive, but as I pray for the people, I know there are stories of survival. The latest BBC article I read from yesterday said that 55% of people with Ebola were dying. So 45% of people who’ve been infected with Ebola have survival stories. I wish I could hear them. Part of me desperately wants to join the aid teams over there, to make a difference wherever possible. For now I will wait and see where God leads me.

Right now in front of me I have family and friends, visits and catch ups, sunshine and t-shirts, coffee and good food.

 sigh. Look at that sweet face.

Not Just Another Day

Today I spoke about Mercy Ships to two very different groups of people. The first was a group aged about 70 and above. They welcomed me in to their annual Ladies Morning Tea with arms wide open. In fact they had waited two months for me to arrive home from the ship so I could come. They had eager faces to listen as I looked out over the crowd of about 100. I was met afterwards with many hugs, not from strangers but now friends, who shared my joy and passion.

The second group was aged about 12-16 years, plus older leaders. They were full of young energy, innocent questions and a longing to be heard. There were several African girls in the room who had grown up in Australia but knew which African country they had come from. I looked over their faces in the crowd and wondered what they would think of my presentation. When I speak about the ship, I always hope that I portray what I love so deeply about African people, not just that the majority of them are poor and have little access to health care.

After I finished speaking and it was time to go, many girls came up to talk to me or say thanks. Every single gorgeous African girl in that room came up for a hug and to say thanks for what I was doing.

 I walked away from both speaking engagements with a huge smile plastered across my face. It’s not every day that you get to speak to a big group of people about the thing you feel most passionate about. They were two very different groups but both received with hearts wide open.

Being home is full. It is full of shifts at the hospital, where I am remembering how to nurse in Australia. Not much has changed in the last four years, for which I’m thankful! It is full of wedding preparations, which has also included a few hours of very enjoyable but tough gardening. It is full of visiting friends and discussing life changes while drinking coffee. It is full of spending time with my friend’s kids and loving the stage of life that they are in, nursery rhymes and all. It is full of staying fit and healthy and trying to enjoy the cold weather. It is full of time with the family, in front of the fire or around the table sharing a meal. It makes my heart full.

When my alarm goes off at 0520am tomorrow morning, I know I will want to press snooze a million times to keep sleeping. I will try not to gag as I swallow my breakfast at such an early hour, for I know my reward will be seeing the sunrise over the hill as I drive to work. It reminds me each time that God is with me. He has not forgotten me. He knows when I sit and when I rise. He perceives my thoughts from afar. He knows that my heart is breaking over the devastation of the Ebola virus in West Africa and He has promised that He hasn’t forgotten those suffering with it. I would love to be there, easing pain and suffering, but I know God has me here, for this time. And although my heart is breaking, it is still full.

Photo credit: Ruben Plomp

It Brings Me To My Knees

This morning at church a family got up and told us the story of their son who was in a horrific accident earlier in the year which badly burnt his upper body. It was one of those stories where the story teller could not keep from choking in emotion, triggering the tears of those listening. They spoke of the heartache and trauma of the ordeal but how clearly God’s hand was working in the situation. Even though God continues to heal and walk this road with them, they still feel the continuing pain of their beloved son as he now walks this path of recovery.

I couldn’t help but sit there and think of each of our plastic surgery patients who come to the ship with such disfigurements after terrible burns. Many of these burns happen from the open fires that are used for every day cooking. If the family has money there can be hospital treatment for the burns, but as the baby, child or adult grows and the burnt skin contracts it pulls the limb into an often unusable position.

 

Each of these patients have their story of horror and pain. We marvel at many of them who have miraculously survived such horrific ordeals. It is such a joy to be able to operate on these patients and give them back mobility for everyday life. You can see the story of Lucrech and how his life was transformed.

Even though I’m not currently on the ship, I think about it every day. Not just because my friends who have been holidaying between field services are returning and posting photos and not just because I’m back in the nursing workforce in Australia with a huge pile of paperwork to complete, but also because every day I’m hearing and reading on the news about the Ebola outbreak in Guinea, Sierra Leone and Liberia. Yesterday I watched a very interesting clip by the Vice President of Programs and Government Relations for Samaritan's Purse, giving an update on what is being done and how to move forward to see it ended. Unfortunately there is no easy answer. Even with 200 billion dollars given by The World Bank, hundreds of people will risk their lives to see this deadly disease put to a stop. I have spent 10 months in both Sierra Leone (2011) and Guinea (2012-13) and walked away a better person for the people that I met and looked after. People such as these:

 

 
What can I do but pray that their lives are spared and the disease contained and put to an end?

Mercy Ships has issued a statement on the Ebola situation. The country we sail to next (Benin) has not had a known Ebola patient, so we will continue with the current plan.

I’ve seen a small boy dying of a haemorrhagic illness and it was horrible and heartbreaking. To think of this happening all over these three countries brings me not only to tears, with an ache in my heart but to my knees to beg God for mercy for His children. Join with me?