. . . I saw the figure of Jesus, standing barefoot on broken glass . . .

Today I got the opportunity to help with screening. The typical process when the Africa Mercy arrives in a country is to have a mass screening. Due to the elections that are coming up, Mercy Ships decided to change their screening process to avoid too large crowds for everyone's safety. Because of this change, I didn't think I would have the opportunity to take part in any sort of screening activities. However, I lucked out. I got to go help escort patients.

Our day started out at 6:30, when we left the ship for the handball stadium. We arrived to a long, orderly line of people. I helped to put out caution tape to direct people where they needed to go, and then it stared to rain. Fortunately it was a quick storm, and we got underway with barely a hitch.

My job was to guard the gate and escort patients to the area where they would be assessed by the medical professionals to see if they were eligible for surgery. I used my limited French to see how people were doing and interact with the children who were there. The day was a mixture of heartbreak and joy. One nurse told me they should write a book on how to tell someone their tumor isn't big enough for surgery. I got to watch her do just that a moment later. A man with a small tumor on his jaw came up. His face fell as she said it wasn't big enough for surgery. His friend scoffed but she explained that due to the limited time and resources of the ships, we had to prioritize the tumors that were life-threatening. The men walked away, and we all felt sad.

But there was hope! I escorted a man with a giant facial tumor to the screening area. I clumsily asked him how he was in French. "I speak English." was his response, in a clear, strong voice. I was taken aback, but in a pleasantly surprised way. He was scheduled for surgery, which was so encouraging.

As I looked over the line of people, I thought about how each and every one of them is made in the image of God. How Jesus died for each and every person there. Mercy Ships tries to have prayer teams available for the people who are turned away from surgery. I like that, because it shows that even if we can't help them physically, we still have hope in the great Physician. Only He can provide the hope and healing we all yearn for.

I was not able to take my camera to the screenings, so besides the picture of me in scrubs, the other photos were taken by Mercy Ships photographers on a different screening day.

I have decided I have to have a job that enables me to wear scrubs!


Professionally taken Mercy Ships photos:

L is for the way you look at me . . .

As I have mentioned, I live in the 1o berth cabin. This means that I have nine friends whenever I need them. They are amazing women, and I have been blessed to live with them. On Valentine's Day, we had a roommate dinner. We all made snacks of some variety, some of us dressed up, and we drew names and wrote a poem for whichever roommate we picked. We danced, sang, ate WAY too much sugar, and just had a wonderful time. Thanks, ladies, for making this year the best Valentine's ever!

Annie Lou, Caitlin, Bethany


Lyndsay and me


Emma, Amy, and Joy


The 4418 girls: Top row: Lyndsay, Bethany, Caitlin, Amy, Emma, Joy
Bottom row: Marianne, me, Rachael, Annie Lou

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!

Okay, so I am in the final stretch. It's sad, unreal, exciting, and strange. But this will be my last farewell to my friends who have left before me blog! Because you see . . . I am the next one to leave. Sigh.

Priska



Okay, so you left a long time ago, but I was in such denial about it that I refused to add you on here. So this is your time. I miss your face. I miss your sense of humor. I miss the comments that I can't believe came out of your mouth. You are great!

Bethany



You are the roommate I had the longest. And I'm so happy that we shared all this time together. You are amazing, funny, fun, caring, and a party waiting to happen. I wish Virginia and Colorado were neighbors, because then we could be too. I love you, and although you left about three hours ago, I miss you already. Talk to you soon!

I found your picture today . . .

Here are some pictures! Enjoy!

The bow


The general feeling during the longest lifeboat drill EVER! Kendall and Amy.


The crew gathered to watch us arrive.


Land ho!


People waiting for our arrival.


Building our wall of containers.


Awesome friends: Emma (my bunkmate), Bethany, Kendall, Kim Anna, and me!


The view out my window


Streets of Lome after the rain


I love this! It's sort of like the one of Benin that I took.


And now, for my lovely friends who are no longer on the ship, here is a look at the new pool, or as we call it, Deck 9:

Looking in


Looking to Deck 8


The funnel, which is now all blue and has the new logo on it (it was once mostly white and had the old logo).


Looking across the pool deck


The stairs going up to the pool


Hope you liked them!

It's about time for my arrival!

I go home in roughly 20 days or something along those lines. I am really excited to see my family and friends so soon, and yet I am really sad at the prospect of leaving. I will miss the friends I have met here and being a part something so much bigger than myself.
As we pulled into the port of Togo, there was a brass band playing all sorts of the African worship songs that we learned in Benin and deeply love. I realized as I saw the excitement of the people both on the ship and on the dock how much my soul loves Africa. In spite of all the difficulties living in Africa can pose, I just love it here. I love the people and their hearts. I love that any occasion calls for a dance party. I love the music, and the joy and abandon with which they worship. I will truly miss that.

On the other hand, I feel ready to tackle the next chapter of life. I really hope I get into grad school, because it sounds wonderful to go back to Fort Collins and go back to school and learn something that I think I will love. But even if I don’t get in, I’m feeling more and more that I can trust that God will take care of me regardless. I mean, I didn’t get in to grad school last year and God allowed me this wonderful adventure in which I got to finally travel and meet amazing people and serve Him. I think I will be disappointed and sad if I don’t get in to school, but I think I can handle it too.

But I'm not yet ready to leave. So far I love the little bit of Togo that I have seen. The dock is really nice and they have cordoned off a section for us alone, which means no dodging trucks and motorbikes like we did in Benin. Soon, we will have patients in the hospital, and the first surgery is scheduled for the 24th. It's so good to be back!

. . . this song of hope . . .

We are arriving in Togo tomorrow morning. It has been a pretty good sail. I thought I would illustrate the highlights of the sail using passages from the Bible, via biblegateway.com. So here we go:

"so pursue them with your tempest
and terrify them with your storm"
Ps. 83:15

"Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me."
Ps. 42:7

The first couple of days of the sail were very rocky. On the sail to Tenerife, we rocked 15 degrees at times, and we thought that was pretty impressive. On this sail, there were a couple of points we rocked 25 degrees. It was epic.

"I will be glad and rejoice in you;
I will sing praise to your name, O Most High."
Ps. 9: 2

A group of us girls had an impromptu worship night on Deck 7. Though battling seasickness and fatigue, we raised our voices to God. It was wonderful.

"He stilled the storm to a whisper;
the waves of the sea were hushed.

They were glad when it grew calm,
and he guided them to their desired haven."
Ps. 107: 29-30

The last days of the sail have been pretty calm and peaceful. I am so excited to get to Africa again, and I'm also having fun seeing it through the eyes of my roommates who haven't yet been there. Though my time in Togo will be short, I'm looking forward to seeing what God will have for us there.
Please continue to pray for the elections in Togo! After those are over and the potential for strong reactions by Togo citizens has passed, we can focus more on the outreach.

And when the day comes I'll meet you here

We left Santa Cruz de Tenerife yesterday. I am feeling relieved and excited to be going back to Africa.
My time in Tenerife was wonderful yet extremely hard. There have been few times in my life where I felt more bleak. It was strange. We went to Tenerife to have the ship inspected, do maintenance, and have a bit of a vacation for the long-term people. It was a wonderful time of relaxation and respite for the people who had spent the prior 10 months in Benin. My role in this time was less clear. There were few people on the ship, so we were slow at work. My co-workers all had time off for varying reasons. I did not. Towards the end of our time here, I was getting discouraged and having a really hard time being civil towards people. Finally, I asked for two days off. The first day, I went to the mountains alone to have a date with God. It was so nice and relaxing. I realized then that I haven't been alone for a while. Here are some photos from my day alone with God:










As I am returning home in about four weeks, I have been thinking about my future a lot. I applied to Colorado State University for their Occupational Therapy grad school program. If I get in, I will move to Fort Collins over the summer to take my last two prerequisite classes and then start graduate school in the fall. If I don't get in, I am not sure what I'm going to do when I get back. It's a strange place of limbo, as I cannot make definite plans one way or the other, and I especially can not while I'm still here. Last year at this time, I was in almost the exact same place. I had applied to the same program. I was waiting, unable to make plans one way or the other. In the end, I did not get into the program. I got on the waiting list, which was encouraging, yet not because it was like they were saying I was almost good enough but not quite. It was frustrating. But had I made it in to grad school then, I would not be out somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean as I type this. God knew what He was doing, though I did not. So I'm trying to have faith that regardless of the results of my application, God will make the next chapter of my life His. I read this blog entry the other day, and I thought it expressed this truth quite well:

A lesson from the Garden of Eden: How God prepares for us

Posted by: elizabeth carmen in Untagged on Jan 14, 2010

In celebration of the new year, I went back to Genesis 1 to read: “In the beginning, God created…” I read through this chapter, noting the order he created things in and wondering about the significance, like how the birds and fish came before land animals.

Anyway, then God creates man and woman and gives them the command to live on this earth. “God said, ‘Look, I have given you all the plants that have grain for seeds and all the trees whose fruits have seeds in them. They will be food for you.” (Gen. 1:29)

As I read that, I noted the significance of the fact that, even before he created this man and this woman, God had already prepared their environment for them. They didn’t have to ask for food or even know a world without provision--it was ready for them as soon as they stepped onto the scene.

And I realized how that’s still God’s nature: To go ahead of us, prepare the way for us, even before we ask or know what’s happening, he’s at work. What an encouraging reminder for me during this time, when my environment (at least job-wise) is rather bleak and hazy. I can trust that despite what my eyes may see, God is at work, prepping the landscape of my future that will get me through.

I have a month left here. It will go by so fast. I'm praying that I don't miss what God has to teach me in my final four weeks on the Africa Mercy.