An Answered Prayer

Last week Sunday, my spirit felt rather dry.  My mind had been preoccupied with worries, and other things I had put above my time with the Lord.  I needed refreshing, and before church began I prayed that God would use Pastor James to speak to me.  To give me something that I personally needed.

Usually his sermons are roughly estimated, 75% Kamea, and 25% Pigin.  In other words, I spend most of that time letting my mind wonder.  But this Sunday I determined would be different.  I sat down on the wooden bench, and pastor began by telling us to turn to "buk Rom, chapter 4."  My heart skipped a beat. This is one of my favorite passages about the faith of Abraham.  A passage God has used to guide and encourage me over the last year.  I wondered which verses he would preach on.  He then began reading verses 13 to the end of the chapter, all in English.  Maybe you're thinking what's the big deal? - Well, I can probably count on one hand the times he has read any verses in English this year and last year combined. The majority of people in church that day couldn't understand English, but he was reading them in English. His sermon continued in spurts of Pigin and longer spurts of Kamea, but all I could do was be amazed at what God had just given me.

Maybe it sounds silly, but I know my God is personal.  He knew I needed that reminder not to loose faith. To keep my eyes on him. And he gave it to me in my own language so I wouldn't forget it.  

Catching up!

Hey everyone!  

I apologize for being a failure at blogging! I feel like I've almost forgotten how to, but I'll try my best to remember some of the recent things I've been getting to be a part of! I apologize for the briefness of each story, otherwise you'd be reading for days. 

Early in September, Bro. Matt and his family were out for a few weeks while Andrew, Rachel, and I hung back in Kunai.  One weekend we hiked to the site of the radio tower to do a little painting.  We packed a lunch and made a day out of it.  At the top, we made a quick phone call to Bro. John and Mrs. Lena back in the states.  It was so great to hear their voices on the other end!  We ate our biscuits and granola bars, took a few fun pictures, and then got to work.  The weekend before the Allen clan came back, Andrew gathered up all the scrap wood around the guest house to make a bon fire.  Rachel and I concluded that you can't have a bon fire without smores, so we made some with Bush Biscuits instead of graham crackers. They turned out quite yummy! 

While the Allens were gone I had the opportunity to teach Jr. Church in Mrs. Becky's place.  I was nervous at first, thinking about teaching 50 or so kids and keeping their attention.  It turned out great though! I had my friend Anna translate for me. Without her I'm sure the kids would have been lost with my half Pigin, half English stories.  We also learned a new English song, "Behold what manner of love..." I think the kids enjoyed it because they always asked if we could sing it again, "2 more times! 3 more! 4 more!" I usually would settle for 2 :) I didn't realize I had an interest in teaching, but those 3 weeks filled me with so much joy unspeakable! 

A couple weeks later, Bro. Brad Wells and three of his children came to help set up the radio tower.  The tower here will be a repeater of Bro. Brad's station in Mt. Hagen.  People here will be able to listen to preaching, scripture reading, and Christian music in Pigin. This is something many have been dreaming and looking forward to for a long time.  On Thursday, the 19th, many of us woke up early to carry pieces of the tower, supplies, tools, and lunch to the top of Mt. Yemya.  That trip up the mountain was the hardest one yet! Usually I just carry a pack of biscuits, and water - not hammers and nails.  When we reached the top, I was amazed at the amount of people that had made the climb.  Looking at the many faces, tears came to my eyes as I realized that I was standing in the middle of a dream come true.  

Zipping right along to this last week!  Andrew and Rachel were out for one week getting supplies.  Which meant I would be the only nurse on the property.  I don't know if it's funny or sad, but my prayer life dramatically increased while she was gone.  I've found that when I start to get comfortable, God has something planned to remind me of my great need for Him. - On Friday of this week, Margaret coached me through a stitch up job.  This particular lady had cut the palm of her hand all the way around to the top with her bush knife.  Ouch! 

On Saturday, my friend Manandi and I walked down to the soccer fields at Kotidanga together.  She had a game later that day, and I was free so I told her I'd come watch.  The boys game was intended to start at 9:30.  At 9:30 no one was there, just a few vendors at market.  So we rounded for a little while, and bought some tapioke, bananas, and a pineapple to eat for lunch. We found a spot on the grass and sat there for an hour or so as different friend's of her came to talk with us.  After a while many more people had come to sell things in market so we made another round, and met up with our friend, Anna.  By this point it was nearly noon and the first game hadn't even started yet.  We talked with Anna until the boys game started at 12:30. The afternoon rain started early in the guys game so they ended up postponing the girl's game. Even though I didn't get to see the game I had wanted to, I had a great time sitting and talking with Manandi, and meeting some of her friends. 

Today is Monday which means Rachel and Andrew, along with Bro. Matt and the two interns will be returning if weather permits.  Tomorrow the Gibello family is coming to visit for 1 week.  I'm sure we'll be having lots of fun since they have two small children!

Til next time!

Siria

Almost two months ago, Siria's mother brought her with a bad case of whooping cough and diarrhea.  We treated her for both, and told them to stay close by to return for shots the next day.  Instead of getting better, each visit she continually got worse.  Added to her whooping cough and diarrhea, it seemed she developed pneumonia and chicken pox simultaneously.  One week turned into two and still she wasn't getting any better.

We were running on fumes by this point for she wasn't the only sick baby staying in or near the clinic.  I had had it with sick and dying babies.  Almost every child I saw sleeping in their mother's arms I assumed was close to death.  I would ask Snowi, our helper, are they sleeping or sick?

On this particular day, we sat with Siria and her mother all day.  Her lungs were full of fluid, and she wasn't drinking any of her mother's milk.  We tried breathing treatments, and putting tubes down her nose.  Nothing seemed to help.  She would struggle to breath for what seemed like only seconds then would quit for what seemed like minutes.  I remember looking down at the lap lap her mother Jennifer had her wrapped in.  It said, "all things are possible with God," and I knew if this little girl lived it would only be because of Him.

We had all mourned for this little girl that we knew wouldn't make it, but still she grasped at every bit of life she had left.  She made it through that night and the night after that.  Her brain was injured from lack of oxygen, and she had seizures for some time afterward. It seemed she couldn't see or hear because of her inability to focus on anything or anyone talking to her.  We slowly weaned her off of the seizure medication, and she didn't seem to suffer from them anymore.  A few weeks later we discharged a little girl who I thought may never enjoy sight or sound again.

Last week she came back to the clinic full of joy and laughter.  She crawled around on the clinic porch, and even let me stand her up.  She didn't stop smiling, and I don't think Rachel and I could either. It seems everything about her is back to normal except for her hearing.

God truly worked a miracle in little Siria's life.  My God can make the blind see and bring the dead back to life. May I never forget the power of His healing hand.

The Perfect Day

What constitutes a perfect day?  I guess for some it might be making the final payment on a home, finally getting that promotion, or learning that you are expecting a precious baby.  I'm sure if I were in those situations I would consider myself to be having a perfect day as well.  But sometimes the perfect day is simple.

In college, I remember thinking the perfect day was getting out of class early, the sun was shining, and I had enough time to take the long way down Washington and Dixie home, just to admire all the pretty homes. Maybe the perfect day was being home on Saturday evening, and roasting marshmallows with my parents and sisters.  Nothing extravagant had happened.  It was just a simple day, and in my eyes, perfect.

We've had some difficult days as of late, but Wednesday it was like God kept trying to remind me that he is still with us, that He is still in control. It was one of those simply, perfect days. Peace kept washing over me again and again in waves. There were no fireworks, no pomp and fanfare, just peace.  

It's hard to describe an indescribable peace sometimes.  Sort of like trying to describe the way something tastes, or the way the wind feels.  You have to experience it to know how it feels.  So instead of trying to explain it, I'll just tell you a little about my day.

The first wave hit me while I was sitting out beside the clinic with Manandi.  The ladies have been cutting grass this week so we sat on the now golden yard, just talking about playing soccer and a bad case of Malaria she had one time.  An odd combination, I know.  We sat there together, enjoying our slow day.  I tried to soak it all up.  Every last bit of sunshine and laughter.  

After a few more patients, we found ourselves inside packing medicine with John Mark.  He packed and we labeled.  Manandi started to sing a new song I had never heard before.  Neither had John Mark.  She taught us the words, and we kept singing this sweet melody, "...Aleluya, Hosanna! Aleluya, Hosanna! Jisas yu nambawan!.." The wave swept over me again.  

Church had ended, and I found myself nearly stumbling over myself as I walked back home.  I couldn't stop staring up at the sky, as the sun had begun to set.  All kinds of oranges and reds spilled from behind the clouds. The birds were singing.  A soft breeze was blowing. It was beautiful.  I wondered to myself how amazing our God truly is to give us these things.  He could have chosen to make everything brown, to give all birds the same song, and never have us feel the touch of a gentle breeze. His goodness swept over me. 

Then yesterday Rachel had asked if I'd like to walk up to the airstrip with her.  At the top, we were both able to call and talk to loved ones.  It was wonderful to hear my families voices again. I finished my conversation, and Rachel made her phone call.  I walked over to the other side, and sat down to read the book I had brought with me.  This day wasn't necessarily what I would describe as being beautiful.  Not like the evening before.  It was overcast and I could feel a few sprinkles while I sat reading.  But as I was reading I had to stop and just listen. I looked over at a vast amount of jungle trees, and watched as the wind blew through them.  The sound they made told me of my God's presence.  His peace washed over me again.

My day may sound a bit boring, but to me it was sweet.  God was reminding me that I don't have to look very far to find Him or His peace.  So in Him, my day was perfect.  

Around the World

On Friday night, I usually have Ariel and Hannah over for dinner and a movie.  They come over around 5pm and we have a big time before we crash!  I noticed last time that it seems we have been eating a different international dish each week. We've had pizza and skillet lasagna, a cheesy Mexican rice dish, and this last week Chinese fried rice.  We've now decided to make it our tradition to visit a different country each week. I think this Friday we're going to India!  Please comment and leave ideas for dishes in different countries that we could try out!

Weekend in Aminawa

This weekend Andrew and Rachel invited me to go with them to Aminawa.  Saturday the church members began putting the roof on their first church building, so we went to be of help and support.

We left early Saturday morning before the mist and fog had a chance to melt away. I rode in the back of the truck with Anteresa and Baimuri, and nearly all of their children. Me, two women, and a bundle of children all piled up in the back, with Andrew and Rachel in the front.  It was an interesting ride to say the least. Every now and then, I'd glance at a little face beaming with excitement at all the fun riding in a truck can bring.  Then we'd get jostled around a bit, and that expression would change. Usually that would result in laughter from me and the two mothers.

We made it to our parking spot, and began the hike into Aminawa. We arrived around 9am, as the men had already begun putting up the roof.  It was really neat to see all of the people come out to help, even those that don't attend church!  There were people all over the hill side all day long.  Men putting up the roof or digging a pit for the fire, and ladies preparing all kinds of food.  Rachel and I peeled lots of kao kao and bananas, but they had squash, tapioke, greens, pit pit, and more!  It was literally a dinner on the ground. Once all the food was ready, they brought it to us on banana leaves.  I was pretty hungry, but they must have brought me enough food for 3 large men, so I ended up sharing most of my meal. By the end of the day I was dubbed, Nani (Nah-nee). I'm unsure of the spelling, but it means big sister.  It made my heart smile:)

As it started to get dark we walked down to the community hall building, and Andrew and Rachel set up the projector so we could watch some films.  They showed the story of the serpent being lifted up in the wilderness, and it's connection to Jesus Christ being lifted up to die for us.  Afterwards we watched the life of Jesus in Pigin. There must have been up to 200 people there.  Many who have not placed their faith in Jesus Christ watched as the gospel was presented to them.  I couldn't help, but to look out at the faces aglow with the light of the projector, and wonder if God was tugging at their hearts.  I know we were all praying for those that might have been lost.  I have faith in God's promise that his word will not return void.

We stayed the night with Reuben, at his house along with Malasi, Phillip, and their families.  Reuben is a member of the church in Aminawa, and Malasi and Phillip are two of the bible school students here in Kunai. The next morning I woke up to pigs, roosters, and babies stirring around.  I left my little room to go sit near the fire in the big room.  Malasi and Phillip led a devotion for their families, and I just sat and listened as they sang hymns, and spoke from God's word.

Church began around 9am, and we sat under the tarp as the weather went back and forth from sunny and hot, to misty and cold. When you barely know Pigin and only a handful of Kamean words, it becomes increasingly difficult to stay focused on a message or conversation, when running on little sleep.  I couldn't help but think how nice it would have been to be sitting in a padded pew back home, listening to a message in English.  But then I remembered all the people who watched the video, who desperately needed to hear the Gospel, and I realized how much of a wimp I was being.  God commands us to go to the uttermost, and these people need Christ as much as we in America do.  I wonder what if no one had come to Aminawa or PNG because it was going to be uncomfortable.  I had to stop and think about that day when I come face to face with my Creator. When He asks me why I didn't tell my friend, my co-worker, or that stranger about His Son, Jesus Christ. What will I say to the One who bled and died for me.  The One who loves me with an incomprehensible love. "Umm, I didn't want to make things awkward?" My heart breaks at the thought of all my lost chances, and time that I've wasted.  I'm grateful for that reminder this weekend.  I needed it.

After church we hiked back home, and enjoyed a tasty pineapple along the way.  We stopped to visit with Benjamin for a little while, and storied with him about his new house and other things going on around here. He is always a blessing to visit with. He has such a sweet spirit that is sure to always put me in a better mood. We left from there, and made our way home in the truck safely.

It truly was a wonderful weekend.  Filled with new memories, and rekindled burdens.  I pray I don't forget them.

His Compassions Fail Not

They sit there on the clinic porch.  Mamas with their babies, old men with their walking sticks, and children with their cuts and bruises.  Sometimes it seems endless.  The work load becomes heavy, and the days become long.

Somehow now, my dreams have become reality.  The thing about dreams though, is that they can be perfect. They can be however you want them to be.

In my dreams, I didn't imagine myself struggling.  I imagined things perfectly.  I would be the best helper I could be.  I would love these people with all of my might.  I would have the best attitude all the time.  I would do this, and I would do that.  Do you get the picture?

What I've learned is, I can't do any of those things.  Only He can.

Sometimes I find that my compassion is lacking.  Sometimes I find that it becomes a mundane thing to stare at these faces day in and day out.  Faces that have come seeking help.  Yes, sometimes it's a simple scrape on the knee.  Sometimes it's more serious than that.  Every time it's deeper than that.  There is a need here so much greater than the physical.  They have a need to hear about the Man who came to set them free, the Man who loves them with an unending love, the Man who's compassions will never fail them.

My capacity to love them on my own is weak.  My compassion alone will fail them.  My prayer is that it won't be by my strength, or my love, or my compassion, but His while I serve and live here.  That I would love the way He does, unending, always giving, unselfish, and never prideful.

"because his compassions fail not.  They are new every morning."  Lamentations 3:22b - 23a