Crazy Confident in God!

Today's sermon was taken from Hebrews 10:35-11:3.  Somewhere in there, Pastor Wes said, "We do crazy things because we are absolutely confident in God."  Crazy things like Abraham going to the Promised Land without even knowing where the Promised Land was or Noah building an ark when it had never even rained before or God promising to build a nation from Abraham who was very very old and very very childless.  

 And I thought, "Wow!  What crazy things have I done because I was absolutely confident in God?"  Here are just a few in no specific order:  

• While recovering from a concussion, stuttering when I was tired, and not sleeping at night, I went with my seventeen-year-old daughter to Ukraine with "No Longer Music" because I knew without a doubt God wanted me there.  Little did I know it was to heal me!
• Barely able to walk and struggling with polymyalgia rhuematica, I accepted a position at Sand Creek Adventures as the Team Build Course Manager because I knew God would take me through and He did - to His glory!
• I brought my fourteen-year-old son to Togo during a period of civil unrest because we felt God say, "Go!"  And I have to believe that there some day there will be fruit in Matt's life from our time sailing from Togo to Tenerife.
• I traveled thirty-two hours one-way by plane to bring my multi-racial children to East London, South Africa to live in a hotel with prostitutes outside our windows at night and to serve on Mercy Ships. Ask our children about East London and you will hear the most amazing stories . . . 
• We lived under ship security, port security and UN security in Monrovia, Liberia where our daughter almost died because we believed God said to "go!"  Our lives are forever changed . . . 
• Believing God was bigger than sub-Saharan tropical illnesses, we obediently returned to Africa.  This time to Cotonou, Benin.  Since then, we've found out our children are of Beninese descent and their ancestors may have truly come from "the Point of No Return" to America.  God also provided our daughter with health . . .
• While the country was still recovering from civil unrest, we found ourselves obediently serving with Mercy Ships in Freetown, Sierra Leone.  Just yesterday, we were laughing from the memories . . . 
• Birkenhead, Torshavn and Rotterdam?  You want us to go where, Lord?  The song we sang on our very first service with Mercy Ships was "Yes, Lord!  Yes, Lord!  Yes, yes, Lord!" and we just keep singing it . . . to His glory!

"I told you so!"

While drying my scar yesterday morning after my shower, I noticed blood coming out of a hole in my scar.  Six weeks after surgery, this should not be.  The day before I was finally allowed to go swimming again, this REALLY should not be.  I was frustrated.  I was angry.  I was depressed.  Bleeding hole means absolutely no swimming.   

While on the phone later that morning with my girlfriend who's husband was at the Mayo Clinic being treated for cancer (as we spoke), she encouraged me, "Go to the doctor."  But really, all I wanted to do was go swimming . . .

For Jill, I called the doctor's office.  I got an appointment for this morning.  My surgeon arrived.  He took one look at my knee and said, "Your internal stitches are not dissolving.  They are coming up and out."  

Once again I was frustrated.  I was angry.   I was going to be depressed.  I said to him, "Did I not tell you this happened last time I had surgery?  Why did we not do something different?"  I think if looks could have killed . . . 

He pulled out three of those dastardly internal stitches using tweezers to dig around in my knee.  It wasn't pleasant, but it was far less than what they had done to Jill's husband yesterday in Rochester. 

So once again, I am not allowed to swim . . . until Tuesday, and now only if  I wear what they call "second skin", a water tight bandaid.

That will be seven long weeks after surgery before I am allowed back in the pool . . . In reading about Leon (from Mercy Ships) and hearing about Brian (my neighbor), I have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to whine about, but I'd like to indulge in a private pity party for just a bit longer.  Give me an hour or two, and I'll be okay, praising God that it was NOTHING serious.  My problem was fixed by a tweezers!           

Leon

This post has been reblogged from "Ainsworths in Africa".  Enjoy!

 

 

 

Many of us have injuries, stretch marks or war wounds – all of which leave behind a story in the form of a scar. We might try and hide these blemishes to avoid re-living the battle. But what happens when your scars become the focal point of your life?     

      

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon for 42 year old Leon, catching a lift on the back of a friend’s motorcycle. Racing through traffic, the driver swerved to avoid oncoming vehicles as they made their way across the city.  All of a sudden they lost control and Leon was thrown from the bike. Given the extent of his friend’s life threatening injuries, Leon counted himself lucky to only walk away with flesh wounds around his jaw. With the hospital closed and little money to spend on treatment, Leon made the long journey back home to his remote village. Little did he know that leaving his injuries to heal without medical attention would result in a keloid tumor of scar tissue that would grow larger and heavier every day.

Fifteen years later, unable to access the care that he needed, life with this wife and eight children had become increasingly difficult. He pushed through and continued working on a cocoa farm to support his family, but it was no easy feat: “There are certain things I just can’t do at work, like using a chainsaw. It’s just too uncomfortable for me” said Leon. “It brings me down that I can’t do my job properly”.

Word of mouth brought Leon to Mercy Ships, as his wife and children waited eagerly for his return to his village. Back home he was used to being mocked, the taunting voices becoming a part of everyday life: “There are few people left that empathize with me anymore. I am sad and not really living my life, but rather coping with life”.

The tumor, which was one of the largest keloid tumors the plastic surgeon had ever operated on, was successfully removed and a skin graft used to patch up the remaining wound around his jaw. But surgery alone could not remove the emotional baggage that had grown around Leon’s heart. Before long a smile began to spread across his face, where once there was sadness. The scar tissue that had grown from years of torment and ridicule began to break away: “I feel lighter” he proclaims, “like a weight has been lifted and not just because of the physical tumor. My burden has been removed”.

As the time drew closer for Leon to return home, he pictured his reunion with his family: “My younger children won’t recognize me, they’ve never seen me without my condition!” he exclaimed. Leon’s tumor had determined how he’d felt for a very long time; different, rejected and displeasing. But after time on the Africa Mercy, those feelings were exchanged for assurance, acceptance and contentment.

From Darkness to Light

Written by: Rose Talbot, Photography by: Lara Arkinstall

Adama was five months pregnant when the world around her started to flicker and fade.

Months passed as her vision continued to dwindle. Because of the clouded, disc-like cataracts in her eyes, soon all she could see were shadows and shapes.

Maybe it will clear up after I give birth, she told herself, hoping that the loss of sight was somehow linked to her pregnancy.

But once she’d delivered her twin babies – a boy and a girl – 30-year-old Adama had to face the truth. She was blind. Her babies were faceless. And she could do nothing to fix it.

“I held my babies after they were born, and I couldn’t see their faces. I thought this would last forever; that I would never know what they look like. I was very desperate. I didn’t have any hope.”

Adama – along with her newborns and four other children – moved in with her older sister, Aissatou, who became their caretaker. Aissatou welcomed them in lovingly, but with her own children to take care of as well, the burden was heavy: “It’s been a very hard year,” Aissatou, in tears, reflected.

For Adama, the reliance on her sister was challenging in a different way. The sudden inability to take care of her own children left her feeling like a bad mother. “Since my eyes are dark, I can’t walk alone, go to the market, cook, do laundry… I can’t do anything without help.”

Adama’s blindness stretched on for almost a year. The twins were six months old, their faces still a mystery to their mother, when her husband first heard about Mercy Ships.

For this family, the opportunity to access a state of the art hospital ship meant more than just being able to have free surgery.

It meant giving Adama the chance to step out of the darkness.

It meant being able to take care of her family instead of depending on others for help.

It meant being able to see her loved ones again.

It meant hope.

The day after her operation, Adama sat on a wooden bench waiting for her eye patch to be removed. It was the moment she’d learn whether or not her eyesight had returned.

As the patch was peeled back, Adama remained with her eyes closed for a few moments. Gradually, she blinked them open. A smile slowly spread across her face.

Her family members, gathered nearby, were some of the first sights to welcome Adama back into the world of the seeing.

She walked by herself to greet them, no guiding hand needed – “When I die and go to paradise and meet my own people there… that’s what the moment was like.”

She reached for the twins, drinking in the details of their faces for the first time. Tiny noses; long eyelashes; round cheeks. Adama cradled them both in her arms at the same time, eyes dancing between the two.

“I never expected that my babies would be so beautiful,” she murmured.

The cataract surgery Adama received took less than half an hour. The impact of her restored sight will reverberate throughout the rest of her life. There will likely be countless moments where Adama is freed because of the ability to see again – but it’s hard to imagine one more meaningful than a mother’s patient love being rewarded with this sight.

Thankful Thursday!

While on this particular Thursday I am thankful for many things (including the warmer weather!), I want to share only 2.5 of them:

• I am thankful that I am able to pray for my neighbor Jill-at-the-top-of-the-hill and her husband, Brian, as he is underwent cancer treatment at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester today.  I can't imagine going through what they are going through, but I am thankful that I can go before the Throne of Grace on their behalf.  "Dear Lord, destroy the cancer."
• I am thankful for my daughter who helped me take down Christmas decorations (save the tree) while cleaning today.  She helped with the cleaning, too.  And Matt got some vacuuming action in as well. 
• The "point five"?  I am thankful that the decorations Micah broke were glue-able and she did it.  The ones I dropped are history!

"Say what?"

We received a $10.00 JC Penny's Reward Certificate today so I took my very favorite daughter shopping for new underwear.  We found a package of six for $30.00, but with $10.00 off, I said we could buy them.  It's not always easy to find something in her size that she likes, nor is it always easy to bring along a cooperative shopper.  Today I had both.  We were done.  We went to checkout.

We gave the person at the register the panties.  We gave her the coupon.  I pulled out my credit card.  She rang us up.

"That will be forty-nine cents."

"Say what?  Those were $30.00 underwear."

"But they're on sale and with your coupon, that's forty-nine cents."

Seriously, we laughed all the way home.  Who buys six pairs of underwear for forty-nine cents?  That's a little over six cents a pair!  Awesome sale!  

Happy New Year!