Well . . .

We got quite the unexpected and interesting e-mail yesterday from the Mercy Ships Academy Chief Administrator, the same man who was our neighbor and became a good friend back in 2004 aboard the m/v Anastasis; the same man who has called us to every summer program we've worked since then; the same man who told us there would be no summer program again this year . . . would we be interested in spending six weeks in Texas (at the Mercy Ships International Operations Center) this summer, working with the children whose parents are in training to become long-term crew?  Or if we can't, do we know of anyone who could?  We'd have free room and board and a stipend, too!  Knock us over with a feather - we had just decided to set up Sam's left shoulder surgery . . . pray with us as we see how God leads.

Need I say more?

An Update On Sam's Shoulder Surgery . . .

Sam saw his surgeon this morning and the report was good.  His incisions are healing nicely and the stitches are out.  He may start sleeping again at night (nope, he's been sleeping days only - I told him he was just like a mixed up baby!) in a week or so - it's a very common problem with this surgery - or so the surgeon says!  And the blood clot in his leg - I didn't mention we spent Tuesday evening at the hospital while Radiology determined that the hot spot he felt truly was a blood clot! - apply heat three times a day.  Continue in physical therapy and take the next FOUR to SIX weeks off of work!  Without naming names, someone in this house thinks he'll be going back to work sooner than that, but . . . he still can't lift for a month and won't be feeling really good for at least three, so stay tuned!  And thanks for praying - don't stop! 

Finding Aicha

Once, when I was looking for Aicha, I found her hiding behind her father. Since the day she arrived on the ward, she had been upset. I thought I could lift her spirits. I assumed cheering up a four-year-old would be easy, but, as I approached, she gripped her father’s arm. She looked terrified. Aicha’s big brown eyes met mine, and they told me something sad – she did not want to be found. 
Aicha was burned in a house fire. Flames had licked the sides of her face, the backs of her arms, her thighs, shoulders, wrists, neck, and hips. Her right ear was missing. Because she went without proper wound treatment, the skin on her elbows, arms, and sides contracted. This caused her skin to regrow in such a way that her inner elbows became stuck to her forearms.
 
Aicha received surgery onboard the Africa Mercy to release her contractures and graft new skin, but her glassy eyes remained round and wary. This little body had endured a lot in its four years, including heartache. The fire that left her this way had also killed her mother. Underneath Aicha’s wounds was a child scarred by anxiety, grief, and an inconsolable fear.
From her hospital bed in the furthest corner of the ward, Aicha could see everything. Abdom, her father, sat on a stool at her bedside and smiled apologetically to people who sent her into tears just by glancing in their direction. Abdom could not leave Aicha’s side without sending her into hysterics. He was the only comfort she had left. During bandage changes, she called out for her mother.
Aicha was scared of everyone. It seemed like there was no remedy for her fear. She didn’t care for toys, or treats, or hugs. She wasn’t interested in playing games. To approach her with a smile could induce panic. We are professionals when it comes to winning the hearts of even the most stubborn kids, but Aicha was different. Aicha was heartbroken.
 
Because Aicha’s recovery took several months, time was on our side. Slowly, she regained her mobility with rehabilitation exercises. Slowly, she became curious about the strange people in blue scrubs who brought her balloons and sat with her father. Sometimes these people in blue sang and danced. Sometimes they gathered in a circle by the door and bowed their heads. From her corner bed, Aicha watched.
When Aicha was well enough to go outside, she liked to sit on the deck in her father’s lap. Maybe it was just the sunshine, but she started to warm to us. Her grip on Abdom’s shirt loosened a little.

 

There were days that involved dressing changes and bitter medicine (on those days, we lost some ground), but they were followed by days with little smiles. We took what we could get. Winning over a broken heart means victory comes in shattered pieces.
 
Then came patience and love. Over those next few weeks, we loved Aicha until she asked to color. We waited until she smiled at our silly faces. We gave her space. We pretended not to notice when she took a little step away from her father’s side. We played it cool when she explored the ward on a scooter. Each time Aicha left the safety of her corner, there we were. We were safe, too.
Then came the day she fell into our arms. Winning Aicha was worth the wait.
 
Today, Abdom no longer carries the burden of being his daughter’s only comfort. When he leaves for work, he knows she is alright in his absence. “You have set me free. You have given me my life back,” Abdom says.

 

Now if I go looking for Aicha in the hospital, I know I won’t find her, and that’s okay. It’s not because she’s hiding – Aicha stopped doing that a while ago. It’s because she doesn’t need a hospital anymore. Today, Aicha is at home in Congo – hopeful, healed, and unafraid.

Photos by Michelle Murrey and Debra Bell, Copyright Mercy Ships 2014.

Today’s story was made possible by some wonderful volunteers who helped Aicha along the way. Thanks, Josh Callow, Jasmine Bursey, Erin Williams, Chris Glasgow, and Deb Louden.

No more happy place . . .

The nerve block in Sam's shoulder disappeared somewhere around 10:00 a.m. yesterday while I was teaching CPR-PR at the Y - in classroom B, not Kids' Stuff North where I normally teach (I know - creative naming by someone!) which meant I spent my morning dragging infant, child and adult manikins along with AED's, face masks, gloves, paperwork and school mats (yes, my class did thank me for protecting their knees!) through the Y - in a laundry cart!  I came home exhausted an hour later than normal to a husband in pain, a son who wanted to build a fire, a daughter who spent her morning being a "go-fer" and a happy puppy!  Of course, as Sam was telling Matt how to build the fire, he gave him the wrong instructions - he closed the flue instead of opening it and filled the house with smoke setting off the fire alarm and scaring the dog. Somehow, the alarm going off must have scared Matt, too, because he spilled a mug (and I mean his gigantic Mercy Ships mug!) of hot chocolate on the fireplace and the floor.  And all I wanted was lunch!  So after icing and drugging the husband, petting the dog, wet vaccumming the floor, and folding laundry (I started that before I left) - I ate!

Fast forward to this morning and I taught 4th grade Sunday School.  We're in Exodus and talking about those grumbling Israelites and how after seeing God do all those miracles, they still complained!  We also talked about how we could turn our complaints into thanksgiving and it hit me on the way home - I have not been doing that!  

So to everyone who heard me complain this morning about my whiny husband, I apologize.  I'm now working on being thankful.  I am glad that I do have a husband and I'm even glad I have mine.  And I'm even happier that he seems to be doing way better now than when I left this morning.  Thanks for asking . . .

Sam's Shoulder Surgery

Sam, the right-handed teacher, had shoulder surgery on his right shoulder at 7:30 a.m. this morning.  Our friend, Scott, brought him over to the Surgery Center and once the kids were up and ready for school, I took Scott's place.  Scott snapped these shots of Sam before I got there:

The surgery went well, the doctor was pleased, but now the nerve block is starting to wear off and Sam isn't smiling quite as well.  Micah took some great pictures of he and Annie sleeping, but alas - I can't download them so just enjoy Sam! 

My Mischievious Helpers

So . . . compliments of a food gift we received

I spent quality time Monday evening and most of Tuesday

on the throne - and I so mean porcelain and not grace -

which left Matt and Micah to make dinner last night!

Nothing like a good flour fight to make the meal even better!

 They even wacked the poor black lab!  But they did clean up their mess (: