Memories

Memories can come from the most unexpected places...a song, a flower, the ocean, a picture, a certain type of food, etc. So many things in our life can evoke memories of the ones we love.

This morning Brett and I had one such moment. Brett is currently reading The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson. As he was reading one particular section, he said, "you've got to hear this." So he began to read and I couldn't help but wonder if this man was talking about Lester B Robbins, better known as my granddaddy. Here's what he read...

Our family started attending Calvary Church when I was in the eighth grade. It was already a mega church with thousands of members, but my father-in-law had an amazing memory for names and faces. If he met you once, he would remember your name forever...granddaddy might not remember the name, but he would most likely know your face. Despite the size of the church, he never lost his shepherd's heart. He had a hospitable spirit that gave him an air of accessibility....yep, this is him. Maybe that's why my parents felt like they could call him at two in the morning after my doctor issued a code blue and half a dozen nurses came rushing into my hospital room in ICU. I thought I was taking my last breath.

My mom stayed by my side while my dad called information and got a home phone number for the Schmidgalls. In less than ten minutes, my future father-in-law was at my bedside in his black double-breasted superman suit that I would later swear he slept in....Oh.my.goodness! He is talking about granddaddy, who never went to pray for someone with out his suit on! Honestly, I started laughing so hard at this point, and Brett said, "just wait, it gets better."

My father-in-law was a large man with large hands. They looked more like meat hooks than hands..."he had hands the size of hams" is a direct quote from Leo Showfety, an army buddy of granddaddys. And when he prayed for people, his hands would envelope their head like a skullcap...can I get a witness from those that granddaddy prayed for?! When he laid his hands on my head, I remember thinking that there is no way God won't answer his prayer. He had a familiarity with God that was disarming. He had faith in God that was reassuring....and here is where the tears start. Yes, I do believe that he talking about my granddaddy. 

He could have called a staff member to make the visit. He didn't. He could have waited until morning. He didn't He settled for a short night's sleep on short notice to pray for a thirteen-year-old kid who was fighting for his life....I know there were plenty of late night calls for granddaddy to go pray for people. Little did he know that this thirteen-year-old kid would one day marry his daughter. Little did he know that this thirteen-year-old kid would one day give his his first grandchild, a colicky baby boy named Parker. There is no way he could have every known, but that is the glorious mystery of prayer.

Now my words...don't get me wrong, my granddaddy didn't walk on water, he had his faults, as every human being does. However, he loved the people that were put in his charge. My granddaddy had many stories that he used in his sermons about the goodness and mercy of God. Stories of survival in the war. Stories where God showed up and if it hadn't been for God showing up, I would have never known him. One day, I think I'll share that story with you. For now, just know that this story made me recall some wonderful memories of an amazing man of God that I am proud to call my granddaddy.

Sometimes Life Hurts

This morning at 5:20 AM my alarm sounded and a new day began. As always, I checked to see if any messages had come through and, sure enough, I had missed two phone calls. The calls I missed where from family members and I knew when I saw them that it wasn't news I wanted to hear. 

Yesterday, Piet Swart, a sweet, golf loving, big smile giving, laughing, curve ball throwing little boy, went to be with Jesus. He had battled cancer for just over 866 days or 1/2 of his too short life. 

I've never had to navigate the death of a child and I can not imagine how it's done. My prayers are with Jenn, his mommy, Pieter, his daddy, and Cameron, his big brother. That God will wrap His arms around their heartache and give them peace in the midst of trial. 

Life is fragile and sometimes it just hurts. In loving memory of Piet....

The Deep End...Emily Jewson

Emily Jewson is a 17 year old young lady that I met through the Zion Christian Church team from England. She wrote this on her arrival home and I just wanted to share. The "deep end" is not where God lets you drown, but it's where He swims with you into great adventures! Thanks Em!

I had made a lot of prejudgements of Africa before the trip and it looking a lot like The Lion King was one of them.

I would've happily stayed on the flight there a lot longer. I'm not sure if that's because the sunrise over Africa was so beautiful to look at or because I knew I would be completely leaving my comfort zone in my comfy bed, back home in Halesowen.

A long drive to the camp took us to a 'service station' in the middle of nowhere. At the time my Lion King idea was fairly accurate as we watched a load of Ostrich, Buffalo, Zebras and Rhinos gathered by a watering hole. The other half of the drive was a little surreal and the journey was made interesting by the views out the window. But oh how the contrast was immeasurable. Imagine one moment seeing what looked like a lively Vegas strip - casinos, clubs, hotels and even a Hooters. No more than 5 minutes later on the same side of the road seeing a couple hundred shacks all cramped together in a small space, completely lifeless.

As we stepped out the van and into the embrace of our new family at Ten Thousand Homes, us British were overwhelmed with how many hugs we were receiving. They welcomed us, for real. I knew I wasn't going to be in Africa by myself but I guess I never really imagined how much of afamily everyone was going to be.

God pushed me into the deep end on the very first day when me and a few others were going straight to do a home visit in a local community, and then to afterwards help at a feeding programme in a different community. Again I remembered how my comfort zone was in my bed, way back at home in Halesowen and how much I wanted to reunite with it. As soon as we got to the home, the 4 year old, son ran up to us and hugged our knees. As soon as we got out the trucks in the community we were subject to many hugs, hand holding and piggy backs. Although most of the children didn't understand or speak English, I found something so beautiful in loving on these children and just communicating through showing love instead of speaking it.

I've always found something really unnerving about hospitals and they scare me so much, so when the opportunity to visit one came along and I thought I might as well, God showed me that there was an even deeper end, and yeah he pushed me right in. Around 40 children on the ward all with different problems and severities. I felt like an absolute melon to start with, what do you say or do with a child that doesn't understand you and is in too much pain to play? You find yourself either high-fiving them or talking to them anyway, although they look at you funny.

We were all deeply moved by a 2/3 year old sitting in the corner sitting awkwardly on his bed. I've never seen a face so numb, we couldn't make him smile, talk or even look at us. The blanket on his back slipped down and our sympathy grew even deeper as we saw the large burns covering his back. The expression on his face changed from nothingness to an expression of pain. His face winced up with pain and our winced up with tears. We prayed and spent time comforting him and by the time we had to leave, he released a small smile. His name was Blessing.

1 Peter 2:9 says "But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light." The Day of Royalty was the day we devoted every inch of love we had in our bodies into the children's lives, by giving them the bestest most fun day ever! I walked with a little girl to take her to the bouncy castles and she stopped and turned to me and said "I love you white people". Our job was done as the little ones left the camp declaring that they were kings, queens, princes, princesses, special possessions and God's treasure.

After a 7am breakfast we were told that everyone on team was going to chip into building a temporary home for a girl who desperately needed it. I'd met the girl briefly on the first day I was there and she was so full of shame, her background was heart-breaking and her head remained fixed on the ground, it was a challenge to change her expression. In all honesty I wasn't excited at all because I didn't believe that building was my cup of tea and this was way out of my comfort zone. But at that moment God reminded me that my comfort zone was still in bed in Halesowen and I got to work digging for the cornerstone of her home. The degrees was in the thirties and shade was nowhere to be seen but everyone pitched in and the family spirit was still present within the team. Only a couple days later and the home was complete. Not only was there a home for this girl but you could see that there was a hope as well. Another one of my favourite moments was the girl and her friend dancing around in her new home with the biggest smile on her face and posing for photos. Never have I ever felt so overwhelmed with joy because of the joy I'd seen in someone else.

Although this is only some of my 'stand out' moments no one could've prepared the team for the things we'd see and the stories we'd hear and all my prejudgements of Africa soon disappeared as each day was a new adventure. God cast out any anxieties and worries I had and didn't just comfort me, but stretched me so that I'd never be the same again. I know now that when I step out into the unknown, I am reminded that its not unknown to God and he wouldn't put me there if there was not a blessing to be received. Lastly we spent one evening telling each person in the team what we saw and appreciated in them, I find that kind of thing very cringey so I just kept my head down. I'll never forget the first thing someone said about me was "Emily, you've been really brave on this trip". This touched me as I began to see all the times in the past I'd ran back and hid in my comfort zone missing out on opportunities... And then I saw how much God had blessed me and used me when I left the comfort zone at home and just trusted in Him.

Pray for Piet

Please pray for Piet and his mommy and daddy, Jen and Peter.  Life is fragile.

It has been a rough day.  Pieter had a CT scan last night.  It revealed that the neuroblastoma has grown since his scans on 8/28.  Diseased lymph nodes are blocking the blood circulation and nerve delivery to his gut...that is why it has shut down.

Lots of other mumbo jumbo going on...he is working hard to breathe, his heart is beating so fast to try and deliver oxygen throughout.  Fluids have leaked out of his blood vessels and are trapped in his soft tissue...his circulatory system is dry while the rest of his body is flooded.  The doctor keeps saying, "I am very worried about your boy."

We had used morphine over the last  several days, but today it was switched to continuous with the ability to add boost as often as every 10 minutes.  They are still working on finding the right level to manage his pain.

Tonight will be very telling what direction he is going...if he continues to worsen, we will be faced with making the decision of how much intervention to do to help him breathe.  A nasal cannula, chest tube, or incubate. 

At this rate we do not have enough time to wait for the research study recommendations.  We are going to assess in the morning if he can tolerate chemo. 

The hospice/palliative team is in place...we may be heading home tomorrow with their clinical support to make Pieter more comfortable.  I shared with a friend that we were asked if he needed a hospital bed at home...we should be choosing between a bunk bed or a trundle for future sleepovers with Pieter's friends.

Then There Was Joy!!

I knew the title of this blog before my feet even hit the floor this morning, what I didn't know was where I was going to see the joy. I assumed that it would be in Mbonisweni since that is where I spend Thursday morning. Barbara and Blue were going to teach the ladies to knit and I knew that would be joyful. That's not where the joy came. 

The joy came in the least expected place....Themba Hospital children's ward! There were two team members that had yet to experience the hospital and last night I "informed" Jeremy that I would NOT go back today to take them. His response was simple, "we'll make a plan." 

The morning came and we packed up the team and headed out to Mbon ready to cut veggies and knit. I still felt that these two guys should experience the hospital and we had a ton of people helping with cooking, so I called Kacy and asked about going to the hospital. There was a jump in my spirit as she answered the phone and she said, "sure, I don't care who goes." Something inside me knew it needed to be me, "is it ok with you if it's me?" Her answer was sure, "Yes, sometimes you need to just go back and see." 

I loaded up Andy and Julian, who hadn't been, and Luke and Clair, who were with me yesterday and off we went. The change in the atmosphere was apparent as soon as we walked into the hall! The hall was teaming with nurses, doctors, and parents! We worked our way down the hallways and into the rooms where we heard them call Malungo...white person...and Go Go!! They were looking at books that we had taken yesterday. They were laughing! The joy was tangible! 

We played peek-a-boo and great giggles erupted. Hand games were being taught and re-taught. Books were being read and pictures being shown and the joy just got greater and greater. 

Now to be completely honest, I think it was our joy that was increasing. The little boy that was in the car accident was still there but appeared to be in less pain and improving. The little burn victims were still there but they were feeling loved. The mom with the two year old was still there, but he had eaten two plates of food this morning and she was joyful and HOPEFUL!! Our joy was being filled up through their joy!

God knew that we needed to see it all again. God knew that we needed to see that His joy is ever present. Why else would there be two left that needed to go? God knew!

So, in ending...Life is still so very fragile but joy does come in the morning!

Life is...

...fragile.

I thought I understood this, however, I'm coming to a deeper understanding every.single.day.

Life is fragile.

This morning I took four amazing people, from England, to Themba Hospital. Luke, Emily, Claire, Lucy and I started out of our drive way with light hearts, ready to read to the children and to make them smile. We arrived at the hospital and headed up the stairs to the Children's ward. Usually when we arrive on the ward there are children in the hall ready to be hugged, kissed, loved, and, hopefully, get some sweets. Today, that was not the case.

Life is fragile.

Today there were thirty-one children on the ward and less than half of them had a parent with them. There were at least eight sweet babies with one of their legs tied to the foot of the bed because they had leg injuries. Three sweet young boys in a room marked "infectious", so they couldn't leave their room. One very scared two year was clinging to his mothers body, she was twenty and trying to get answers about his left lung which has not developed properly and so he struggles to breathe. "How are you", I asked. "Scared and needing answers. I don't like that I must leave him at 11:00 and can't come back until 1:00. I don't understand...he's only two." Next door, Emily said hello to one mother and she just started to cry. What do you do? You hug and you pray.

Life is fragile. 

I worked my way down the hall playing peek-a-boo and got very few smiles. Could it be that these children just needed mommy or daddy? I think so. I made my way into a room with a nine year old boy who had been the victim of a car accident. His mother stroking his little arm, him staring off into space, making sounds of pain. She was asked to leave as they were getting ready to work on him. No one was with him, so I stood by his side. As I reached out to touch him, his monitors started going off. I glanced up and saw that his heart rate was all over the place. It was fast and high and then it would slow down and be barely there. A nurse and a doctor came in and asked me to leave.

Life is fragile.

I have a cousin whose four year old son, Piet, has been battling neuroblastoma, a very aggressive childhood cancer. He has been put to sleep somewhere between 75-100 times. His little body is tired and having trouble rebounding from this last anesthesia. He has a urinary tract infection...E-coli. His feeding tube has stomach acid leaking out of it because his gut is not waking up. He is four...

Life is fragile.

Yes, life is fragile. It is so fragile that God sent His one and only Son to earth to walk through the exact same fragile that we face daily. He sent Jesus to bear stripes for our healing and hang on a cross for our sins. He sent Jesus, so that, when we have days that want to break us into, we can lean into Him and be wrapped up in His peace. A peace that is beyond understanding.

Emmanuel, God with us, has promised to never leave us or forsake us, even when life is fragile.