Kingdom Come

I have been trying to sort out the emotions flying around inside me on this Africa trip. As the expression says in my part of the world, “This ain’t my first rodeo.” This is the third medical team I’ve been on and I continue to feel privileged to be a part of this team. We work long and hard, get dirty and sweaty, endure heat and humidity in the African sun and cram ourselves into tight transport or into often less-than-ideal conditions. Outwardly, our reward is little more than photos, a few tourist trinkets and bouts of diarrhea or dizziness.

But I rarely enjoy a group of people more. We laugh until we cry and tease each other mercilessly and irreverently. The lighthearted banter and puns fly freely throughout the day. But when the situations turn serious or an urgent need arises we are all business. And there is no doubt that the patients come first. More than once we have had to convince doctors to stop seeing patients for their own good. And once on this trip, after an already-long day in the village, Dr. Nelson examined three extra patients outside our guesthouse in Ouagadougou under the porch light, sending Jessica to fetch the appropriate medicines. We all care.

Even Lee, who has lived here the longest, shakes his head at the tragedies and hardships faced by the patients that stumble through our little makeshift medical clinics.

And that is part of what I’m feeling --the helplessness I feel in the midst of the great need. Helplessness at knowing we visited two villages and a small neighborhood clinic in an area where more than 30 villages have almost no medical care. At knowing there is another district neighboring this one that is probably just as bad if not worse. At knowing that many of the most tragic have limped away with little we can do in our little clinic.

And yet I come eagerly on these trips. Those of you that know me well recognize that I love adventure. In college my friends and I even parsed our definition of adventure by saying it had to deal with extremes of temperature, time, distance, discomfort , and/or risk to be considered a legitimate adventure. We considered the shedding of blood bonus points. Although these trips hint at adventure we do our best to minimize risk and bloodshed as well as mitigate as many extremes as possible. It isn’t only the lure of adventure that draws me.

No matter how many times I face the injustices of life and the poverty and suffering so evident in developing nations I am left with questions. But I know the echoing silence I have found on previous trips is the only real answer. My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness. I echo the biblical passage in claiming that I know nothing but Christ and Him crucified. I love these trips because it distills life down to where that is so clear—Jesus is the only hope. Here in Africa I build my faith-foundation afresh from Jesus up.

My Bible becomes a lifeline in the midst of the storm. I devour it rather than reading out of obligation. When Dorothy borrowed my Bible earlier on this trip and I forgot to retrieve it before bed, I jokingly accused her the next day of trying to starve me. But that is sometimes how it feels. Praise songs pumping out of my MP3 player and time in the Word and in prayer become a hungering necessity rather than a dull obligation.

But to imply I come for the spiritual high these trips create would be a lie. It isn’t a high so much as a desperate lunge at the only lifeline that makes sense amidst the chaos of injustice. Underneath there is some bit of me that leans back to the story about a man throwing starfish back into the sea. He reasoned that to the ones rescued, he had at least made a difference.

I drew hope from the story our radio partner from Sierra Leone shared with us last year when he visited our medical team in Ghana. He recalled that a group of white people had visited his village when he was a child and talked about Jesus, coupling the message with fun and love that he remembered for years until the day he gave his heart to Jesus much later in life. If I could be part of something like that it would make the time away from Rachelle and Natalia worthwhile. Even that small probability makes the discomforts seem totally insignificant. And a turkey dinner with family would be a small reward compared with the surpassing riches of the Kingdom.

God’s Kingdom come here to earth. I think that is what this is about. How beautiful it is when we work together in unity, black and white, continent to continent, culture to culture. Hallelujah our Savior is alive. Those moments where you know this in your bones. Even a teensy taste of the victory we have awaiting us is so sweet. How sweet to taste the flavor of victory here in Burkina Faso, arm in arm with our Burkinabe brothers who are shining bright light here in this dry land. Amplify their voices, Lord. Intensify the light that shines here. Energize them.

And thanks for letting me be a very small part of your Kingdom coming. That is why I’m here. Yes Kingdom come here on earth as it is in heaven.

Beautiful Patterns

Ellel Medical Center in Saonre´ (half hour outside of Ouagadougou)

We have seen a lot of women and babies here at the ACTS Burkina medical center named Ellel. Nearby is a church under construction and an active school.

The beauty of the colors and patterns the Burkinabe women wear is striking and captivating. Sheila pointed out that if white women tried to wear the same things they would look schizophrenic or ragged. But these women manage to look elegant and dignified.

As I write I see a blue and orange flower pattern, yellow wheels on a blue background, pink and green prints, a purple green and blue print, orange, lime green and purple with a blue background. Simply amazing colors and patterns.

Many of the women today have been wearing covering over their heads indicating their Muslim beliefs. Our interpreter, Rachel, said that when her mother became a Christian she needed to leave home and live with her pastor’s family.

She was told by her mother that she wouldn't be able to have children. However, praise God, she ended up with 11 kids, one of whom interpreted for us here for the last few days.

Doctors Sanchez and Leon examined 67 patients at the clinic this morning. The word from the team in Ghana is that all is going well there also.

We plan to reunite tomorrow (11-27).

Moving On

Tansega: Tuesday(11-23), the final day here also marked our final day with the whole team. The plan was to stop work a bit early and go to see patients at our HCJB Global Voice radio partner, RED.

On Wednesday (11-24), the group will split up. Lee Sonius will head back home to Accra, Ghana. One part of the team, including Steve and Dorothy Nelson, Jessica McMillan, Emily Martin and Rebecca Weber, will hop in a van travelling three hours south to the border of Ghana and cross over to assist another radio partner, Peter Awane in Bolgatanga. They will be met at the border by missionary Joseph Kebbie, HCJB Global radio trainer who also lives in Accra.

They will see patients and children with Dr. Steve, Emily and Jessica working up the medical side. Dorothy and Rebecca will have a whole new crew of children to minister to. They return to Burkina Faso on Saturday (11-27) to rejoin the team, minus Emily who flies to Accra to plan and strategize for her full-time return.

In the meantime, Doctor Xavier Sanchez, Dr. Dora Leon, Sheila Leech and I will stay in Ouagadougou and work in a medical clinic on the outskirts of the city where a lady named Joanna has a community health clinic associated with a school, orphan care and microenterprise as well.

Silly Human Tricks

The team's medical focus is directly linked to the central purpose of proclaiming Christ and making our Burkina Faso partners look good.

But also on our list of purposes has to be the spreading of joy. Dorothy and Rebecca make more smiles in the first hour than can be imagined.

Lee and I do our best when we can. Hardly an hour goes by that Lee isn’t discussing football (that's soccer to some of us) while promoting his favorite team. All of Africa - at least those who have met Lee- knows it is Manchester United.


He will quickly coin a nickname for anyone and uses it until they smile. He can also flick bottle caps to the kids, quickly drawing a crowd. If called on, he is very talented at walking on his hands. But this trip I found out I can juggle better.

Emily says that every time she saw Lee today, he had a new ornament of some kind. He grabs stickers when Rebecca hands them out and sticks them on his shirt; he gets his face painted along with the kids and wears his proudly all day; he stocks up his wrist with stretchy bracelets and gives them away one by one to whomever catches his eye as needing one.

I even began pulling off the white stickers left on the page after we used all the adhesive medicine labels and stuck one on everyone. But Lee is a force, pouring his boundless energy into everyone around him.

The Silly Human Tricks are a big part of lightening the mood and spreading joy to those around us.

Living Stones

A flat tire.

A traffic ticket violation by our taxi driver as we went to breakfast.

These two incidents delayed our arrival at Toeghin. When we finally arrived at the clinic, we observed a short line of stones and a plastic bottle. This, we were told, marked somebody's place among the many people standing in line or, in queue.

This temporal substitution of stones for a flesh and blood being immediately brought to mind 1 Peter 2:4-5:

“As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. “(ESV)

Our living stones (patients) were wisely waiting in the shade.

The day had begun with our minds preoccupied with details, and patients and organization. Later though, I was struck by the “Living Stones” that built our spiritual day into an acceptable sacrifice.

Our interpreter, Karim, echoed the theme as he shared with us his story. When he was young his mother became very sick with a problem with her ears. His Muslim family encountered a Christian who prayed for her and she was miraculously healed. Karim’s father, while remaining a Muslim himself, insisted that his wife and children become Christians in order to assure their health and safety. The fruit of this is Karim himself, who has selflessly served our doctors and nurses tirelessly throughout the day. And the light in his eyes testifies of Jesus.

At times I think our African brothers know more worship songs in English than I do. Rarely does a half hour pass without some songs, hymns or spiritual songs echoing across the clinic, many times by our interpreters who learned the songs during their English studies.

Doctor Dora Leon is walking out her own living sacrifice today. Feeling ill and dizzy, possibly from her malaria prevention medicine, she pressed on throughout the day. She, Dr. Steve Nelson and Dr. Xavier Sanchez treated 115 patients, despite our late start.

The colorful parachute flapped with the joy of the children’s smiles. As we walked through the area, we found our partners praying and chatting with local Muslims about Jesus. It only takes a small imagination, great partners and the Power of the Kingdom to see a line of stones flowing out the gate of the clinic at Toeghin and across the Sahel of Burkina Faso into eternity.

As one of the songs echoing today said:

Let it be, Lord Jesus, let it be.

High Heels and Motorcycles

Throughout Ouagadougou, the capital city of Burkina Faso, women in beautiful dresses and shiny high heeled shoes ride motorcycles for transportation. Many times they ride double with a friend or family member and additional cargo or children.

Dresses and high heels may not be the ideal clothing for motorcycling, but it works. Three-inch heels locked over the pegs on a motorbike don’t tend to slip, and somehow the women gracefully straddle the bikes without hiking up their skirts.

This, I think, may be a great metaphor for ministry in Africa. My cultural eyes look and see an unlikely mix of dress clothes and motorcycles. But Africans, in this case the Burkinabe (the name for the people of Burkina Faso), make it work with grace and ease.

This is just like ministry partnership at its finest. Our HCJB Global Hands team wanders in jet- lagged and in a cultural daze, yet with hearts to help and serve. Surely, we stick out like high heels on a motorcycle. Yet our African partner steers us in the right direction, connects us with the right helpers and surrounds us with great people and puts us in great places. All of this is done with the same grace and ease and surprising agility that allows the women here to climb on a motorcycle with a dress on.

And away we go…