He withholds no good thing.

        The last afternoon, Saturday, of our trip out to the forest, at precisely 3pm, a sharp pain moved into my back and stayed.  It brought along its friend nausea that came in very effective waves every half hour, or whenever I tried to stand up.  We simply assumed that I had eaten something that my body didn’t like and once it was all out I would feel better.  However, once there was nothing left in me to come out and the pain was still there it was time for a new theory.  Everyone was so loving and wanted to help. Nina, the pastor’s wife offered to cook me all kinds of good things.  Noele, one of the Malagasy guys who came to work with us and normally leads the campfire singing told Tessa that I was like his little sister and he was very sad that I was sick and that night, while I was in the tent and everyone else was around the fire, he told them that they couldn’t sing that night because I was sick.  The next morning I could sadly only wave to my new friends from the car on the way home.  However, 2hrs into the drive the pain subsided and disappeared and Noele told Tessa that he could tell I was feeling better because I was talking again.  After that it only came back for about an hr or so in the afternoon and then a twinge here and there for the next day or two.  I was well, case closed, I started to eat again and get things in order for my trip home.  

        Not so fast.  Midmorning Tuesday it came back much stronger than before and I had to go to the clinic there in Tulear where I was given a shot for the nausea and a shot for the pain (which really really hurt going in, by the way).  I went back for some tests in the afternoon and the doctor told that I had an infection of some sort and sent me away with two antibiotics and pain medication.  This was the afternoon that I realized that Malagasy people are much better at handling pain then I will ever be as I ended up taking the pain meds he gave me plus some strong stuff we had sitting around.  That night Tessa and I slept for brackets of 3hrs and then woke up for whichever dose of whatever it was time for.  Our operating theory by this time had evolved into kidney stones or a kidney infection or both.  

        Wednesday morning when the nausea came back we realized that I was dehydrated and we needed another way to keep the medicine down.  The decision was made quickly to fly to the capitol where I could get better healthcare.  By that evening, through the efforts of many, I was in a hospital bed in a clinic run by the Seven Day Adventist Church and shaking hands with Dr. Laura, a kind, middle aged, Argentine man.  The next day I got to take a little outing to another clinic for more tests, all the while hugging a much needed bucket that by the end of the week I was rather attached to.  

        The resulting diagnosis from Dr. Laura was a kidney stone and an infection and the next two days were spent with an IV in my arm while I drank water like a fish.  Once my body was all hydrated up I was taken off the IV and we tried oral pain medications and antibiotics again.  All went swimmingly and Tessa and I were able to move from the clinic to the home of a beautifully hospitable missionary family in Tana that had been helping us all week.  With the aid of antibiotics, anti-nausea meds, pain meds, a warm bed, and tons of tempting food I spent the next two nights working out travel plans and getting my body ready for the trek home.  The decision was to get home before anything else major might happen instead of waiting in Madagascar until I was fully well and pain free, not knowing when that might be.  Under Dr. Laura’s advising we changed my money saving 5 countries in 2 days route home to a direct 22 hour trip through South Africa with mom and dad waiting for me in Atlanta.  

        This brings us to Sunday night with a departure time of 3pm scheduled for Monday.  I was feeling great, eating well and only had to deal with the pain for a few minutes here and there and when I was in between doses of the pain meds, when the first would wear off before the next had fully taken effect.  I had an army of friends lifting me up as I traveled and enough of all the medications to get me home.  Monday morning I woke up into for a 7am dose of pain medication without any pain to medicate.  I went ahead and took the next dose, thinking the pain would come before it fully took effect, but it didn’t.  By my 3 o’clock take off from Madagascar I had run errands, hugged Tessa goodbye, and cut the dosage of my pain meds in half!  Then there as an easy transfer in Johannesburg and a 16hr flight to the States, during which time I stopped taking the pain pills completely and felt no pain.  

Mom and dad pick me up and drove me home. Im here now, very jet lagged, and needing to unpack.  I have an appointment with a doctor later this week to make sure all is still well with my insides and that’s that.  

Now, having told the story I will say that my attitude was rarely close to what it should have been.  I am a mean, over dramatic patient and everyone, especially Tessa had to have lots of grace with me.  I took good health as a given and wanted to know why God hadn’t made me all better yet.  Through some pointed words from Tessa, several songs, and some well timed memory verses from Corinthians the Lord gently reminded me that I was created to glorify Him, not to have perfect health at all times and if He could be glorified by me being sick and in pain then that is what I should want.  I was reminded that my God withholds no good thing from those who walk uprightly (Psalm 84:11) and saw how faithful He was and how unchangingly good He was. Through the past 10 days He provided for me to get good medical care a world away from home, provided for good communication with mom and dad, and flooded me with grace in the hospitality of the family in Tana among so many other things.  My idea of a good thing - feeling better - paled in comparison to these graces, to being surrounded by loving prayers and encouragement from the body of Christ, to learning a little more about living this life in a condition of surrender, to seeing the Lord provide for me, and to being able to testify to His provision.  Great is His faithfulness. 

The Forest.

       The trip out to the forest started early with a bumpy 6hr ride out.  We slept in tents for the week that we pitched outside the pastor of the church’s house.  It was a week full of new experiences like holding baby goats, helping to harvest cassava, teaching in the village school, being awoken by a duck pecking at the tent, pretending to be airplanes while running down an airstrip, and sitting around the fire every night singing worship songs in a dialect of Malagasy under a clear view of the Milky Way and the Southern Cross.  The believers were truly wonderful and hospitable and it was a blessing to come to them as foreigners in so many ways but to quickly find the bonds of the familial bond of God’s Children.  There is so much more I could say about what we did and who we met, and if you put a hot chocolate in front of me and sit across from me in a comfy chair I will gladly tell all, but for here and now I will just share pictures and say that this tiny village in the southern baobab forests of Madagascar is an amazing place where the Lord is working through the great faith of a handful of believers.  

Sweet Preparation.

        I have had my hair braided in Madagascar three times.  The first time was by one of the girls at the church who did a beautiful job.  She just did it quickly the night that we went with the youth group to see the fireworks for Madagascar’s Independence Day last summer.  The second time was in a village while I was surrounded by women and girls and children, all trying to help while laughing about the fact that the white girl was getting her hair braided.  

        And then there was tonight.  On tuesday my sister, my two housemates, and I are going to spend a week out in a village.  In preparation we got our hair braided, since that would be the easiest way to keep our hair out of the way and semi-clean for the week.  Hannah had three of her friends from church come over and braid our hair and have dinner with us.  What sweet, beautiful ladies! Their skill and speed were amazing, but what really got me was their joy.  We sat there listening to our sisters in Christ singing praise songs to Jesosy and watching the gap between our worlds disappear.  It was such a beautiful sweet time sitting there and then sharing a meal with them, and it was a very yummy meal as well.  

        At one point Naina, one of the ladies, said that when she was younger she had prayed that God would let her meet people from around the world and as she had come to know Christ she realized that we were all the same as Children of God, and tonight, sitting with all of us, she could see that that was true.  

        It was a wonderful preparation of my heart for this trip.  In my mental preparation for sleeping in a tent, not showering, and having battles to the death with nasty bugs I hadn’t given much thought to the glory of what I was getting to go do.  Naina’s statement pushed my thoughts to something greater than my discomfort, pushed them up to the fact that I am going to fellowship with faithful believers as Tessa shares stories with them and they help her tell the stories in their dialect so that the stories of the Bible can be shared with more and more people.  I am getting to help out in a school for the village kids.  I am getting to taste, in a very very very small way the beauty and glory of the promise found in Revelation 7:9, that one day “a great multitude...from all tribes and people’s and languages” will worship together before the throne! 

        So keep us in your prayers as we travel up with a pastor friend of ours, as we are there, that God would be mightily glorified in our time there, and as we head home for my and Hannah’s last few days in Tulear.

Week One.

         Well, let’s see, it’s been about a week, there were some nifty dinners and game nights with the team, an overload of adorable kiddos, a trip to the beach, a pirate birthday party, the arrival of a friend from Tana to stay for a few weeks, a Scot’s short visit to see Hannah, some blessed time with the youth group at the Independence Day fireworks that involved some language barrier breaking communication, and a Malagasy concert featuring Madagascar’s top Christian artist.  A wee bit busy to say the least!

         Now blog, I have to admit to you that we simply aren’t close enough for me to want to share with you the most inner workings of my mind, and I don’t think we ever will be, unless I find a way to share them in some cryptic, poetic form.  This is a complication because that is where most of my thoughts and adjustments have been over this last week.  The culture shock of being in Madagascar and living a different sort of life that I went through last summer only slightly reared up its nasty head, taking the form of blisters on my toes.  My shock this year was more from all the people who now make up the Toliara missionary team.  Last year it was just me and Tessa, now: me, Tessa, her roommate, two families, and two journey guys.  And in the next few weeks several more folks will be arriving.  It has been great to get the chance to live in community with all of these folks!  But it was a bit of an adjustment at first to be so busy spending time with everyone.          

         Thus, all the adjustment has hung out inside my head, and I will willingly admit that it has been slightly more involved than I have let on here.  The result has been conviction about the way that I have my hands wrapped so tightly around my life.  Who am I to hold onto what I had already claimed to have surrendered to my Savior? To lean over His shoulder while He writes the script and keep suggesting lines and entrances and full scenes, getting all in a huff when it doesn’t go my way on opening night.  I am so busy trying to be the director that I neglect playing my part as the Ransomed One, the Child of God.  How foolish I am when I give up that blessed role to fill one for which I am not suited.  

So there you have it blog: a week of Independence Day fireworks, group dinners, jetlag, guests, a birthday party, and a trip to the beach have begun to teach me to live with open hands and a heart of surrender.

Oh and there are a plethora of dandy photos on Facebook for your viewing pleasure. 

92 hrs.

-the full account

From brotherly love to real love in 7 hours flat.  That there about sums up the first bit.  This trip started out with a 7 hour flight from Philadelphia (the city of Brotherly Love) to Paris (the city of Love).  That flight was lovely and I landed in Paris in the morning.  I made sure all was in order for my flight the next day, bought food and then went and waited for the shuttle to the hotel. There are my knees and feet waiting....a thrilling piece of photography I know.  

Once at the hotel I slept. It was great. Of course this meant no sleep during the actual nighttime hours.  Not being able to sleep is a very unfamiliar concept for this kid, on the whole, I would say I’m not a fan of it.  Then there was breakfast.  I have a great fondness for french hotel breakfast, they have cheese and bread and ham and jelly and croissants and hot chocolate and yogurt and fruit and wonderfulness, all so grand.  This time I even found applesauce!! Then it was back to the airport for the flight to Madagascar.  

I think it would be very interesting to interview people about their interpersonal communication on flights.  Especially international ones.  You sit down next to someone knowing that this is the person you will be sitting with and who’s shoulder you may be sleeping on, for the next 9 hours.  In my case there was an added language barrier and a lengthy conversation with the middle aged french couple I was sharing a row with seemed unlikely.  I generally like to talk to the people on planes, but this time I settled for a few deeply meaningful smiles and nods and occupied myself with taking a slightly obsessive amount of could and sunset pictures.  

We landed in Madagascar's capitol around 10 pm and I was met by the hotel shuttle and went to the hotel for more sleeping.  My final flight was originally set for the next evening but it was delayed until the next day so I had some extra time to spend with the missionary families in the capitol city, a true delight.  Then a 3:45 am wake up call, a 4:30 am taxi, and a 6:20 am flight got me to Tessa.  I arrived with my body and my French and Malagasy vocabulary all completely exhausted.  But I did arrive in time to go to church!!   It was so great to see everyone who I had hung out with last year.  Then there a grand time of cooking for dinner with the the rest of the team and getting to know Tessa’s Australian roommate, Hannah.  So much goodness!!  

I truly saw the provision of the Lord over this trip.  Every flight had seats for me, even the one that was delayed resulted in blessed encouraging time with friends in the capitol.  Communication with mom and dad went smoothly.  My biggest fear, staying at the hotels alone, wasn’t even an issue at all, I felt safe at each of the hotels, everything went smoothly with my rooms, and there was always breakfast!  I praise Him for watching over me in this, for starting the trip off with such encouragement.  I can’t wait to see what the the next weeks will hold.  

Tomorrow's Tomorrow....again

346 days and 18 hours ago I posted a blog titled Tomorrow’s Tomorrow.  Here I am again posting just about the same blog.  I will hit the road on Wednesday and start the trek to Tessa’s house.  

.....And that’s about all I had to say with this one.  The Malagasy adventures are about to begin and this blog is about to get reacquainted with being interesting.  I will be doing the final packing tomorrow with Toto Rains Down in Africa and Shakira’s Waka Waka playing in the background.  I will be living in Tulear, Madagascar for about 6 weeks doing whatever is needed of me.  I am stoked to be going back and full of anticipation for the chance to see my sis again.  Please be praying for peace and safe travels and smooth connections.  But above all please be praying for a heart within that is surrendered to the work of the Gospel this summer!  

“For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.  But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.  We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.  For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.  So death is at work in us, but life in you.” ~2 Corinthians 4:5-12

Going back?

Guess what! As of today, I am planning a return trip to the little island nation I love so much.  In fact, we bought a ticket for part of the trip today!! I am really excited for this, just dropping a line to say that, if all goes according to plan, there will be a few more updates on this here blog this summer :) Happy travels.