Swimming

Today a friend, colleague, and hero leaves Kijabe for Liberia for the next couple of months to go “swimming in Ebola juice.” Scott worked through an ebola outbreak in Uganda several years ago, and is probably one of the most qualified people on the planet to serve – but many closed doors and delays have meant that just now he is finally leaving for Liberia.

The term “swimming in Ebola juice,” was meant as an insult by a blog commenter, but Scott took it as a challenge and a reminder of the importance of incarnational ministry; going to and serving those in desperate need – sharing God’s love through actions.

We all swim in some sort of bad-ness, whether in Africa or America. A wonderful Kenyan couple lost a full-term baby unexpectedly here in Kijabe the week of Christmas, then Arianna’s cousin experienced the same heartbreak at home.  They are swimming in grief, trying to hold onto faith and hope in the face of a nightmare of pain.

The little ones at Kijabe swim in malnutrition, tuberculosis, tumors, and hydrocephalus. Arianna and her colleagues spend night and day caring for them – treating, dosing, hand-holding, praying, researching – joining them in the dark waters.

But we must also swim in hope. . .sorrow will last many nights, but a morning of joy one day will come. Susan comes to Kijabe and writes a cancer protocol. GE offers a grant that educates nurse anesthetists in Kenya, South Sudan, and Somalia. Arianna and her colleagues partner to create a pediatric critical care/emergency medicine fellowship, the first in East Africa (the country currently has 7 pediatric CCM/EM trained pediatricians, including Ari and Mardi).  Amazing things are happening all around us.

(our wonderful neighbor Sherri, a physiotherapist, took the picture above of one of Arianna’s patients)

John the Baptist was in prison, awaiting his death, and he too began to swim in despair. He sent messengers to Jesus to ask if he was really the Messiah. Jesus replied, “the lame walk, the blind see, the deaf hear, the dead are raised.”

Daily, this happens at Kijabe. Stephanie, our audiologist, fits hearing aids so that little ones can hear for the first time in their lives. Mike, our orthopedic surgeon repairs broken limbs so that patients who were carried into the hospital will walk home. Monday morning I will photograph eye surgeries, watching the blind receive sight. And the dead are raised. . .

Arianna witnesses astonishing things. It is not uncommon for her to perform life support and bring back to life a little one who has stopped breathing and lost a pulse.  But last week a baby came, who after every effort was not able to be saved. They handed her to the family so that they could hold her and say goodbye. The child lay in its parents arms, and after an hour without a breath, her chest began to rise and fall.  The little one did not ultimately survive, but her parents were able to hold her and say a good goodbye through a miracle of mercy.

Thank you as always for your prayers and love, for making it possible for us to swim in Kenya. We are so very, very grateful.