The beautiful and the terrible

We’ve been in Kenya for 3 weeks. That has been more than enough time to learn that this mission is infinitely bigger than my small mind could have possibly imagined.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9).

I also didn’t realize how big my idols were. We had asked the Lord to strip away everything that we rely on other than Him… and He is faithful. There have been the small, silly idols like a good cup of coffee, a consistent warm shower with plenty of water pressure, my comfortable familiar pillows, reliable Internet. Then there are the challenges that are a little harder to swallow like mud pouring from the water faucet and shower, aggressive mosquitoes that may or may not be carrying malaria, my children who refuse to wear shoes (demanding to be dewormed very soon), the anxiety of wearing a pager that could go off at any moment, my inability to communicate basic information to my patients, an unreliable internet.

Finally we come to the ones that would be truly unbearable without the sustaining hand of God. There are quite a few children at the hospital that I simply don’t have a clue what is wrong with them. Whether it is lack of knowledge on my part, lack of availability of needed tests, or lack of necessary medications, our team is only left with what should always have been our first option… prayer to a loving God. Even more difficult is when we have the necessary tests or treatment but the family cannot afford it. I find myself avoiding a “very expensive” 1400 shilling ($14 usd) test because the family might have to sell a cow or their property if I am not careful about the cost, and that could potentially cripple the entire family. As I type this, there is an otherwise healthy 17 year old boy in the High Dependency Unit (HDU) on a ventilator because of Guillan Barre Syndrome (GBS). GBS is a progressive muscle weakness that starts in the hands and feet and slowly works its way up the body until it paralyzes the muscles that allow you to breath. He was carried in, unable to walk or move his arms. Within 12 hours of arrival, we had to put a tube in his throat in order to breathe for him or he would have died. The terrible part of this story is that we actually had to consider NOT intubating him. (Which would have meant certain death). Fortunately, we were told that the family is from another region and has camels that they can sell to pay for the “expensive” life saving treatment. Additionally, the hospital (which I’ve been told is better equipped than most in Kenya) only has 5 working ventilators and can only commit to one long-term ventilated patient at a time. I am glad I did not have to make that terrible decision. We hope and pray that within 2-3 weeks his lungs will be strong enough to support him and allow for a full recovery.

Then there are the ones that don’t survive. In the three weeks I’ve been at Tenwek, I’ve seen nearly one patient die every day. From newborn babies with overwhelming infections to older kids with swollen, damaged hearts from Rheumatic Heart Disease (an easily preventable disease that we never see in the US anymore), we do our best with what we have and give them back to the weeping parents and the God who gave them life. My idols of self-reliance, nearly limitless medical resources, reasonably good communication skills, and the illusion that life isn’t really that fragile are slowly and painfully dying. It is terrible.

It is just like our God to reveal His beauty in the midst of the terrible. Kenya is beautiful. The Kenyan people are wonderful. My team of young Kenyan clinical and medical officers is absolutely amazing. They are bright, hard working, and deeply care about our patients… and they desire to love and serve our God. Just today (Saturday), our family had the privilege of sharing a meal with a more than generous but impoverished Kenyan family with a small farm. (We think they sacrificed their own food for tomorrow just to give us some today…more on that story later.) My wife and kids love me and forgive me even when I sin against them. I know we have amazing family and friends at home praying for us constantly. I have seen children survive when I was convinced they couldn’t. I have sat with a father, after the death of his beloved daughter, as He expressed his unwavering hope that he knew he would see her again. And this is our Hope, that our loving God holds life and death in His hands. All of our days are numbered, and no one breathes their first or last breath without our sovereign Lord’s consent. We may try to convince ourselves it doesn’t, but because of the curse of sin, each day on this earth holds terror. Do not despair, there is coming a day when “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more” (Rev 21:4a). Our Lord is returning to replace the terrible with the beautiful. Let’s lay our idols aside and live every day without fear of the terror it may hold, for the beauty that God is revealing is eternal.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. James 1:17