"You Have Memories"

Ever used Facebook's "On This Day?" At the click of a "You Have Memories" button, you can see everything you ever did on Facebook on that particular day of every year since you joined the web site. It's genius on the part of Facebook. What better way to feed our tendency toward self-absorption and keep us posting and reposting so as to ensure the popularity of their site and attract sponsors and advertisers? And Facebook makes it easy by telling you that "You Have Memories" every day, so you don't forget to look at them. 

It can also be an eye opener. I have looked at mine a number of times and had varying responses ranging from face palms to groans to pleasant trips down memory lane to timely reminders of lessons learned. Sometimes I look at things I posted waaaaay back when Facebook was relatively new and I can't believe I thought anyone would EVER be interested in that. Ever. 

"writing letters today"

"doing homework"

One nice thing about On This Day is that I can delete that garbage. No one wanted to read it once, let alone a second time. I did not join facebook to punish my friends.

Other times I look at posts and see things I wish I didn't: negativity, criticism, anger. I try to evaluate whether I am still the same person who wrote that post and do I still have the same attitude. If not, I thank God. If so, I ask Him to keep working on me and change my heart. 

Sometimes I see posts from people who encouraged me just when I needed it and I am reminded how loved I am and that maybe I should take a moment to let them know I love them too. Or I see posts that remind me of something significant that happened and how God showed Himself in it. That happened today when I saw that "On This Day" four years ago, Emily used my facebook to post a prayer request. I posted our family's little adventure here: Daniel's Bottle Bucket Battle a few days later. It's a story about a night that could have been much, much worse than it was, but turned in to a testimony of God's care for a little boy and his family, and His power to orchestrate even Kinshasa traffic to His will. 

Facebook makes it easy and tempting to live in the past rather than embracing the present and anticipating the future. But it can also remind us that the God who was with us in all those past events is the same God who is with us now and will be with us as we face the future!

My 2016 Prayer For My Kids and Mitendi

Normally, if I step just outside the front of our apartment, this is my view. I can clearly see the flowers in my yard, the road that runs in front and to the side, and the building across the way. It is the nicest view we have ever had from our windows since we came here and it is a real blessing. 

Biting flies and mosquitoes that carry diseases like malaria, chikungunya, and yellow fever are abundant here and because of that, periodically steps have to be taken to reduce the risk. This week a company came in to spray for the flies and mosquitoes. 

During the spraying, we stayed indoors. This was my view out the front window (apologies for the screen).

Wherever the man in the "hazmat suit" walked with his smoker, a thick wall of fog/smoke was left in his wake. Soon we couldn't really see anything until the smoke had time to clear. The fog was a temporary obstacle, blocking our ability to see what was right in front of us. If we had tried to walk through it, we wouldn't have known which way we were supposed to go and might have even gotten hurt.

As 2016 began, God impressed on me to pray two scriptures for my kids this year, as well as for myself and my husband. 

"Remove the obstacles out of the way of my people." Isaiah 57:14b

"I am the LORD your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go." Isaiah 48:17

Lord, please remove any obstacles that stand between my kids and their relationships with You, and/or their relationships with others. And when they can't determine which way to go or see the reality is beyond the haze of their present circumstances, I pray You will direct them and teach them and that they will learn to trust your direction and hear your voice clearly. 

I would ask if God has directed you to this post, please pray these verses for your missionaries.

But why stop there? I am still very burdened for the Mitendi Center and the legal and spiritual battles they are fighting to keep their land and continue this vital ministry. Please pray for Mitendi Women's Center and those who are involved in the leadership, administration, and legal representation. Pray that God will direct them and that in 2016 He will remove ALL the obstacles out of the way of HIS people. 

Fever Tree

A few days ago, David brought this stick home. It had travelled to Kinshasa via MAF plane from an interior village and was accidentally left at the hangar. The passenger who misplaced it is a friend and he had called David and asked him to look for the stick. He had brought it from the village for someone else and they really wanted it.

It's really not much to look at. Why would they want that stick so badly? Why would a stick be so important (unless you are a dog)?

Cinchona pubescens (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This isn't an ordinary stick. It was cut from a "fever tree," also called "cinchona," "quina," and "Jesuit bark." The bark of this tree contains quinine, and is chewed or steeped into a tea to treat malaria. I have sampled a tiny, tiny piece of fever tree bark. It was very bitter and the taste lingered for a long time after I spit it out, even though I didn't even chew it. It amazes me that anyone ever even discovered that something that nasty could cure malaria, since that would require tasting it more than once. Quinine is also used to treat malaria worldwide in other forms, like pills. That ugly piece of tree branch has the potential to save lives.

Malaria is a serious threat in DRC. It is one of the leading causes of death here. Over 400 children die in Congo every day, and nearly half of these deaths are caused by malaria (World Health Organization). Please pray for those who are working on better preventions like vaccines, for those who work in the health care sector, and for the people of DRC. 

Just a Small Thing

Medical thermometer (Photo credit: RambergMediaImages)

A while back I found a small growth on my tongue. When it didn’t go away on its own I was advised to have it removed and if possible, sent to pathology. 

It was a small thing and if we had been in the U.S. any general practice physician could have taken care of it right in the office. Getting it removed here turned out to be a bigger deal than we anticipated.

We first went to a new clinic in town that is run by a Canadian company and has a good reputation. The doctor there would not even see me. Without having even looked at my little hitchhiker, he insisted I needed a specialist called a stomatologist and told me I could find one at a place called CMK. 

We were not sure how to even find CMK and really wanted to go someplace we had at least heard something positive about, so we decided to call a Belgian physician we knew. He had seen David before and diagnosed his gall stones last year. He told me not to bother making an appointment because he could not remove it and recommended I find a stomatologist. 

At this point we were asking each other “what the heck is a stomatologist?”

Not knowing what else to do, we called CMK to get directions and headed back down town. The end result was I got the care I needed and did NOT need a stomatologist to get it done. When I saw the doctor there, he said he could remove it. When he realized I was nervous about having something cut out of my mouth he said: "It is a small thing."

I noted some similarities and some differences between taking care of something like this here versus the United States.

Similarities:
1. We had to wait a long time. It was one of those set ups where you “take a number” and wait for someone to yell out your number. We arrived before 8:30 am and they were already on number 29 with standing room only in the waiting area. We therefore stood a lot. After your number is called you go to the desk and give them your name, and go back to find that while you were at the desk someone stole your seat, if you had one. Then you wait until your number is called again and you go to a different desk and pre-pay for your exam. Cash only. Then you wait again until they call your number and you go to a little room and get your vital signs taken. Then you go back to the lobby and wait some more until they finally call your number to see the doctor. We finally got out of there about three hours later and still had to go next door to the lab for blood work and then on to the pharmacy.

2. Doctors wear white coats. 

3. You have to be proactive about your own health (though this is perhaps more true here).

That’s about it.

Differences:
1. The concept of germs and sterility. When the nurses called me in to take my vital signs, they pulled out a digital thermometer and stuck it in my arm pit while they took my blood pressure. Before the thermometer beeped they removed it, recorded the temperature, and placed it right back in its case. Without cleaning it with anything. I could not help but think about the fact that before I got my temperature taken, thirty-five or forty people had also gotten their temperature taken that day. The doctor who did my procedure washed and put gloves on but when he told the nurses to tie his mask on they didn’t know how to do it and he had to instruct them. They got it on really crooked, which was a nice distraction for me while he was approaching my tongue with a sharp cutting tool.

2. Equipment and resources. The doctor did not have the option of a big bright light on an extendable swinging arm attached to the wall or the ceiling. He had an old floor lamp with a nice hot 40 watt bulb which he kept having to ask the nurses to move around until he could see into my mouth. I know the bulb was hot because it was almost touching my eye lids.

3. Lab work. The pathology lab is not on site. You have to take your specimen to the lab yourself. It is in another part of town and we had no clue how to find it so for an extra fee we could have someone take it to the lab for us. We have been told that it is not uncommon for things to get lost in the system. 

4. Payment. Even in the states you have to arrange payment up front, but here you have to pay for everything up front in cash. No money = no doctor.

5. Patient privacy. This has happened at every clinic we have been to, not just CMK. While the nurses were taking my vital signs and asking me questions the doctor was examining someone else in the same room with just a little folding screen between us. 

Daniel's Bottle Bucket Battle

   Raising children in a developing nation is risky, albeit adventurous.  I knew that before we came, but it isn't something one tends to think about until an event occurs which gives you a startling reminder.  Saturday evening, Daniel dropped a bottle of Coke and it shattered.  Several shards nicked his feet and legs, but one larger piece of glass bounced off the floor and cut his leg pretty deeply.  We could see his bone.  Our first thought was to call a missionary we know who is a nurse, only to discover she had gone to the interior and couldn't be reached.  We had no choice but to take him to a clinic here and hope for the best. Traffic was terrible.  Sometimes when we are driving here I am reminded of a Discovery Toys Rush Hour game my kids used to have with a bunch of cars and trucks, all facing different directions, touching one another and unable to move.  Add loud honking, dozens of pedestrians weaving in and out the best they can, a complete lack of street lights, people shouting, and exhaust fumes and that's what it looked like Saturday evening.  Daniel was bleeding a lot and I had him in the back seat with his leg propped up while I held the wound shut,  and while we were stuck in traffic, his leg just spontaneously stopped bleeding and didn't bleed again until he was safe in the clinic being examined. (We didn't know it yet, but thanks to Emily and Facebook, lots and lots of friends were already praying for Daniel and God was answering!) Finally a hole just big enough to turn our jeep around opened up and we retraced our steps and went "the back way" to the clinic.  There was a nurse outside the clinic who took one look at David carrying Daniel with his bloody legs and feet and took charge, opening doors and escorting us past triage and reception, straight to the exam room.  By the time I walked up to the reception desk to let them know Daniel was there and give them our names and address, he had been seen by the doctor, had his wound cleaned, and was waiting for stitches.  While they were very careful to use sterile instruments and keep the wound clean, there were definite points of observation that reminded us we weren't in the U.S.
     * the language barrier - They kept asking us questions in Lingala, then switching to French, and in our stress we had some difficulty thinking in French.
     * the insects on the walls
     * the stack of grotesquely filthy leg and arm braces in the corner, presumably waiting to be reused
     * no bright red bio-hazard box - the needles they used to give Lidocaine to Daniel were new and sterile, but once used they just went into the garbage bag with all the other bloody gauze and trash
     * the mercurochrome - they used lots of it on all of Daniel's smaller cuts, even on his old bug bites.  He has big pink spots all over his legs, front and back.  They were so generous with it I started to wonder if we were getting charged by the ounce (that's a joke, folks).  Though I remember mercurachrome from my childhood, I'm pretty sure it is not used in the U.S. any more because it actually contains mercury.  Nice.
     * I had 8 stitches in each incision when I had my foot surgery.  Daniels wound was about the same width, possibly wider, and he got four.  We got some steri-strips from a friend to "close the gaps."
     * no follow up instructions regarding things like when he can bathe, how long to leave the stitches in, etc.  We know we have to keep it clean and dry.  We have plenty of missionary friends here who are in the medical field so we'll rely on them for help and guidance.

     While God was showing Himself to us; getting us through traffic, getting rapid treatment for Daniel, and keeping him from losing too much blood, keeping him amazingly calm, He also showed Himself to Emily that night.  As we were leaving the house for the clinic, I asked Emily to get on the internet and tell our friends to pray because Daniel was bleeding a lot and I knew traffic would be bad and I didn't know what type of care we would get at the clinic.   As soon as they heard, a couple on our team, the Freys, dropped everything and came to be with Emily.  Instead of finding an anxious daughter when we arrived home, we found Emily, Jocelyn, and Nick watching a movie together.  The glass, soda and blood were all cleaned up.  They had brought their supper with them and fed Emily and even had a cupcake waiting for Daniel.  I am so grateful that in this challenging place God has given us friends whose value can't be measured.  We had other friends who were praying for us, helping us with medical advice, giving us antibiotics from their own supplies because the pharmacies were closed, even offering to come get us and take us to the clinic.

    As we were preparing to leave the clinic, Daniel said "well now I can mark that off my bucket list."  We asked him if he seriously had getting hurt and receiving medical treatment in a third world clinic on his bucket list and he said "yes, I did."  What kind of ten year old has a bucket list?  And what kind of ten year old has THAT on his list?  When I asked Daniel's big brother those questions his reply was "a cool one!"  I tend to agree with both Josh and with another friend who said we need to talk to Daniel about working on a safer bucket list.