Although I'm far from the Africa Mercy right now in distance, my heart is still very much there with my friends and ship family. It's been hard this week; the big screening day for the field service was held on Monday. The first patients were admitted last night, and the first surgeries are happening today, even as I type these words. I have a milk-drunk little baby lying in my lap right now, tying me to this place, and that's okay. Really it's more than okay. I'm finding a joy in motherhood that I didn't know was possible.
But that doesn't change the fact that a huge piece of my heart is anchored firmly in the waters off the coast of West Africa, aching to be home in a country I've never even seen. We booked our tickets yesterday, so I know it's not too much longer before I step off a plane into the tropical heat and Zoe gets to experience Africa on the outside for the first time. Until then, until I have my own stories to tell again, I'm going to be relentlessly stalking blogs and Facebook for the latest news.
Here are some entries from the past few days that do a great job of capturing the anticipation and joy of starting a new field service.
Laura is a charge nurse / educator / jill-of-all-trades around the hospital. She was part of the overnight team who went to the screening site on Sunday evening to start working through the lines that had already started to form in advance of Monday's big event. She writes about ten thousand hopes, and I'm right there with her in the dark as I read her words over and over.
Melinda, one of our ward Team Leaders, writes about being His heart and hands.
The Bergmans have found words to describe what hope looks like. I'll admit to crying like a baby when I read this one.
I don't know the Runnels family yet, since they arrived after I left, but I'm looking forward to meeting their dear kids when we're back on board. They posted lots of photos from screening day; click on any of the thumbnails to be taken to a larger version.
Heather is another of our Team Leaders down on the ward, and she describes the opening of the hospital. May God truly move in that place!
For a pretty comprehensive list of Mercy Shippers' blogs, you can check out this page. It automatically updates itself with new entries as they're posted, so check back frequently. It's my lifeline these days.
But that doesn't change the fact that a huge piece of my heart is anchored firmly in the waters off the coast of West Africa, aching to be home in a country I've never even seen. We booked our tickets yesterday, so I know it's not too much longer before I step off a plane into the tropical heat and Zoe gets to experience Africa on the outside for the first time. Until then, until I have my own stories to tell again, I'm going to be relentlessly stalking blogs and Facebook for the latest news.
Here are some entries from the past few days that do a great job of capturing the anticipation and joy of starting a new field service.
Laura is a charge nurse / educator / jill-of-all-trades around the hospital. She was part of the overnight team who went to the screening site on Sunday evening to start working through the lines that had already started to form in advance of Monday's big event. She writes about ten thousand hopes, and I'm right there with her in the dark as I read her words over and over.
Melinda, one of our ward Team Leaders, writes about being His heart and hands.
The Bergmans have found words to describe what hope looks like. I'll admit to crying like a baby when I read this one.
I don't know the Runnels family yet, since they arrived after I left, but I'm looking forward to meeting their dear kids when we're back on board. They posted lots of photos from screening day; click on any of the thumbnails to be taken to a larger version.
Heather is another of our Team Leaders down on the ward, and she describes the opening of the hospital. May God truly move in that place!
For a pretty comprehensive list of Mercy Shippers' blogs, you can check out this page. It automatically updates itself with new entries as they're posted, so check back frequently. It's my lifeline these days.
