Raw

After sitting on the sidelines here in Kenya, so to speak, for the first term (Sept-Dec), I was eager to have my board exam behind me and looking forward to the chance to be on the team down at the hospital. Just before we left for the US at the end of November, we had a very difficult meeting with several people in leadership at the hospital, wherein I was told that they aren’t going to offer a position to me: surgical, clinical, or educational. Nothing part-time or full-time. And yes, this felt like death. Death of yet another dream for us as a couple on this journey in missions.

It still is raw, and part of why I haven’t blogged about it or written much in our newsletter is that I simply don’t want to bring up the feelings that it created within me, over and over and over. The questions are inevitable, and I’m struggling to find a concise way to answer and stop further questions when people ask me, “How do you like working in Kenya?” and “How are things at the hospital?” and “When do you start?” and “Have you decided whether you and Ryan are extending your time past a year?” I have also found that I am re-dealing with the sorrow of leaving our dream in Vanga, DR Congo. A counselor reassured me that although we have gotten a great deal of debriefing about that and felt emotionally stabilized, when something new comes along that is similar, it can reopen a healing place in our hearts. And that is certainly what I feel like: raw. Tears come easily, and I don’t think it is just the pregnancy.

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I know you may be thinking, but I have so many questions! How can this be? Isn’t she volunteering to work as a physician in a hospital for free? Isn’t the hospital busy? I’ve never heard of this. Aren’t missionary doctors always overworked? Is this just a temporary ‘no?’ Why would they not invite her? What is wrong? Where is the misunderstanding? And I assure you I’ve been asking myself the same questions. When I get really down and allow the Enemy to whisper to me, it is usually, “You aren’t good enough. They didn’t like you. You haven’t been able to stay in one location longer than 14 months so you aren’t showing perseverance or being patient enough. You aren’t a good doctor. You aren’t a good teammate. You didn’t ask enough questions on your visit to Kenya last May and made a mistake.” And I have to fight it. Every. Day.

A rainstorm in the Rift Valley

The truth is, I don’t resent the hospital leadership, or our organization, or those who are working there right now. I am frustrated by a situation that I don’t fully understand. I’m upset that when Ryan is finally thriving in his role on the mission field that I’m not fulfilled. I’m worried our supporters won’t like to hear that I’m not doing medical work here and stop supporting us. And I’m sad to not be a part of a medical team, to not see on a regular basis our friends who also did the post-residency program with us and are now permanently here. But… I don’t think I’m supposed to understand. God was not surprised by this. I can look back at our Ebenezers and clearly see that we were supposed to come here. I’ve prayed and prayed for clarity and this ‘no’ is about as clear as they come. For some reason, I’m not supposed to be working. I’m supposed to be at home with my kids and have the freedom to come and go when need be.

Before I start in with some of the good news, I need to be forthright that January was a low point for me. We had just come back from spending time with family after I finished—and passed—my oral board exam for the final step to becoming board-certified in OB/GYN. So there was a natural post-holiday slump. But we brought the dreaded flu back on our flight home, so about a week after getting back, we were sick, one after the other, for most of the month. I wasn’t working, but I had set up our household so that I could have been working, so I felt like I was simply not needed around the house. Then I was cooped up with one kid sick and the other stir-crazy, then I was dog-tired and pregnant with my own flu, and then the other kid was sick and the former one stir-crazy. Needless to say, it was a tough start. Ryan was very busy with a full class load and coaching basketball—and thriving.

Ryan enjoying his roles as basketball coach and math teacher

Continuing to teach at home

When we were on the upswing of sickness, but I was feeling quite depressed by the situation, we were contacted by Samaritan’s Purse to see if I could go and fill an urgent need back in Togo where we just left in June. Ryan encouraged me to pursue it. I looked at the calendar and considered what activities were going on at the school and what I’d already committed to as far as volunteering for things like nursery duty and hosting students. I decided that even though the need was for the entire month of February, I thought, I could only commit until Feb 14. I sent an email, not realizing that the Togo team had already sent me a message saying that my end date should be…. you guessed it, February 14. It was a confirmation to me that the Lord was behind this. “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’” Isaiah 30:21 NIV

Less than a week after booking tickets, Sydney and I were landing in Togo. It was a bit of déjà-vu. We had also booked our tickets less than a week in advance when we moved from Congo to Togo last time. As we left the baggage claims, went through customs, and exited the airport in Togo, the first person that I saw was an airport employee who sort of ran up to me saying, “Oh Doctor, you are back! I need to come see you.” To me, this was like getting a big hug from God Himself as I was dealing with self-doubt. There were lots of happy reunions over the next few days. The maternity was significantly less busy than when I had left, a purposeful scaling back of services due to the shortage of doctors. I had heard that the numbers of deliveries were down to about 20/month. Even so, the moment I walked into the labor room I was able to assist in a delivery. Another hug from God.

Part of the maternity team in Togo

I’m trying to settle into a new expectation for this season. I have a group of students I meet with on Sunday mornings, I am starting to see formal and informal consults for students and other staff who want help with medical issues, and I am working on editing a medical book meant for health workers in developing countries. In the near future, I’m hoping to help out with menstrual issues and eating disorders at student health. I’ve even just recently been chosen to help with a resolution by this year’s Model United Nations regarding menstrual health hygiene. Of course, I help out with preschool and run around with my kids. It’s a beautiful climate to live in, and there are lots of things to be thankful for. But, for now, the issue of our future and work in the hospital is raw. God knows and I feel His love in the midst.