My time in Togo is wrapping up. The chapter of my life that was supposed to last only 8 months turned into a 6-year saga. I kept getting pulled back in- and it definitely was not due to the pleasant weather, the ease of living, or the lucrative salary... When I finished my first commitment in 2019, I didn't feel any peace about leaving, so I ended up back here 3 months later. While praying about what I should do at the end of this 3-year commitment, I knew either choice of committing as a career missionary or settling back into life in the States would be hard. But this time, I feel peace in leaving. Not to say that leaving in August won't rip my heart out, but I hope I've done my work well and have served faithfully for the time God wanted me here.
If I were to ever write a book about my years in Togo, I could fill the pages with the things I saw. I could counterbalance the heartbreak with the joy and the miracles, I would have pages and pages of stories telling how my coworkers and teammates poured their hearts and their souls into the lives of their patients juxtaposed with the injustices of caring for people in a low-resource setting. And how despite the hard times, I loved it.
In a recent week at the hospital, I emptied 4 liters of pus out of a man's lung, watched a 3-year-old girl waste away and become comatose from malnutrition, watched a mother refuse to hold her dying baby as the baby's brain stopped telling her lungs to breathe, felt the cracking of an old man's ribs as I did CPR, and oversaw the beginning of leukemia induction chemo treatment. Because of how we are able to share God's love to our patients in the midst of tragic circumstances, I've loved it.
We've built our own infant incubators from scratch and jerry-rigged CPAP machines. We've come through tribal uprisings, intense government restrictions, lack of running water, power outages, and medication/blood shortages. In a male-dominated, Muslim majority, African culture that values elders/seniority and doesn't always value timeliness, I have functioned as a young, single, Christian, caucasian, type-A female. And I love it.
During my time in Togo, I taught 9 nursing courses, got a doctorate degree, taught 3 cohorts of nursing aides, led a 7-person ukulele band, organized youth group and Bible studies, and developed protocols all while killing cockroaches, sweating through every item of clothing I own, driving my motorcycle in the pouring rain, speaking a foreign language, and wearing a full-length skirt. And I loved it.
I met so many people. My teammates turned into family as we lived in a community of flawed people trying to serve Jesus. With the constant comings and goings of short-term volunteers, I have dear friends spread all over the world. Over the years, I developed rapport amongst my Togolese coworkers and am honored to serve alongside them. My patients often have so little, but they are grateful and patient and kind. And I love them.
I've loved this chapter. Some of the best chapter endings leave you wistful and wanting more, and I am sure that I'll visit Togo frequently in the future. My next chapter isn't all planned out, and that's ok. If I've learned anything from this chapter of my life, it is that I can trust that God is good and uses all things for His glory.
Thank you all for your support, prayers ,and encouragement during this chapter. Please continue praying as I start the next one in the upcoming months.
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Multi-trauma scenario for the nursing school  |
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| 💗💗💗 |
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| Mango-made incubator |
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| The new maternity ward expansion |
In Him,
C
