Going Home

A few weeks ago, I said that I was 'going back home' to the United States where I  was able to spend a delightful and restful 3 weeks with my family. But then, I said I was 'going back home' to Togo and that's also true- the place where I'm living with my Togo family and my work. For me, the hardest part of missionary life is the fact that I will always be missing something. 'Going back home' means goodbye to something else. The parts of life that matter to me most, which used to be nearly exclusively contained to Northwest Indiana, are spread out over thousands of miles. 

While I am in Togo, I miss doing whatever ridiculous tricks are necessary to illicit my niece's nose-crinkly, four-toothed smile. And gathering with my family to watch our favorite TV show but being the only one still awake 20 minutes later. And learning the latest family joke that's incessantly repeated but never overdone. And simply being present with and for my people in everyday moments.  

Whilst in America, I miss the daily challenges, emotional roller-coaster experiences, and fulfillment of my dream job(s). And weekly lunches with kids squirming on my lap. And doing life with my teammates: the Togolese and Americans, the old and new, the young and old, who have changed my life. 

I started trying to compare the feeling to a Harry Potter horcrux... that my heart is being split into multiple pieces/places. But it's not that because if you're nerdy enough to know what I'm talking about, that implies that I'm less than whole. But it isn't perfect either because, even while I can be fully content in both places, I am always missing something. What I hope for is that this points me towards thinking of heaven. I hope the longing I feel leads me to realize that, while life is incredible, this is all temporary. I'm not home yet. But once there, I won't be missing anything. 

P.S. (actual missions update) Heading back into Year 2 in full force! Pray for the influx of short-term volunteers and their training, the course I am teaching at the nursing school in August, the upcoming malaria season, shifts in leadership, ongoing Bible studies, and the wisdom and strength to do it all that only God provides! 

Moments: Episode 8

The last time I wrote a Moments post was three and a half years ago. I had been in Togo for around 2 months, and everything seemed new and different and unfamiliar, but God was faithful, and there were a lot of people who supported and encouraged me. My mantra at the time was it's nothing I can't do, it's just something I've never done before.

Now, even more seems new and different and unfamiliar, God is still faithful, and there are so many people who support and encourage me. I am more established at the hospital and am an elected member of the hospital management committee. Different responsibilities pile up like continuing nursing education, implementing policies, making the nursing schedule, helping coordinate short term nurses, and being oddly involved in a lot of biomed/technology stuff on top of working in the hospital and teaching in the nursing school. This presents new challenges and the now familiar feelings of grateful, humble, inadequacy on a nearly daily basis. My mantra stays the same.

I like posting about little moments that attempt to give a glimpse into life in Mango. A lot of these Moments stand out to me because they don't fit into one category. Maybe it's not just sad, but it's hopeful too; not just funny, but also poignant. Sometimes, cultural differences hit me like a slap in the face. But in everything, there are moments of seeing God's faithfulness and goodness in a broken world. 

-There was a little boy in the hospital who was incredibly malnourished. He would just lie in bed all day and had multiple wounds. Keeping him clean was really difficult, and he was so weak. One day, I sat on his bed, blew up a glove into a balloon, and drew a face on it. I handed it to him, and I saw him smile for the first time. He died later that week. 

-A man with a bad leg fracture requiring 7 weeks of traction came to know Christ in the hospital through interactions with our chaplains and watching the Jesus film and other media. While teaching the nursing school on getting a subjective patient history, we sent some of our students to talk to different patients and ask them questions. The students who talked to this young man were struck by his joy despite his tough situation and noted how he had put his faith in Jesus. 

- I was assigned to one of my cancer patients nearly every shift. Her nursing care was very involved and took a lot of time. I spent a lot of time in her room with her family and grew to love them- especially her adorable baby sister who would toddle into my arms. One day, I was finishing up all of my tasks and started to walk away, but my patient reached up and grabbed me by the pocket so that I couldn't leave. Her mama thought it was hilarious, but I was so glad that I had a little time to sit on her bed and spend a little more time with her. 

-A different cancer patient told me how much she liked school and how sad she was that she'd be missing school for her chemo treatments. Her sweet dad told me that she was going to study and grow up to be a nurse- just like me. Both of these girls have passed away. 

-A patient came in completely comatose with very unstable vital signs. Without the ability to get a CT scan or MRI, we have very limited ability to know a real diagnosis or prognosis. An hour or two later, the patient started moving his right side, but was completely flaccid on the left. A while later, I was with some of my students and we talked about the possibility of a stroke vs. other diagnoses. As we were in the room, the patient moved his left leg for the first time and then his left arm. Then he tried to sit up. It felt like we were witnessing a miracle. 

-I co-taught the physical assessment course at the nursing school. We introduced the different techniques at the beginning to introduce them to the concepts. To have them practice, we started percussing (tapping on the body in different places as part of the assessment) on their schoolbooks. We then moved to practicing on other students. We walked around correcting technique, but I had to stifle laughter as I witnessed one student intently, rapidly, repeatedly, and forcefully percussing the abdomen of his poor fellow student who probably had no idea that he would be experiencing that particular woodpecker effect when he walked into class that day. 

-I talked to one of my Togolese colleagues about some hard topics (leadership positions don't always garner friends y'all...).  At the end of a tough, but open and honest conversation, I thanked him and concluded by saying that I hoped he knew how much I cared about all of the nurses. He smiled and said, "yes, we know that very well." 

-I say something to one my patients in their tribal language, and he started giggling and clapping. 

-A patient comes in after an accident that resulted in his foot being cut off. He's prepping to go to surgery, and I see his family bringing him what looks like a sack of food. I motion for him to stop because the patient can't eat before going to surgery. He hands me the bag, and I realize it is not, in fact, food, but I am holding in my hands the severed foot. 

-Remember my twin that I posted about in 2019? She's almost 3 and loves to sing. Remember my coloring party cancer friends from 2020? They're both doing really well and still come to their appointments together. 

My twin H

Another healthy appointment!

-We spent a week of nursing school in January practicing dressing changes on Mr. Cucumber and Mrs. Papaya (pictured below)

Thanks for reading and for praying. I really appreciate when I get messages from people back home who are faithfully praying. 

Finally, if you are a healthcare worker, we are anticipating a shortage of both medical providers and nurses this year. Let me know if you are interested in learning more about serving in Togo. I gotta say, it may be hot, but it's a pretty great place to be. 

In Him,

Caroline

Because the Lord heard...

What makes a good story? 

The Hook: A dead, premature baby was rushed into the hospital but was miraculously brought back to life.

The Context:  Despite a grim outlook, she not only survived, but seemed to thrive. Her mother was mentally unable to care for her and, in a situation that is rare in Togo, she had no family that was able to care for her. Read the beginning of Baby Leah's story here:  https://lettucetomatoandmayo.blogspot.com/2021/10/and-when-lord-saw.html. 

The Challenge: Help Baby Leah grow, stay healthy, and find a family.

The Conflict: After copious prayer and a leap of faith, an amazing Christian family from Lomé agreed to start the adoption process. The adoptive mother came to meet with government officials and take Leah home, but the meeting did not go well, and she was sent back home without Leah. Missionary families fostered Leah with abundant, selfless love, but we all prayed that she would soon join her forever family. 

The Resolution: On December 8th, the judge approved the adoption of Leah, and she was sent home with her legal, loving family and multiple bags filled with diapers, formula, and clothes. Tipping the scales at just over 8 pounds (4 times her birth weight!), she doesn't yet understand the weight of what God has done through her. 

Adoption day <3

I hope that someday Leah gets to hear her story. How hard we worked to save her life. How far she came from that first night when she fit in the top of my tunic. How we decided what we would call her. How an entire town somehow knew her story and cared. How complete strangers would ask me how the little baby was doing and if she had found a family. How despite the possible social stigma of having a mentally ill mother, multiple Togolese families were willing to step up and adopt her if things didn't work out with the family from Lomé.  How she went on a goodbye tour on the day before her adoption to be hugged and kissed and adored by all of people who had grown to love her. How much she was prayed for. How through the testimony of her adoptive family, other Christians were more willing to step out in faith and how her story may continue to have an impact in the life of another baby who needs a home. How her adoption portrays the heart of the Gospel and how God has adopted us as His sons and daughters. How her story renewed hope in me during a really hard season and how that continues to influence my attitudes in the hospital. And finally, how we've seen God at work. He cares for orphans and provided Leah with not just a family, but an entire community that loves her. And that's just an amazing story. 

She (Leah) said, "Because the Lord heard that I am not loved, He gave me this one too".  

Genesis 29:33. 

Fit to Burst

Currently, life is like my favorite tunic- which is currently with my seamstress being repaired- again. Every couple of months, I have to take it back because another seam has ripped. This time, I split a seam in the armpit while playing ping pong. Last time, it was the slit at the bottom that tore while getting on my moto. Before that, it was my pocket seam from the weight of all my supplies while working at the hospital. Life in Togo is not for the fragile of cloth nor for the fragile of heart. God's placed me where I'm being used often, in different directions, and to the point of bursting at each seam. 

My time, energy, and brain power are all split in between teaching 19 enthusiastic nursing students, working at the hospital, scheduling the nurses and nursing aides, grading piles of tests and papers, tracking cancer patients, coordinating and recruiting short-term nurses, repairing or replacing hospital equipment, doing my own homework, preparing Bible studies and ukulele lessons, leading youth group, and spending time with my friends, and man, I love it all. 

Honestly, there have been times in recent weeks when I feel like I'm about to bust a seam. I've felt overwhelmed and exhausted and frustrated and like I just can't. And I'm right- I can't. I can fill my calendar down to the hour with lots of meaningful things, but it's all meaningless unless I remember Who it's all for. As I overestimate the number of hours in the day, I aspire to be Wonder Woman, say yes to everyone and everything, and do it all well without breaking a sweat (ha. haha. hahahahahahaha. I live in Togo...). But I'm not. Below are some lyrics to a song that I've been listening to a lot recently. 

Oh, to be empty and lowly
Meek and unnoticed and unknown
And to God, a vessel Holy
Filled with Christ, and Christ alone

How great is God?
His grandeur endless
How frail I come before His throne
I am lost in love relentless
That Christ be all, and I his own

May Christ be all, and I be nothing
His glory shines in the vessels weak
May Christ be all, and I be nothing
This is my hope
Not I, but Christ in me

-May Christ Be All by Grace Worship

These lyrics have helped remind me that I am here simply to serve Jesus- though I bring so little to the table. Whether that's in Togo or wherever else He leads. Whether it's by accomplishing lots of tasks that seem important or by washing the dishes. Whether I'm frazzled or bored (I can't seem to find a happy medium). Whether I spend time among others or spend time alone with Him, may Christ be all, and I be nothing.

First week of nursing clinicals

Still cancer free!

Prayer requests:

-Please pray for short nurses who can come out from February-April. We are anticipating a critical shortage and desperately need volunteer nurses

-Please pray that the busyness and pace of the hospital doesn't get in the way of sharing the Gospel with our patients and their families

-Please pray for the nursing faculty as we make decisions this week for the upcoming trimester

- Please pray that my team can spread the hope of the Word of God despite language and cultural barriers

Praises:

-After having to jump several hurdles, we believe that Baby Leah will get to join her forever family next week! 

-God has answered specific prayers by providing short termers who have filled critical staffing gaps

-Two of my cancer patients are still cancer free and are doing well!

Thank you all.

Because they haven't heard,

-C

And when the Lord saw...

    In my last post I shared about a day where we saw four children die. Earlier this week, 6 people passed away in a single shift. It is impossible not to be affected by this brokenness- and this manifests itself in a myriad of conflicting, constantly changing ways. My faith solidifies while my heart aches while my hope wavers while my comradery deepens while cynicism creeps in while I'm being emptied out while I'm filled only by Him. 

But in the midst of all this mess, the Lord allowed us to witness a miracle. 

    The door slammed and a woman rushed into the hospital carrying a bundle of African cloth. We rushed her to the ER area. I unfolded the cloth and saw a freshly born, cold, lifeless, premature baby. We started CPR, but in the darkest part of my heart, I was cynical. We see this too often with too many poor results. I thought it was pointless and wondered why we should even try. 

    After a little while, we got a heart rate back and she started breathing. With a lot of trepidation, we moved her into my ward. She was alive for the moment, but would it last? With an obviously traumatic birth, what brain damage had been done? At the end of the day, I just could not get her to warm up, and our incubator wasn't working well. No one was there with her, so with much awkward maneuvering of breathing tubes, IV lines, and monitor cables, I lifted the 3 pound baby and put her in the top of my tunic to try skin to skin care. We sat there for a while as I finished my charting. 

     The next day she was still there. And she had purposeful movements.

     The next day she was still there and her oxygen needs were decreasing. We did skin to skin care again as there was still nobody with her at the bedside. 

     The next day, I found out that the woman who had given birth to her was unable to care for her, and she was essentially an orphan. 

     The next day, I was at her bedside with the doctor who had revived her (who also happens to be my roommate), and we talked about how she was a miracle. She was estimated to be around 32 weeks gestation, and had come to us lifeless. This baby had been dead dead, but she was now opening her eyes, moving around, tolerating formula, and weaning off oxygen with no apparent brain damage. We prayed for her together, and my roomie suggested that we give her a name. Off the top of my head, I suggested Leah. It's one of my favorite names. My roommate said, "Yes. Because the Lord saw the Leah of Scripture even when she was unloved, and He cared for her."  

Leah around 5 days old

    The name stuck. And Leah kept doing well. Team members came during their free time to hold her and feed her. As the hospital employees learned about her situation, they started to call her Leah as well. Slowly, she got off oxygen and took feeds on her own. Over time, she started to amass a collection of baby clothes and hats...She even has a pair of tights- which are incredibly impractical but ridiculously cute.

I can't even with the tights...

    

    Fast forward to now. Leah is about 38 weeks and weighs just about 5 pounds. She is the queen of the hospital and boy, does she know it. Her crib sits at the nurses station where she is doted on by nearly every hospital employee. She now believes this is her right, and is incredibly spoiled. Sometimes she disappears for hours on end as the maternity nurses steal her for a couple of hours. It's a common occurrence for someone to chart with one hand and feed her a bottle with the other. An employee bathes her almost every night, and I truly believe she is the most photographed baby in Togo. 

     Here's my favorite part. The Togolese government gave my roommate permission to search for people who would be willing to adopt Leah. A couple weeks ago, a man from a Christian family came to meet Leah and talk to government officials about adoption. I got to be there as he met his future daughter. At the moment, he was a little afraid to hold her because she was so small, but he asked if we could pray for her. Together, we prayed for Leah and thanked the Lord for her life and for the blessing that she has been. Please pray for Leah's adoption process and the potential hurdles that must be jumped before she can go home. 

     I am profoundly thankful for the possibility that Leah will grow up in a Christian family that will love her. I am profoundly thankful for the joy that she has brought me and everyone in the hospital over the last several weeks. I am profoundly grateful that she came along to humble me and teach me a lesson about not losing hope- because God can perform miracles. 

My miracle

Not by our strength

 Disclaimer: I'm writing this post with a heavy heart. It's not a fun read. 

"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains" -C.S. Lewis

It's 7:57am and my coworker is giving a baby breaths. The room is strewn with materials from the code cart. I walk in and take a turn so she can see her other patients. She tells me that the doctor already explained to the family that we've done everything possible, but he wasn't breathing on his own. We're going to continue breaths until 8:05, but then we're going to stop. For 8 minutes I pray. It's 8:05, but I keep giving one more breath, one more breath... Stopping hurts. 

It's 8:30 and I hear the rattle of the code cart. It's a different child, but the same scenario. Malaria season is rampant and leaves so many young children vulnerable to high fevers, severe anemia, hypoglycemia, and seizures. For half an hour, we try everything. Everyone knows what to do because we do it almost every day, but it's not enough. I look up through teary eyes after a round of compressions and see the faces of the family. I've seen that look over a hundred times, but it continues to pierce my heart nonetheless. We stop, but I can't stop because I have 8 other patients who need me.

It's just after 9:30 and another baby won't breathe. We take turns giving breaths and giving care to our other patients. We knew his chances of survival were low, but we try. The doctor comes in and calls it. Three deep, shaky breaths and a prayer in the utility room. Back to work. 

It's 11:15. The fourth one. Lord, please give us strength. We get her sugar up and a heart rate back, so we keep giving breaths. Nurses, aides, and parents all take turns. We pray and hope. 3 hours later her heart finally stops. I think of the moms who loved those babies. 

It's the same afternoon and I sit in the room as my friend hears the news that her cancer is back, and this time it's in her lungs. I remember a year ago when she finished treatment and we did 'the final chemo dance' together. Now we're starting chemo all over again.  

It's the end of the shift. Our hearts and our feet ache, but we can come back tomorrow and do it again because there is Someone who came to heal the brokenhearted. Because of that Someone, grief and joy can exist in the same place. We can go home and smile and joke and play a game because it's not our own strength that sustains us. There are four empty beds, but we've been promised a day when there is no more death and no more infants who only live a couple days. We wait and trust and carry on in that hope. 

In Their Words

After over a year of praying....

After the submission of 917 applications....

After 46 initial interviews...

After testing and exams, a month long rotation of hospital departments, and 33 follow-up interviews...

20 students were selected and have started the 2021-2024 nursing program. They are eager, earnest, and excited... but they also feel the weight of being one of the chosen. As part of their application process, the students wrote a reflection on significant events in their life. One of my tasks this week was to translate them into English. I'm going to stop my own rambling now and let just a few words from their testimonies speak for themselves. 

"I went to primary school 8km away from my village. None of the other children from my village went to school because it seemed to be too far away.....It was a matter of saving my energy to be able to walk this distance at 8am and 5pm every day to get back and forth from school. The test to graduate from primary school was a cross for me to bear. This is because the center was in a town and my parents didn’t know anyone in the town for me to stay with. I spent two nights at the center before seeing the examiner to explain my situation. He found me a place to stay for my test in secure conditions. In middle school, I was always late and received lashes for being late or absent. In 2017, a tragic event happened. A tribal war was started in the village, and our house was burned. We left the village with empty hands and only our hope. It is because of these difficult conditions that my parents did not allow me to continue my university studies even though I had a proven love and an intellectual capacity to continue."

"I am a man born into an animist family. One day, I met Christ through the showing of a movie by an evangelistic group. It was there that I made my conversion. After this, my animist parents refused to give up their sacrifices in order to follow Christ, but one day, God touched the hearts of my brothers and my mothers, and they are also converts to Christ. "

"My father died in 2000, the year of my birth. When I was five years old, my mother enrolled me in primary school with funds from her business and her work in the fields. It was with her business and work in the fields that we struggled through until I graduated from secondary school."

"I was born to an animist and polygamist family. I was living a life that I believed was the best one, yet I was wrong. It was when there was a convention in my home village where the message of the gospel was preached. The speaker said that “a person who has not yet received Christ is dead. They do not live.” He added that all men are sinners and have fallen short of the glory of God, and the wages of sin is death. Therefore, Jesus came and died on the cross for my sins. For we are not able to escape this death ourselves and we have to believe in Jesus as our personal Lord and Savior. And so I gave my life to Christ. I went to school in 2005 at the age of 6. I received my BAC 1 in 2017 and my BAC 2 in 2019. Wanting to continue my studies at the University of Lome, I had to go live with my brother who lived there with his family who was all Muslim. One day, he called me and said that even though I was a Christian, he would not prevent me from following my Jesus. I thanked him and praised God. Despite living in a Muslim family, that did not put any obstacles in my Christian life. I am and I will stay a Christian in the name of Jesus."

"From my adolescence, I had noticed an inequality of options and supplies in my social circle. Although I was passionate about my studies, I was often confronted with difficulties in obtaining materials due to the lack of financial means. I had a desire to become a doctor one day which led me to study science. After taking my BAC2, I had to continue on another career path instead of medicine. My passion to be a doctor was because of two reasons. First, I wanted to actively participate and maintain the health of my population- especially children. Secondly, I wanted to help pregnant women through their pregnancy. I had even passed the exam to receive doctor training, but unfortunately, I was not selected for the program. From that point on, I decided to look at other studies and training opportunities."

"I am the youngest child. My parents already had three boys and four girls, so I am the eighth in my family. I started my schooling in the same village when I was five years old, and everyone appreciated me from the start because I showed excellence in my schooling..... (Years later,) My dear father left us, and everything changed. My excellence clearly fell. But despite everything, I passed my BAC2. At this point, I realized that the disappearance of a father can change the future of his child. After my BAC, I wanted to study medicine in Burkina Faso, but what could an orphan do to obtain such a large sum of money to study medicine? "

"All throughout school, I worked in the fields during my vacations to pay the school fees every year because my father already had 2 wives and 13 children. Little by little, I kept making money and enrolled at the University of Lome and studied physics. Supporting myself in Lome was a problem, and I just had to do my work day by day in order to get by. To rent a room that I could afford, I lived 20km from the campus. I always rode my bike"

".....While I was at university, something happened to my mother which cost her her life when she was giving birth. It was a great misfortune in my life that forced me to leave university for a year to recover and have the strength to continue. A few months later, I restarted negotiations with my father with the support of the elders of my village to convince him to let me marry my girlfriend. In 2018, I won the acceptance of my father for my relationship, and I was married to my wife. She had replaced a part of my life that my mother had taken. After 2 years together, she is now a mother to a young boy who made me a father.  Thus, it was not always easy, but I managed little by little to get my education that has made me stronger today."

"I thank God that he sent certain people who voluntarily helped me grow in my knowledge of the word of God. Thanks to their support and prayers, I finally discovered my gift to use for the glory of my God. My prayer is that God helps me to continue to serve Him and to speak about Him to others who haven’t had the chance to know Him. God created us in His image and has permitted me to know Him. It is my turn to talk about Him to others because Jesus commanded His disciples to go and make disciples of other nations."

Testimonies have been edited for length

This is the shortest amount of time it has ever taken me to write a blog, but that's the benefit of plagiarizing 😜. I've known them for about a week, and I can't help but love them already. There's a group chat for the students on Whatsapp, and the other night there was a barrage of motivational texts and memes coming in saying things like, "It's going to be hard, it's going to take time, it's going to demand sacrifices, but it will all be worth it." And as cheesy as that might be, they're not wrong. 

Please continue to pray for the students as they start anatomy and physiology class next week. Please pray for me and the other faculty members as we have the chance to invest deeply in the lives of these students. Please pray for the Hospital of Hope and the opportunities we have to be the hands and feet of Christ to Mango and the surrounding area. 

Because they haven't heard,
Caroline