Living Water

This afternoon, I sat with a group of Mabaan ladies under a tree at the nutrition village. Amy, another SIM nurse, was leading a Bible study with the people who live at "Ban Keeyin" as their children gain nourishment. I considered the story of the Samaritan woman as our interpreter read from John 4. The Samaritan, like so many of the Mabaan, had lived a difficult life. But when she met Jesus, the Son of God, on her way to draw water, her life was changed. Instead of getting a simple drink that can only temporarily quench thirst, she received living water. Jesus sacrificed His perfect life so that all people can live forever if they accept Him. As I care for patient’s physical health at the clinic, I need to keep foremost the need for spiritual life, for living water.

Mary, the child I held on my lap, was paralyzed with tuberculosis of the spine. Her mother, Sadiah, had been near death last week, but revived with IV fluids and medications. The tall Sudanese woman had been only 32kg, but she has gained 12kg since and is caring for her children again. They need meds to treat TB, but mostly, they need the Lord Jesus. During the Bible study, Mary rubbed my hand. She was looking to see if the white came off.

I watched the ladies’ faces as they listened to the truth of Jesus’ love for them. I thought about Una’s story, and how she recognized God’s saving love for her. Una came to the clinic last week with a severe bite to her hand. Dr Rob evaluated the hand and saw that the infection would kill Una if he didn’t amputate the finger. He only had one hour to perform the operation before his plane arrived to take him to Kenya. Una was given IV antibiotics, placed under sedation, and the surgery ensued. I monitored Una’s oxygen level and administered meds during the procedure. Nurse Amy assisted Dr Rob in removing the necrotic finger. Since the procedure, Una has been living at the clinic so her progress can be monitored. Her hand healed enough to be sutured, and she has been receiving daily dressing changes. We gave pain medications before yesterday’s dressing change, and we chatted while waiting for the analgesic to take effect. Una said, “Before the surgery, I knew that I might die, and I know that God cares for me because the doctor was there. I told God that I would trust Him with my life.”

Yesterday was very busy at the clinic; another nurse and I saw about 60 patients. We were at the clinic for about 12 hours and admitted two very sick children. One was a malnourished 6-mo old infant who only weighs 4 kg; his mother brought him to the clinic because he has always been sickly. It was a difficult day diagnosing the many conditions that the child suffers from. He was badly de-conditioned and had difficulty breathing, so we placed him on oxygen. After evaluating symptoms, we discovered that the infant has meningitis that may have resulted from badly infected eyes. The infection is so severe that his eyes are opaque with ulcers. He also has bowel disease due to receiving contaminated water. I was unable to find IV access, so I placed the feeding tube so he could get fluids. Today, his eye infection is clearing up and he is receiving strong antibiotics. His mother is so sweet; unlike the other long-term patients, she has no one to support her or help her care for the child. The other child is severely malnourished as well, but with fewer complications. I started IV fluids and he is strong enough now to drink a rehydrating formula.

In the midst of a busy day dispersing meds and performing tasks, it was a welcome rest to study God’s Word with the Mabaan ladies. The Samaritan woman, like Una, realized her need for Living Water. I needed the reminder to provide the opportunity for people to receive the Living Water, Spiritual Life in Jesus, rather than mere physical healing. Please pray for the families at the clinic who need the Lord Jesus so desperately. Thank you also for praying for me and the Doro team!

First Day in a New World

Writhing and screaming, the toddler recoiled in fear from the needle that the “khawaja” (white foreigner) held. He couldn’t know that the medication would relieve the pain radiating from the infection in his hand. He was too young to understand what would happen while the anesthetic was in effect. The child’s mother sat beside the procedure bed, her hands knotted in her lap. An interpreter conveyed to her that Dr Rob would make a cut to drain the pus, and I hoped my smile offered some reassurance. As the Ketamine took effect and the boy’s cries subsided, my mind drifted twenty-four hours earlier. Could it be that I had only been here for a day?

One-hundred degree heat enveloped me as I stepped off the plane onto the red dirt of Doro’s airstrip. A group of local people had gathered to witness the arrival of the aircraft; their broad smiles, hand-shakes, and evening greetings helped me feel like I was among old friends. SIM missionaries showed me around the compound that I would call home for the next six months. After an evening meal shared with everyone on the base, I settled into my tukul (hut with mud walls and grass roof) that I shared with another nurse. My first night in Doro was spent mostly awake; the lizards rustling the grass roof, the humidity, and the mosquito net all were new distractions. It was excitement, however, that made every sense electric; the excitement to finally be in Sudan.

May 28 dawned overcast with rumbles of thunder. The plane that had carried me from Nairobi left early that morning, and as I watched it angle South, I felt very small in an alien land. I wanted to get acquainted with the people and customs in this new world as soon as possible. A wise nurse instructed that “to truly know a people, one must speak their language”. Back at the compound, I pulled up a chair to Tabitha, a Mabaan lady who was making lunch, and asked her how to say things in the local language. Our laughter at my pronunciations brought some attention, and a missionary gave me a book on learning Mabaan. I was relieved to have a foundation for learning the language, and a new friend.

I joined my tukul-mate, Amy, for a visit to the nutrition village later in the morning. She had nine malnourished children living there with their mothers, and they remained in the village as long as they required care. Amy’s responsibility was to ensure the health of the children. She oversaw the diets, medications, and daily weights of the children. We communicated with the mothers and children with the aid of Community Health Workers, (Mabaan men who went through health education training). As we were evaluating a mother with twins, one of the kwashiorkor toddlers walked up to us and held up a pitcher for his milk. Doman’s swollen face and large brown eyes gave him the appearance of a Cabbage Patch Doll, and he was adorable.

After lunch on the compound, I was eager to see the clinic where I would be working. I followed the path there with the SIM nurses that ran the clinic: Amy, Sandy, and Christiane. We passed the church, the nutrition village, and groups of tukuls along the way. Pigs, goats, dogs, and chickens wandered as they pleased and grazed in the open spaces between palm plants and wide Baobab trees.

The clinic consisted of a one-room building with a door on each end; the room was divided into five examining areas with one procedure bed, or “Emergency Area”. The room was alive with activity. Community Health Workers (CHWs) were seeing patients in all the stations; the nurses oversaw the CHWs, diagnosed, evaluated treatments and administered medications. Dr Rob examined more critical cases and taught the staff about how to diagnose certain conditions. Meanwhile, a crowd of people rested in the shade of trees as they waited patiently to be called to the clinic. There were over a hundred Mabaan and Falatta people to be seen that day.

I listened, asked questions, and absorbed as much as possible. Observing the assessment and diagnosis process was facilitated by the Mabaan language-learning book and a manual on tropical disease. One family in particular touched my heart. Sahdia was a skeleton curled up in one of the examining stations; she was too weak to lift her head or speak. Her malnourished daughter, Mary, sat listlessly beside her. Sahdia’s sister had journeyed to their village and brought them ten miles to the clinic. Sahdia was ill likely with tuberculosis, so she had seen the village witch doctor, Yaya. Yaya told her patients not to eat, so the emaciated people eventually came to the clinic with complications. Sahdia and her daughter were admitted to the nutrition village as inpatients for care. I reminded myself to check on the pair’s progress in the morning as a commotion from the emergency area drew my attention.

Dr Rob was evaluating the toddler’s hand that had swollen with infection after being poked by a wire. I held the toddler still as he received an antibiotic injection, Tetanus Toxoid, and the Ketamine. The boy drifted to sleep swiftly and Dr Rob, my uncle, made a small incision in the palm. As the doctor explored the wound and drained the infection, he explained how to avoid cutting nerves. I was fascinated by the process, and so thankful that the clinic had a fresh supply of Tetanus prophylaxis, which was not usually available. The procedure was over in a few minutes and the boy awoke soon thereafter. With the child in his mother’s arms, the family was prayed with, and my prayer was that they would know the love of Jesus. The body only lasts for so long, but the spirit is forever.

What a joy nursing is, and how wonderful to care for people with no other opportunity for medicine. But what a tragedy it would be if that’s where the care stopped! The greatest joy of all is a relationship with Jesus, and I left my first day at the clinic determined to keep His saving love as my priority. A physical cure is temporary, but only Jesus saves the soul and gives eternal life.

Pictured is a brother of a child being treated at the nutrition village. After seeing the picture of himself, the little boy laughed and laughed.

Last Night in Nairobi

Ten full days have passed since I arrived in Nairobi. After gearing up and orienting last week, I had the joy of spending the weekend in Kijabi with my Aunt and Uncle's family. Kijabi is located along the Rift Valley, about an hour's drive north of Nairobi. Getting out of the busy city was an incredible blessing. Devotional time in such a peaceful and beautiful environment helped me prepare for the months ahead in Sudan. I also enjoyed learning about a few tropical diseases from Dr Rob, hiking with my cousins, playing Rook, and Aunt Nancy's yummy cooking!

Since returning to Nairobi, I've finished preparing for Doro. Joanna, another member of the Sudan team arrived on Monday, and its been fun rooming with her. We had dinner with Dr Rob tonight and enjoyed our last bowls of ice cream for a few months (as there is no freezer in Doro).

In the morning, we'll be taking the six-hour flight to Loki, then on to Doro, Sudan. I will be living in a tukul, or grass hut, with another nurse. My routine will mostly involve helping at the clinic and learning how to diagnose and treat the various conditions. The clinic has been busy, with two nurses seeing 125 patients on Monday! Dr Rob will be with us for about a week, so it will be helpful to learn as much as possible from him.

PRAYER NEEDS:
1. That I will continually surrender to Jesus so His love can work through me
2. Wisdom in learning Mabaan language and in tropical diseases3. Strength and health for the long hours in the clinic
4. Team unity and protection
5. Cultural sensitivity
6. Those who don't know Jesus would surrender and find the joy of a relationship with Him
7. Keeping Christ my priority and maintaining devotional time

Thank you for your prayers! You have been a blessing to me! If you would like to receive email updates while I'm in the village, please email me at julielidbeck@gmail.com. I will add you to my mailing list. Thanks again!

Karibu Nyumbani!

"Welcome home!" The guard at the gate to the SIM guesthouse greeted me in Kiswahili, his face lit with a broad smile.

I have been walking the short distance from Nakumatt, the "Walmart" of Kenya, to my current place of residence in Nairobi, Kenya. The evening is warm; the air is heavy with the promise of a thunder storm. Although crickets chirp loudly, heavy traffic drowns out the subtler noises of the night. Pot-holed streets are choked with cars, buses, bikes, and foot-traffic and my fellow pedestrians seem fearless of the vehicles weaving three-deep on a two-lane road. Traffic attempts to obey one rule: "Don't hit anything", although this is subjective, it seems. Despite the apparent disorder, drivers are considerate to the tide of pedestrians; I pick my way across the river of vehicles to the side street where I live.

I enjoy observing the flow of humanity around me as I traverse dirt paths that boarder the street. During the past three days on Kenyan soil, I've found the population of Nairobi to be a genteel people. As I walk, I think back to Andrew, a taxi driver that I met yesterday. His story, I believe, is common to those residing in this growing, striving city. Andrew was raised in a village among a cattle-herding people, one of several sons responsible for overseeing the livestock. He smilingly recalls sneaking a dip in the river while his cows grazed on forbidden land; "I was so afraid of getting caught by my father." Working through his boyhood years, Andrew rarely enjoyed the refreshment of a cool swim on sweltering Kenyan afternoons. After completing college courses, Andrew was forced to search for work in distant Nairobi. He now drives for a tour company and has three children. When I asked him how he enjoys his work, he thanked God for employment and demonstrated graciousness. He could be bitter that his college education is not being utilized, or that he is estranged from his home village. Instead, he states, "There are so many beautiful things about driving for safari. When I am out on the Reserve, it is just me, the animals, and quiet."

I have now arrived at the blue gate that separates my living quarters from the bustling life of the city. After a gentle knock, Peter, the guard, greets me at the gate with a warm welcome. I do indeed feel at home! He produces a work-sheet of Kiswahili phrases for me to practice. In the morning when I leave, I will say, "Habari ya asumbuhi. Naenda SIM headquarters, tuonane mbandae!" Which means, "Good morning. I'm going to the SIM headquarters, see you later!" My new friend is a patient teacher; I'm thankful for the practice!

I greet a fellow missionary as we cross paths by the SIM guesthouse entryway. Up three flights of stairs, and now I'm "home" in apartment B3. I review my purchases for the village and anticipate leaving for Sudan next Wednesday. For now, this apartment and the surrounding city blocks are my home. I navigate the streets between the marketplace, the Yaya center, and the SIM headquarters. Nairobi is located just south of the equator and the sun is on a rotating schedule with the 6:30's. The evening is brief, but beautiful. I watch the sunset, framed by swaying palms, acacia, and exotic cactus plants that I am yet unfamiliar with. The roar of the rush-hour traffic gradually succumbs to subtler sounds of the night: an occasional bark, crickets, a baby crying, water pumps creaking.

"Yes." I smile to myself, "God has brought me here. And wherever He wants me, I am home."

Welcome to Nairobi!

I arrived in Kenya just a few days ago, and I feel like a five-year-old in a physics class. Everything is interesting and new; the cultures, so diverse. I wish that I could understand all the subtleties at once, but I suppose that would take the joy out of learning. But I get ahead of myself...

Unfolding myself from the square-foot seat that corresponded with my ticket from Amsterdam, I was eager to stand and stretch after two 9-hr flights. The scenery had been spectacular and diverse: craggy Rocky mountains, broad ice sheet of Hudson Bay, glaciers of Greenland, crimson morning above the Atlantic, Holland's waterways and fields, the stark dunes of the Sahara. My brain was foggy from lack of sleep and the 14-hour time zone differential. There was no problem obtaining a Kenyan visa, picking up my box, or going through customs. Then I stepped out into the pick-up area. People were everywhere holding signs for their corresponding travelers, families embraced with joyful exclamation, taxi drivers solicited service. An hour had passed since leaving the DC-10, and yet I saw nobody holding the SIM sign. Nobody to pick me up. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I suddenly became aware of the humidity.

Walking outside, I searched for the SIM taxi. No taxi. Ok, Julie, time to problem-solve. I had the info about transportation, phone numbers, and address. No cell coverage. Um, I'll get a taxi to the address listed. I tried unsuccessfully to take funds out of an ATM. Exhausted, hot, and feeling like I was alone on Mars, I felt tears starting to overflow.

Pray! The thought brought confidence as I knew that my God would supply all my need (Phil 4:19) and provide wisdom. Suddenly a man came up beside me and offered me his cell phone. I called several of the numbers that had been provided, but all contacts were unavailable. Again, I felt my helplessness acutely. This time, God encouraged me with: "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness," (2 Cor 12:9). Ok, Julie, surrender your need for control. Trust Jesus. I borrowed someone else's cell, no answers. More prayer. I made one last call. An answer!

Business at SIM headquarters had caused the pick-up to be overlooked, but I'm grateful for the lessons learned in that first hour on Kenyan soil. Complete surrender and trust in Christ is the foundation for all that I am to do as a believer and missionary nurse. How wonderful to see how God worked out transportation! Turns out that another missionary was at the airport at the same time, so we shared a ride into Nairobi. The missionary and his wife had spent their entire lives working on an Eritrean translation of the Bible for Wycliffe. They are two-years out from completion! What an amazing testimony to see the joy of a life lived for Jesus Christ!

A warm shower and peaceful sleep revived me, and I have spent the last few days orienting with the wonderful staff at SIM Kenya and Sudan office. I'm now living in the guest house and walk to the local markets for supplies that I will bring to Doro.

Psalm 103 shouts encouragement from the pages of the Bible before me. David writes, "As a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust. Bless the Lord, all His works, in all places of His dominion. Bless the Lord, O my soul!" (vs. 13, 14, 22). This passage reminds me that He loves me and I am in His care. No matter where He leads, this world is not my home; it is the place for me to be surrendered to His will and share His love.

The driver at the airport chuckled when he picked me up. "This is your first time to Africa, yes? Well, welcome to Nairobi!"

Last Day in the States...

... and I'm eagerly anticipating what God has ahead in Sudan! These past few weeks have been crammed with faith-building experiences, and through it all, God has been faithful to provide for my needs! A few weeks ago, I found a party to take over my apartment lease... but the plan fell through on the day I was to move out! So another party stepped up to the plate (or so I thought). A week later, I found out that they never showed up... there is a lot more to this story, but the conclusion is that God provided! I'm confident in Jesus' love and perfect will for my life (Jer 29:11), and amazed at how often I trust myself; "A man's heart plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps," Prov 16:9.

As I try to anticipate what awaits me at the end of a 16-hr flight, my thoughts turn to the Mabaan people of Sudan. The depth of suffering that they have endured is beyond what I can comprehend. Although plagued by war, famine, poverty, and disease, they are characterized by hospitality and warmth. I am humbled and excited to meet these amazing people that Jesus loves and specially created for His glory. I pray that God will give me wisdom as I endeavor to learn some Arabic and Mabaan, care for those with various diseases at the clinic, and share His love in Doro, south Sudan.

Timeline: leaving Seattle tomorrow afternoon, arrive in Nairobi, Kenya at 7pm on Sunday. I have heard that I will have a few weeks of language learning at Malakal in Sudan prior to joining the team at Doro. Thank you so much for your prayers and support; you are as much a part of this as I am! I'm so grateful how Christ extends grace to me on a daily basis, and I yearn to share the joy of the Divine romance with others.

I will have access to my gmail account on occasion when I'm in the village at Doro. My email is: julielidbeck@gmail.com. The mailing address is:
SIM Sudan
Box 79252
00200 City Square
Nairobi, KENYA

God Bless and Thank You!!
Julie Lidbeck