Hearing God

Do I hear God speak?  Not audibly, but I know that He does and there are times that he speaks in such clear ways that it feels that the heavens open up for just a moment to give us a peek of all we have waiting for us.  I experienced that today.

To properly do justice to this, I must back up a few months. While we were in Texas for our training for Mercy Ships I was on a walk and felt God tell me that I was about to enter into a journey of growth in my prayer life.  I did not see a neon sign or hear a loud voice from Heaven.  I just felt it.  I had no idea what that meant but I was excited to learn more.  Since that time I have been trying to better understand what it means to communicate with God and take the time to truly listen to Him.  I have been learning a lot and there are many things to share but that will be for another time.

 

This blog is about one specific message he gave me.

Rewind again to a couple weeks ago.  I finished reading a book called Kisses fromKatie by Katie Davis (here's her blog).  Whoa.  It’s a book written by a woman who has given her entire life to Africa (see why I like it J ). She gave up everything she had and moved alone to a village in Uganda.  The book is amazing, inspirational, challenging, tragic, joyful. . .and a million other emotions.  I LOVED every page.  But what hit me most about the book was the way that Katie seeks God’s direction in everything she does.  She asks and she waits for him to respond and lead.  I was convicted while reading this book that so often I go about my life and hope that God will meet me where I am.  I hope I’m doing the best thing but don’t often enough truly wait for him to speak to me.  I’m often too busy to listen to what he has to say. 

So after reading the book I decided that I would really try to be more intentional about shutting up and letting God speak to me.  It’s not easy to hear God’s voice when we have a million other voices competing for our attention (not to mention a 2 year old and 11 month old).  But over a few weeks I saw God open my heart to some amazing things and “heard” him more clearly and in new ways (another blog post).  But then a couple weeks ago I felt like I heard God tell me it was time to wean Cora.  What?  I was certain that couldn’t be God. Why would he ask me to do that?  I thought for sure it was my selfish desires getting in the way of hearing him.  I wanted my body back, I wanted to sleep through the night, I wanted my hormones to not be out of whack anymore, I wanted to stop feeling hungry all the time. Surely this couldn’t be God.  So I wrestled with it for several weeks.  Then last week I had a trusted friend come and pray with me about this. I didn’t want to take such a huge step unless I was SURE it was from God.  After spending some time together in prayer I really felt again like this was what  I was supposed to do. 

 

 I knew I may never know why but he was asking it of me so I was going to obey.

Later that day I was given a gift.  Sometimes we obey and don’t know the “whys” and sometimes God opens the heavens to give us a glimpse of himself.  The same day I agreed to wean Cora I felt like God told me that there was a baby who needed my milk.  Seriously?  I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.  Our ship has partnered with a ministry here called Babies Without Milk. It is a ministry that provides formula for babies who’s mothers have died and would otherwise have no source of milk.  I called Estel, the director of the ministry, and told her my story.  Her response was. . .”we have your baby”.  Just a few days before a 2 week old baby had been brought to her who’s mother died in childbirth.  He hasn’t been able to tolerate formula.  I could barely finish the conversation with her as I was overcome with emotion and gratitude for God for showing me so clearly that he had indeed spoken to me.

So starting that day I began to wean Cora and continue pumping and saving my milk for this baby.  Cora hasn’t missed a beat (another answer to prayer)!  Today Estel brought little 3 week Alseny to the ship to retrieve the 64oz of milk I have pumped for him since last week.  He is allergic to cow’s milk but that is all they’ve had for the last couple days so he has a rash all over his body and has been vomiting.  He was starving when he got here and I hadn’t pumped.  It seemed silly to defrost some of the milk I’d frozen or go pump so I just sat down and nursed that little blessing from God right in the dining room of the ship.  Words cannot even begin to express the amazing feeling of joy and thankfulness I felt as I saw God’s goodness, faithfulness and love in that precious moment.   

 

Sometimes he speaks in such clear ways that it feels that the heavens open up for just a moment to give us a peek of all we have waiting for us.

We can hear God’s voice. It’s not always easy, it’s not always clear, it’s not always as straight forward as this, but he is there waiting to speak to us and invite us into some pretty amazing blessings.  I hope and pray that I will never forget how it felt today to have such beautiful confirmation of his words to my heart.

 

Alseny

With Estel. Cora says "Here's the baby sharing my milk".

He didn't think this was weird at all.

Happy after his feed.

John got to meet him too.

 

24 hour prayer vigil

Tomorrow morning at 8am our time (2am Colorado time) we are starting a prayer vigil for some of our patients. I would love to invite you to pray along with us! I was going to write more about it but found that my friend Ali wrote it so beautifully that I will just share her link.

http://alirae.net/blog/archives/679-twenty-four-hours-to-pray.html

Thank you for your prayers!

Yaya

Wanted to share this great story written by our friend Joanne about one of the little boys that spent many weeks on the ship. The girls got to play with him several times and his smile and joy were infectious. It was really miraculous to see his progress.

Written by Joanne Thibault

Edited by Nancy Predaina

Photos by Debra Bell and Michelle Murrey

Rather than joyous celebration, the reaction to Yaya’s birth was broken family ties. Yaya’s mother, Salematou, and his father, Abdulaye, were not married when their son was born. The tradition that Salematou’s father lived by did not make room for a child born out of wedlock. Despite Salematou’s pleading with her father to allow her to keep her child, his decision was final. As soon as Yaya could leave his mother’s breast, he was sent to live with Kadiatou, his grandmother on his father’s side.

Living with his grandmother turned out to be a wonderful blessing for Yaya. Kadiatou personifies the bottomless heart and limitless space that African grandmothers offer their children and their children’s children. She assumes whatever responsibility comes her way, no matter the burden. Kadiatou explains, “There are many mouths that I feed in my family. In addition to Yaya, five of my children and their nine children need my support too. Everyone shares in the work of the household, but earning income in Conakry is very difficult. My husband now, Mamadouba, is very old. He gives what money he can, but he has family to support too.”

Yaya stole his grandmother’s heart from day one. His ready smile and eagerness to be close to her formed a thick bond. When tragedy struck Yaya, Kadiatou was distraught. “Yaya started walking when he was one year old, but after taking a few steps he would fall. We tried many traditional medicines, but his condition grew worse. At eighteen months, his legs started to twist and curl up. They failed him entirely.”

Yaya’s uncle, also named Yaya, remembers this as a time of many trials for his mother. “Kadiatou was so afraid for Yaya. He often had a high fever, and his legs would cramp up terribly. He would cry for hours from the pain. Kadiatou tried everything to soothe him. She held him for hours. Then my father and sister died very close together. My mother’s heart was broken into so many pieces.”

Kadiatou, who had taken in her daughter’s five children, decided that moving the family to Conakry, the capital of Guinea, was best for Yaya. “I hoped that the medical care Yaya needed was in a big city. As well, I knew that Conakry had schools for handicapped children that Yaya could attend.” Another important reason for the move was that Kadiatou was protecting Yaya from the villagers who thought that children with disabilities were cursed. She would not stand for her grandson being tormented, ridiculed, or forced into hiding.

When Yaya reached five years of age, he started attending the school for handicapped children. “I was so happy for Yaya. He started to learn his letters and bring home things he made,” Kadiatou says. Although there were no school fees and transportation was provided, Kadiatou still had expenses to cover, like school supplies. She made ends meet by going to the Grand Mosque daily and helping with cleaning and cooking. After a full year of being a volunteer, she was finally included in the group that received a weekly stipend, plus donations of money and food from appreciative people attending the Mosque.

Yaya often joined Kadiatou at the Mosque after school, and he soon became a favorite with everyone. In the Muslim faith, people are eager to help the needy as a way of observing sadaqah, the duty to overcome miserliness. Many Muslims wanted Yaya to join the group of handicapped people who begged, so that people could give to him. Kadiatou was against Yaya’s doing this, regardless of the enormous struggle she had to support the family. “I faced so much pressure to allow Yaya, in such obvious need, to help people fulfill their duty to sadaqah. I finally relented,” she explains.

Kadiatou continued to be distressed with Yaya’s participating in sadaqah. She prayed that Yaya would get his education and find an occupation where he could use his sharp mind and very able hands. Kadiatou had many doubts about her prayer being answered, but she remained faithful, clutching that thin bit of hope to her heart.

Yaya himself dared not hope. But then an incredible set of circumstances unfolded around him. Nick Veltjens, who worked with orthopedic patients, saw Yaya at the patient screening location the day before consultations began. “I waited all screening day for Yaya to come because I thought we could help him. We didn’t see him that day, so I sent an email around asking if anyone knew where he was.”

According to Yaya, “I did go to the screening with my friend, but I lost my courage.” Yaya left without being examined.

The next day, Dan Bergman, a long-term hospital volunteer, came to Nick with a video of a possible orthopedic patient that he had just seen outside the Mercy Ships Dental Clinic. According to Nick, “What a coincidence that Dan found the same little guy that I was looking for!”

For Dan, this series of events said loud and clear that, “God wanted Yaya to find Mercy Ships. He kept putting him in front of us!” Dan tracked Yaya down at the Mosque and delivered the news that he had an appointment at the hospital ship.

But Yaya missed his appointment. As he says, “I did not believe I could be healed, and so I did not want to tell my grandmother to bring me. She would be too disappointed.” But another divine coincidence occurred that finally put Yaya and Mercy Ships together. A government official, Cellou, who had befriended Yaya at the Mosque, was at the Mercy Ships Dental Clinic that same week. He casually asked what a young boy with deformed legs needed to do to get an appointment. It was quickly realized that the boy in question was Yaya and that he just needed someone to bring him to his appointment.

Cellou immediately went to Yaya’s grandmother with the news about Yaya’s appointment. They agreed that Cellou would go to the hospital ship with the boy. When Kadiatou received the telephone call from Cellou telling her that Yaya was accepted for surgery, she experienced a mixture of emotions. “I was so grateful that Yaya could be helped. It was all that I had prayed for. But I was also very uncertain and afraid. I wondered how it would be possible to fix Yaya’s legs and what he would go through.”

Dr. Frank Haydon, volunteer orthopedic surgeon, was able to fix Yaya’s legs. According to Dr. Frank, “The condition that Yaya was born with caused his bones to be very brittle. As he started to walk, the pressure on the bones caused multiple fractures. The surgery he had aligned his leg bones properly, and the two rods I installed will give his legs the needed strength and structure so he can walk.”

Each day Yaya does grow stronger. He is starting to take his own steps with the help of a walker, and he has progressed to simple below-the-knee leg casts. But at the same time, each day wears on Kadiatou. She shows the strain of being away from family and being indebted to more and more neighbors. She has borrowed money from them for food and malaria medication. However, regardless of the hardship, Kadiatou’s commitment to see Yaya through his healing journey is unwavering. “I would endure anything so Yaya can do what he longs to do more than anything else – play football. By suffering for Yaya and my family now, I know that there will be great happiness in the future,” she says.

According to his uncle, Yaya’s journey to hope and healing is summed up in a few words: “Yaya is so loved by everyone on Mercy Ships.” And, still, even with so many kind hearts embracing Yaya, there is one who continues to occupy the most special place in his heart. As clear as a bell, Yaya declares, “I love my Grandmother so much! She has done everything for me.”