Eight months ago now, I stood on the airstrip very excited to have landed yet not knowing exactly what to expect. With Laura Lee, my friend of a grand eleven days, and Allen, who spoke as many words in English as I did in Tok Pidgin (not many at all), we carried our backpacks over the mountain five miles to a busy clinic that was waiting for us. That first day ended in tears, yet with peace, knowing that the Lord had clearly brought me here, if not to serve, then for me to learn. Since then, hearing two new languages simultaneously is not as overwhelming, crossing single log bridges is only slightly terrifying depending on how big or wide the river is beneath, shaking everyone's hand in market and recognizing many friends is a joy, and we have hiked to the same airstrip several times for supplies - and this month to welcome three new nurses.
Standing again on the airstrip this month saying goodbye to one of our nurses, Emma, also brought tears for many reasons - because she was leaving and in remembrance at all the Lord has done and taught us here in the last year. This place will change you. What was once all new has become familiar, all the faces that I could not remember their names have become friends; we have shared meals, sang together, slid in the mud together, and cried together. Some memories are hard, some still make us laugh even if we tell the stories over and over. The bush has been an active classroom - every day presenting new challenges, welcoming new classmates, graduating others, and sometimes learning is intense, and class does not begin or end when a bell rings but continues as part of life.
Lessons this month have included suturing tendons and reading Tuberculosis slides with Ellie; Sarah becoming proficient in prenatal checks; Chelsea returning to doing well-baby vaccines, orienting Kyle to the property and solar power; and adding Danya and Lauren to the clinic as they are learning language and culture. We have been teaching several new moms about nutrition and caring for their babies or struggling twins, teaching others about taking care of their burns, casting bones, dressing tropical ulcers, learning ourselves how to cook pitpit (a veggie currently in season), and learning about additional treatments for Malaria in pregnancy, learning about God's love and how the body of Christ works as a family in 1 John with the girls, and learning new songs in choir. We have learned more than once this month to run to Christ in our grief as we lost two pediatric patients in the same week. Scripture and song have come to be such gentle teachers, and the Holy Spirit has been our Comforter on the days when we have felt very alone in our jungle classroom.
A particular joy has been the fellowship with girls and youth doing schoolwork. Several girls have been coming to work on homework once or twice a week. As much as I wanted to help them do fractions, they have been a blessing to my soul in their friendship when my heart has been heavy. They may never know, but those multiplication and division word problems where a gift of grace when otherwise I just wanted the pain of grief to go away. Even when I have been exhausted at the end of the day, the teen's excitement to learn always makes me thankful that I went to English club. I will certainly miss the afternoons of making hot tea and trying to explain decimals and percentages in Tok Pidgin. It is heartbreaking to see them struggle without textbooks, without dictionaries, or without teachers, but in that I have been vividly reminded of the question - what are we teaching those coming behind us?
Am I teaching others to trust in their health? In their money? In their knowledge or position in life? Or am I teaching them to lean on Christ and seek Him? Is my example teaching others to acknowledge Him in all things? One lesson of the bush has been learning to see God's hand. Many times when I'm in my comfort zone and familiar environment, I can explain things away, or I think I can make things happen, and I can come up with a good reason why they happened the way they did, or even worse I could take credit for what God has done. Yet, honestly, I cannot explain all that God is doing. I cannot know the reasons for why things have happened. I do not know why two toddlers died. I do not always understand how God is magnifying His own name among the nations when I see so much darkness and pain. Yet God continues to change hearts of stone to hearts of flesh and redeem them from their sin. He displays His power, not always in ways I expect, but that His name may be glorified.
Therefore, let us "teach them diligently" {Deut. 6:5-9; 11:18-21}; teach those around us of God's mighty works, that they might hope in Him {Ps 78:4-7}. Tell them what He has done so that we may not forget His hand. Tell them His Word that we all may learn to walk in righteousness, for "that will be your wisdom and your understanding in the sight of the peoples… for what great nation is there that has a god so near to us as the LORD our God is to us, whenever we call upon Him... Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children's children {Deuteronomy 4:6-9}." No parent wants anything more than for things to "go well" for their child, and herein we have the instructions for success: "walk in the way that the Lord has commanded;” have "such a heart to fear the LORD;” and "do what is good in the sight of the Lord" {Deut. 5:29,31}.
This pressure cooker of a schoolhouse has taught me many things, mostly that I have more to learn. In that there is great comfort that my Father is the Good Shepherd and desires all things to mold us to be more like His Son. He did not set His love on us because we were the strongest or the best, but because we are weak and little that He may work all things for His glory {Deuteronomy 7:6-9}. May it be so.