Rosie's Ramblings - Newsletter March 2005
Dear All,
We have a sailing date to leave for Liberia! After four challenging and rewarding months in Benin, it looks like the generators and engines will be ready in time to sail at 2pm GMT on Monday. In the last few weeks there have been some very frustrating moments when it has seemed like nothing worked at all, but now things are looking up and I'm immensely looking forward to heading to Liberia. We should arrive in the port of Monrovia midmorning on Friday 11th. Thank you all for your prayers, God is faithful.
I'm a bit unsure what to tell you all about the month of February. Seeing the completion of the projects in Benin has been very exciting. I've attached the final outreach report to this email so that you can have the "official" account of what we've been doing Benin. I know that I have been a very small cog in a very large machine, but it's great to look back on what's been achieved whilst we've been here. I never cease to be impressed by the amazing people I get to live and work with every day. Currently it's official ship holiday for 4 days before we head to Liberia, but I thought I'd give you a taste of a typical day on outreach.
On a Thursday morning my alarm clock goes off at 6.30am so that I have time to prepare for the day and have a leisurely breakfast. In practice, I get up at 7.27am, pull on the nearest clothes and grab a bread roll from the dining room whilst avoiding eye contact with the other 350 bleary eyed Anastasis crew who are rushing to get something to eat before the food is put away at 7.30. Back in the safety of my cabin I make myself presentable ready to start work at 8am. In the operating theatres all is hustle and bustle whilst everyone arrives and starts to get set up for the first cases. But before the first patient arrives, Ans Rozema, the theatre supervisor calls us together to pray for God's protection over all the people we will see that day, and that the work would glorify God. Then it's back to work - Thursday is cleaning day and so the first task I'll start is to wash down the walls, ceilings, floors and surfaces with bleach solution - all good clean fun! Then the clean anaesthesia supplies from yesterday need to be put away, and meanwhile I will undoubtedly forget that we used up the last packet of sterile towels yesterday, so it will only be a matter of time before one of the nurses arrives in a panic looking for a sterile towel - oops! Mid-morning before the first cases end there is often a lull - a good chance to watch 15 minutes of surgery if there's something interesting going on. If Lord Ian McColl, professor of surgery at Guys Hospital is onboard he'll be sure to give me a tutorial in some aspect of whatever it is he happens to be doing: the embryology of a thyroglossal cyst, or the anatomy of the facial nerve.
After the first cases finish I see one of my favourite things - the patients being wheeled down the corridor from theatres to recovery past the door to the sterilising room. Perhaps one of the highlights of this outreach for me was seeing a mother's expression as the recovery room nurse gently pulled back the blanket from her child's face to reveal a perfect cleft lip repair. The mother knew that her child would no longer have to face the rejection that stems from being different in a culture which believes that illness or deformity is a judgement from angry spirits. I clean up the mess from the surgery - washing the instruments, dealing with the contaminated waste, rinsing out the laundry, cleaning the bloody saliva off the anaesthesia equipment. It's not particularly pleasant, but remembering what I'm a part of makes it hugely rewarding. Lunch-time arrives and I take my food outside onto the deck and sit down with my close friends who work all over the ship - we share what's been going on in theatres, the laboratory, the ward, the IT department, the school. There is a great feeling of "we're all in it together" - everyone wants to know what's happening to the patients on the ward whose surgery is made possible because the computers are running and the ship kids are kept occupied.
The afternoon surgeries continue until about 5.30pm - we come back after a quick supper and sterilise what is needed for the next day - the rest can be left until the morning. From 6 until 7.30 I teach some of the ship kids piano lessons; it's fun to see their enthusiasm as they learn and I feel like I'm doing something positive for the community. Then at 7.30pm it's time for the weekly community meeting - administrative announcements, a time for prayer, songs to praise God and encourage each other, and a sermon by a visiting speaker. Last night it was a communion service. I looked around and thought how exciting it is that I am "one body" with these people from all over the world. I was thought about the verses from Isaiah 53: "We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all". I don't know what I was expecting to find when I came to Africa - I think I might have subconsciously thought that "missionaries" would somehow be holier than everyone else. It's not true. On the ship you can gossip, argue, hurt people or get hurt, just like anywhere else, because we have all gone astray. But I know that the price for all of us is paid by Jesus and it's great to be together as a community where we can celebrate that fact. After community meeting we relocate to the Mediterranean lounge to eat chocolate, play cards, dissect the sermon, and chat late into the night! To bed when someone's common sense gets the better of them.
Everyone on the ship really values your prayers - it's great to think of all the people all over the world who are praying for us. Here are a few things that I know would be great to pray about.
- praise God for all that he has done whilst we've been here in Benin, for the lives that have been changed
- praise God that the generator parts arrived and that we have air-conditioning back, and continue to pray for the technical and engineering crew as they make the ship ready to sail.
- pray for me that I would eagerly seek to know God better and that I would be able to find time and space to be alone with him especially during the opportunity presented before outreach starts in Liberia
- pray for the advance team (Dave, Eric, Alex, Marie and Veronique) in Liberia as they make final arrangements for the ship's arrival and that we would be able to have a happy reunion with them next Friday
It's wonderful to hear news from home - I gather England has been very cold and snowy which seems strange when here it is 35 degrees and 85% humidity. I am aiming to reply to as many emails as I possibly can before we arrive in Liberia! My thoughts are often with you all!
With love and prayers,
Rosie/Rosalind (I think I might have to stop this schizophrenic email-signing...)... Read more!
We have a sailing date to leave for Liberia! After four challenging and rewarding months in Benin, it looks like the generators and engines will be ready in time to sail at 2pm GMT on Monday. In the last few weeks there have been some very frustrating moments when it has seemed like nothing worked at all, but now things are looking up and I'm immensely looking forward to heading to Liberia. We should arrive in the port of Monrovia midmorning on Friday 11th. Thank you all for your prayers, God is faithful.
I'm a bit unsure what to tell you all about the month of February. Seeing the completion of the projects in Benin has been very exciting. I've attached the final outreach report to this email so that you can have the "official" account of what we've been doing Benin. I know that I have been a very small cog in a very large machine, but it's great to look back on what's been achieved whilst we've been here. I never cease to be impressed by the amazing people I get to live and work with every day. Currently it's official ship holiday for 4 days before we head to Liberia, but I thought I'd give you a taste of a typical day on outreach.
On a Thursday morning my alarm clock goes off at 6.30am so that I have time to prepare for the day and have a leisurely breakfast. In practice, I get up at 7.27am, pull on the nearest clothes and grab a bread roll from the dining room whilst avoiding eye contact with the other 350 bleary eyed Anastasis crew who are rushing to get something to eat before the food is put away at 7.30. Back in the safety of my cabin I make myself presentable ready to start work at 8am. In the operating theatres all is hustle and bustle whilst everyone arrives and starts to get set up for the first cases. But before the first patient arrives, Ans Rozema, the theatre supervisor calls us together to pray for God's protection over all the people we will see that day, and that the work would glorify God. Then it's back to work - Thursday is cleaning day and so the first task I'll start is to wash down the walls, ceilings, floors and surfaces with bleach solution - all good clean fun! Then the clean anaesthesia supplies from yesterday need to be put away, and meanwhile I will undoubtedly forget that we used up the last packet of sterile towels yesterday, so it will only be a matter of time before one of the nurses arrives in a panic looking for a sterile towel - oops! Mid-morning before the first cases end there is often a lull - a good chance to watch 15 minutes of surgery if there's something interesting going on. If Lord Ian McColl, professor of surgery at Guys Hospital is onboard he'll be sure to give me a tutorial in some aspect of whatever it is he happens to be doing: the embryology of a thyroglossal cyst, or the anatomy of the facial nerve.
After the first cases finish I see one of my favourite things - the patients being wheeled down the corridor from theatres to recovery past the door to the sterilising room. Perhaps one of the highlights of this outreach for me was seeing a mother's expression as the recovery room nurse gently pulled back the blanket from her child's face to reveal a perfect cleft lip repair. The mother knew that her child would no longer have to face the rejection that stems from being different in a culture which believes that illness or deformity is a judgement from angry spirits. I clean up the mess from the surgery - washing the instruments, dealing with the contaminated waste, rinsing out the laundry, cleaning the bloody saliva off the anaesthesia equipment. It's not particularly pleasant, but remembering what I'm a part of makes it hugely rewarding. Lunch-time arrives and I take my food outside onto the deck and sit down with my close friends who work all over the ship - we share what's been going on in theatres, the laboratory, the ward, the IT department, the school. There is a great feeling of "we're all in it together" - everyone wants to know what's happening to the patients on the ward whose surgery is made possible because the computers are running and the ship kids are kept occupied.
The afternoon surgeries continue until about 5.30pm - we come back after a quick supper and sterilise what is needed for the next day - the rest can be left until the morning. From 6 until 7.30 I teach some of the ship kids piano lessons; it's fun to see their enthusiasm as they learn and I feel like I'm doing something positive for the community. Then at 7.30pm it's time for the weekly community meeting - administrative announcements, a time for prayer, songs to praise God and encourage each other, and a sermon by a visiting speaker. Last night it was a communion service. I looked around and thought how exciting it is that I am "one body" with these people from all over the world. I was thought about the verses from Isaiah 53: "We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all". I don't know what I was expecting to find when I came to Africa - I think I might have subconsciously thought that "missionaries" would somehow be holier than everyone else. It's not true. On the ship you can gossip, argue, hurt people or get hurt, just like anywhere else, because we have all gone astray. But I know that the price for all of us is paid by Jesus and it's great to be together as a community where we can celebrate that fact. After community meeting we relocate to the Mediterranean lounge to eat chocolate, play cards, dissect the sermon, and chat late into the night! To bed when someone's common sense gets the better of them.
Everyone on the ship really values your prayers - it's great to think of all the people all over the world who are praying for us. Here are a few things that I know would be great to pray about.
- praise God for all that he has done whilst we've been here in Benin, for the lives that have been changed
- praise God that the generator parts arrived and that we have air-conditioning back, and continue to pray for the technical and engineering crew as they make the ship ready to sail.
- pray for me that I would eagerly seek to know God better and that I would be able to find time and space to be alone with him especially during the opportunity presented before outreach starts in Liberia
- pray for the advance team (Dave, Eric, Alex, Marie and Veronique) in Liberia as they make final arrangements for the ship's arrival and that we would be able to have a happy reunion with them next Friday
It's wonderful to hear news from home - I gather England has been very cold and snowy which seems strange when here it is 35 degrees and 85% humidity. I am aiming to reply to as many emails as I possibly can before we arrive in Liberia! My thoughts are often with you all!
With love and prayers,
Rosie/Rosalind (I think I might have to stop this schizophrenic email-signing...)... Read more!
posted by Rosie @ 12:27 AM
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