Hello from the ocean blue! Having spent a few weeks in Durban, South Africa whilst our Ship got fixed up and ready for the season ahead, we're finally on our way. In fact last night I sat outside to eat my dinner and spotted not just a whale nearby but LAND! We could quite clearly see the south eastern coastline of Madagascar and a sense of, 'it's really happening' dawned on me and I realised once again the privilege to live on this floating home.
The last few weeks have not been without their trouble and even after we set sail, we had more hitches that held us up a few days before we could finally say that we're on our way. The unexpected few extra weeks in South Africa have been a good time to reflect and team build, not to mention see some of beautiful South Africa. I even found some snow, and yes, I did have a little sledge down a slope! I'm certain God is not the author of 'bad things' but I do see how he uses delays and things like this - we've been on our knees and the time has forced us to fix our eyes on Him... and to remember where our hope comes from.
As we look to the time ahead in Madagascar, I've been thinking about all the opportunities that lie ahead. God is infinitely creative and always has fresh ideas. It's an exciting life with Him, isn't it?
Have you thought lately about what ideas.... what seeds you are planting into the future generation? Your friends? Your family? Your own life? Are you planting seeds of life? Ones that will keep on bearing fruit?
It's a joy to work for an organization who lives and breathes the things that make my heart beat. To work with like minded people who care about the same things I care about and who get mad about the same things I get mad about. It's refreshing. It enables me to myself somehow. It gives me courage to stretch and reach for the Jesus dreams that have been planted inside me. And what a privilege it is to stand on the shoulders of those who have walked before me and who have dared to believe.
How can we do the same? How do we face such never-ending need? Such devastating poverty? How do we know which seeds we should plant? And where? There are opportunities everywhere! These are questions I find myself asking - as Hospital Director on the AFM - and as Kirstie Randall living in Community here. How do we do it? How do we not run dry? How do we not grow weary doing good?
In Isaiah 55:8 it says that God's thoughts are not our thoughts. And His ways are not our ways.
Jesus wasn't driven by need and opportunity.
Jesus only did what the Father told him to do.
Good ideas only last until a better idea comes along. Good ideas inherently lack capacity to withstand pressure.
God ideas have resurrection life and can never die.
Are the seeds that you are planting releasing their potential? Do you need to do some pruning? Get rid of some bad ideas? Even some good ones? Good ideas compete with God ideas.
It's my prayer for me - for my team - for us as an organization - as we embrace a new Field Service and all the decisions ahead. I pray that we would strip ourselves from selfish ambition, from pride, from anything that would tangle our hearts and minds from discerning what the will of the Father is.
So that we may walk with a freedom and a heart that is committed not to good ideas that jump at every opportunity and need in front of us, but to the God ideas that He breathes into us.
I'm looking forward to all that lies ahead - whether it's a couple of thousand surgeries or stories of transformation people experience when they take part in one of the many medical training courses we will be running,... or in the new Obstetric Fistula Centre we are setting up or in the new Ponseti Clinic (Clubfoot treatment). Whether it's stories of transformation of buildings as we renovate the Operating Rooms in the local University Hospital, or of people's hearts and attitudes - including my own - it all thrills me, because it's what we're all about. It's what Jesus is all about. Redemption. New hope, new life. Love it.
Grace, peace and all wisdom to you as you sift through the dreams in your heart and find the ones Jesus has planted right there. Run after them!
Much love as always, KWW
Sunday, 6 September 2015
Monday, 25 May 2015
rich and beautiful
7 months in Madagascar. Rich and Beautiful. That’s what it
has been.
It’s been a topsy turvy few months and if I could pick out a
few things that I’ve tried to learn along the journey, this is what they would
be…
Live in Heaven – you have access to EVERYTHING you need
Be Un-offendable – you can afford it
Dream big – NOTHING is impossible
Yours to carry – not mine (burdens)
Don’t listen to monsters
It’s Jesus I serve – no-one else
I could expand… but… I don’t know if I need to. It all comes
down to love… to having an understanding who I am a daughter of… to knowing the
life of freedom that I am called to… to living as someone who knows they are
LOVED. I haven’t figured it out yet but I am thankful for all the ways He has
allowed me to love – the opportunities to express my Father’s heart. It’s been
a tough few months – but I am thankful for the journey that it has brought me
on and for the rich and beautiful places it has taken me.
The repaired cleft lip smile, the sweet giggles of those
whose obstetric fistulas are now closed, the running feet of those once bent,
the waving arms of the ones that were once crippled by terrible burns, all
those who have been empowered with knowledge, with love, with the tools to do
what they were made to do… the pure joy of the market seller whose smile
broadens when my eyes meet hers, to those who have so much to share, whose
hearts are so rich and beautiful beyond compare, to those who know what it is
to hope, to trust, to love even when they have so little in terms of ‘stuff’… to
the endless sea of lush green rice fields, to the mountain peaks and rainforest
galore, to the jumping lemurs and to the sweet sweet tastes of your plentiful
fruits – mangoes, coconuts, litchis, apples, bananas, pineapples, oranges,
limes, passion fruit... strawberries even!. Madagascar you are rich and
beautiful and it has been a joy and an honour to serve you and your people!
One of my beautiful friends got a few people on board to
summarise our last few months here in Madagascar and I think she’s captured it
really well… (see if you can guess which my line is J ):
Psalm
136 – The Africa Mercy version
Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good… His love endures
forever.
He opened up an entire new region of
Africa unexpectedly… His love endures forever.
To Him who equipped us for the task… His
love endures forever
Who brought us through the mist of the
unknown and rough seas… His love endures forever.
And kept us safe in our precarious
berth… His love endures forever.
To Him who kept us safe from tropical
storms… His love endures forever.
Who provided all of our water…
His love
endures forever.
His faithfulness confirmed His promise
in ways seen and unseen…
His love endures forever.
Who connected our paths with the right patients…
His
love endures forever.
He saw us through every surgery… His
love endures forever
To him who heals bodies even when
surgery or medicines fail… His love endures forever.
He healed every wound… His love endures
forever.
Who restores movement to contracted
joints…
His love endures forever.
Whose presence filled our Hospital
causing infections to vanish, new skin to grow and left hearts overflowing with
hope… His love endures
forever.
During stress filled times, He answered my every page… His love endures forever.
To Him who provided our largest HOPE
center ever!... His love endures forever.
He saved lives through training! … His
love endures forever.
Who provided a way for us to minister to
orphans, the elderly, prisoners, the deaf & disabled… His love endures
forever.
To the ONE who created the colourful
richness of harmony in the music of Madagascar and blessed us with a day crew
that sings praises while they work…
His love endures forever.
And opened the floodgates of the
internet…
His love endures forever.
For the everlasting supplies of fruit
& veg…
His love endures forever.
For the day when the cheese came…
His
love endures forever.
To Him alone who created all the
lemurs…
His love endures forever.
Who provided a close friend at just the
right time…His love endures forever.
He kept us safe in 3 different countries…
His love endures forever.
To him who alone does great wonders… His love endures forever.
Let us give thanks to the God of
heaven.
His love endures forever.
And so I find myself nearly on my way home – 7 months of
surgery and it’s time to pack up this floating Hospital and let it sail again. My
heart is full and I can’t wait to be a part of the adventures that are planned
for our next 10 months here in Madagascar this August. From a hugely expanded
health education program that will span the nation, to setting up a Regional
Fistula Centre that we hope will leave a lasting legacy that will bring hope
and healing to thousands of women in Madagascar, to a Ponseti clinic which will
treat 100s of young children with club feet… not to mention the 12 towns around
Madagascar that will be visited by our teams to find patients that need the
help of our usual array of life transforming surgeries on board or the many
many rich and beautiful spirits that I will get to share life with… friends, patients
and colleagues… I truly cannot wait!
But first, I look forward to seeing some of you back home…
Until then… live as someone who is LOVED.
Rich and beautiful. His love endures forever.
KWW xx
Saturday, 14 March 2015
unforced rhythms of grace
It 's good to remember, isn't it, that life isn't just about us or even the people around us. Well in some senses of course it is, because we are part of one very beautiful body and without anyone to share it with or to complement what each of us bring to the table or without someone else to hold up our arms when we feel weak, we would likely frazzle and whither away. But in the midst of it, it' s not all about me getting it right for anyone else, or anyone telling me I 've done a good job or even about adding a shiny gold star to my lapel - when it seems like it is for these things, I enter a relentless cycle that never seems to find completion. I 'm never good enough, I 'm forever wishing I did better and I 'm always longing for more and wishing I didn't let myself or others down. The uncompleted cycle leaves me in this twisted trap of guilt and pride and fear and insatiable want and it steals from the simplicity and beauty that was meant for me. It keeps me from remembering that it 's Jesus I serve.
Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I 'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won' t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly. Matthew 11: 28-30
Read it again... slowly... it will take a few weights off your shoulders and likely loosen a few chains you might have let settle around your neck.
Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won 't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.
So in amongst our busy lives and the things that try to take a sneaky piece of our peace, I am slowly learning that we have to actively, consciously, whole-heartedly reach out for another way. The way that doesn't treat you like a puppet and demand that your limbs and heart jump with every fleeting tug, but the way of grace. And even when you long for the stillness of that grace and even when you know what it looks like, it is hard to find. I can testify to that. These last few months have been far from a walk in the park. I feel like my job has forced me to embrace all sorts of newness and challenges that have been way too big for me - big enough to overwhelm me and big enough to make me feel awfully small. But in amongst it all, I have found that all my heart really needed to know, even amongst a million unknowns and a million challenges and a million times when it has felt like the waves are too big... all I really really wanted to know is that I am a child of God. No longer a slave to fear, but a child of God. Surrounded by the arms of my Father.
And so this journey continues. May be you were hoping for lots of patient stories from me - don' t worry, there are plenty of those. Our Hospital doesn't stop pouring love out and that kind of love can' t help but transform hearts, inside and out. It' s beautiful. The tumours keep disappearing, the cataracts vanishing, legs are made straight and the signs of deepest fear and rejection are cut out with a sharp knife, leaving healthy places for love to grow. These things never stop happening in this incredible place.
Sambany was a fine example of that this last month. For 19 years he walked around with a growing facial mass of over 7 Kilos and when told of the risk of death that surgery would bring, he commented that it didn't matter, his spirit was already dead. So you can imagine the joy it is to see a tumour free, liberated Sambany. New life before him. And there are hundreds of others like him, not as noticeable on the outside, but perhaps even more powerfully changed on the inside. It' s why I am still here. There 's nothing my heart wants more. The lure of money or a nice house or a fancy car or a bit more independence just doesn't cut it. I can ditch those things fairly easily but - even then - it' s something more sneaky that lures me in. It 's something that you can' t walk away from as easily as those other things. It follows me, it haunts me and it steals from me: the opinion of others. It' s without doubt the hardest thing to walk away from. And it 's without doubt the most powerful thing that keeps me from remembering in this place: It's Jesus I serve.
And that 's why working here is about so much more than the surgery we do, or the people we meet or the lives that get transformed. Yes those things are huge. But bigger than that, Jesus is guiding me by the hand, he is leading me towards the day when I won' t care about what others think but instead will boldly declare, ' I am a child of God' . I reckon I have walked a little closer these last few months, a chain or 2 has gone. I 've been desperately discovering what it is to learn the unforced rhythms of grace and to know that... it' s Jesus I serve. But I 'm not there yet.
We' re here in Madagascar until early June, when we'll hop over to South Africa for our usual Ship MOT and then we will make our way back to Madagascar for another 10 life breathing, spirit transforming, mountain moving, impossibility defying, love overflowing months. I will pop home for a few weeks in June and also try to learn some more French for a few weeks in Switzerland in June/July. Sharing God s love, His life and His truth is all I really care about and for that, relationship is key. One of the privileges of my job means that I get to build vision and communicate with key leaders in the countries we work in. The most effective way to build relationship is to learn the language and I hope to make some strides forward with that. I want to do my job well and I want to serve the nations we are called to with excellence and with deepest respect. My stumbling French has a long way to go, but I will take one step at a time...
Praying hugest love over you. May his abounding grace wash over you where you need it most and may your fears be drowned in perfect love.
Love always, KWW
Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I 'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won' t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly. Matthew 11: 28-30
Read it again... slowly... it will take a few weights off your shoulders and likely loosen a few chains you might have let settle around your neck.
Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won 't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.
So in amongst our busy lives and the things that try to take a sneaky piece of our peace, I am slowly learning that we have to actively, consciously, whole-heartedly reach out for another way. The way that doesn't treat you like a puppet and demand that your limbs and heart jump with every fleeting tug, but the way of grace. And even when you long for the stillness of that grace and even when you know what it looks like, it is hard to find. I can testify to that. These last few months have been far from a walk in the park. I feel like my job has forced me to embrace all sorts of newness and challenges that have been way too big for me - big enough to overwhelm me and big enough to make me feel awfully small. But in amongst it all, I have found that all my heart really needed to know, even amongst a million unknowns and a million challenges and a million times when it has felt like the waves are too big... all I really really wanted to know is that I am a child of God. No longer a slave to fear, but a child of God. Surrounded by the arms of my Father.
And so this journey continues. May be you were hoping for lots of patient stories from me - don' t worry, there are plenty of those. Our Hospital doesn't stop pouring love out and that kind of love can' t help but transform hearts, inside and out. It' s beautiful. The tumours keep disappearing, the cataracts vanishing, legs are made straight and the signs of deepest fear and rejection are cut out with a sharp knife, leaving healthy places for love to grow. These things never stop happening in this incredible place.
Sambany was a fine example of that this last month. For 19 years he walked around with a growing facial mass of over 7 Kilos and when told of the risk of death that surgery would bring, he commented that it didn't matter, his spirit was already dead. So you can imagine the joy it is to see a tumour free, liberated Sambany. New life before him. And there are hundreds of others like him, not as noticeable on the outside, but perhaps even more powerfully changed on the inside. It' s why I am still here. There 's nothing my heart wants more. The lure of money or a nice house or a fancy car or a bit more independence just doesn't cut it. I can ditch those things fairly easily but - even then - it' s something more sneaky that lures me in. It 's something that you can' t walk away from as easily as those other things. It follows me, it haunts me and it steals from me: the opinion of others. It' s without doubt the hardest thing to walk away from. And it 's without doubt the most powerful thing that keeps me from remembering in this place: It's Jesus I serve.
And that 's why working here is about so much more than the surgery we do, or the people we meet or the lives that get transformed. Yes those things are huge. But bigger than that, Jesus is guiding me by the hand, he is leading me towards the day when I won' t care about what others think but instead will boldly declare, ' I am a child of God' . I reckon I have walked a little closer these last few months, a chain or 2 has gone. I 've been desperately discovering what it is to learn the unforced rhythms of grace and to know that... it' s Jesus I serve. But I 'm not there yet.
We' re here in Madagascar until early June, when we'll hop over to South Africa for our usual Ship MOT and then we will make our way back to Madagascar for another 10 life breathing, spirit transforming, mountain moving, impossibility defying, love overflowing months. I will pop home for a few weeks in June and also try to learn some more French for a few weeks in Switzerland in June/July. Sharing God s love, His life and His truth is all I really care about and for that, relationship is key. One of the privileges of my job means that I get to build vision and communicate with key leaders in the countries we work in. The most effective way to build relationship is to learn the language and I hope to make some strides forward with that. I want to do my job well and I want to serve the nations we are called to with excellence and with deepest respect. My stumbling French has a long way to go, but I will take one step at a time...
Praying hugest love over you. May his abounding grace wash over you where you need it most and may your fears be drowned in perfect love.
Love always, KWW
Friday, 13 March 2015
It's Jesus we serve
It’s Jesus we serve
It’s good to remember, isn’t it, that life isn’t just about
us or even the people around us. Well in some senses of course it is, because
we are part of one very beautiful body and without anyone to share it with or
to complement what each of us bring to the table or without someone else to
hold up our arms when we feel weak, we would likely frazzle and whither away.
But in the midst of it, it’s not all about me getting it right for anyone else,
or anyone telling me I’ve done a good job or even about adding a shiny gold
star to my lapel… when it seems like it is for these things, I enter a
relentless cycle that never seems to find completion. I’m never good enough,
I’m forever wishing I did better and I’m always longing for more and wishing I
didn’t let myself or others down. The uncompleted cycle leaves me in this
twisted trap of guilt and pride and fear and insatiable want and it steals from
the simplicity and beauty that was meant for me. It keeps me from remembering
that it’s Jesus I serve.
Come to me. Get away with me and
you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me
and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I
won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll
learn to live freely and lightly. Matthew 11: 28-30
Read it
again… slowly… it will take a few weights off your shoulders and likely loosen
a few chains you might have let settle around your neck.
Come to me. Get away with me and
you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me
and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I
won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll
learn to live freely and lightly.
So in
amongst our busy lives and the things that try to take a sneaky piece of our
peace, I am slowly learning that we have to actively, consciously, whole-heartedly
reach out for another way. The way that doesn’t treat you like a puppet and
demand that your limbs and heart jump with every fleeting tug, but the way of
grace…. And even when you long for the stillness of that grace and even when
you know what it looks like, it is hard to find. I can testify to that. These
last few months have been far from a walk in the park. I feel like my job has
forced me to embrace all sorts of newness and challenges that have been way too
big for me – big enough to overwhelm me and big enough to make me feel awfully
small. But in amongst it all, I have found that all my heart really needed to
know – even amongst a million unknowns and a million challenges and a million
times when it has felt like the waves are too big. – all I really really wanted
to know is that I am a child of God. No longer a slave to fear, but a child of
God. Surrounded by the arms of my Father.
And so
this journey continues. May be you were hoping for lots of patient stories from
me – don’t worry – there are plenty of those. Our Hospital doesn’t stop pouring
love out and that kind of love can’t help but transform hearts, inside and out.
It’s beautiful. The tumours keep disappearing, the cataracts vanishing, legs
are made straight and the signs of deepest fear and rejection are cut out with
a sharp knife, leaving healthy places for love to grow. These things never stop
happening in this incredible place.
Sambany
was a fine example of that this last month. For 19 years he walked around with
a growing facial mass of over 7 Kilos… when told of the risk of death that
surgery would bring, he commented that it didn’t matter, his spirit was already
dead. So you can imagine the joy it is to see a tumour free, liberated Sambany.
New life before him. And there are hundreds of others like him, not as
noticeable on the outside, but perhaps even more powerfully changed on the
inside. It’s why I am still here. There’s nothing my heart wants more. The lure
of money or a nice house or a fancy car or a bit more independence just doesn’t
cut it. I can ditch those things fairly easily but - even then - it’s something more sneaky that
lures me in. It’s something that you can’t walk away from as easily as those
other things. It follows me, it haunts me and it steals from me: the opinion of
others. It’s without doubt the hardest thing to walk away from. And it’s
without doubt the most powerful thing that keeps me from remembering: Its Jesus
I serve.
And
that’s why working here is about so much more than the surgery we do, or the
people we meet or the lives that get transformed. Yes those things are huge.
But bigger than that, Jesus is guiding me by the hand, he is leading me towards
the day when I won’t care about what others think but instead will boldly
declare, ‘I am a child of God’. I reckon I have walked a little closer these
last few months, a chain or 2 has gone. I’ve been desperately discovering what
it is to learn the unforced rhythms of grace and to know that… it’s Jesus I
serve. But I’m not there yet.
We’re
here in Madagascar until early June, when we’ll hop over to South Africa for
our usual Ship MOT – and then we will make our way back to Madagascar for another
10 life breathing, spirit transforming, mountain moving, impossible defying,
love overflowing months. I will pop home for a few weeks in June and also try
to learn some more French for a few weeks in Switzerland in June/July. Sharing
God’s love, His life and His truth is all I really care about and for that,
relationship is key. One of the
privileges of my job means that I get to build vision and communicate with key
leaders in the countries we work in. The most effective way to build
relationship is to learn the language and I hope to make some strides forward
with that.
Praying hugest love over you. May
his abounding grace wash over you where you need it most and may your fears be
drowned in perfect love.
Love
always, KWW
Sunday, 21 December 2014
who put me here?
Clambering into the rusty rickshaw and nestling myself into the somewhat torn plastic seat next to one of my most precious friends on Earth, we gave our instructions to take us to a local hotel where we would sip a beer and eat something yummy... and off we went - the drivers skinny little legs, pedaling round and round to take us to breathe some fresh air and some fresh thoughts... sometimes it's just good to do that here. The journey from the ship through this small port town is hardly something to write home about but there's a gentleness and peace in this place that swoops over you as you leave the port. The cars are few and the rickshaws are plenty. You get pedaled along past giant mounds of coconuts, ladies cooking samosas over an open fire and guys on the side of the road selling branches and branches full of lychees. The trees are a mix of palm, mango, lychee and some beautiful blooming frangipanis too. This time of year they are laden with fruit and my taste buds are tantalized at every sighting. You see people on bikes everywhere - from an old man with his bike weighed down with fresh flowers tied onto the back, weaving in amongst the collection of other 2 or 3 wheeled get arounds that there are - to cute little ones piled on bikes on their way to school. It makes driving with an actual motorized vehicle a dance just to get down the road. The streets aren't littered with chewing gum, but instead with mango and lychee stones. The sun is warm, the humidity not too bad and the breeze... pretty nice. It's not West Africa, that's for sure and 8 weeks on, I am still finding myself wondering... who put me here? It's a phrase I could use to pretty much summarise the last 3 and a bit months...
Cos many things were just never part of my plan.
- Ebola infesting West Africa... heaping yet more hopelessness on nations who are already struggling to survive...
- Promotion to a new job that started way earlier than I expected...
- A change in direction for the ship as we headed to Madagascar...
- An 18 day sail to Cape Town...
- A whirlwind week at home to witness a brave and miraculous recovery of my precious nephew from brain surgery (even 15 year old nephews can be precious, right?)
- A rather rough 8 day sail to Madagascar... a most beautiful Island off the East coast of Africa - hailed for it's natural beauty and yet overwhelmed by inequality in terms of access to health care...
...And so here I am.
It was never my plan. I don't even believe it was God's plan. Not Ebola. Not my God of life and love.
But sometimes we find ourselves not in plan A or plan B or even C...
As I left Benin and found myself back on the ship and then soon after sailing down the coast of Africa, I found myself wondering how the heck I got there... My heart for heading to Benin last June to help prepare for the ship arrival was to connect with the people there... to get out of my office and to connect with hearts that I knew had so much to teach me in a country we were preparing to stay the next year in. And yet Ebola hit West Africa and forced us to leave and there I was in early September, sailing to a Country I have never been to, doing a job I have never done, dealing with a million changes and fielding a thousand crises' that came as a result of all our changing plans.
And yet... there is beauty. There is grace. And there is great pleasure in stepping out into deeper waters. There's a joy and a privilege as I realize I am being trusted with more and a deep humility as I realize even more that I cannot do it alone. If I tried, I'd sink. And I've done that a few times. It's forced me to discover more of the beauty that has been planted around me. It's in these deeper waters that I have found yet more of myself that needs to be refined. Where I thought I'd learnt to be free from control and pride and fear... I have seen them raise their ugly heads again - they sneak in from different angles and they have done their fair share of trying to make me feel weak... but in doing so, the redeeming, reconciling, refining love of God has found me and, in these deep waters, I have even more beautiful stories to tell.
We've been busy these last few weeks trying to find patients and our teams have worked hard to filter through the 1000s that come hoping to find the ones we can really help. Cos truth is, we're a specialized surgical ship so there's lots of people we need to say no to. It's not easy and whilst every fibre in each of us wants to say 'yes' to the help they seek.... we can't.... and watching hope rise and then fade away is no easy thing. For these people it's not plan A or B or C or D or even E.... they leave wondering why someone else has said no to their plea for help once again and I always wonder what they are thinking. If my heart and mind stay in that place too long, it begins to lose hope it self. I have to believe that there is hope.... eternal hope... and even to the ones who hear a 'no'... I have to pray that they catch a glimpse of it...
I've just spent the last few days in the capital, Antananarivo for a few meetings. It's a short 45 minute flight away and as I set off, I had no idea how much life that little trip would bring. It's a beautiful city - situated around a lake that has purple blossoming Jacaranda trees all around it. It was a breath of fresh air to me - perhaps it was the hilly landscape with cobbled streets or the cute little buildings nestled into them, or the rickety collection of 30 or 40 year old Renaults and Citroens that form their taxi fleet, or perhaps it was the enjoyment of the cooler highland air, or the friendly smiles of the patients we were selecting for surgery... or may be it was merely a few days independence away from my Ship-land. I'm not sure what it was exactly and even more, I have no idea how I got there. How I got to be speaking to government officials or to be a part of making decisions for the future of our surgical plan...
And so you see, I've had a collections of, 'how did I get here's?' ... and I'm still not sure how we got to be bobbing around here in the Indian Ocean, but I do know that just like God's grace has got me through and just how abundantly I have known that, the same is true for each person who crosses our path. He works all things together for good and for the people we can say yes to, they are truly grateful there is a plan G... there is delight, there is hope, this is a reality that some have dreamed of for years and for those we say no to, I have to believe that plan X or Y or even Z will come through... that my God of hope and life will shower himself on these precious ones too.
So as we embrace 15 more months of surgery (we'll be here until June 2016), shout out a little prayer for the ones who are still looking for hope and rejoice with me for the ones who have found it... and pray it blossoms to even more as their precious lives are transformed forever....
Praying for you whether you're in plan A or B or C... may you know His unfailing grace and abounding love this Christmas and in the coming year.
Love always, KWW
Cos many things were just never part of my plan.
- Ebola infesting West Africa... heaping yet more hopelessness on nations who are already struggling to survive...
- Promotion to a new job that started way earlier than I expected...
- A change in direction for the ship as we headed to Madagascar...
- An 18 day sail to Cape Town...
- A whirlwind week at home to witness a brave and miraculous recovery of my precious nephew from brain surgery (even 15 year old nephews can be precious, right?)
- A rather rough 8 day sail to Madagascar... a most beautiful Island off the East coast of Africa - hailed for it's natural beauty and yet overwhelmed by inequality in terms of access to health care...
...And so here I am.
It was never my plan. I don't even believe it was God's plan. Not Ebola. Not my God of life and love.
But sometimes we find ourselves not in plan A or plan B or even C...
As I left Benin and found myself back on the ship and then soon after sailing down the coast of Africa, I found myself wondering how the heck I got there... My heart for heading to Benin last June to help prepare for the ship arrival was to connect with the people there... to get out of my office and to connect with hearts that I knew had so much to teach me in a country we were preparing to stay the next year in. And yet Ebola hit West Africa and forced us to leave and there I was in early September, sailing to a Country I have never been to, doing a job I have never done, dealing with a million changes and fielding a thousand crises' that came as a result of all our changing plans.
And yet... there is beauty. There is grace. And there is great pleasure in stepping out into deeper waters. There's a joy and a privilege as I realize I am being trusted with more and a deep humility as I realize even more that I cannot do it alone. If I tried, I'd sink. And I've done that a few times. It's forced me to discover more of the beauty that has been planted around me. It's in these deeper waters that I have found yet more of myself that needs to be refined. Where I thought I'd learnt to be free from control and pride and fear... I have seen them raise their ugly heads again - they sneak in from different angles and they have done their fair share of trying to make me feel weak... but in doing so, the redeeming, reconciling, refining love of God has found me and, in these deep waters, I have even more beautiful stories to tell.
We've been busy these last few weeks trying to find patients and our teams have worked hard to filter through the 1000s that come hoping to find the ones we can really help. Cos truth is, we're a specialized surgical ship so there's lots of people we need to say no to. It's not easy and whilst every fibre in each of us wants to say 'yes' to the help they seek.... we can't.... and watching hope rise and then fade away is no easy thing. For these people it's not plan A or B or C or D or even E.... they leave wondering why someone else has said no to their plea for help once again and I always wonder what they are thinking. If my heart and mind stay in that place too long, it begins to lose hope it self. I have to believe that there is hope.... eternal hope... and even to the ones who hear a 'no'... I have to pray that they catch a glimpse of it...
I've just spent the last few days in the capital, Antananarivo for a few meetings. It's a short 45 minute flight away and as I set off, I had no idea how much life that little trip would bring. It's a beautiful city - situated around a lake that has purple blossoming Jacaranda trees all around it. It was a breath of fresh air to me - perhaps it was the hilly landscape with cobbled streets or the cute little buildings nestled into them, or the rickety collection of 30 or 40 year old Renaults and Citroens that form their taxi fleet, or perhaps it was the enjoyment of the cooler highland air, or the friendly smiles of the patients we were selecting for surgery... or may be it was merely a few days independence away from my Ship-land. I'm not sure what it was exactly and even more, I have no idea how I got there. How I got to be speaking to government officials or to be a part of making decisions for the future of our surgical plan...
And so you see, I've had a collections of, 'how did I get here's?' ... and I'm still not sure how we got to be bobbing around here in the Indian Ocean, but I do know that just like God's grace has got me through and just how abundantly I have known that, the same is true for each person who crosses our path. He works all things together for good and for the people we can say yes to, they are truly grateful there is a plan G... there is delight, there is hope, this is a reality that some have dreamed of for years and for those we say no to, I have to believe that plan X or Y or even Z will come through... that my God of hope and life will shower himself on these precious ones too.
So as we embrace 15 more months of surgery (we'll be here until June 2016), shout out a little prayer for the ones who are still looking for hope and rejoice with me for the ones who have found it... and pray it blossoms to even more as their precious lives are transformed forever....
Praying for you whether you're in plan A or B or C... may you know His unfailing grace and abounding love this Christmas and in the coming year.
Love always, KWW
Saturday, 23 August 2014
hope redeemed
It was late in the evening, the air was heavy and thick with humidity and even though there was a breeze, you would never describe it as cool. I was going through the motions, putting one foot in front of the other - I had to - but as I lifted my foot from the tarmac onto the steps that would lead me to my plane ride home, I wondered if I would ever be back again. I wondered if God would ever trust me again, I wondered if I would ever trust myself again and I was wondering what hope lay before me. I tried to face it bravely but all the while my heart was broken. I felt like I had to tuck the love I had for sweet Africa away and I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to let it out again. It was April 2009 and after 3 years of working on board my big white ship, I was leaving the Africa Mercy from Benin. I was tired and feeling weak and it left me feeling like I had failed in many ways and I needed to go home to find rest. I knew I was walking towards a place where I would find life... but it wasn't easy.
A lot has happened since then. A lot of beauty has grown. Someone commented a while ago that I look like I am in love! And I am. I couldn't live life without the hope and redeeming love that Jesus has poured out on me. I have been relentlessly pursued, I have been believed in, I have been trusted, and treasured. I hear His cry of delight as I become more of who I was made to be and I hear a call of courage as I walk forward on new ground.
So you can imagine how I might have felt as I set foot back in Benin 2 months ago. Who would have thought? How does He do it? How does He hold all of these pieces together? How does He know... how did He know that it would mean so much? Why does He care? Surely there are more important things He needs to deal with? But He relentlessly pursues and His heart is always for life. And that's what He was leading me to...
I've been in Benin these last 2 months working as part of our Advance Team. It's a team that goes ahead of the Ship to 'Country Next' and prepares the way for the ship to arrive. I had been feeling a bit office-bound and dry in my job on the ship and was desperate to connect with the beauty of Africa that I had known, so jumped at the opportunity to join the team. I worked as the Healthcare Education Liaison and the position gave me opportunity to meet some of the most amazing people I have ever encountered. From the Ministry of Health, to the Nursing and Medical Schools, from Hospital Directors to the nurses on the wards... goodness gracious, I have been blessed. It was a privilege to share our vision and hope to be able to partner with them. They are each eager and hungry to learn. We say that relationships are the most important thing in West Africa and for this reason the Advance team does some crucial work. It isn't just about arranging logistics, but it is about getting to know each other, taking time and conveying value and respect. I have worked alongside an incredible translator and have enjoyed playing games in my head as I would try and beat him to translation as my French slowly improved. It was fun! The work has been beyond a privilege and as well as that, I have also made some special friends.
So it is with great sadness that the whole Ebola outbreak is shaking up our plans. Well, let me get that right... It is with great sadness that the Ebola virus is destroying so many beautiful lives in countries where they are just not equipped to deal with it. Not only do they lack simple infection control measures, but they lack good education that would help the deadly virus from spreading. People are scared and hope is being destroyed. It is just too sad. With it being so close to us in Nigeria, Mercy Ships has decided to delay the arrival of the ship from the previous arrival date of August 26 to better assess the situation. It's a time of tough decisions because not only do we have to make sure we keep our 400 crew safe but we also don't want to make matters worse for Benin itself. The ship is like a magnet and draws people from all over... and we can't be the ones to make the situation worse and make it spread further.
And all this can't help but leave me wondering... what does hope look like? How can we spend a few months in a Country, sharing vision, putting hope in people's hearts and then wonder if we might even be prevented from delivering our promises and watch those dreams fade away? What was all the relationship building all about? All I know is that it breaks God's heart too. And I know as well that He can restore, He can redeem and He is the one who puts hope in people's hearts.
The ship is going through some leadership changes and since our work in Benin is kind of on hold, myself and one other of our team have been asked to go back to the ship in the Canaries to help with work there for now. So as I reflect on the goodbyes to the rest of the team, I am sitting on the plane with a heavy heart because I'm leaving friends and I'm leaving a country that has so much life and hope to share itself. I'm wondering if I'll ever be back and questioning: what does Hope look like for Benin?
Right now, I don't know, I really don't know. But I do know that my God will relentlessly pursue this nation with His love. I wanted to be one of the ones to shower it on them... but if Ebola keeps us away for a while, I rest assured that He will keep pursing. I know that His heart is to overwhelm Benin with his love and to put an eternal hope in their hearts.
Hope Redeemed. That's my God. He did it for me and He will continue to do it for them. I need to know that right now because it hurts. I need to remind myself that God is restoring all things for His glory and that He can make all things new...
So wherever I am - Benin or the Canary Islands - and whatever I am doing - may people see you in it, Jesus, and may it all one day come together and crown you with many crowns...
Love always, KWW
A lot has happened since then. A lot of beauty has grown. Someone commented a while ago that I look like I am in love! And I am. I couldn't live life without the hope and redeeming love that Jesus has poured out on me. I have been relentlessly pursued, I have been believed in, I have been trusted, and treasured. I hear His cry of delight as I become more of who I was made to be and I hear a call of courage as I walk forward on new ground.
So you can imagine how I might have felt as I set foot back in Benin 2 months ago. Who would have thought? How does He do it? How does He hold all of these pieces together? How does He know... how did He know that it would mean so much? Why does He care? Surely there are more important things He needs to deal with? But He relentlessly pursues and His heart is always for life. And that's what He was leading me to...
I've been in Benin these last 2 months working as part of our Advance Team. It's a team that goes ahead of the Ship to 'Country Next' and prepares the way for the ship to arrive. I had been feeling a bit office-bound and dry in my job on the ship and was desperate to connect with the beauty of Africa that I had known, so jumped at the opportunity to join the team. I worked as the Healthcare Education Liaison and the position gave me opportunity to meet some of the most amazing people I have ever encountered. From the Ministry of Health, to the Nursing and Medical Schools, from Hospital Directors to the nurses on the wards... goodness gracious, I have been blessed. It was a privilege to share our vision and hope to be able to partner with them. They are each eager and hungry to learn. We say that relationships are the most important thing in West Africa and for this reason the Advance team does some crucial work. It isn't just about arranging logistics, but it is about getting to know each other, taking time and conveying value and respect. I have worked alongside an incredible translator and have enjoyed playing games in my head as I would try and beat him to translation as my French slowly improved. It was fun! The work has been beyond a privilege and as well as that, I have also made some special friends.
So it is with great sadness that the whole Ebola outbreak is shaking up our plans. Well, let me get that right... It is with great sadness that the Ebola virus is destroying so many beautiful lives in countries where they are just not equipped to deal with it. Not only do they lack simple infection control measures, but they lack good education that would help the deadly virus from spreading. People are scared and hope is being destroyed. It is just too sad. With it being so close to us in Nigeria, Mercy Ships has decided to delay the arrival of the ship from the previous arrival date of August 26 to better assess the situation. It's a time of tough decisions because not only do we have to make sure we keep our 400 crew safe but we also don't want to make matters worse for Benin itself. The ship is like a magnet and draws people from all over... and we can't be the ones to make the situation worse and make it spread further.
And all this can't help but leave me wondering... what does hope look like? How can we spend a few months in a Country, sharing vision, putting hope in people's hearts and then wonder if we might even be prevented from delivering our promises and watch those dreams fade away? What was all the relationship building all about? All I know is that it breaks God's heart too. And I know as well that He can restore, He can redeem and He is the one who puts hope in people's hearts.
The ship is going through some leadership changes and since our work in Benin is kind of on hold, myself and one other of our team have been asked to go back to the ship in the Canaries to help with work there for now. So as I reflect on the goodbyes to the rest of the team, I am sitting on the plane with a heavy heart because I'm leaving friends and I'm leaving a country that has so much life and hope to share itself. I'm wondering if I'll ever be back and questioning: what does Hope look like for Benin?
Right now, I don't know, I really don't know. But I do know that my God will relentlessly pursue this nation with His love. I wanted to be one of the ones to shower it on them... but if Ebola keeps us away for a while, I rest assured that He will keep pursing. I know that His heart is to overwhelm Benin with his love and to put an eternal hope in their hearts.
Hope Redeemed. That's my God. He did it for me and He will continue to do it for them. I need to know that right now because it hurts. I need to remind myself that God is restoring all things for His glory and that He can make all things new...
So wherever I am - Benin or the Canary Islands - and whatever I am doing - may people see you in it, Jesus, and may it all one day come together and crown you with many crowns...
Love always, KWW
Wednesday, 18 June 2014
rich
It's like trying to get out of a hot shower - the warmth and feel of the water just seem to call you to stay... just a few more minutes? Or just one last eye-full of sunshine glistening on the ocean blue? or one last wave to carry me to the shore... weeeeeeeeeeee... or one last strawberry or one last sniff of an extravagantly scented garden rose... or one last squeezy hug. Leaving home is never easy and, I'd even say, gets harder.
Richness is costly. Richness pays a price. Richness leaves you wondering how much love your heart can hold. I feel like a roll of tape that has rolled around a thousand different beautiful places and rolled in and out of the hearts of so many these last few weeks... and picked up a million pieces of love along the way that leaves my heart bursting and feeling so so rich. Richness doesn't come from money... I can testify to that. I laugh at myself as I dart around and point out the obvious to everyone, 'did you see the moon tonight?', 'did you smell that rose? ', 'can you feel that breeze?' ... it s all so rich to me and it has been so good to be home.
My dad joked as we used our 30+ year old body boards yesterday for, 'just one more surf ', that we should ask for our money back because they're looking a bit worn... and he always asks me as we get out of the water, it was worth the money wasn't it? ... as if we'd spent thousands of pounds on some rip off adventure... but all we did was carry an old board into some chilly waters and play in some waves. It cost next to nothing... and yet, has to be one of the richest things my heart knows.
It's rich because it takes me to a place where it' s just me and my Maker. We sing, we chat, we share thoughts, I tell Him the stuff that hurts, the dreams I have, I take time to breathe and acknowledge the rich before and behind. And as I wade into deeper waters, I find myself singing, 'You make me brave - you call me out beyond the shore into the waves. No fear can hinder now the promises you made.. .'. And I smile, because here I am again, trying to soak in this richness because my heart knows that it is soon time to leave. It s soon time to be brave. Again.
So here I am... about to start my journey to Benin and meet 8 others and, together, we form the Advance Team. Our job is to prepare the way for the ship s arrival in August. I'll miss this rich home, but am truly excited to get the opportunity to play a part in this team. The rich beauty of West Africa awaits... and I cannot wait...
Will you join me in praying richness over Benin? I long for hearts to know Jesus, for them to know a new depth of God s love for them and that we, as an organisation, would steward the love and gifts we have well so that we can share them in a way that will transform lives and share tastes of rich beauty that will last into eternity. And no doubt, Benin will show share their rich beauty with us too. Even the thought of such a privilege leaves me on my knees...
Sending the hugest hugs to you all - especially those of you I didn't get to see... and praying rich beauty over each of your hearts too.
Love forever, KWW
Richness is costly. Richness pays a price. Richness leaves you wondering how much love your heart can hold. I feel like a roll of tape that has rolled around a thousand different beautiful places and rolled in and out of the hearts of so many these last few weeks... and picked up a million pieces of love along the way that leaves my heart bursting and feeling so so rich. Richness doesn't come from money... I can testify to that. I laugh at myself as I dart around and point out the obvious to everyone, 'did you see the moon tonight?', 'did you smell that rose? ', 'can you feel that breeze?' ... it s all so rich to me and it has been so good to be home.
My dad joked as we used our 30+ year old body boards yesterday for, 'just one more surf ', that we should ask for our money back because they're looking a bit worn... and he always asks me as we get out of the water, it was worth the money wasn't it? ... as if we'd spent thousands of pounds on some rip off adventure... but all we did was carry an old board into some chilly waters and play in some waves. It cost next to nothing... and yet, has to be one of the richest things my heart knows.
It's rich because it takes me to a place where it' s just me and my Maker. We sing, we chat, we share thoughts, I tell Him the stuff that hurts, the dreams I have, I take time to breathe and acknowledge the rich before and behind. And as I wade into deeper waters, I find myself singing, 'You make me brave - you call me out beyond the shore into the waves. No fear can hinder now the promises you made.. .'. And I smile, because here I am again, trying to soak in this richness because my heart knows that it is soon time to leave. It s soon time to be brave. Again.
So here I am... about to start my journey to Benin and meet 8 others and, together, we form the Advance Team. Our job is to prepare the way for the ship s arrival in August. I'll miss this rich home, but am truly excited to get the opportunity to play a part in this team. The rich beauty of West Africa awaits... and I cannot wait...
Will you join me in praying richness over Benin? I long for hearts to know Jesus, for them to know a new depth of God s love for them and that we, as an organisation, would steward the love and gifts we have well so that we can share them in a way that will transform lives and share tastes of rich beauty that will last into eternity. And no doubt, Benin will show share their rich beauty with us too. Even the thought of such a privilege leaves me on my knees...
Sending the hugest hugs to you all - especially those of you I didn't get to see... and praying rich beauty over each of your hearts too.
Love forever, KWW
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