It’s not often that a ship filled with 400 volunteers whose goal is to provide medical care flows out into the street. The past two weeks have been a constant coming and going that leaves the streets of Pointe-Noire with a laundry list of questions. Why are you here? What do you mean you live on a ship in the port? What kind of surgery do you do? Can you take me to your ship? Some people look at our skin and guess that we are from the big white hospital ship others have no idea why we are here. Once we tell them that we are here to provide medical care, the question that always follows is what types of things can you help me with? We explain about our specialties; Orthopaedic for children less than 15 years of age, cleft lips, cleft palates, facial tumors, VVF, hernias, cataracts, dental problems...People are typically excited to hear, and It can be a compelling thing to meet potential patients out in the streets. Instructing them to come to our screening day, leaving them with bits of paper with the screening day details and hoping that they will turn up. It can also be a hard thing, when you meet people with very real needs, but unfortunately just not something we can help with. Our taxi driver the other evening actually brought his child to us, just to make sure after we had instructed him that it sounded like something we couldn’t help with. It was an obvious neurologic deficit...something that as much as we all wanted to, we just can’t help. It’s something after a year of being here that you will certainly have to do, but it never gets easier to squash someone’s hope. The look in their eyes as you say, “ I’m so sorry, but we can’t help” is the absolute worst. To see that glimmer leave, to see their hearts sink, and to watch as they pull their emotion back and say thank you. It’s heartbreaking--as much as we want to change their world, we can’t. What we can do is leave them with ideas for comfort measures, and some prayer-- which sometimes feels like a courtesy prize...but I know that our God can take care of things. That he cares for all of us, even that little boy who may never walk, talk, or be considered normal...
As we prep for our big screening day on Wednesday, we are anticipating thousands of people. The team has been planning for months and it’s all hands on deck as we near closer to the day when we will meet so many of our prospective patients over the course of 12 hours....
One story that has left an impact I think on so many of us here on the ship is the story of our first patient. Monday the 12th my friend Mirjam flew in from Holland. The group that came that evening was one the first to arrive by plane into the Congo. That evening we all were able to see the way God weaves our lives together. How he is a constant provider, and how faithful he is. There is a man who lived in Nigeria. He has had a tumor for 12 years, and has been unable to receive help. Recently someone told him that he should go to the Mercy Ship--that they (we) would be able to help. So he found out where we would be next, and he saved, and he put himself on a plane to the Republic of Congo. He boarded the plane with hope and the dream to have his surgery. I can’t imagine all of that planning, determination, and drive only to arrive in the country, and then think---how exactly do I find this ship?
But as I said, God provides. That evening he was sitting out near the airport, and he saw a flip of a sign that had the Mercy Ships logo printed on it. That sign was held by one of our crew, there to pick up a group of arrivals. This could be where the story ended, that moment of sheer joy when he found the ship! But it’s get’s much better than that.....In that group of arrivals happened to be two of the four screening coordinators. (pretty much the very very best possible people to be in the presence of in his current situation). He explained his situation and they jumped into work mode, literally 30 minutes after touching down on Congolese soil. They found him a place to stay that evening, and now he is living at our unopened Hope Center-awaiting screening day this coming weekend. Can you imagine how many things in that scenario could have gone wrong? How he could have not seen the sign, or how there could have been a different group flying in? But no--God is good, and he put everyone in the right place that evening to provide for the first patient of the outreach.
Looking forward to this week we need God’s provision. We need his hand on all of us as we try to carry out his work here in the Republic of Congo. We need wisdom, discernment, and stretch to carry out his beautifully orchestrated plan..
