This week began with Christmas festivities. It was hard to be away from home, and hard to be away from my dear family. However, despite the sickness for home that at points overwhelmed me, I had a wonderful Christmas here with my dear sisters and brother. Teegan (from Canada), organized a beautiful tree in which we each took three pieces and decorated them. When we had finished decorating our pieces we put them all together to form a beautifully amazing Christmas tree. Christmas Eve was spent eating pizza, and opening our “main presents”, to honor our Europeans as they open presents on the 24th. We had carols by candle light led by Becca (from PA), Anne (from Germany), and Mattias (from Sweden) read the Christmas story. Michaela (from Canada) and Eve (from Australia) got heaps of amazing Indian treats for us to enjoy, and chai. It was a wonderful Christmas Eve, also because I got to talk to my mom, the birthday girl, for over an hour.
The next day we woke up at a wonderful hour, had coffee, and opened our stockings, as that is a North American tradition. At noon we went to a hotel, and ate the most amazing meal I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve been craving a huge, hearty, tasty salad for six months and I finally got it, and SUSHI! As well as the most amazing deserts I’ve ever seen in my life. Chocolate covered strawberries, and REAL coffee, with REAL milk! Not instant Nescafe, with powdered milk. After we finished eating we rolled ourselves out to the pool, and swam for a while. A short while mind you, as the water was like ice, and our food wouldn’t fully digest until 4 pm the next day.

The day after Christmas was spent at a Fort, some parts built as far back as the 1500’s. It was huge, and had some really breath taking views. I wish I could communicate what happens in side of me when I see green trees, bush, and water. From the top of the fort, you could see all of these things, scattered about old, rock ruins. There is something so freeing about being outside of the city. It was really nice.


Then on the 27th, we went for our tour of the hospital we’ll be working at for the next six months. I was really nervous that morning, as I would be seeing a small glimpse of the rest of my life, but as soon as we arrived, I was filled with great excitement. The hospital is a massive government hospital, devoted to all things maternity. We walked around, looking at all of the different wards, being overwhelmed by the amount of patients, and family overtaking the grounds. Last year the hospital delivered 18,000 babies… in one year. They said some nights could have up to 100 deliveries. I stood there, dumbfounded. Only a few hours there, and I was so excited to begin working.

Good thing for me, we started the next day. I was put in the septic/ post natal ward. The septic ward is for HIV patients, whom they refer to as “zed patients” for the sake of privacy. We got to labour with a nineteen year old, which was really great. We walked around the post natal ward taking the woman’s temperatures, and admiring the brand new babies. There were two women to a bed, crowded, and conditions which would probably break your heart. It was the first day, and just a taste of hospital life.

Then yesterday I got a huge, heaping helping of the hospital, and it was all I could do to survive the day. I was in the labour room this time. There were four of us, running between two labour rooms, six beds in each room, at least 3 labouring in each room at any given time. The women labour half naked, on stainless steal metal slabs. I won’t go into detail, as I’m not sure how I feel about exploiting my new work place. But my day was spent holding women’s hands, watching them writhe in pain, screaming, bleeding; being yelled at as if having a baby is a thing to be punished for. There were hemorrhages, tears, obstructions, all in which I could handle, but the women, screaming, shaking in shock, the feeling of being in a war zone, blood everywhere, metal beds, lack of supplies, was enough to through me into semi-shock myself. There was one point, as I was standing with a women who’d been labouring for hours, pushing for hours, the baby had to be resuscitated, her tear went almost into her rectal mucosa (which is really bad), that the corners of my sight began to blacken. She was getting sutured up, screaming, being told so forcefully, to obey certain commands, with no grace, no kindness, no gentleness, and I felt as if I was watching someone be tortured. It was all I could do not to surrender myself to unconsciousness, as my blood slowly left my face, leaving me, I'm sure, the color of death itself. I just kept telling her, under my breath, “Our King is coming to make all right, my love. He is coming to right the wrong. He will right your wrong my love. He will right the wrong.” Imagining my King riding on the clouds, coming to rescue the innocent from the injustices of this world was all that got me through yesterday. I know that he was breaking far more than I as He watched his daughter in pain. I took a few minutes in the doctor’s room, and couldn’t even cry. I had no words, or feelings even to explain what was happening in my head, in my heart. I am not sure how many deliveries I saw, many. I lost count. I got to receive one of the babies right out of the womb. I rubbed him warm, bathed him, and clamped his cord, praying for his precious little life. It was wonderful. Indian babies are so beautiful. Small, but beautiful.

Please pray for strength, favor with the doctors; that they will not tire of our suggestions, and looks of “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Hollie (one of our staff from New Zealand) was able to deliver two babies yesterday. So we are hoping after a few weeks, (or days) of observation, that we will be able to deliver some babies of our own. Complications seem to be normal here, so pray that I’ll have wisdom, and confidence to face them as they come. I need strength, I tell you that openly and honestly. This is a hard place for sensitive hearts. I long to feel deeply for these women without growing numb, but I can not afford to break down everyday. Although maybe someone crying with the women is more what they need than anything else. This world, it is broken. So broken.

Please realize that a lot happens on the other side of the world. Please don’t forget the lives of these over here. A world away, in a life far different than our own, but they are people none the less. If you feel a call to go, go. Go. All I can say is go. If that means to the poor and broken near you, than go. If that means to the poor and broken here, come. If that means to the poor and broken everywhere, than go. He is good, and He can come through you’re hands, and your feet. He longs to comfort the broken, hold the suffering, the sick, and the lost. He call do all these things through you’re precious hands and feet.

Bless you. I love you dearly.

India. I’ve been here for two weeks, and it has yet to set in. Perhaps it is because we’ve been working very hard to finish all of our lectures before Christmas. I’d like to proudly say I took my last Birth Attendant Exam today. It was rough. All on Post Partum Hemorrhage, and let me be the first to say, that’s no easy topic. But it has its benefits. Like practicing taking blood for blood samples and inserting cannulas. It was a bit terrifying, but when I successfully withdrew blood from Hollie’s median cubital vein I was so pumped.






My cannulating Hollie was slightly less successful, but cannulas are tricky. You have to not only get the needle in, but there is also a tube around the needle that stays in the vein after the needle is removed. The cannula stays in the skin/vein allowing you quick access to the circulatory system for IVI’s, medicine, blood transfusions or plasma expanders. It’s so important to be able to insert a cannula successfully. Its wild really, how a small piece of plastic can end up saving a woman’s life.
(Mom, please do not worry, as we are good midwives, practicing aseptic technique, using sterile needles, gloves, and the rest of it. We’re safe, healthy and happy.)



Other than lectures, we finished reading through the bible out loud, and FINALLY got settled into our permanent rooms. I love mine. It has a lot of natural light and high ceilings. Not to mention it comes complete with an ant infestation (taken care of now) and heaps of cockroaches. Bless their little dying hearts. It’s really quite relaxing; especially since I was put in the “chill-quite-early-to-bed” room. We have no storage, and really no room other than under and at the end of our beds. We went to this fruit stand on the side of the road and got some old, beat up, wooden fruit boxes to use as dressers. As I was walking home I had to drop one to the ground as a little eight legged friend came out to say hello. I rinsed them when I got home, covered them with scarves, and they are now serving me faithfully as nightstands and dressers. It’s really nice to have the feel of a home. And what’s better than a feeling of a home, I started to boil a kettle of water and pour it into my bucket. So, my breath taking, cold bucket showers are now wonderfully enjoyable warm bucket showers. Since I’ve been running laps around this dirt lot, I need showers more often than not. Running in India is actually quite comical. It’s unheard of really, but the dirt field is right next to where we are staying, away from the road, and we go at nine o’clock at night, so it’s dark. Even then I need to wear a punjabi. It’s beautiful in the evening here, around 75 degrees, and it’s the dead of winter. Ask me how much I love running in a few months when it’s 95 degrees at night.



We also were able to go to the zoo for Australian Eve’s birthday. It was really fun. I have this fear of monkeys resulting from a scare in Nepal involving a terrifying little money and my dear sister Danielle. Since that moment as I watched that monkey attack her punjabi I haven’t been the same. However this time at the zoo may have brought some healing. It was a wonderful treat.

Every Wednesday since the beginning of our time in Cairo, we’ve been having this time we call a “Love devotional”. A few months ago each one of us drew an aspect of 1st Corinthians 13 description of love out of a hat. We were meant to think about what it means to us, and how Jesus displayed it using the book of Luke. This Wednesday was becca’s turn. She shared on “love does not seek its own”. It was so powerful. She used the passage where Jesus is in the garden and he is asking that the “cup may be passed from his lips.” He chose others over himself. Peace over dissention, the lives of others over his own, the idea of community over self preservation. This is the way I wish to love. She asked us to think of ways we misuse power in order to preserve ourselves. I was convicted and humbled as I realize it may be one of my greatest struggles- “self preservation”. I desire to be one who chooses peace over dissention, the lives of others over my own, and the betterment of community over the betterment of my own life. A topic which, I’m sure, will take a life time to understand, but how I’ll grow in the process. Jesus help me love

To start our time in Cairo we read through the whole bible in a matter of a few days. We split into groups of two, each taking a book of the bible, and just tore through it. When we’d finish one book, we’d move along to the next. It was amazing to speak such truth into a place before beginning our work there. I felt as if it truly made a difference. We have begun that again in India. So for the last few days we have used the mornings to read through some of the books of the Old Testament. I reckon we’ll be finished reading through it in the next day or so, then on to the New Testament. The first day of bible reading, three others from my team and I went to this beautiful park near where we stay. While we were reading these two Indian men came up to Mattias and asked him to tell them about “our book”. Mattias got to tell them all about it.

In the afternoon we’ve been finishing up our lectures. This week we are studying post partum hemorrhage. Yesterday I found myself reviewing all that I have learned since July. I was overwhelmed realizing how much I have grown, how much I have gained from this school. I love learning. It’s so much fun. Midwifery is honestly the most interesting topic. There is so much to learn, so much to know, but it’s all so interesting; especially when you have to put together dances about how to assess puerperal sepsis, or a drama about primary post partum hemorrhage. Not only have I learned a lot, but I’ve had so much fun doing so.


Then Tuesday, at around noon, we were meant to go for what we thought was an “introduction time” with our contacts here. We ended up at two different HIV clinics and did not return home until ten o’clock last night. Sometimes the miscommunication and confusion of India can actually prove to be wonderful little surprises. Our contacts ended up being this beautifully amazing Indian couple, both doctors. They have started an HIV clinic here in Hyderabad. I was blown away listening to this doctor speak with such wisdom, knowledge, and utter abandonment to the kingdom, and our beautiful King. He has been doing this work for years, and yet he still handles each patient with such gentleness, love and care. Despite the strong beliefs many of the patients hold, he prays for each one of them; and not just a prayer, but a whole hearted plea, and song of praise. His prayers were specific to each patient’s needs, and so direct. I later told some of the girls that I may have only come to this school to meet God fearing, and humble doctors; to see medicine done right. In Egypt and now here, I have been blessed and changed by doctors practicing medicine the way it was intended to be practiced- with love, wisdom, thoroughness and kindness.
The doctor invited us out to the sister city of Hyderabad to a World Vision HIV clinic. It was so amazing to see World Vision in action. I, at one point as a teenager, supported a world vision child. Of course, the selfishness and naivety of my youth overtook my good intentions and I stopped sending my monthly gift. But the memory of little girl lives on in my mind, and I can only wonder if some of my monthly gifts went to this clinic or something like it. It was really amazing to see the thousands of dollars people send to World Vision children truly be put to use, and amazing things happen because of them. The money that is sent is used to not only sponsor and support the child, but it also goes to sustainable community development in the child’s community. They get invited into a community, they fill the community’s largest need, be it an HIV clinic, a new school or education system, a feeding program, or a church. Most importantly, they rise up people in the community to run the project and make it their own.

“Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, feed him for a life time.”

I saw the money given by hundreds of people around the world being used to transform not only a community, but people’s lives. Their $20 or so a month are providing education, health care, nutrition and support to 227 HIV positive men, women and children.

This is worth while. This is worth supporting. I tend to be leery of sending money to large organizations, cynical about where it will go, and how it will be used. But this organization is a voice for the voiceless. It is addressing the needs of the poor and needy, and filling them. And not only the immediate, but the long term. They are transforming communities. Life by life, village by village, city by city, project by project, they are changing the world.

And I count myself blessed to have been a witness to these amazing works yesterday. My prayer is to be able to work with them much more throughout my stay here; to learn from their selflessness, their wisdom, and their strategy.
Empowering the people… brilliant, selfless, this will change the world.




My life in the last three days has been transformed as well. However, the transformation is slightly less beautiful and thought provoking than that of the HIV clinics. Some of the ways of India I remember fondly and have looked forward to, and some are not so fondly remembered, nor looked forward too. Some of these I look forward to are- sweet lassi, eating with my hands, chai, punjabis, bangles, beautiful women dressed in beautiful colours, and green trees. Some of these not as fondly remembered being cold bucket showers, lack of toilet paper, deadly traffic, and punjabi shopping. Thankfully, these have all worked together to form a comforting and familiar atmosphere. Even when my shower takes my breath away… I simply think of it as “refreshing”. Hum-dil-alah.

Be blessed dear friends.
Be strong, take heart, and wait on the Lord.

Alas, I am back in India. I can hardly believe it's true. Even now, at the end of my second day. It seems as if it is only a dream. Soon I will awake to find that I am actually in California, at home, asleep in my bed, months away from leaving for the start of the BAS in Australia. But no, instead, I look around me to find a seedy internet cafe in the middle of a huge, busy, crowded city. My lips are still burning from this afternoon's lunch, and my brain, active and caffeinated by my five chai's. I went punjabi shopping today. I believe it may be my "hate language". I found a soft material that was nice and breathable. To be honest, I paid no mind to the pattern, or color, but got three in the nice material, some cotton ones, and called it a day. Two of them just happen to be the sickest "split pea soup green" color, only differing by the type of flowers decorating it. Amen. Praise the Lord for six months of punjabis.


As for my concern with my vitamin d deficiency fear... I think I took care of that during our stay in Sri Lanka. In fact, I don't think I need to worry about vitamin d for the next 40 years. I resemble a lobster, or maybe a ripe juicy tomato. Despite my pain, it's rather comical. Who knew the sun in Sri Lanka was so brutal? It was absolutely beautiful by the way. Pictures soon to follow...
I am thankful to be back in India. A bit of an emotional roller coaster. But I am thankful none the less.
Today marks the one year anniversary of the accident. Jesus, heal the broken.

This morning, Or last night, or yesterday, I had to say goodbye to Cairo, Egypt. It was some what surreal. Well, actually completely surreal. I still can not believe I will never go home to Garbage City, or see the beautiful pregnant Sudanese women. I will never buy fruit from the fruit stand or bread from my baker. I will not hear "WELCOME TO CAIRO!" every minute of every day. I won't have to exhaust my Arabic to get the price down on a taxi, nor will I eat yogurt, honey, pomegranate, and bananas every morning. Instead of Nescafe, I will have Chai. Instead of taxis rickshaws. Instead of long skirts, and long sleeve shirts, I will wear punjabis. Oh my gosh. I will be delivering babies. Soon.
But now, all I have to think about is an eight hour layover in Bangkok, Thailand. And on to all night, and day of fun in Sri Lanka. I am very excited. I'm concerned about becoming Vitamin D deficient. Maybe I can expose an arm long enough in Sri Lanka to absorb some. It was funny coming into Thailand today, seeing people in short sleeves and skirts. Shocking really. I've gotten quite used to being, and seeing others fully clothed.
I am excited for a new season. I can hardly believe the last one has ended, but I am excited for the next. Wow. I am on the last leg of the Birth Attendant School. Sometimes I don't understand how fast time can fly right in front of you. I suppose it only grows faster with age. I must enjoy it while I can. So... "Thailand, I'm all yours."
Here are some pictures of us saying our "goodbyes". Some sad days...

The end of this week completes the last full week of ministry here. I can hardly believe I will be leaving this place in just five more days. I don’t think I’ll understand how much I’ve grown to love my “home” here until I’m flying a mile over head. This week was such a wonderful end to a beautiful season. I feel as though I have learned so much about myself, about love, and about the Kingdom. It’s amazing how He never stops speaking to me, He never stops growing me, stretching me, loving me.
This week we spent time at the orphanage, we worked with Sudanese refugees, and were in our community. On Tuesday we went to the clinic as usual to give TB treatment to Sudanese refugees. It was enjoyable, as it always it, however it wasn’t until after the TB clinic finished that it became incredible. It was two weeks ago that some of the girls did a post-natal home visit at a house, and found the week old baby healthy and happy. The next day the mother and father brought the baby in during our TB clinic. The baby had begun to vomit and have diarrhea. It was concerning, but the doctor felt it was just a flu bug. She gave some antispasmodic drugs to stop the vomiting, as sent them home with her home phone number. Hollie and I sat with the woman as cried; trying desperately to breast feed this beautiful little baby. We prayed for them, and stroked the breathtaking face of this perfect little baby boy. The mother called the doctor that night and said that Quail had begun to vomit blood. The doctor sent them immediately over to the hospital. We had planned to visit the baby the next day, but by the time we were ready to go, we called a friend at the hospital, and she told us that he had died just a few hours before. He had a rare blood disease, not seen much in this nation. I didn’t really know how to react, or what to feel in the moment. It wasn’t until a few days later when we were having worship and someone read out Revelation 7: 9-7 that it hit me. I saw this beautiful Sudanese baby, clothed in white, sitting at the thrown of Je.sus. Every tear wiped away, never to be hungry, never to be thirsty, and never to feel the scorching of the sun. Though these people have faced great tribulation, they will one day be clothed in white, singing, “Salvation belongs to our Go.d who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”
I began to weep, at the loss of this beautiful baby, and at the picture of “restoration”. It seems strange, that my tears would be shed for two reasons, seemingly contradicting one another. But then again, it is the mystery of the universe… this King we serve. He rights the wrong, I hold on to that. His promises are true. We visited the mother of this precious baby, and by the third hug, she broke. “I just remembered what has happened…” she said in Arabic through her tears. We sat with her, shared with her the vision Hollie had of Quail, and Revelation 7. I played with her other two beautiful boys. I was thankful for the lives they still had to live. I was undone thinking about what it must be like to be a refugee; lost in a world so different from your own, away from family, friends, and the familiar. Then to experience tragedy away from those things, I wanted to be able to carry some of her burden. Then I remembered someone else was taking far more than I could. His yoke is easy, His burden is light.


I thoroughly enjoyed my last day at the antenatal clinic. I asked my staff to give all of my shots that day, so I could just enjoy my patient’s company without shaky hands. Ha. Here is just a glimpse of the beautiful women I am blessed to serve. I tell you the truth; pictures do them no justice, as their beauty is a beauty that is not easily captured. I am blessed.


Yesterday morning was spent with a group of saints. There is a man in our community that has composed a team that do home visits to the sick, elderly and handicapped. Every month, they take one week to bring the sick and elderly to church, and another to bring the handicap. Last week was the sick and elderly, this week was the handicap. I was so blessed by those I worked along side of, and those I served. We enjoyed another long, Arabic service, communion, and then a wonderful time up at the “park” playing. I was blessed to see these disabled people, so often forgotten in societies, remembered. And not only remembered, but honored. It was a wonderful day; I laughed hard, and often. I enjoy the outlook on life many of them held. We can learn a lot from those not quite as consumed by the world we live in. It’s rather restful to be lost in a world far from the one I live in. A world of happiness, simplicity, and laughter.




And now, I enter into my last week in this beautiful nation. It’s been a wild ride, one of brokenness, growth, love, and hope. As much as I will miss this place, I am so excited for India. I can hardly believe it will be my third time in two years. To a nation I didn’t think I’d return to for years. He is faithful.

I wanted to thank you for you’re encouragement. You’ll maybe never understand how much you’re words of affirmation, and love mean to me. How one little note of support from home can get me through weeks of uncertainty. Thank you. You speak more truth than you know.