Not Always What You Expect

The government tourism agency here in PNG used to use the slogan "The Land of the Unexpected." Really, the Christian life is full of surprises, and not just in lush tropical island paradises. Just when you fall into a pattern, a habit, God has a way of gently turning you in new directions.

Just today, for instance, I had to tell a lady named Agnes that she had inoperable cancer. Sadly, that's nothing new in my work here. In fact, it was the second time today. I went through my usual explanations about pain control, help with whatever symptoms she developed, making sure that she understood that I wasn't writing her off as someone that I couldn't help, even if that help did not include cure. And then, as I usually do, I tried to turn the conversation to spiritual matters. Once it is clear that the body will not last much longer, I always want to make sure that my patients are prepared for eternity.

Her husband, John, was with her, and although in our conversation it appeared that she understood my Pidgin, she would only speak in their local language, and he would translate for her. When I asked if they were Christians, he nodded toward his wife and said, "Mama's a Christian." I looked at him and asked, "but Papa's not?" He silently nodded his confirmation.

After asking some clarifying questions to make sure that they both understood what I was talking about, I asked if he'd like to become a Christian. Again he silently, but definitely nodded. I didn't want to assume anything about what he thought I was asking him, so I briefly explained God's plan of salvation. His wife then started speaking to him in their local language, but stopped and turned to me, and said in perfectly clear Pidgin, "I'll translate what you say for him."

Now suddenly we were in an area that she knew about. She was no longer shy. She could speak with confidence. At times her translation turned into a conversation between wife and husband, usually ending with him nodding, and then they would both wait for me to continue. Obviously, she was explaining in more detail than I was, and making sure he understood and agreed.

As I finished my explanation, I again asked if what I had talked about is what he really wanted to do. Again that nod.

I laid my hands on each of their shoulders, but as I started to pray each of them reached up and took my hand as they took each other's. As we sat there in our little circle, God joined us. I prayed for Agnes, and then for John. Then I offered to lead John in prayer. He softly copied my words in a prayer of confession and repentance, asking Jesus to come into his life, and to forgive his sins.

As we finished praying it seemed that none of us wanted the time together to end. We continued to hold hands for several minutes. Finally Agnes looked up and as our eyes met, she gave me a big smile. I can't remember ever seeing a patient smile within minutes of being told that they have a terminal disease.

So I expected to be ministering to the patient, the one with the bad disease. But God had different plans for today. He wanted to minister to us all.

Yours and His,
Andy
Photos (Not directly related to the story):
#1 Judy at Suicide Rock
#2 Andy at Suicide Rock

A New Experience

The other day I had a new experience for me--maybe in this day and age not necessarily unique to PNG.

One of my good national friends had just discovered that her husband had been unfaithful to her. He had actually taken a second wife, turning his back on my friend, his 3 children and on the Lord.

The amount of HIV and AIDS is rapidly accelerating in PNG. Statistics show that this country is at the place Africa was 10 years ago. The government, our church and other Christian churches are working hard and fast to teach people what AIDS is and how not to get it.

The woman that he had taken up with had been with many other men. My friend, a strong Christian, needed to go to our hospital lab to have an HIV test. I didn't want her to go alone. I went with her and held her hand.

Its hard to do things like that privately in this culture. So here's this holy living woman having a test that brings into question her own morality. It was hard but through it all the Lord gave her peace.

It brought to my mind Matthew 11:28,29 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

As we got ready to leave, we looked over to the chapel doors. There was a tired, maybe sick woman resting on the ground. Under the cross. What a reminder that's where we need to be no matter what circumstances we face in life!

Judy

Grace and Peace

A week isn't a long time, but perhaps it's long enough to start to put things into perspective.

Last night (very late last night) as I walked home from the hospital I was thinking a lot about events of a week ago. Looking back, I can see now that there probably wasn't a time when Sam's life was in immediate danger, but it sure felt like it to him, and it sure felt like it to me. At least it allowed me to have a clear idea as to how it would feel to lose him. And it allowed me to have a better idea than before of what it must feel like for any father, any parent to lose a child.

That trip to the hospital had been to see a critically-ill child. I'd been called to his bedside several times during the day, but this time he hadn't made it. I've had that experience more times than I want to remember, and each time I pray with the parents. Each time I want to think of just the right thing to say, the right way to pray that will give them comfort. But it always comes down to the same thing; I pray for grace and peace for them. It always seems so inadequate, but it's all I have to offer.

As I walked home, I thought of those events of a week earlier, and of my feelings when I had thought about the possibility of losing our boy, and how God had ministered His grace and peace to us. I realized that it is no small thing. What more could any of us ask than for a measure of grace and peace? It is what Paul prayed for the recipients of every one of his epistles.

And it's what I pray now:

Grace and Peace to you,

Andy

Photo: Me with Randy, whose name is a combination of "Ray" (Comstock) and "Andy."

Rescue in Paradise

It is now Sunday evening--Mother's day. Judy got a great Mother's Day gift, and I get to share it. The end of the story is that Sam is safe and unharmed, except for scrapes and bruises.

Yesterday Sam went with missionary Scott Dooley and volunteer medical student Ben Kumor to explore a cave that Scott has been talking about doing for several years. Scott loves caves, and has done quite a bit of spelunking (the term for exploring caves). Sam and Scott have explored several caves in the area here, but this particular one has fascinated them. The problem is that the entrance to this one is a 150' vertical shaft, and they just didn't have the equipment to safely get into and out of it!

On his last furlough, Scott acquired the equipment he needed, a longer climbing rope, and ascenders, devices that make it possible to climb up a rope. Ever since the Dooleys got back, they have been planning the day. They have been training in trees so that Sam could learn to rappel and ascend with the rope.

So yesterday they drove to Konduk (the title photo for this blog was taken from there), then hiked the 2-plus hours to the cave, along with John Opa, a local friend. They rappelled into the cave without incident, looked around, annoyed thousands of bats, and began to climb back up the rope. But they experienced trouble with the ascending equipment, and ended up with Ben and Scott out, and Sam hanging on the rope part-way up, unable to either go up or down.

Scott, Ben and John tried to pull Sam up, but the rope lay over several angles of rock which added so much friction that they could not move him more than a few inches.

We got cell phone service in the Highlands almost a year ago, which turned out to be a tremendous blessing in this situation. Scott was able to phone us. I brought Jeff Myers and a group of young men from our college of nursing, and drove to Konduk. The young men ran to the cave, and along with some people from Konduk were able to pull Sam up. Although I tried to get there, I did not make it to the cave by the time they got him out, so I waited for him along the trail. We got home about 10 pm, exhausted but thankful to God for His help, and for the wonderful, selfless people who got involved.

Today we went ahead with a previously made plan, and drove into Mt. Hagen for church and a mother's day lunch at a restaurant.

We know that many of you pray for us frequently, and we thank you all for those prayers.

Happy Mother's Day to you all, mothers or not!
Andy, Judy, and Sam

P.S. I'm writing a long, detailed account of the experience. If you want to get it, send an email, and use "Long version" as the subject line.

Photos:
#1 Sam at the top of Mount Tabi on the way to the cave
#2 Ben Kumor and John Opa
#3 Sam, talking to his mom on the cell phone from Mount Tabi after getting out of the cave.

The Landslide

The lead story in Friday's Post-Courier (one of PNG's three nationally-circulated newspapers) is about the landslide and subsequent problems that I alluded to in a previous blog. I thought some of you might be interested. Click here to link to the story on line.

Here is a photo taken by Mike Chapman. Mike is currently serving as construction supervisor for the new hospital, and Work and Witness coordinator here. The day of the landslide he drove to the site to check it out for himself and took this picture.

Note that the power poles once ran along the highway. Landowners were charging people to even walk across, but the police and the military have put a stop to that. Local people are still earning money by hiring out as porters to carry things across. As the PC article states, a large amount of government aid has arrived for the villagers at the landslide site.

It is interesting that there is now confusion as to whether a person's land is the original location, or if it is the portion of ground that has slid down the mountain. The truth is that it is probably unwise for anyone to live on any of this ground again, as it remains unstable.

One other bit of good news is that there is indeed a refinery in the Highlands on "our side" of the landslide. It is a small "mini-refinery" that the oil company has to make fuel for their own use at the oil wells in Southern Highlands. They have started sharing this with the rest of the Highlands, so more vehicles are running, and some stations have diesel to sell.

Keep praying that traffic will be restored soon. Please pray for the sick and injured who have not been able to come to the hospital

Yours and His
Andy

Bad News/Good News

The bad news was that she hadn't felt her baby move for several days. She was febrile, and weak, and had joint aches and headaches, classic symptoms of malaria. For reasons that aren't clearly understood, malaria affects pregnant women more severely than it affects others, and often causes miscarriages. My heart sank, as I'd experienced this scenario more times than I like to think. As I ushered her into the ultrasound room I prepared myself for the long, careful, painful search for the baby's unbeating heart, and prepared the words that I'd say to try to offer comfort.

The good news was that shortly after putting the ultrasound transducer on her tummy, I saw the tell-tale jumping and kicking of an alive, active fetus, and shortly after that found the beating heart. She didn't seem to understand much Pidgin, and her relative translated what I said for her. However, she didn't need translation of my expression of joy at seeing that the baby is alive and presumably well. She answered with a big smile.


The bad news was that he has been smoking pot for 8 years, and his dad's heart was breaking. Two days ago he had a brief psychotic episode, probably associated with either marijuana use or withdrawal. The family has left their traditional home, and are living in Mount Hagen, where there are plenty of bad influences. Apparently in seeking friends in this place, he choose the wrong ones.

The good news is that he let his dad pray with him, and he's determined stop using drugs. We talked about the things that could influence him back into his old ways, and what would help keep him on a good path. We talked about the importance of letting God direct his life. Please pray for this young man and his dad.


The bad news is that one of the largest landslides in recent years has destroyed a mile-long piece of the Highlands Highway. This is the only non-air route between the coast and the highlands. The main impact that this will have on us is that tanker trucks with diesel and gasoline, and container trucks with stock for the grocery stores won't be getting through for several months. Apparently the slide started high up on the mountain. A huge portion of the mountain, including several houses just slid down, carrying the highway with it.

The good news is abundant on this one. First, there was no loss of life--people in the houses just rode down the mountain. Second, we can still travel around our area if we need to, and if we have fuel for the vehicles (there won't be any unnecessary travel, I assure you). Third, we had some extra income this month, and Judy was able to stock up on groceries in a big way today. The shelves in the pantry are groaning under the weight! There was no cheese in town, but then again, there hasn't been any cheese in town for months. We had the last of the cheese on our tacos this evening. See? We're not suffering! Besides, Judy will be flying down to the coase in a couple of weeks, and she will bring a huge stock of cheese back. Finally, we've heard a rumor that they can put a temporary pipeline across the landslide, and tanker trucks on the other side can pump diesel or gasoline to tankers on our side. Sounds like a great solution to the problem to me! Now, if they could just find a way to pump groceries across!


The bad news is that during a recent power fluctuation our TV stopped working. Judy has said that it "blew up" but that's pretty dramatic. It just stopped working. We use that TV for watching DVDs and videos, and for watching the one broadcast channel that's available here. The cites have cable systems that have channels from the US and Australia, but elsewhere if you get any TV at all it is "EM-TV," a play on the Pidgin phrase that means "that's TV." The main thing we care about on it is the news. They also carry some locally-produced programs, and a few US or Australian programs. They broadcast hours and hours of rugby and cricket. When EM-TV finishes their scheduled broadcast for the day, they feed "Australia Network," the Land Down Under's answer to PBS. It has pretty good documentaries, international news and a few other programs. We catch a bit of that late at night, and on Saturday mornings.

The good news is that the repair place in Mount Hagen was able to make it work again, and for a very small fee! Not the most important thing in life, by any means, but it's nice to have.


The last item is just good news. No bad here. Our friends and colleagues the Dooleys are back. They had a good home assignment, but are back here, serving in many ways. Get some details, and see pictures of three of the loveliest little girls you'll ever hope to see anywhere, on their blog.

Photos:
#1 This isn't the Highlands Highway, but it's somewhere in the distance.
#2Andy on maternity ward
#3 Recent volunteer Dr. Kevin Raymer in Kundiawa, on the Highlands Highway and near the landslide
#4 I thought you'd all enjoy a spider picture

Monday In Paradise

The two concepts seem mutually exclusive to me--"Monday" and "paradise." I have never liked Mondays. In college I once wrote an essay proposing that Mondays be legally banned. I reasoned that if Congress could change the dates of dead presidents' birthdays, surely they could eliminate Monday. I suggested that the 24 hours thus left over each week could be used for other noble purposes, like last-minute study, or leisure time. I even suggested an account in which individuals would be allowed to save up a certain number of these hours for use later for vacation, or whatever they wanted.

In Kudjip, the Monday after being on call is the worst kind. Chances are that I've gotten even less sleep than usual, and what I got was probably of poor quality, knowing that the phone next to my head may ring at any moment. Sometimes, like today, I get called into the hospital early in the morning, which gets Monday off to a particularly bad start. This morning it was for a drunk guy who had been trying to tuck an illegal handgun into the waistband of his pants, and had managed to discharge it in the process. The bullet passed through a fold of skin, came back out and then re-entered his upper thigh, never to be seen again. It managed (apparently) to avoid any vital structures. I admitted him to the ward for observation and antibiotic treatment, but he left a few hours later, as soon as he'd sobered up.

Call hadn't been too busy, but in some ways it was a hard weekend. I'd made several trips in to try to help Godfrey, the little boy on bed A3. He'd come in for a simple-seeming gastroenteritis (you'd call it a "tummy bug") but quickly got sicker. He probably developed a condition called DIC (we don't have ways to prove it either way), which causes the body's clotting mechanisms to do all the wrong things--clot where no clots are needed, not clot where clots are needed. Two or three times he had gone into cardiopulmonary arrest, but had responded to the staff's CPR. His blood count was very low as he lost blood into his stomach and intestines. The transfusion I gave him Saturday did only brief, if any, good. Then Sunday evening I was called yet again. This time he rallied only briefly with CPR before his little heart gave up.

Usually you don't have to tell parents when their child has died--they can read it in your expression, in your sigh, in the way the frenetic activity which has been directed at the child suddenly stops. So Godfrey's mom and aunt had started to cry before the words were out of my mouth. I waited a few minutes, and then offered to pray with them. I prayed that confused, struggling prayer that I pray so often in this situation, affirming faith in a good God, and asking His comfort for this family. Apparently they had phoned his dad as well (we are now in the affordable cell phone era in PNG), because he was coming up the sidewalk when I left a few minutes later, crying as he came.

Then there was Titus, the man I'd prayed with Saturday morning on rounds. I had just forced myself to be honest with myself as well as with the patient, and admit that what he had I couldn't treat. I stopped the medicines that I knew were useless, and addressed spiritual issues with him, the issues that were now the only really important ones in his life.

I asked if he was ready to see God. He said that he was a pastor. I agreed that that is a good thing, but that hadn't been my question. I asked if he had repented of his sins and asked Jesus into his life. He assured me that he had. I asked him if he were actively following Jesus, and reminded him that he and I both knew plenty of pastors who are not. He, his wife and son all laughed nervously and agreed with me. He assured me that he was, indeed following Jesus.

I then prayed with him. I asked for relief from pain and suffering, I asked for peace for him and his family, for wisdom, for strength. Then I prayed that whatever happens to any of us, whether in life or in death, that we may bring some measure of glory to the God who made us, loves us and saves us. Titus, along with his wife and their son said a hearty "amen" to that prayer. Titus' body died that evening. Titus lives on.

Often I find that I think more about the ones who die than the ones who don't. I should maintain at least a little balance. While I was on call this weekend, I discharged about ten patients. They had all either recovered, or at least experienced adequate control of a chronic condition to allow ongoing care at home. They didn't die. They didn't even get worse! They got better, some completely well.

That's something that I should think about on Monday.

Yours and His,
Andy

Photos:
#1 Paradise
#2 A busy morning on the peds ward
#3 A happy mom and baby in the hospital