Extreme Makeover: Pokarumb

Each time we passed the Pokarumb church on the way to town we noticed how rundown the building looked but we understood that the cost of a gallon of paint is roughly equivalent to 5 months of a pastor's salary ($80 US!). 

Pokarumb was the third church started in PNG.  Syndey Knox, the pioneer missionary, worked to build a building for them to worship in, in 1957. Its land has unfortunately been at the center of some terrible tribal fighting over the past 6 months.  The lay pastor, Pastor Elis, tells the story of being "hands upim" (held at gunpoint) with M-16s in the front yard of the church.   The enemy line cut down the huge old trees surrounding the building, stole windows from the church and tried to destroy the sign.  She pleaded with them not to destroy the parsonage and they left it standing, after taking everything from inside.  The house of the retired pastor was dismantled and taken.

The fighting is over now.   17 men were killed on both sides.  The church almost died also.  It went from a sanctuary full of men and women to 7 faithful women.  The men had to flee the land to save their lives.

The faithful few prayed that the Lord would help them to fix the church building.  They felt it would be a new start for the small group of believers.  The next day Jonathan, Sam and I talked with them about coming to help!  How sweet the Lord is!

We, along with a team of MKs and volunteers, spent a Saturday painting, repairing, installing new window glass and having our own tribal war with 2 hives of bees (they eventually lost but left wounds on many of us!).  A group of us went the next to day to worship with them.  What a privilege it was to encourage this small group of brothers and sisters in the Lord.  We took two special pictures--one of mostly women who had stayed during the fighting and one of young men who had fled and now returned home.

JB

For an album of photos and captions that go with this story, click here.

Being Used by God

It was a routine clinic visit.  A teenage boy, accompanied by his mom.  His problem is a little unusual, a bone infection in his jaw.  Oh, bone infections are NOT unusual here.  They are common in the long bones of the leg, but not in the jaw.  So that I can use some shorthand, I'll explain that the official name for bone infection is "osteomyelitis" and that doctors usually shorten this to "osteo."  It is a difficult and frustrating problem, requiring months of treatment with antibiotics and usually surgery, which must be timed properly.  If surgery is done too soon, the dead part of the bone may not be separated from the growing, living bone.  If it is delayed too long, there is increased deformity of the bone, and potentially, spread to additional areas.

So it is necessary to review the status of osteo every few weeks, checking xrays to see how the bone changes are progressing, and blood tests that help to assess the severity of the infection.  We change antibiotics every 2 to 3 weeks to try to avoid the development of resistance to the ones we have.  Patients often don't understand why they have to come back so often.  They often do not see much change during this time, and sometimes just give up, and stop coming.  Then many times the infection spreads, and things get much worse.  It is helpful when we can explain some of the whys and hows of this disease.

But honestly, we often don't explain, for many reasons.  Sometimes there are things that I just can't explain well in Pidgin.  Often we are pressed for time.  Since patients often see different doctors each time they come, and it's easy to assume that one of the previous doctors explained.

So this boy (I'll call him "Michael") has been coming faithfully every two weeks for xrays, blood tests and adjustments in his medications.  Today was the first time I've seen him, although I've know about him from conversations with the other docs.  For some reason I felt the need today to stop and explain in some detail about osteo.  I launched into my "didactic mode", drew diagrams and sketches.  Somehow the Pidgin that I needed flowed easily.  The mom is a bright lady.  I have no idea how educated she is.  I could tell, from the expressions on her face, and from her comments and questions that she was understanding what I was explaining.

But here is why I'm even telling you this story at all.  At the end of my lecture, Michael's mom said, "Yesterday I was praying.  I prayed like this: 'God, tomorrow I'm taking Michael back to the hospital.  I don't understand what's going on with him, why we have to go back so often but see so little progress.  Please, let the doctor explain this disease to me tomorrow.'"

Wow.  How humbling, but how exciting that I got to participate in an answer to this dear lady's prayer.  I realized that the Holy Spirit had prompted me to give the explanation.  It was at the end of the day, and I was tired, and anxious to get home.  It would have been easy to prescribe the new meds, and tell them to come back in 2 weeks.

Before Michael and his mom left, I prayed with them.  I prayed for wisdom, understanding and patience for them.  I prayed for healing for Michael's osteo.  I prayed for Michael's education and future.  I thanked God for all his blessings.

One of the big blessings for me is the privilege of participating in what God is doing in His world, of being a character in His play, a worker on His crew, a tool in His toolbox.  Today it was a blessing to get to be part of the answer to a dear saint's prayer.

The photo is of some happy kids playing in a beautiful river.  They don't have osteo, at least not yet.

AB

Surprise!

A pig was squealing in the middle of the night in Kawi village.  An unusual occurence that awoke our friend, Meti.  She thought perhaps a thief was stealing it.  She didn't have a pig and there was nothing she could do so she went back to sleep.

This was the night before Mother's Day.  The women of the Kawi Church of the Nazarene didn't know it but the men of the church were preparing a mumu feast to honor them!  Pastor James had recruited even the non-Christian husbands of some of the women who attend the church. They had secretly bought a large pig, hiding it in someone's car so the women wouldn't know about it. All night the men worked, first killing and butchering the pig - traditionally a man's job - and then cutting and peeling a huge pile of vegetables - a woman's job. 

The next morning, the ladies of the church were greeted with a beautiful banner that said "Happy Mother's Day!  We love you Mumma. You are our heart!".  The men entered singing a welcome song and showered the women with flower petals.  Pastor James spoke using the passage from Genesis 1:27.  He talked about how we must honor our mothers and our wives.  We must never call them names or hit them.  We must share the workload with them.  We can wash clothes.  We can change the baby.  We can cook food and wash dishes.  If you've shown disrespect to your mother or wife, you must say you are sorry to them. 

Pastor James said, "Look at me.  See my head, arms and legs.  Now look at this woman.  We are the same.  God created us equal.  A mother is even better than a man because she can grow a child inside her body!". 

At the end of the service, the men insisted that the women come and look at the mumu.  I think they wanted their approval!  Then the women went back inside the church where they were served first and ate until they were full.  The men ate outside with the children.

In a culture where women are mistreated and devalued, what these men did was an amazing thing.  Many of these women have never felt this special since the day they were bought by their husbands.

As this wonderful time was ending, the women told the men "Don't worry.  Father's Day is coming!". 

JB

The Last Man Before the Animals

Those of you who heard the presentation that we gave during our 2007 furlough, and a few times during the 2009 furlough might remember Old John, who lived at a place that our friend Meti referred to as "the last place before the animals".  In other words, his home was so remote, that there were no more people living beyond it.  Because of the kindness of Meti, and other members of the Kawi Church of the Nazarene, John's life was saved, and he came to know Jesus as his savior.

He eventually settled into a house in the village, and we hadn't heard much from him for a long time.  Last Sunday Judy took a group of people to Kawi for the Sunday service.  While out on the road with Meti, they met John and visited briefly.  He seems to be doing well, but there wasn't a chance to talk much.

AB

Apa

I didn't know how one life could contain so much heartbreak.

He was born with deformed hands.  His left hand has a normal thumb and one finger.   His right hand has a thumb and 3 fused fingers.  Somehow, he seems to be able to handle things and do basic sorts of work.

Although raised in the church, he had never asked Jesus into his life.  He followed a life of crime.

By about 2 years ago, he was married and had 3 children.  As the only son in his family, he had inherited a large piece of land, and felt pretty well set.

Then one rainy night, he was walking along a familiar path near a river with his 4 year-old son on his shoulders.  He was depending on his knowledge of the route, along with the dim moonlight of an overcast night.  What he didn't know, and couldn't see, was that there was a place where the heavy rains had washed a section of the path into the stream.  He stepped off into the washed-out section and fell and tumbled into the river.  He grasped his son's leg with his left hand, but his arm struck a stone, which loosened his grip.  They both plunged into the cold, rain-swollen water.  He was disoriented at first--perhaps he also struck his head in the fall.  In the swirling water he heard a voice saying, "give your life to Jesus."  The words were repeated 2 times.  There in the blackness, he gave his life to Jesus.  Quickly his mind cleared, and he was able to lunge to the surface of the water.

Apa called his son's name, and thrashed around in the water trying to find his son, but to no avail.  It was not until 3 days later that the little boy's body was found, some distance downstream.

Sometime after this, his wife's family came and took her away from Apa.  He had not paid any bride price at the time of the marriage, and because he couldn't work for wages (no one would hire him because of his had deformities), and because he didn't have any brothers or other close relatives to help him, he had not been able to pay, and her family had allowed him to postpone payment.  But now their patience was at an end.  Besides, they accused him of killing his son.  If they were serious about this accusation, I don't know why they didn't try to take the other children away from him, but they didn't.

He was recently able to get a job as a security guard at the hospital, and thing were looking up.  He assumed that if he could save up some money to pay bride price, he would get his wife back.  A friend even offered a generous gift to help with the bride price.  But then it became obvious that she did not want to come back to him.  There were rumors that she had moved in with another man.  Then she went to his employer with false accusations that lead to the loss of his job.

A few weeks ago, it became obvious that some of Apa's cousins were determined to take his land away from him.  His coffee gardens were about his only source of income.  Because there were many male cousins to divide their family's land, they didn't have much for each one of them.  They told Apa that they wanted the land.  However, Apa's mother was living on the land, and she had enough influence in the tribe to make it difficult for them.

Last week, Apa's relatives accused his mother of using sorcery to cause the death of another relative.  In many deaths, especially ones that aren't understood, it is assumed that sorcery is involved.  It is culturally acceptable to take revenge on sorcerers, and the sorcerer's family has no right of counter revenge.  It therefore becomes convenient to bring an accusation of sorcery against someone whom one wants to hurt or kill.  So the cousins accused Apa's mother of sorcery.  They found her in the market, with Apa's 2 children.  They attacked her and killed her.

They apparently intended to kill the children as well.  The little girl was left on the ground unconscious, and assumed dead.  The little boy got lost in the crowd, and was rescued by a female relative, who hid him under her coat.  The murderers carried the body of Apa's mother away, and buried her in a location that is unknown to Apa, to deny him of the ability to hold a proper funeral and burial for her.  After the murderers left, someone noted that the little girl was still breathing, and she was brought to the hospital, where she recovered.  Both children are now safe with other relatives.


Finally, the relatives have burned Apa's house, along with all his possessions.  The items he mentioned specifically that were lost were his Bibles.

He came to the house Sunday afternoon, along with Simon and Esther, mutual friends.  We had known bits and pieces of his story, but not many of the details.  Obviously, most of what has happened to Apa can't be fixed, but we are going to try to help with a few things.  Judy had a new Bible which had not yet started "feeling like mine", and she gave it to him.  I know someone who can talk to his former boss to see if there is a possibility of getting the job back, and I have shared the story with him.  Apa has been given a little cash to help with immediate expenses.  Most of all, we are requesting your prayers for him.

AB

Late note:  Apa may be getting his job back.  His wife, who works at the hospital will probably be reprimanded for lying to the security company and getting him fired, and if he doesn't get the gob back, she will probably be fired.  A tiny shred of justice in this painful situation.

Alfie

I have written before about my work with kids affected by Congenital Talipes Equinovarus, commonly known as clubfoot.  This is Alfie.  He has clubfoot, but you wouldn't know it now.  He is four years old, much older than what is commonly considered to be treatable by non-surgical methods.  Until the day that these photos were taken, he had never stood using the soles of his feet.  Because of the birth defect, his feet were turned under so severely that he had learned to walk on what would ordinarily be the tops of his feet.

He comes from a remote part of the Southern Highlands Province of PNG.  His dad used all the money he had to bring Alfie to Kudjip, because he heard that there was someone here who could help his son.  However, he came not knowing that the treatment process takes many weeks.  He did not have anywhere to stay, and very little money for food.  Certainly, traveling back and forth every week was out of the question.  He was hoping that Alfie would be admitted to the hospital, or perhaps the problem could be corrected in a short time.

At the time they first came, our TB ward had only a few patients, and they all had been on treatment for a long time, so that they were not contagious.  I asked our hospital administrator, and received permission to allow Alfie and his dad to stay there for as long as it would take to complete his treatment.  As it turned out, on the first day they were here, they met someone they knew (probably a relative or an in-law) from back home, who now lives about an hour's walk from the hospital, and who invited them to stay there.

So treatment of Alfie's clubfoot began.  Many children his age are afraid of white people, are afraid of doctors, and afraid of loud machines.  Yet week after week Alfie would lay calmly on the treatment table while this white doctor would cut his casts off with a power cast saw, and would cooperate as I stretched the tight ligaments in his feet and placed them in new casts.  I was excited to see how quickly his feet responded to the treatment.  The callouses that had formed on the tops of his feet from walking on them were starting to soften.  After just 5 weeks the feet were turned right-side-up, and were ready for a minor operation to lengthen his Achilles' tendons, so his feet wouldn't point down.

The final stage in the treatment process is to wear a splint to maintain the position of the feet.  They wear it full-time for a few weeks, then at night for months or a few years if possible afterward.  I have managed to build my own splints.  They don't look high-tech, but they are quite functional.  I usually

use baby shoes that come from the US, which I attach to a piece of plywood with up-turned ends.  But Alfie is much bigger than most of the kids I treat.  None of the shoes in my stock are nearly big enough for him.  So, in the two weeks after his tendon-lengthening operation, I managed to get into Mount Hagen to shop for some shoes.  I found exactly 1 pair that were his size, stout and stiff, as I need for the splints.

So last week Alfie came for his final visit.  I removed the casts that had been on his feet for the two weeks after the tendon operation.  My heart was pounding as I picked him up off the treatment table and gave him a big hug.  Then I knelt down and gently lowered him to the floor.  I knew that after 7 weeks in casts his legs would be too weak to hold him up, so I held onto him as I lowered his feet to the floor.  (I'm crying now, as I try to type this!) With me supporting his weight, Alfie stood on the soles of his feet for the first time in his life!

I assembled the splint, using the shoes that I'd bought in Mount Hagen.  These were the first shoes that Alfie had ever worn!  At this stage I ordinarily ask the parents to bring the child back after 2 weeks, then every few weeks so I can check the feet, and repair or replace broken or outgrown splints.  This time I knew that it would be very hard for Alfie's dad to bring him back.  I instructed him as best I could, and encouraged him to come back after a few weeks if at all possible.  Then I prayed with this dedicated dad and patient calm little boy, and said "good-bye".  I hope I can see them again.

AB

General Superintendent Visits Talipes Clinic

Here at Kudjip, we get a visit from a General Superintendent about once a year.  They always have a lot to do, meetings, problem solving, conducting district assemblies, etc., so they don't have much time on their hands.  So for one of them to take the time to tour the hospital, and then to stop and take in interest in what I'm doing was a little surprising.

A few weeks ago, we had our annual visit from a GS, this time Dr. Jerry Porter.  In my experience, the GSs that I've gotten to know at all have all been humble, gentle men and women, not self-important or arrogant at all.  For those of you who aren't Nazarenes, there are six GSs, each elected for a four-year term.  They divide the world up, and take turns being responsible for each part, two years at a time.

Dr. Porter took a tour of the new hospital--he's the first GS to visit since we moved in.  They did the tour on Thursday which is the day when I have my talipes (club-foot) clinic.  Dr. Porter stopped, watched me casting a kiddo's foot and asked questions.  When I saw him again at a meeting that evening, he commented that he had Googled talipes, and read up about it.  He asked a few questions about my work.

Finally, I can't resist adding a photo of Dr. Porter holding Noah Riggins.  He and Noah seemed to like each other--I think Dr. Porter  was missing his own grandkids.

AB