Lancaster to Zambia.....AND BACK

Earlier this year, I spent a few weeks in Zambia.  I was traveling with CURE, and working in one of their hospitals. Upon returning home, to say the least, I felt my time there was pointless, had not met my expectations, and was largely a failure. In the back of my mind I had always known I had a set of personal reasons for taking this trip. Perhaps I set out with selfish intentions, and that was the reason for the let down? I'm still unclear on that.
I do know that I wanted to put my skills to a truly good use.  Was it wise for me to think that way? I'm still unclear on that as well.
I do know I witnessed some extraordinary needs while in Zambia. I got to know a few people who wade through waist deep emotional turmoil on a daily basis trying to meet every need possible.
One night in-particular, I carried a very sick young boy off of an ambulance in the middle of the night. The look of being utterly lost and confused in his eyes is something I will never forget.
I also remember thinking, all I can do is carry him into the ward and hope for the best.
Not a very good feeling.

Fast forward a few months to right now and we are making our usual preparations for Thanksgiving. The news and internet are peppered with stories of refugees, war, death, and mongering of every possible variety. All of it got to me a bit and I decided to reach out and find a way to step into the fray in my community. As it turns out, Lancaster, PA has long had a reputation of stepping out in faith to help people newly immigrated to this country. Assuming I would be connected with families from Syria,(given the news lately) I asked my church where I might be of value. After a phone call or two, I was put in touch with some people who are just getting settled into the Lancaster area. To my surprise, they are from Zambia! I was told their eyes lit up at the prospect of meeting me, and of hearing I had some familiarity with their home country. Imagine that.....I have Zambia street cred!
Over the next two days, my family will meet and play host to almost 20 new faces and share Thanksgiving time with them.

So perhaps my time back in March was not spent in vein. Maybe it was all in place to make these folks feel comfortable sitting in my house for a few hours, in a strange new place very far from their home, If that is the case, then mission accomplished! I went halfway around the world hoping to meet some personal goals while being of service. Now it seems the real purpose may play out in homes barely 10 minutes from where I live. This is UPPER story stuff. The stuff we can't plan out or predict.
Realizing all this in the past few days reminded me of a promise I made back in March. I simply would not say "No" to any opportunity that was presented to me to be of service. 
I wish to continue to live that out, especially in my local community.

Me, Jack Nicholson, and Zambia

             

  My time with CURE in Zambia has come and gone. Trying to understand what I experienced there has been a frustrating process for me. I am glad I went and if I was given the opportunity to have similar experiences again, I would do so. But the questions have been coming from others and from myself.

What did you see? How do you feel? What did you learn? What did you do?

They seem simple enough questions, yet I can't seem to answer them with any ease. Nevertheless, I feel some obligation to tell the story as best I can. 

One morning, I spent time seeing patients in clinic. This is where new patients are seen, and patients who have already received treatment come for follow-up visits. Families bring their kids here from great distances, at great risk and expense. In many ways, it's a parade of equal parts hope and sadness.  One mom in particular needed to commit to several weeks in the hospital...right on the spot....in order to be available for the multiple procedures her son needed.

All I saw were problems. Her child needed several surgeries. She was far from home. She was alone. She likely had little to her name besides what I could see with her in that office. 

She nodded and affirmed that she was prepared for the commitment, and would drastically alter her life starting right now for the foreseeable future. 

I get paid to be in hospitals, and I run home at the end of the day. She was deciding to LIVE in one until further notice. I was stunned at her resolve. I was humiliated by her confidence. I asked her..."Are you happy?" She smiled and said yes, and I took this photo.
                                                                       

 When she left the office the doc saw I was having a hard time maintaining my composure. He put the next patient on hold and closed the door to talk with me. He asked me how I felt and why I was moved by this seemingly ordinary (at least in this environment) patient. I'm not sure how it came to be that he told me the story I am about to tell you. Perhaps it was to give me added perspective on the lives of his patients. 

On a previous occasion, another mom came to see him. Her child also needed care that would take place at the hospital over the course of many weeks. That mom also agreed to drastically alter her life at a moment's notice for the good of her child. Sometime during her stay at the hospital she took a trip back home to check on the well being of her other five young children. When she arrived back at the village, her children were gone. Gone. No explanation.  No chance of locating them. No way to tell when, why, or how they had disappeared. 

The doctor barely got through the story without crying himself. In some twisted way, I found relief in seeing him struggle. 

Something simple and stark occurred to me right then and there. These docs and staff members have either the best job in the world, or the worst. They are able to bring hope to people who would not otherwise have it. They do so with no strings attached. They do so with no ulterior motives. However, they do so while living through stories where children go missing in the process. A reality, I was told, that is far from uncommon.

I thought I would find a new way of living in Zambia. A new paradigm and understanding for life that my family could live by. All I found were more questions. More questions than answers. A reality...a truth...I'm having a hard time handling.

One thing is certain. The answers won't be found in any surgery, or any prescription pad.

                                                                                                                           

The Missionary Position

Shamus....."I'm going to Zambia"

Person......."That's great!"

Person......"Wait. Where is Zambia and why are you going there"

Shamus......"I'm traveling with an organization that does charitable orthopedic surgery"

Person......." O, you mean a missions trip"

Shamus......."I guess?"

One way or another, almost every conversation I've had lately, ends up repeating this pattern. Allow me to be clear: I ain't no missionary.

I have found it amusing how people have instinctively classified my trip as a missions trip. Honestly, that phrase or thought never entered my mind when I committed to this trip.

                                                                   

                                           

                                                       Does that sound like me?

I don't believe God needs me to go to Zambia. I don't even think CURE needs me in Zambia.

They are both there already, have been for some time, and are doing a bang up job without me.

So then the question must be, why go? The answer for me, is painfully simple to the point of not making any sense.

The Answer: I am supposed to go. 

I have only experienced certainty like this one other time in my life. When we made our move from NYC to Lancaster, we were guided by things that are not of this world. Timing fell into place, jobs were made available, houses were bought and sold in perfect rhythm. To look back on that moment, had that specific job not been there for me, giving me this set of skills, there would be no Zambia trip to write about. When you experience things like this in life you don't ask questions. You just go. You do as you know you are meant to do. Some may call it fate. Some call it karma or good luck. Personally, all of those things are way too vague and leave far too much for me to mess up. I call it faith. Faith that my Creator has plans that should be carried out. Faith that my Creator is intentional. Faith that knows sometimes the smallest decisions matter most.

About two weeks ago I watched this eagle lay an egg via a live feed on the internet.

(not far from my house!)

This was a real time example of how purposeful life is.

Three years ago my dad brought this fish into the boat and I was privileged to hold it for a few seconds. You learn to appreciate the might of creation very quickly while holding something as magnificent as this.   

I believe these lives are created purposefully. They should be cared for and respected.

Doesn't the same hold true for the lives in this video?

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     from CURE Video on Vimeo.

It just so happens I know enough to participate in the procedure shown in this video. 

This does not make me better then you or smarter then you. It definitely does not make me a missionary.

Next time you see someone in need and your abilities can impact their life for the better, jump in.

Let's all not be missionaries together.

Africa Is God's Country.....

.....And He can have it! (GM)

He can have it, but I'm going to rent it for about 30 days real soon.
Its been a bizarre time for me since I last posted here. There has been a great deal on my mind and being quiet is not a skill I have mastered, nor am I interested in doing so.
There are many things I could write about retrospectively, since my last post. Some of them funny, some sad. Maybe a few scary or depressing. I'm sure there is even an adventure or two in there. The topic I have chosen for my return has a little bit of all to offer.

Last Mother's Day, I sat in a gathering at LCBC like I do most weekends. Unlike other church environments, LCBC is quite unpredictable. Yet, if you go there long enough you can sometimes tell when their intention is to beat you with an emotional sledgehammer. This was one such morning.
On this particular day, Kris was out of town on business and Aiden had chosen to sit beside me in the main gathering rather than attend his age appropriate haunt. One thing led to another and I can tell there is about to be a beat down, LCBC style. This video shows what followed. Don't chicken out or tell me you don't have time for it! It's seven freakin' minutes and if I had to sit through it....so do you.

Knowing enough about Orthopedic Surgery to be dangerous, it was easy for me to recognize many of

the issues CURE worked with were of an Orthopedic nature.
For several years, my reason (excuse) for walking away from these kinds of presentations was simple. I had no emotional connection to the type of work being done, clinically speaking. But here was something right in my wheel house. Orthopedics. I could not stop crying, and I could not look away.

It was Sunday but I called the office number for Cure anyway, located just outside Harrisburg (go figure). They returned my phone call the same day. A Sunday. A holiday weekend.

From there on out things just kept happening that gave me the green light to travel. Far too many details lined up for this to be a coincidence. The last time I experienced this many green lights was when we moved from NYC to Lancaster PA. Back then, things happened that were not of our doing. Our life took shape in a way we surely could not have manufactured on our own. When these kinds of things happen, you get on board, you don't ask questions. Circumstances spin wonderfully out of control and the right thing to do simply becomes known to you.

There are many more details than I can go into right now. Perhaps I can add to this story as it continues to take shape. I will also fill in some of the blanks that have gotten me to this point. 

I am hopeful that this adventure is merely just the beginning of significant change that points me and my family towards the further pursuit of real value, in this world of so much misdirection.  

My promise is to not say "no".

This is a link to a page CURE has set up for me. From there you can read about the work in Zambia, specifically.  If you are inclined to donate financially or otherwise, you can also do so from this page.

More than anything else, I value conversation about this topic. To that end, kindly pass this information along to people of value in your life so there can be enough dialogue to go around. I fully believe that when good people talk with one another about topics of significance, great things happen.
I don't use Facebook, and I don't understand Twitter, but if you do, feel free to pass this around.