I Left My Appendix in Haiti

REAL QUICK: I do apologize for the lack of blog posts. I could show you several posts I started but never finished since the last post and those may be finished and posted at some point, but God has really been growing me and showing me things the past months that I've had to really mull over and discern what He's saying and what certain things mean to me (not fun growing up is it ;) ) so here is a brief update on what is going on right now in Hope's story:

A week ago Saturday, the 19th, I had an appendectomy around 3am in one of Port-Au-Prince's finest hospitals... I suppose you want a little more information than that ;) I spent Friday at our staff Christmas party enjoying the beach and everything it has to offer. I felt great. Laughed a lot, slept, swam, ate and tried not to cry as they presented me with a beautiful present and I said goodbye to these lovely Haitian ladies for a time.

7:00 pm (times are not exact)
Got home from the beach and started to have a little pain in my side. Felt like a stitch, told my director but since I'd had a large meal I ruled it out as gas. But it just got worse from there.
9:00 pm
Took a shower, hoping that would ease the pain, now I couldn't stand up straight. Laid in bed hoping that the pain would stop.
10:30 pm
I started messaging my mom as I was worried it was something serious and she confirmed my fears that it could be appendicitis and encouraged me to get Shelley
1100 pm
I tried to get up to get my director but suddenly the pain worsened and I found it extremely hard to breathe and began moaning in pain. I woke up the other girls in my room and my friend, Sarah, raced to get Shelley while her oldest daughter, Chelsey, sat with me. Shelley came in and instantly knew it was serious and that we needed to head to the hospital ASAP when she tried to get me to stand but I couldn't.
11:30 pm
Chelsea sat with me, placing a warm towel on my side as I gritted my teeth and tried not to scream. Sarah grabbed the trash can as I started to feel nauseous and found my shoes. Through gritted teeth and wet eyes I told them I didn't want to go anywhere. It was late and everyone needed to sleep but my appendix had other plans and Shelley and Byron knew better. Byron carried me down the stairs and I laid down in the back seat of the truck as we headed out. The ride was the longest and bumpiest ride of my life and I tried to be quiet and just focus on breathing but little moans and screams kept slipping through.
12:00 am
They wheeled me into the ER and I shut my eyes as blood soaked bandages on a young man were the first thing I saw. I felt guilty. These people needed more attention and were probably in more serious condition and here was this young white woman. I prayed it was something simple that they could give me something for and I could head home and be out of every one's hair. A woman doctor came over examined me and had a nurse draw blood. She thought it was either appendicitis or a kidney stone. "Kidney stone, kidney stone.... kidney stone I can pass" I prayed over and over.
1am
Shelley stayed by my side as I worried and prayed and worried some more. The doctor came back saying that the blood results were in and they would be prepping me for surgery. They'd called the surgeon and when he arrived we'd start. I couldn't hold back the tears as everything started racing through my head: money, recovery time, surgery, hospital stay, etc. Shelley comforted me, prayed with me and got my mom on the phone to comfort and pray with me as well.
2:00 am
I was feeling better... and I hoped that maybe they were wrong. However, when the surgeon came in and pressed on the right spot, I screamed like a little girl. I started to shake and a couple tears made their way down my cheeks. "What would you like?" he asked. "Honestly? I'd like it to be a kidney stone and to go home." He chuckled, gave his apologies and said he'd see me in surgery. Yay! On the positive side, we all felt relieved at the fact that he knew exactly where to press to make sure it was the appendix.
3:00 am
They wheeled me down to the pre-op, Shelley helped me into the papery yellow gown and cap and then it was time. They wheeled me into the operating room which from the ceiling looked an awfully lot like the basement of my old house (Byron and Shelley though, saw the whole room and were very impressed). The nurses were all very nice as they asked questions, trying to get my mind off the surgery. The anesthesiologist asked if I was ready to begin and suddenly I had this strange sensation like someone was sitting on my chest and my lips began to burn, I tried to tell her that it hurt but I couldn't speak, only make weird sounds "OK honey, breathe through this" she replied to my moaning and placed the mask over my nose "just breathe" and everything fell away.

After this I don't know what time anything took place.

I woke up, back in pre-op which I'm guessing doubled as post-op. I was in pain, groggy, my mouth felt extremely dry and I wasn't really sure what was going on. I could hear Shelley talking and then heard my friend Sarah's voice. That's when I opened my eyes and looked for them. They stood right outside my little "cubicle" and were talking with the nurses "Hey, how you feeling?" Shelley asked. While I don't remember talking, I'm guessing I did and told her that my mouth was dry and I was in a lot of pain. She asked if they could give me something for the pain and water. The nurses said I couldn't have water until 3:00 and I'd already had a milliliter of morphine a couple hours earlier. Shelley fought for me though and the surgeon came in to check on me. I remember him saying everything went well and asking if I was in pain. He let me have another milliliter of morphine and that I could have water. The nurse stuck to what he'd written on the paper and reminded him that I wasn't supposed to have any water for another half hour. I think Shelley said goodbye after this and headed home to get some much needed rest. Sarah stayed by my side and had brought my ipod and headphones (God bless her) so I turned on some Andrew Peterson and with the help of morphine, I fell back asleep.

I don't know how much time had passed but I woke up again and the nurse wanted to take out the catheter and move me to a private room. Once she finished, they sat me up and I immediately had a huge wave of nausea. I did not want to throw up as I knew that would hurt and I probably would have to stay in post-op longer. I dry heaved a couple times (which hurt enough to actually be puke) but I was finally (probably wasn't very long but felt like forever) able to have a small glass of water that I sipped down. I've found water really does refresh and restore a person more than anything else. Just like Jesus ;)

Shortly after that we found that in Haiti, you need to bring your own sheets as the nurses asked Sarah several times whether we had any or were going to bring any so they could move me to the new room. I told them I didn't need new sheets and the ones I were on were fine (I really wanted to get out of there and I felt like they were fine) they looked at me like I was insane but ok'd it and they lowered me back down and wheeled me to a private room as Byron came in.

It's funny the perspective you have when all you see is the ceiling - it felt like they were wheeling me down back alleys, behind the buildings, over the hill, across the river... just kidding but it did feel like I was being stashed away somewhere. We got to the private room which was actually very nice. It was a pretty Irish green, had it's own bathroom and was pretty big. They lifted me (and the sheets) onto another bed that reminded me of a massage table, minus the headrest. The top didn't raise so they propped it up with the bottles for my IV. I was cold so the sweet nurse got me another blanket and I was out again.

I was in and out after this. My times are all messed up but I think during this time I had a high fever and my nurse began placing cold compresses on my face and chest... very cold. But it helped bring my fever down.

I woke up, groggy and wishing that I hadn't woken up. Sarah encouraged me to drink and since all I wanted to do was go back to sleep, I guzzled water... not a good idea. It came back up and dear Sarah rushed to find something for me to throw up in (not only do you need to bring your own sheets but also your own toilet paper, washcloths, water, food etc. which really isn't surprising but it caught us off guard). I beat her though, trying to hit the floor to save the sheets (make it easier to clean up) but I wasn't quite fast enough though and the sheets were not saved. Sarah found something (I really don't know what it was) for me to throw up in and I did get some into that. You know you have an amazing friend when they stay by your side (though you're basically unconscious the majority of the time), with no lunch or wifi, is willing to fight off the nurses for you (the nurse really wanted to give me a bath), cleans up your vomit and makes jokes about it! "Well, I know what you ate yesterday!" She was truly a Godsend and I'll always be thankful for her and her sacrifice as this is not how either of us wanted to spend our last weekend in Haiti.

The first woman doctor from the ER the night/morning before came in to check on me and Sarah explained to her that I'd thrown up. She asked why and I explained that I had guzzled too much water but I actually felt a lot better since throwing up. She was satisfied that everything was ok and said to keep drinking water and if I felt better later I could drink some 7Up. I think I fell back asleep but when I woke up I felt much much better! Sarah helped me get some clothes on, sit up and walk to the bathroom. This all took awhile but it was huge progress and I wanted to go home. I was awake for awhile after all of that so Sarah filled me in on a number of things, one being that they had put my appendix in a jar and Byron had taken it home for everyone to see! Haha - one of my Haiti siblings asked if I'd taken it out myself! :p

The rest of the day is a little fuzzy. Shelley and Byron came back with all the essentials and Shelley stayed by my side. There was also this weird black sticker on my forehead that took my temperature I believe; but it made me feel like a weird alien and we all made jokes about it. I don't remember the rest of the evening.

3:30 am Sunday
I woke up to sharp pain in my left arm, where the IV was. There was always a burning sensation when the nurse changed the IV bag or made the drip faster or slower, but this was much worse. I was on my left side so my arm was kind of hidden from the nurse, I raised it and to my horror saw that it had swelled about the size of a tennis ball, I was groggy but tapped the nurse and drew her attention to my arm. I'd blown a vein. She took care of it and to my dismay had to stick me again, this time she got it the first try which was the grace of God. I was in a lot of pain, she gave me a shot of what we figured out was basically liquid ibuprofen in my right arm "Yikes that's gonna bruise!" I thought. The pain continued to grow however and soon I felt like I couldn't breathe. They sat me up but the pain was so intense I just sat on the edge of my bed trying to breathe through the pain. Shelley and the nurse were both concerned and the nurse ran to get a doctor. An American doctor, who was working in the ER, came in and checked me. I was in so much pain I couldn't look up at his face or anything. He said I could have 2 milliliters of morphine since I hadn't had any since 10 am the day before. I hope I thanked him but I honestly don't remember. The pain lessened and I was able to use the restroom but the thought of getting back onto the high bed was not appealing. Shelley and the nurse got me a chair and I rested my head on a pillow at the end of the bed and slept there for awhile.

Sunday came, my Haiti siblings and I were supposed to lead worship that day and it was going to be our "big finale" as I was heading home and one of our "foster brothers" was headed to the states as well. Sadly, I was not able to make it but I know they did a fantastic job as always :) The morning is kind of fuzzy... the doctors wanted me to be up moving around if I could because they didn't want blood clots to form and actually I found sitting in the little office chair in the room was more comfortable and I didn't have to work so hard to get up and down as the fluids seemed to be running straight through.

We'd been told that the doctor who performed my surgery would be in at 9 am that morning but 9 am passed and another doctor came in, checked me and said that while yes, I was doing very well, only the doctor that did my surgery could release me and he hadn't come in, but he was probably at church and would come in later. My back was killing me as I had to "try" and use it instead of my stomach muscles which was next to impossible but it was definitely getting a workout. Shelley braided my hair for me, massaged my back and got my mind of the pain as we talked about life and the preschool. She also got me to walk around the room a couple times which was big progress. I was also supposed to be drinking juice and Sarah had bought some mango nectar from a merchant outside of the hospital gates. Shelley gave it to me in capfuls from my water bottle lid. It was sweet but was more filling than water.

Through all of this I felt God's peace surrounded me, could hear Him telling me it would all be ok and He wasn't going to leave me or take me home yet. Though there were moments I didn't trust Him or tears of fear escaped, He was always there encouraging me.

Byron, Sarah, Chelsea and Pastor Louis (a Haitian pastor from Chicago who works with Byron and Shelley off and on) came after church to check on us and brought coffee for Shelley and chicken soup for me. Something I have learned in my two years with Maranatha Children's Ministries is to laugh, no matter what and this crew got me chuckling and smiling, I tried really hard not to laugh as it hurt the incision but laughter really is the best medicine :) We took several walks, Sarah as my human crutch and Chelsey and Shelley taking turns holding my IV bag (the pole didn't roll) and opening doors. I found that contrary to my previous thoughts, we weren't very far from the main gate and the ER. Walking felt good. I couldn't go that far on my own and it was exhausting but it was very good as my muscles would get tired and ache if left in one position for too long (Thanks c-virus). We got back to the room and Shelley poured me a cup of chicken soup from the coffee carafe that had been keeping it warm, however, despite being washed very thoroughly, the soup tasted and smelled like old coffee and chicken soup which was very confusing to my senses and wasn't the nicest to drink. But slowly and with the "encouragement" ;) of Shelley, I think I finished the cup or almost and then drank as much of the mango nectar as I could without feeling nauseous.

The pain started to get bad again and the American doctor from earlier that morning came back in. This time I was able to talk to him and thank him as he again proscribed 2 milliliters of morphine. I don't know why the nurse was stingy with the morphine. I'm guessing they don't have a large supply or they think I'm an addict :p But I tried to not ask for anything until it got worse which apparently isn't a smart thing to do. We walked around some more and the pastor from the church we attend came while we were out on a walk. He prayed over me and I headed back to my room to sleep for awhile. I don't remember much after that. My sweet nurse had been working over 30 hours and her replacement was late. Though she really wanted to give me a bath (I told her I'd had one right before I came to the hospital and was fine) and she messed with the IV probably every hour without fail, she was very sweet and when her replacement finally came at some point that evening, she woke me up very gently, peeked under the covers that I had over my head, as I was freezing, and said "I have to go now but I will see you tomorrow morning at 6, ok cheri?" I nodded "ok goodnight, cheri - God bless" and I was asleep again.

 I knew my mom was flying in and I wanted to be out of the hospital by the time she came but I knew if I wasn't, she'd get me out. Sure enough, mom flew in looking dazzling (I don't know how she does it) though she'd flown home from Haiti on Thursday morning, done prenatals, delivered a baby and flew back to Haiti on Sunday morning. She went and found the directors of the hospital, twin Haitian brothers, talked to them about how she is a midwife and a health care professional and she knows that though it is against hospital policy she wanted them to release me into her care. They agreed to come check me and see what they could do.

They came in and asked me to get into the bed so they could check me. Now prior to this, getting into bed meant me sitting on the edge for a while, breathing and waiting for the pain to subside and then being lowered down onto the bed where I felt like someone was crushing my chest in their hands and I'd struggle to breathe for awhile before being "ok" and moving up to the head of the bed. I said a silent prayer and God wrapped me up in His arms and lifted me into that bed with little pain! The doctors checked me, said I had a fever but overall if mom was willing to accept responsibility, they would release me into her care. Joy! Thank you, Jesus! Checking out was a process as you can imagine but around 10 pm (I think), Bryon was pulling the truck inside and I gingerly climbed in, surrounded by pillows.

The ride home was rough but not nearly as rough as the ride to the hospital and once again, I found that the hospital wasn't nearly as far away as I thought it had been. We got home, I said hello to my Haiti siblings and Sarah as she flew out early Monday morning and I didn't know if I would be conscious, and then tried to get some sleep. It was a long night. I got up several times to use the bathroom and tried several different positions but lying down hurt way too much.

Monday morning was rough - mom massaged my aching back and one of my Haiti brothers got me a chair to sit in which I found was very comfortable! Byron had found the meds prescribed by the doctors and I started taking them. Quickly, after taking one of the pills, I got super nauseous so mom had me eat some bread and mangoes to settle my stomach which was rough but they did help and if you didn't know this mangoes and papaya seed are natural laxatives so everything started moving which as you may or may not know is critical to the healing process.

We had a flight out early Tuesday morning so I did my best to relax as much as possible. I had nothing packed as I thought I would have the weekend to do that. Silly me, thinking things would go as planned ;) Around 1:30, I began to climb the staircase to go up to my room. One of my Haiti siblings, Joe (14) carried my chair up for me and Belle (9) held my hand and I made it to the top and into my room without incident! With the help of Katie (16) and my mom, I pointed out things for them to pack and Katie found a couple things I'd been missing for awhile! After packing, I rested for awhile before attempting to take a shower. We've been blessed with a little water heater for the winter months which are chilly in the mornings and evenings and the thought of taking a freezing cold shower just doesn't sound too appealing. I was very thankful for the warm water and was actually able to shower without having to catch my breathe and felt so much better!

Afterwards, Shelley came to check on me and was amazed at the progress I had made (I was also very swollen in the hospital and my face had gone down a lot!). Their oldest son was arriving that night and as it was mine and Pastor Louis last evening in Haiti so they were wanting to take everyone up to Boutillier where there is a lovely little restaurant that looks out over Port-Au-Prince. It is one of my favorite places and my mom had never been there. She explained that if I wasn't feeling up to it that it was completely fine and they'd understand. I told her I'd nap but I'd really like to go. Mom changed my bandages and said that I should rest and see how I felt but she wasn't sure I'd be able to. Sure enough, when I woke up I wasn't feeling as well as I had and the long car ride to the top of the mountain and the long night that it was sure to be didn't sound like a wise choice. I do admit my eyes were wet as I told Shelley I wouldn't be able to make it and had to tell all my siblings (as they walked by my couch one by one) that I wasn't able to go. Katie, however, made me her famous ramen soup and mom and I watched Elf and an episode of Mythbusters before falling asleep. This time, I slept on the couch as being propped up and having something to lean into seemed to help.

I woke up shortly after everyone returned home and talked to Katie, Chelsea and Andrew for a little bit before falling back asleep. I don't really remember what we talked about but I remember Katie got some huge hoop earrings ;)

Tuesday, the travel day, came. I woke up, got changed and sat in my chair not feeling great and trying not to cry as I looked around the room reminiscing about the past two years and not knowing the exact date I'd be back. I thought about waking up the girls to say goodbye but I knew they'd had a late night and I would just end up crying all over them. I was able to walk down the stairs unassisted which Shelley said was amazing "I don't feel very amazing," I replied jokingly. Our security guard and one of my foster brothers were up and the tears really started to flow as I hugged them goodbye and climbed into the truck. Every time I'd left Haiti before, I'd had a return ticket and while I was sad to leave, hardly any tears were shed. I'd watched friends cry as they left and cried at their leaving but I'd always been ok knowing I was coming back within a week or two. I tried to trick myself into not crying because I know that I will be coming back but my heart and mind kept reminding me I didn't have a plane ticket back and the tears wouldn't be held back.

We flew Delta and I have to say that Delta did an amazing job. Mom had called them and told them the situation and they had booked her a nice flight, had wheelchairs for me. We had seats very close to the front of the the plane, went through security and everything very quickly and the people were very helpful. Flying wasn't as bad as I expected it to be; if I had to say anything I'd say that I was freezing.... but I'm always freezing on flights and they provided a blanket for me :)

I don't know how many of you have seen the newly remodeled Wichita airport but I couldn't stop gawking and oohing and aahing! We're so official now! Dad picked mom and I up and we headed home where my siblings (that still live at home) were waiting with hysterical signs and hot soup.

Wednesday, my "always on the ball" mother, had a doctors appointment bright and early for me. My legs and stomach were very swollen and so I weighed myself and I came in at a whopping 130 lbs!!! I have not been over 115, to my knowledge, ever! Freaked me out a little but mom assured me that it was all fluid. We got into the doctor's office fairly quickly and she was concerned about my swelling too but as she massaged my calves, it wasn't painful so she said it was probably from traveling but if I spiked a fever or had any pain in my legs to come in. We did lab work but otherwise she recommended: walking when I can, compression socks, continuing taking the antibiotic meds, Tylenol and ibuprofen and LOTS of fluids. We ran over to my favorite chiropractor (Dopps Chiropractics on Greenwich) who alleviated the pain in my neck, arm and back and headed home to sleep. Thursday, I'd lost 7 lbs and started using a pitcher of water to gauge how much water I was drinking (thank you Shelley and Sue) and today I am back down to 117 lbs!!! The test results didn't come back very encouraging but we're hopefully going to run them again and I will keep you guys updated :)

Arriving in Kansas without my appendix was change enough for me but there were many more changes waiting for me. Those who are returning missionaries understand that while home is home so is the home you just left. Someone sent me a blog post about how missionaries can never go home and while I'm grateful to my parents and my family for everything they're doing to make adjusting easier for me, it's hard and I appreciate the many prayers you all are sending up. God has however shown me that I'm on the right path with little things. One huge thing was that at the airport, having just arrived and were waiting for my dad to bring the car around, I was just starting to tear up again thinking about Haiti, an older gentleman overheard me say that I was coming from Haiti and he was Haitian!!! We had a little chat in kreyol and I learned that there is a little Haitian community here in Kansas!!!!!!!!!! God is good and He has a plan :)

P.S. There will be another post about future plans later this week as I know you're wondering.

You Never Let Me Down

(This was written in May but somewhere in the craziness was never posted so, here it is)

Last year, around this time I wrote an post on the Chikungunya virus and what God was teaching me through it. Well May seems to be the month of sickness for me in Haiti; Wednesday, the 13th of May, I came down with a case of mumps that had spread like wildfire through the preschool. It was kind of funny as I learned that the literal kreyol translation for mumps is: sick sheep and was told by my fellow teachers and Haitian brothers that when they call out "malmouton" (sick sheep) I have to "baa" and I will be healed. It didn't work but the staff did visit me in my room for a good laugh at my swollen cheeks and to pray over me. Such wonderful, God loving people.

After spending almost a week in bed, I was able to be up that Monday though it was a holiday so no school. Tuesday I got to play, gently, with my preschoolers. However, Wednesday I woke with with a horrible migraine, nausea, hot sweats, fever, chills, a weird chest pain and vomiting. The first day I slept the majority of it, holding a pillow over my head and a thick blanket to somehow block out: preschool, airplanes landing and taking off, motorcycles, drums, horns, cars, bells, dogs.... everything; it hurt to open my eyes, even the dark was too bright and the noise, the tiniest thing was SO loud. 

I've been having issues with nightmares while living in Haiti and the second day I had this urgency to be with Jesus and to really just focus on Him and it honestly turned into one of the sweetest times with Jesus I've ever had, just listening to His voice which cut through the loud noise like a soothing lullaby. The night before, a dear friend, who I hadn't spoken to in awhile, skyped me & had reminded me that God is holding me and telling me that He loves me over and over and over again and I need to stop and listen. It was truly a gift from God because as I lay there, "hiding" from the world, recalling these words; I heard God whispering it to me and I began to go through all the Bible verses my mom had my siblings and me memorize in school (thank you mamacita) and this peace and even joy touched my heart as I lay there the 7 dwarfs mining away at me skull and God blessed me with beautiful dreams and deep sleep.

The third day I was doing better but, if I moved I was lunging for the bathroom to throw up, not my favorite thing in the world. It didn't hurt to open my eyes anymore and I could look at a screen for 10 minutes before I started seeing spots :p I updated y'all and then began listening to music on my ipod; God always speaks to me through music and (as my wonderful madame Sue force fed me rehydration fluid every 10 min) I put my ipod on shuffle listening to my favorite christian artist worship God and I was touched so deeply as I listened to the words and felt the power behind the music. My heart and soul began to worship and His presence surrounded me as I lay there.

There is a lady who toured with one of my all time favorite artists and authors: Andrew Peterson (seriously go look him up if you don't know his work and buy it ALL) her name was Jill Philips. And I remember being so touched by her as a 13-14 year old that I spent the money I'd earned that week buying both her CD's and I listened to her for months! I haven't listened to her for a few years but one of my favorite songs came on that day and it spoke such truth, I cried. Here is my favorite part of the song: 

You might let me cry
You might let me sing
You might let me feel a fraction of your suffering
But you won't let me down
You never let me down

If I could just stop striving
And surrender to your holy power
I know your loving arms will lift me up
And never let me down
You never let me down

I struggle with letting people down; even thinking that I might throws a wrench in my stomach and I'll do just about anything to not let people down. And that's wrong. God didn't make me to please people. He gave me a heart to feel deeply and to love courageously, eyes to see needs, feet to go where He is and hands to hold those who are falling apart all in His name and for His glory alone. He's never let me down and He's never once called me a bad name or pushed me away from Him because I didn't do a "perfect job" or I didn't "work hard enough" or I spent all day in bed.... no... in every moment of our day there is time to draw closer to God, to stop and just be in His presence, seeking His will and just listening. Especially when you're laying in bed doing... nothing. God doesn't waste time. He could have sent Jesus as a grown man down to earth, Jesus could have only spent and week on this earth but He didn't. And for so many reasons I'm positive I don't know all of them. But He's always seeking us and by our side, It's not all for not; no matter how painful it gets or how many tears you cry if your heart is chasing after Him your life, though it may not go exactly how you'd like, will be an incredible adventure and as you look back you'll see His hand and though it seemed like you were in the pit of despair he really never let you down.

I did, after one failed trip to the doctor, another successful trip to the doctor, tests, rehydration fluid, prayers, medication and a ton of sleep get better. My tests all came back negative, we think it was the new Zika virus or one of the many unnamed virus here in Haiti ;) I'm continuing to plug away here in Haiti, I appreciate all the prayers and donations you guys send. There will be more updates coming soon!

Rest Easy

"You better rest while you're there" she said giving me a big hug as I said goodbye the night before I headed home. She said this sternly but with all the love in the world and I felt it. On the one side I didn't want to go home, I knew there were things to be done and by the time I returned we were hoping that over half of the kids in the children's home would be with their forever families and I would miss meeting their families and saying goodbye and what if school started?! I was so tempted to change my flight so I could meet one of the parents that was flying in the day I left and we would miss each other by a couple hours. I struggled with this but I felt His hand on me telling me that I needed to go home now for a short time so that I could stay for a longer time. And so I boarded the plane with half my heart left in Haiti but knowing this was His plan and having my mind set to enjoy my time and to rest so I could come back.

Part of resting meant: healing and healing meant: medicine and medicine meant: a trip to the doctors office.  So, I went to our family Dr. to get some blood work done... my favorite. I don't like hospitals or doctors offices, if I'm being completely honest, the thought of them makes me nauseous and having to spend any time in them just doesn't sit well with me. It's not like I've had horrible experiences or anything... it's kind of like peoples fear for the dentist. I've never been afraid of the dentist but doctors is another story. However, my mom and I walked in with the comfort of a warm starbucks in hand and took a seat. It was not a good C-virus day and me not wanting to be there didn't help with anything either. When our doctor came in and began talking, her words were "... she looks like she went through some rough stuff, the light thats normally in her eyes isn't, it isn't there and that worries me." it took me back hearing this; was it really that noticeable or that bad?! Yes, I felt bad but it wasn't... that bad surely!

I told her that I was only staying a month and she began talking to me about how she felt it would be wise to take another month off, how the poor will always be with us, that going back at 50% I will decrease faster than if I waited to go back till I was 100%, she continued talking about how Jesus rested and it took everything not to start bawling as she spoke these words to me. I knew she was speaking truth but I didn't want to believe it. Yes, I wasn't as 100% but it wasn't that bad and I would be ready to go in a month.

But when the test results came back and my thyroid levels were not where they should be my dr put me on medicine that would last 4 weeks and I would need to be checked once the medicine was gone to make sure the dosage was right; my flight was scheduled to leave in two weeks.

I choked up as I spoke in front of my church; when my Pastor asked me to tell them why I wanted to go back and how Haiti had captured my heart.

I started to cry as I put together a powerpoint to show at a fundraiser dinner I had and I put off writing a speech till a couple days before. My heart ached as all the sweet little faces popped up one right after the other, their little voices calling my head and I wanted nothing more than to be there with them. I wrote a speech, knowing that I would just cry if I didn't have a something set (though I didn't follow it to the letter) and it would be a good distraction.

I was not happy. I was angry.

Not angry at God, my doctor, family, friends or even complete strangers; though I think they all might have felt that I was and an angry outburst or two probably didn't help with their feelings but I was angry with myself. All the stress,  culture shock, worries and aches bubbled over and were misdirected.

And so I basically ran, ran away from it all to find myself sobbing to a dear friend on a mission campus in Oklahoma City and that's where He found me and I found.... me.

There are 2 things I've done for as long as I can remember:
     #1. Pushed myself through things. Thinking "it's not that bad" and "I can do this!" or the fact that "there are other people worse off than I am and doing way more things than I am"
     #2. Beat myself up when I mess something up no matter how little it is.

One of my best friends taught me a long time ago that there are always 2 perspectives: yours and the other persons and that I should to try and look through both perspectives and then apply to God's word before doing anything rash. Well tried to teach me would be a better description as I usually ended up just kicking myself about it.

I've believed a lot of lies about myself growing up. Not necessarily lies that people fed or told me but ones that I gathered or took the wrong way. And these weighed on me; I thought and saw the best in people but the worst in myself.

But, God has helped me begin to untangle this web, piece by piece through: His word and countless people showing and telling me that taking care of myself is not selfish and is critical when you're working in and for God's Kingdom (which should be wherever you are in life)

I never saw myself as enough or believed that I was enough. I knew what God said, I knew that without Him we aren't enough, I knew I had Him, I knew other people were enough but for some reason I was excluded in my head. I encouraged and built other people up but tore myself down. Have you ever been told to "drink your own medicine" or to "listen to your own advice" or something along those lines? Well; I needed to be told that and God gave me four incredible friends in Haiti, the wonderful mom of my Haiti family and the house mama of the childrens home to tell and show me that I was a precious in God's eyes. Each in their own way sat me down and spoke truth into me and I cannot thank them all enough but I do say a very heartfelt thank you to: My Haiti mamas, good cop, bad cop, captain awesome and my canadian "mother" for everything they have said and done for me.

I'm still a work in progress. I'm still needing healing and rest (and I still feel like a lazy lump) but little by little I'm understanding more and being changed a little more to the beautiful masterpiece that He created me to be.

There was a song that I took to Haiti and I forgot about during the summer. Music has always played a big role in my life through dance, playing instruments and singing. And this song I feel God speaking to me and it is written by one of my favorite singer/songwriters: Andrew Peterson. The chorus is:

You don't have to work so hard
You can rest easy
You don’t have to prove yourself
You’re already mine
You don’t have to hide your heart
I already love you
I hold it in mine
So you can rest easy

God says this about each and every single one of us. I write this with not only myself in mind but several missionary families and people that I know are breaking their backs and feeling beaten and lost. It's ok to rest in His arms for as long as it takes. 

He loves you.
He delights in you.
He sings over you! 

Yes! Isn't that such a comforting thought?! In the end it's you and Him not everyone you've ever met judging you, but you're loving Savior. If you need to rest then rest and rest easy however hard it may be or seem God wants you to rest and be at the fullest of your abilities. So together lets rest easy in Him though we see the work ahead and yearn to do it; rest because He knows your heart and has seen your work and is not judging or angry with you. This is not a punishment; but a gift.