Dual mindedness

Oh the joys of living overseas and feeling neither like an American and neither like an Ethiopian. Sometimes it is difficult and other times it is just funny to see the culture clash. 

A few weeks ago we had a team that came to visit us at the hospital and brought cloth diapers for the newborn babies and the pediatric department. One of their team members had come before and was moved in love and compassion that all the babies soiled rags with urine and stool, for the mother or helper to hand wash and change again. The beds get wet, the mothers get wet and the child is covered sometimes down to their cute little baby feet in poop. So this team decided it would be so much better, and more sanitary if we had reusable cloth diapers for the wards.

They got everything all set up and gave their specific instructions to the cleaning staff. I happened to be their to watch their interaction... all translated by our local Ethiopian IT worker, who knows nothing about cloth diapers, but he speaks english. 

"So what you need to do is fill up some buckets and fill them with hot water for the patients to put the diapers once they are dirty."

"But our patients will just put trash in the buckets." 

"Well, maybe you should label it: for dirty diapers only."

"We have tried this before and our patients just put trash in the bucket."

"Well, put some tape on it with specific instructions about what should go in which basket,"

"We have, and a number of our patients can't read."

"Well they will see."

"But we have tried and it didn't work. I can show you the basket with the amharic writing on it that says for dirty diapers only,"

"We should try again."

"And most of our patients don't know what a diaper is? Or know what to do with the plastic covers."

"We should teach them."

"But we have tried and then the dirty diapers and the plastic pants all went down the pit toilet and clogged the septic system."

"Well, we just need to teach them."

"But"

and she walked off to distribute the cloth diapers. 

Fear

Why is fear such a great weapon. It feels like it is everywhere, and so easy to get sucked in, especially with young children.

Since our return to Ethiopia, as the mother of sweet 2 year old Cole and little 3 month old baby Leah I have had moments of overwhelming fear, crippling fear, and even I want to run as far away from here as I can fear.

I was doing ok. I could handle the every changing expectations, the non-functional car, being left alone to care for the hospital compound and the hospital for a few weeks with the others traveling, but when it comes to my kids, it is so easy to get overwhelmed and spiral out of control.

Just as I started working in the hospital more than I intended, and the majority of our western neighbors left, there was a new article about aflatoxin in all diary products in greater Ethiopia. https://aghealth.wordpress.com/2015/07/20/new-ilri-study-finds-high-levels-of-aflatoxin-in-milk-and-dairy-feeds-in-greater-addis-ababa-milk-shed/

I felt like a horrible mother, who is some way brought her family over to Ethiopia, just to give them huge quantities of aflatoxin, that may cause liver cirrhosis or liver cancer (and I have a real fear of liver disease after a very close patient of mine died on the liver transplant list). I had been giving Cole the milk here and the local cheese and yogurt for the last year, and ate it while I was pregnant with Leah. What have I already done, when I didn't know? What am I doing all the time without realizing it? Can I trust anything to eat here? What should I feed my family? I wrote to a friend and told her, "I know God has called us here, but it makes me want to run "home" to keep my family safe."

Then that very next week, I had to travel to Awassa to sign some papers for the hospital. Awassa is in a low lying plane, next to a lake with endemic malaria. I figured it would be ok to go and take Leah because she would need to eat and as long as we were only there during the day we could avoid the malaria carrying anopheles mosquito that only come out at dawn and dusk... until it took longer than we anticipated and we left after dark. AND THEN Leah came home with a mosquito bite. All the fear came rushing in again. Did I just give my infant daughter malaria? (and I have a real fear of malaria after a friend of mine lost their 6 month old to malaria in Chad). Why did I let myself go there in the first place? Was it worth it? If I didn't go the hospital would have had to shut down. But my daughter's heath is not worth the price. I couldn't sleep for days fearing the dreaded fever that might ensue.

WHY do I let fear consume my mind? It strikes deep in the heart of my mother's heart. During this process I have had to draw nearer and nearer to God in prayer, especially in the middle of the night when it feels the hardest. YET he has called my family to Ethiopia and I will trust him. He is victorious and has plans far greater for our family and Ethiopia than liver disease and malaria. There is a hope that goes beyond sickness and health. It enters into the hope that comes only from the spirit. The hope of eternity in perfect union with our Lord. Sometimes that hope feels like a hard pill to swallow, but I remind myself, over and over and over again...

Romans 15:13. May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Psalm 91: 3-6
Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge;
His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.