Dying to Self

While in church on Sunday morning I came across a paper in my Bible that a good friend gave me many years ago. The title of the paper read  “Dying to self!” and is about a half a page long. On it were 7 examples of how you can know if you are dying to self. Now, I admit that this idea is not usually in the forefront of my mind. I also admit that I was browsing through the contents of my Bible instead of listening. Nevertheless, I do think that it is no mistake I came across it.  

As I was reading the words I realized how incredibly selfish I have been. In my heart I have been so demanding of God. Somehow, I have been rationalizing my poor behavior on issues such as heat, time, and change.  And because the truth hurts, the words on the paper felt like I was being completely exposed. Yet, with this gentle reminder from God I still wanted to fight against it. I wanted to find one way on the list that I have succeeded in dying to self.(funny, right?)  To my dismay, I couldn’t find one. It was then that I knew in my heart I was not yet dead. 

I am reminded in this very moment of the grace that is upon me. I consider it a blessing when the Lord stirs my heart. I don’t want to remain the same Beth. I want God to raise my affections towards Him. Although painful, like any change, these moments are good for me. 

Here is the list of dying to self....painful, but good. (Thank you Krista!)

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DYING TO SELF!

When you are forgotten, neglected, and purposely set at naught and you don’t sting or hurt with the insults or oversights, but your heart is happy being counted worthy to suffer for Christ, that is dying to self. 

When your good is evil spoken of, when your wishes are crossed, your advice is disregarded, your opinions ridiculed, and you refuse to let anger rise in your heart or even defend yourself, but take it all in patient loving silence, that is dying to self. 

When you lovingly and patiently bear all disorder and irregularity and impunctuality and annoyance, when you can stand face to face with waste, folly, extravagance, spiritual insensitivity and endure it as Jesus endured it, that is dying to self. 

When you are content with any food, offering, raiment, climate, society, solitude, and interruptions by the will of God, that is dying to self. 

When you never care to refer to yourself in conversation or to record your own good works, or if after any commendation, you can truly love to be unknown, that is dying to self. 

When you can see your brother prosper, and have his needs met and can honestly rejoice with him in spirit and feel no envy nor question God while your own needs are far greater and in desperate circumstances, that is dying to self. 

When you can receive correction and reproof from one of less stature than yourself and can humbly submit inwardly as well as outwardly finding no rebellion or resentment lighting up within your heart, that is dying to self.

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In other news:

A little late, but a picture of my dear friend Terri who came to visit me in June!

On Friday while in clinic I felt an “aftershock”. I am not completely sure how long after the initial earthquake you can call movement an aftershock, but I felt it. It was crazy for me. I described it to Zizou as someone standing behind me pushing my chair forward. I told him that when I turned around no one was there and that’s when I noticed the desk drawers were rattling too. Then, nothing. I began to tell him that no one in the clinic seemed too alarmed and they kept on with their business. “Its crazy to me how normal it is for people here”, I said. He looked at me quizzically. He began to tell me that it will never be normal for people here. How they must not have felt it or they would’ve scared me with their panic and running. My only response was, “Oh”, but on the inside I was still weirdly excited at what I had felt. Now you must understand I realize that many people have felt these kind of things before, but I haven’t. This was the first time for me. Compared to the earthquake of 2010 this was nothing, but I sat in wonderment at how it could physically move my body. Whoa.

I finally got a car! I am now the owner of a Suzuki Sidekick. It is such a process to find a good car in Haiti. I had two trustworthy men on the job and they delivered. Having this car will completely change what I can do in Haiti. I no longer have to wait for a shared car and hope that I can make it to the clinic before it closes. No! I can go on time! Another plus is that I can drive in Haiti. My Illinois license works here too. The only negative is that its stick shift. Admittedly, I was taught how to drive this type of car, but never put much effort into mastering it. Now, on the pothole filled roads of Haiti, I will give it another go. Im sure I will bring much comedy into the the lives of onlookers. “Look at the white girl trying to drive, does she know that if you keep killing it you won’t get anywhere?!” Pray that I get my license plates fast so that I can hit the road!

Someday in the future when the doctor announces that I have skin cancer, I won’t be surprised. I recently went swimming with Zizou and his friends. Because I didn’t want to sheepishly lather on sunscreen in the corner of the pool, I put in on at home. I couldn’t reach my back and made a mental note to have someone help me. Well, I forgot. When we arrived at the pool I quickly jumped in to enjoy the cold water. I swam for the better part of two hours when I started noticing that my face was hurting. It was then that I realized my epic fail. I quickly asked Zizou if my face and back were red and after a thorough inspection he told me no. I began thinking that maybe I was alright. I was practically in the water with my back covered for most of the time and I put sunscreen on my face. So, we stayed for another hour. When I got home and looked in the mirror I realized that I should always trust my instincts. The mirror revealed a stark contrast between the skin under my bathing suit straps and the skin that was exposed to Haiti’s sun. I was about to be miserable. Over the night my skin created a nice set of blisters on my nose and shoulders. I was also given a fresh set of snake skin on my back. I am the luckiest. In a few days I will shed this skin cocoon and become a bronze butterfly, but for now I remain a pained caterpillar that can never learn her lesson on sunscreen. 

Some thoughts

As of today I have officially been in Haiti one month. In one month’s time I feel that I have learned so much about this country. In one month’s time I have been able to appreciate my own country and realize how easy we have it there. In one month’s time I  have learned very little new creole (shame). 

Haiti has made me see the world so very differently. I hope I never go back to the way I thought of things before. I’d like to think that Haiti has somehow added to my character. I’d like to share some of my observations and thoughts about what I have seen in my month’s time. These are all true and the names have not been changed.

*Any Haitian business employing a guard that carries a gun the length of my leg is sure to have air conditioning. Find something in the store to browse at.


*Dessert is a luxury reserved for the wealthy in Haiti.

*Never trust a man because he is wearing a Christian t-shirt. Words on shirts mean nothing in Haiti. When buying t-shirts Haitians don’t read the words, they just pick a shirt. Here are some good examples: An elderly woman wearing a shirt reading, “If my music is too loud, then you’re too old” and a 9 year old wearing a shirt that says  “Ladies Man”. 

*Don't scratch mosquito bites, rub them. Im not exactly sure of the science or thinking behind this yet. I do know that it doesn’t feel as good.

*Haitian prison is a place that you don’t want to go. Your toilet is the floor you sleep on, the insects and rats eat at your skin, you share a single room with an average of 20 men, and most people wither away to skin and bones. After hearing the prison system described to me late one night I began thinking many things. First, is Danny Pye. He was an American missionary imprisoned in Haiti for no good reason. He endured these things. I can only imagine the beautiful way the gospel was shared by him during those times. I can’t imagine what the gospel means to him now and how differently he reads Paul’s letters. Secondly, is our prison system in the states. I was told that if Haitians are imprisoned in the states then they have “made it”. How can it be that a person would rather be in our prisons than be free in their own county? I guess it only makes sense that they would see it as better; three meals a day, an education, free time, cable, a bed, and electricity. Many(not all) are terrified to go back to prison here, thus their cycle of crime is ended. Lets send our prisoners down here. We may be able to make some tax cuts. 

*When you go to a hospital in Haiti you are provided a bed. Your family is responsible for bringing everything else. This includes: all linens, toiletries, and food. You don’t get temperature controlled rooms or a nurse call button and Im quite positive that the hospital doesn’t send out patient surveys after you leave. You share a room with an average of 8 other people. Now, Im not saying that this is the right way to run a hospital. It just has me thinking about how much we expect in the states. That it is our right to have everything we want and if we don’t get exactly that then someone is going to hear about it. We must always appease the patient and make sure they have the best experience possible. For Heaven’s sake don’t make someone wait! Our American time is precious and 10 extra minutes of it cannot be wasted waiting for my child to get a chest xray. Do you know that I saw women with toddlers, infants, and sometimes both waiting in line at our clinic for over 2 hours....to get weighed? Then they would get in another line to wait and see the doctor. Then another line to get prescriptions. They never complained.  Quiet America, quiet me.  I am no better. I too believe that I should be given good care because I am paying for it.  However, I think for some people its never enough. For those people, I wish a stint in the Port-au-Prince hospital....there’s a bed open next to me.

*Haitians are generous. For being the poorest county in the western hemisphere, they  have shown me more generosity than I could tell of. When you go to their houses, they give you the best of everything they have. If your car breaks down in traffic, they will get out of their cars to help you. If you need your clothes washed, they will do their very best and then refuse to take money from you. If you are thirsty, they will take their own money to buy you a drink. They see to it that not one of their brothers goes hungry if possible. They will give you whatever you need so that you are taken care of. They are teaching me how to be a better servant each day. 

I hope this can give you a bit of insight into Haiti. Its only from my eyes, but it felt worth sharing. I wish that everyone could go and experience need somewhere in the world at least once in their life. It doesn’t even have to be another country, do it in your own town! Im not into making promises I can’t keep, but this time I will:  I promise if you go, it will change you forever. 

And the beat goes on

Hello everyone! Sorry that it has taken me so long to blog, but its been rainy and the internet hasn’t been working well. This past week I had my friend Terri here AND a group from Wisconsin! I have felt so blessed to share in ministry with them and to spend time with them. I was definitely sad to see them all go, but we were so busy and so many things happened during their time here. I feel like I have a thousand things to say, so bear with me.

Terri arrived on Sunday and (I think) quickly adjusted to the Haitian weather. Somehow, Zizou and I arrived at the airport a bit early and waited amongst the group of people picking up loved ones and clients. I was so happy to see her face in the crowd. Im sure she noticed me right away......because I had a sunburn on the right side of my body (this is a true story...only burnt on my right side). Why else would I have stood out? We made it back to the car with her things and were on our way to my house. After a quick stop there we went to the orphanage where Terri had her first Haitian meal.....rice, beans, and chicken.  After dragging her around Port-au-Prince awhile longer we went back to my place. It was there that she surprised me with gifts from home! My dear friends at work had sent me love from across the sea. These were the things waiting for me: food(lots), books, toiletries(loofah!), and cards with the most lovely words. I don’t know if they could ever understand what that meant to me. It gave me so much joy. Thank you all SO much. 

Terri and I joined the group that flew in on Monday.  The group came to do a medical clinic and we were ready to work with them! The plan was to leave Tuesday morning for Thomazeau, a town outside of Port-au-Prince, and work there until Friday.  The only problem was the rain. Monday night brought a downpour of rain and there is no constructed road to Thomazeau. Instead, travelers drive on a dirt road. The road is sometimes flat, but mostly contains many pits and grooves. Thomazeau is about 30 miles away from Port-au-Prince. This time it took us 4 hours to get there. Have you ever seen a school bus drive through a bed of mud that is up to your knees? No? Well, neither have I. We were stuck several times. The only way we managed to get through the mud was by the help of the villagers. (Who, promptly asked for cash once we arrived to our destination) The good news was that we arrived! We set up our beds after destroying about 50 wasp nests and tucked in for the night.

The next morning we arose early and set up the clinic. After the doctors arrived we began seeing patients. My job was doing lab tests. I also took my ultrasound machine along. My first ultrasound in Thomazeau was on an infant. She had a growth on the right side of her neck that stretched up to her right cheek. The growth also began to invade her mouth and push her tongue to the side. It looked like a classic congenital defect that you learn about in school. Terri and I both agreed that she appeared to have a cystic hygroma. The doctor wanted me to take a look by ultrasound to see its consistency. If it was liquid, he would drain it. If it was solid, he would send her to a doctor in PAP. Either way, she needed care. She looked miserable and you could hear the mass cutting off her air supply. After looking by ultrasound we came to the consensus that there was some fluid in the mass. Dr. Felix drained over 30 cc of dark red fluid from it and sent the family to the hospital with money from the group. That night the grandfather stopped by the clinic to tell us that the hospital had turned them away. We told them to come back to the hospital the next morning to talk with the doctor again. The next morning when they arrived we figured out that they went to the private hospital only for the rich and that is why they were turned away. We encouraged them to go back. We didn’t see them again and we can only hope that they received care. If not, the baby will not survive. 

On Thursday morning a man carried a screaming woman into the clinic. She was complaining of cramping and vaginal bleeding. She had not had a period in 2 months. Upon ultrasound examination I saw only what I can describe as a ball of tissue exiting her uterus. I could not see a gestational sac. Wide eyed and shoulders shrugged I made the call of inevitable abortion or miscarriage. The doctor seemed to agree and wanted to check her cervix. While three of us held her down, Dr. Felix checked her and helped her to pass the “ball of tissue” that would’ve been a beautiful Haitian baby. In the best creole I could muster I told her over and over that I was sorry while Terri lovingly rubbed her arms. She was silent. 

Later that night after clinic was closed down and people were preparing for bed, Terri and I sat in the back of the hospital chatting about the day and preparing to pray together. Three motorcycles full of people pulled up to the door and began scurrying around a pregnant woman. They were telling us that the woman was about to have her baby and that they needed help. I tried to explain to them that we had no doctor and that none of us had ever delivered a baby before. They offered up a woman who they said was midwife. At that point I was growing more and more confused. Was something really wrong with her? Why did they bring her here if they had a midwife? How did they KNOW she about to have the baby? They said that her water had not broken, but the baby was coming and she could not leave how she was. So, I went and woke up Cyndy, our VERY experienced nurse. She had not worked in OB for years, but she agreed to check the girl. We put her in stirrups and gave Cyndy the flashlight-she was crowning and THE BABY WAS COMING! We quickly went and gathered the hodge podge of supplies we had not packed and returned to broken water. The midwife started talking sternly to the girl and slapping her thighs. She was awesome. I positioned myself at the end of the bed with Cyndy at my side waiting with clean towels and water. After only three screams the head was out. The midwife helped pull the baby out the rest of the way. It was a beautiful baby boy. After the mother passed the placenta they cut the cord. The midwife then put some of the cord blood in the baby’s mouth and tied the cord with pieces of the mothers scarf. I was in awe. It was hands down the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I can’t describe the beauty. The entire ordeal only lasted one hour. After cleaning up the mother and wrapping the baby they all hopped on a motorcycle and drove home. (Yes, even the mother)

After Terri and I stopped staring at each other with a look of “did that just happen?”, she made an interesting point. She said how ironic it was that we saw a miscarriage and a birth all on the same day. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. No amount of births could ever take away that mother’s grief for her child, that baby can never be replaced. That is hers. But, there is life. The joy in seeing that baby take it’s first breath took the edge off of some of the pain from earlier. I know there will always be pain in loss, but it was a stunning picture of God’s goodness and how He is the redeemer. We left the next morning with an estimate 230 patients in two clinic days. 

Terri left on Saturday and the group left this morning. It was so great to have them, but now I need to begin a schedule and remain busy. Im sorry if I scared some of you with my last post. It has been a hard transition, but I trust that the Lord has laid amazing things in front of me. I must fix my eyes firmly on Him, my prize. I have to stop looking back and keep looking ahead. God will use this year in my life. So, pray for me friends. Remember always that I am sweating and that my arms are getting tanner.