Tanzania in June, 2026

Tanzania, June, 2026

It is a cool and balmy night as we leave our last plane of the day. The sweet, moist Tanzanian air fills my lungs as I am welcomed by the Kilimanjaro International Airport sign lit up bright against the dark sky. The iconic palm trees join the illuminated chorus. I am weary but smiling.

As I enter, the first sign to greet me is an electronic public ad. In large print is the word EBOLA. I guess the public health department trumps public relations.

To my understanding, the ebola outbreak is 1000 miles away but education, well, I guess it is right that it is everywhere.

Day One, Friday
The Road from Arusha to beloved Ketumbiene.

The lush greenness of the post rain season surrounds us in Arusha. My heart is delighted at every turn.  The farms of bright yellow and red flowers are blooming beside the fields of sunflowers following the sun. A tree flourishes with both white and purple, delicate petunia like flowers. Its branches are dotted with small, singing birds. The hills are alive with their new verdancy, the eclectic greens spanning the continuum. My spirit bursting with the vibrancy and beauty. It is God speaking life to my soul.

There are families of giraffes, children and goats along the dusty road to Ketumbiene. The familiar thorn forest crowding the roadside as evidence of the rain, welcomes us home.

We arrive at our Ketumbiene Motel where we will stay for the next two weeks. In the late afternoon, we visit the New Hope campus where once I helped plant fruit trees and attended Sunday service in its rocky field. What was formerly the stuff of imagination can now be seen. The pavilion is newly finished and we will attend its dedication on Sunday. Tomorrow, we will hold clinic here for the first time. It is an open air building with a red roof and floor and an expansive view of the mountain. Ketumbieme Mountain is lush and majestic against the blue sky; its peak hidden by clouds as it gathers the greenness of the valley hills to itself. It is a spectacular display.

Before heading home, we fuel our imaginations once more with a tour of the construction zone that is the lodge in progress. It is located just north of the pavilion.  Next year, we will stay here!

Day Two: Saturday, First clinic day

We are treated to a soft start to our first day of clinic. The sun, rising over the eastern horizon, spreads its golden hue on our porch as I sit and listen. There is the distant singing of multiple voices joining in… a hymn in Swahili perhaps? I join them with my spirit and we welcome the new day together.

It is a cool but warming morning at the pavilion today. Fresh breezes further awaken my senses as we work out the configuration of clinic. I greet Rachel, my interpreter. She is a single mom and student who attends college in Tanzania’s capital, a 12 hour bus ride away. She is on a break and has come home to join us. She speaks English well and will be my beautiful asset all day.

Dr. Maria sits with me at our assessment table. We worked together last March and it is so lovely to see her again. She has a gentle, inclusive way about her that welcomes me in as a trusted colleague and friend. It is so affirming to be welcomed by her.

These trips stretch me, especially in my Nursing self. I sometimes struggle with feeling like an imposter and need frequent reminders that God does not call the equipped; He equips the called. I trust Him to know what He is doing even when I feel like I do not. He promises that my weakness will be a canvas on which to display His strength.

With that in mind, I had a patient with an intermittent eye problem. He had the wisdom to take a picture of his eye when it flared and he showed it to me. The photo alerted me to a course of action that I initiated and sent him on his way. Later, I saw that Kelly had intercepted him and was in hot pursuit of a fuller plan of care. Though I am often afraid I will miss something, God is not. He accomplishes His plan through the whole family and I am blessed to be included.

Next, Dr. M receives an Uncle and his 10 year old nephew. They tell her that they want to be seen by me. They say that I  come highly recommended.  A laugh escapes my lips as, in my surprise, I wonder who in the world would think I was the most qualified in the room? My answer is, of course, God does. He has given me something they need and here they are to receive it. The thing is, He has also given them something I need and so, here I am to receive it. I love His circle of giving!

Sunday

We gather at the Pavilion for church. The center wall is decorated with colorful silk and ribbons. The podium shares the theme. There is a festive table at each side for distinguished guests and rows of chairs to fill the room. The DJ/Worship leader is elevated on the side bleacher seats. We are ready.

At the left side table, the distinguished guests gather. They are government officials who have come to celebrate the dedication of the pavilion. There is even a Muslim section, I find out later, who are welcomed and included seamlessly.

We spend the next several hours singing with various choirs and dancing with them all. The dancers are of every age and arrayed in the fantastic colors of life here.

I am my usual self so I sing and dance with my hands. Today my feet and shoulders join as I try to embody the Maasai way. My movements seem chunky and foreign to me. Though I am working hard to pop my shoulders and neck in the rhythm of those in front of me, I am well aware of my disconnect. Could there be some subtle trigger or skill I am missing? I stop trying to procure movements and let my body take me, much the same way my hands take over when I sing. If a joyful sound is pleasing to God so must be my pitiful attempts to absorb the unabsorbable.  It is as intangible as it is sacred.

I am off to the side, taking comfort and courage in being noticed only by God. That is, however, until I am popped out of my reverie when Pastor Yonah, a pastor I do not know well, makes an announcement from the pulpit. With a microphone, he announces   how delighted he is that ‘Mama Anna’ is dancing like a true Maasai. This makes me yank my head up just as the whole team and congregation look my way… swallowing my tongue and feeling a rush of blood to my cheeks, I feel like I am caught on the jumbotron being naughty. So much for being noticed only by God!

It is the church style here to spend the majority of the celebration time worshipping with movement and song. I marvel at how they express their love to God through their whole selves. They get their heart out, as my Pastor back home says. Focused on Jesus, they offer their whole bodies to Him. It is as truly marvelous as it is freeing.

The service is paused and we move outside to gather around a curtained wall. There is a red ribbon enclosing the small area that reminds me of a photo booth. It is here they reveal a plaque behind the curtain. It declares the glory of God on a plaque dedicating the pavilion to His work. This pavilion is now:

THE GLORY JO PAVILION
ESTABLISHED 2026

“NOT TO US, LORD, NOT TO US BUT TO YOUR NAME BE THE GLORY BECAUSE OF YOUR LOVE AND FAITHFULNESS
PSALM 15 NIV


Back inside the sermon eventually comes. Pastor Peter speaks from Isaiah 43:18-21.

18 “Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old.   19 Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.   20 The wild beasts will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches, for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people,   21 the people whom I formed for myself that they might declare my praise.   (Isaiah 43:18-21, ESV)

“God says “I will do a new thing!”
The Israelites were once in slavery and could not imagine God doing a new thing but He did!
He is the same God today! He is doing marvels! When God says it will be done, He does it!

Here at New Hope, we did not imagine God would do such big things. This was the bush BUT God has done a new thing! God brings New Hope!

I remind you today, God can do new things out of your difficulties! When you believe, God can do it! Even if you are passing through the wilderness, God can bring water!

God is transforming the Maasai! Believe big things! The past miracles are nothing like what He will do!

Is it possible? When in the wilderness? God told Israel through Isaiah, forget old, I am doing new things!

He will work in and through the community and individuals.
Let us trust in God. He will make a way where there is no way!

We are here to give thanks to God! He is  reviving our new hope. Let us give Him our declarations of praise!

Hallelujah!”

Hallelujah, indeed!

Monday, June, 2026

The sound of the roosters mimics my prayer today. They begin with a cockle but they really lay into and prolong the doo. It is at times more of a deep guttural, persistent longing, almost a bursting as if they are trying to will the very sun to rise. It is a picture of my own willingness to bid the Son to rise in me as I feel the depth of my longing to be all about His business. On this day two of clinic my cockle doodle doo is  “Here I am. Send Me.”

Wispy fluffs of clouds touch the viridian mountain peaks. The delicate birdsong and insistent twittering fill my ears as the gentle, cool breezes blow strength and vigor into my bones. It is as if God Himself were lending me His Ruach, His breath. It is a fine beginning.

Dr. M is back and, as usual, her smile lights up the room. She asks me if I am cold because she thinks this is coat weather. I tell her I am always so hot here that this fresh cool morning is a cherished reprieve for my expectations.

I am greeted by a healthy looking woman with abdominal hernia symptoms though I cannot find one. Dr. M advises she be referred for an ultrasound but adds the Ketumbiene ultrasound tech has been absent for a month. My patient agrees to take the bus to Longido instead.

This leads me to tell Maria about my ambulance trip to Longido last March. My patient needed a C-section but there was no anesthesiologist here. Maria is surprised and shows me a video of the C-section she recently attended at the Ketumbiene hospital. Go figure…

I am called over by Pat to assess a small darling with eyes swollen shut. She is also malnourished and at 18 months will take nothing but breast milk. As I try to open her lids to see her eyes, there is a thick, creamy gunk preventing inspection. We try to clean some of it away but realize there is just too much ick. I give her an antibiotic shot and eye drops. I teach mom about warm compresses and comfort meds at home and I have her agree to return tomorrow for assessment. It is my hope that tomorrow the swelling and discomfort will decrease allowing a more thorough assessment of all of her needs.

Through my years, I have been known to keep my feelings off my face but today I feel my face contort in a breath holding grimace as it, unbidden, shares my contempt for my patient’s suffering. This is the worst I, and others, have ever seen.

Later, a team member noticed how busy I was ‘saving’ that baby. I found this a rather curious word choice. Was I saving that baby?  I decide it probably looked that way to him. To me, it was not a ‘saving’  but, rather, a privilege to be used as an instrument of God’s peace. It will not be me or the medicine that will heal this darling. It is always Jesus Who brings the healing.

I have multiple others with eye injuries and vision problems which are beyond our clinic’s scope of care. As I take my concerns to Kelly, she sends a text to an Ophthalmologist she knows in Arusha. This doc answers her and may join us next week! It never ceases to amaze me how God uses our giftings in the most wondrous ways.