Tanzania, June, 2026 continued

Tuesday, June, 2026

It is before dark when I rise to join Kelly for a New Hope sunrise. The stars are displayed with sparkling intensity. The surrounding hills cloaked and sleeping with only the sounds of the whirring night bugs. The crisp air revives my weariness and I sit with His beauty in the darkness.

The mountain is completely hidden from my view as if it weren’t there at all. The early morning misting clouds inhabit its space, flattening the horizon. Only my memory is here to testify of its majesty.

Behind me rises Kilimanjaro in the East. It’s flat top uncovered. Its grandeur towering above the horizon, unmistakable. As the sun joins us, it is as if the Great mountain steps back, fading into the distance, almost disappearing. Perhaps, it is making way for the majesty of God’s pinnacle creation, us, as we go about His work of restoration. I wonder at this marvel.

Kelly is playing a song though it is my own heart singing:  ‘Alleluia’ by Elevation Worship:

“I came to praise! That’s why I got up today!”

She progresses to another which also sings for my spirit as I gaze out at Kilimanjaro on the horizon: ‘Holy Forever’ by Chris Tomlin:

All who’ve gone before us and all who will believe
Will sing the song of ages to the Lamb
Your name is the highest (higher than Kili)
Your name is the greatest
Your name stands above them all
And the angels cry holy
All creation cries holy
You are lifted high, holy
Holy forever

Clinic, Day Three!

The siren song of our inherently human search for significance permeates all of us. I see it in my patients, my teammates, my leaders and myself. It is so beautiful every time I awaken to the truth that it is this song that draws me, us, to Jesus. It is in Him, alone, that I find wholeness and affirmation especially when I least expect either. He doesn’t need me yet He chooses to include me anyway so that I might know how truly significant I am to Him.

Today, I am challenged in my spirit. I am called over to start an IV on a listless child with Cutaneous Anthrax on her hands.

Though I was called, I feel pushed aside by others who want to do it. I find myself suddenly irritated and territorial. “How dare they usurp my position!”, I think and feel to myself, but my amazing God readily challenges my angst. As He told Jonah and Job, He reminds me, “Do you really have a right to be angry? Do you remember our convo about the search for significance? This is their comfort zone in a sometimes chaotic clinic. Step back, my friend. It’s okay.”

I did not immediately relinquish my angst but I did recognize the truth of His wisdom. As it percolated in me, I relaxed. It was then that I remembered my early morning experience with Mt. Kili. His message was now clear: Sometimes, those who are established in front must fade into the background to allow His Spirit to illuminate others…

This makes me burst out in laughter! I do so love it when God uses His creation to school me!

We are invited to a “celebration” at a neighborhood Boma. Tonight we will witness the pre-party but later there will be a traditional coming of age ceremony. Some of these young men will be ushered into adulthood through the Maasai tradition of circumcision. If they can stand stoic and unwavering during the no anesthesia event, then they are considered Moran or men.

The inductees wear black Shukas and await the arrival of the previous Moran. These men wear black as well but draw intricate designs on their faces in white paint. They aggressively approach the inductees who charge them as a sign of their courage. The olders form a circle around the inductees and sing songs to instill courage and resolve to bolster the youngers in their coming trial. This progresses with the addition of a deep guttural chanting accompanied by rhythmic jumping in unison.

One of the leaders of the olders wears an ostrich feathered headband reminiscent of a voodoo witch doctor. He marches around the youngers slapping them with the feathers. It is a pageantry at its best but to this outsider it has a decidedly hazing vibe. Nonetheless, I am drawn to the deep chanting that reverberates in my soul even without my consent.

Wednesday, Clinic Day Four

I am troubled this morning. I have a low offer on my townhouse.  I’ve been praying that God will bring a buyer who will be blessed by it. I woke this morning wondering if I should accept this low ball offer. Could it be that God sent this buyer to get a great deal for a reason beyond what I know? Or do I play the realty game and haggle for the price… I long for a word from God.

I share my dilemma and as I talk it through with a stateside friend, I come away encouraged, having received the word I asked for.  God will make this a win-win for both of us: the seller and the buyer. I can play the realty game and trust God within it.

John 14:1 
“Do not let your heart be troubled;
do not be dismayed”
are the words that are spontaneously running through my mind after my call. God’s got this and me! I can release my trouble and be about His work.

Raphael is my interpreter today. He and his sister have been with us before. I adore his spirit of service and joy. His smile is a gift that keeps on giving all day! He is an excellent, self-taught, English speaker. I am honored and grateful to have him by my side today.

My patients’ today are such a delight. The past days I have begun by taking their hands in mine and greeting them with ‘Jambo’ followed by their name. This has transformed their weary and stoic faces into playgrounds of joy. It is so beautiful. Today, however, I find that they take my hands first. I scramble a bit to pivot. I say my customary ‘Jambo’ and then repeat it after I’ve had a chance to read and say their name. Something in me giggles and dances with each exchange. I love my job.

Often my patients speak their concerns to my interpreter and he/she then speaks to me. I try to keep my eyes on the patient while they are telling their tale because so much of communication is non verbal anyway. We rarely look each other in the eyes during the history taking.

Today, however, a seventy year old tower of a man is among my first patients. I’ll call him Gregori, my G-man. He looks me right in the eyes after his smile transformation and, in Massai, tells his story to me instead of to my interpreter. He is grinning big, his pearly whites brilliant against his beautiful skin. He speaks as if I understand his every word and I hold his gaze with my own. It is impossible to not share his enthusiasm and though I don’t understand a word, I find myself nodding with the ebbs and flows of his cadence as if I do. When he pauses, Raphael doesn’t miss a beat and shares all I need to know. There is something wondrous and right about this but it somehow defies my words.

My G-man has multiple difficulties but we manage to navigate each one with ease. I surprise myself  by the treatment ideas that arise within me. As I consider this, it seems almost Pentecost adjacent that our communication is so effective despite our differences.

My next Darling, is also seventy and she brings a ten year girl with her to whom she points indicating she belongs to her. She, too, takes my hands first and greets me with vigor and many words. I am enchanted at once. I greet her and say her name, which has 14 letters to it. Raphael repeats it with admiration at my pronounciation!  Full of myself, we continue as if we are old friends.

Though my energy comes and goes, my spirit remains strong. The Spirit in this place is invigorating.

I end this busy clinic day being asked to assess Pastor P’s youngest. I do not question the request but I do marvel at the privilege and the beauty of our God Who calls, even, me.

As we wait for our ride home, I seek another of Pastor P’s children, G. I sit next to her and am content to hold her hand not knowing how much English she is comfortable with. She begins to sing a Swahili song and decides it is time I learn it.

On Sunday, we were surprised with this same song and with the DJ accompaniment were asked to sing it as a group in front of the congregation. Lip syncing works my friends! None of us knew it but we sang along anyway hoping no one would notice!

I am not so shielded today and soon find myself surrounded by several male volunteers and G. They all patiently, but with vigor and all at once, have me repeating it until I get it. I sing what I hear, thinking I am right but somehow continue to be corrected. For the life of me, I cannot distinguish the source of my error.  With no escape, I finally have them write the words and that is when my success begins to emerge.

Iseyek, papa papa,iseyek
Iseye,itaujalang,papa,iseye

I am touched by God!
It is good to be touched by God!
(Filled by the Spirit)

Once I ‘master’ the one song, much to my dismay-ish reluctance, they began to teach another. Again, they write the words and my success speeds up much to my own relief.

Enkai e Daniel ira enkai aai nasipa
Like Daniel in the lion’s den, God is so good!

I close the day with a nod to my Pentecost adjacent feeling today. It takes the form of a song: Thank God I Do. by Lauren Daigle

“I don’t know who I’d be if I didn’t know You
I’d probably fall off the edge
I don’t know where I’d go if You ever let go
So keep me held in Your hands

You’re my safe place
My hideaway
You’re my anchor
My saving grace
You’re my constant
My steadiness
You’re my shelter
My oxygen

I don’t know who I’d be if I didn’t know You.”

Especially on this day. I was troubled, approaching an edge this morning but He held me in His hands giving me deep nourishing breaths of His oxygen all day.

What a delight it has been.