A Lesson in Love

I realized that I haven’t really written a lot about my time at the dispensary, even though that is the biggest part of my mission here. I think part of what kept me from writing about my experiences there is that it is so hard to describe what a day is like there. It’s easier to write about the children at oratory or the celebrations we have or the trips around the town.

I am so glad that I can use my education to serve the people here, but it is in no way without its struggles and frustrations. As all of my nursing friends can attest, it is not easy to be a new nurse. There are so many new things to learn and so many new ways to apply the things we have been taught. Add to that a third world country, lack of supplies and technologies and a language barrier and it’s a wonder I consider myself a functional nurse at all. As with many things about moving to Africa, it was an adjustment, an adjustment that revealed many of my weaknesses.

My biggest strength during nursing school was my communication with my patients. If nothing else, I could almost always make my patient smile through kind words or patience in my speech. Here, I very rarely have a patient who speaks English. The language barrier is my most frustrating struggle. I long so deeply to be able to comfort patients with my words, to kindly explain to them where they need to go after seeing me, to explain to a child that my stethoscope won’t hurt them.  I long to understand their full stories instead of getting the roughly translated version, to hear their concerns, to listen to their histories.  I want to be able to explain to them that every fever doesn’t necessarily mean malaria, that it is a good thing when the test is negative, that every cough doesn’t need an antibiotic.

I often have patients that I know need more care than what I can offer. Patients that I know don’t have the money or the access to the care that they truly need to get better. I have patients that have been shuffled from facility to facility getting prescription after prescription that may or may not help the underlying problem.  It is hard because these patients are really trusting in me and there are many times that I feel like I am letting them down. I have limited knowledge, limited experience and limited courage.

Through all of these struggles and frustrations, every day brings beauty, even though I am limited, even though I am not enough. This is because I have a God who is enough, who is limitless. A God who shows me how to love, who teaches me patience and who provides true healing. I am just an instrument in His divine will. I am learning more from these struggles than any triumphs because I am learning the most important lesson of all, that I should never rely on my own self. God is teaching me to find new ways to share His love with my patients. There are many ways to show kindness, patience and joy without any words at all.

After five months of being here, I truly believe that God has used me to bring joy to the people here. He has used my broken Arabic, love for children and limited medical knowledge. I am not afraid to love these people. I am not too proud to try using my Arabic, even though half the time they laugh or think that I am still speaking English. I am not embarrassed when every eye in the dispensary is on me as I teach a couple of toddlers how to play patty cake. My favorite moments of each day are when I have a few spare minutes when I can go around and greet everyone and try to make the babies laugh.

I am a nurse in South Sudan. I write diagnosis and give prescriptions. I have treated hundreds of malaria patients. I have had a month in charge of the Tuberculosis program. I am a nurse, but first I am a daughter of Christ. I want all of my patients to be healthy, but I need them to be loved.  In the grand scheme of things, the love of Christ is stronger than any medicine I could ever give.