Giant baby steps

I saw some of them walking on the dock while they were waiting to be seen by the screening team.
I saw two of them walking by my ward heading towards their ward the day before their surgery, their heads would barely touch my elbow, their legs are bent and they walk slowly but still smile and look straight into my eyes. One of them came to walk with my patients while we were singing and dancing on the hallway, he walks faster and claps with a perfect rhythm, and sings loud and clear.
I walked by their ward and saw maybe 8 pairs of little green casts on their beds, but I felt shy and didn't have the courage to go and meet them. They've already been through surgery, their bones were broken to be fixed, their legs were bent and now are straight, they could stand straight now, but they're not ready, bones need to heal to put weight on them, muscles need to rest to stretch them again.

And today, as I walk by the wards on my day off, I meet her. She is maybe 5 years old, her legs are wrapped in little green casts, she is crying but holding her walker tight, and standing straight, standing still. Three people are there with her, for her, encouraging her, I don't see her mom. Her mom is just walking by, but maybe she thinks her girl is tough enough to start walking today, maybe it's too painful for her to see her little girl crying.
I sit down next to her and start praying quietly, asking Jesus to help her to move her legs; she keeps crying, maybe it hurts, maybe she's afraid of hurting more if she moves, but this is the day. And then, she takes one step. One little step and the four of us explode with joy and hope, and suddenly I'm on my knees right in front of her, looking into her eyes and telling her she can do it. I don't speak her language, but that's all I can do, kneel by her and celebrate each tiny but powerful step she takes. She is not crying anymore, and every time her mom walks by, she is smiling, she knows her little girl is starting to walk and she is proud of her.
Little girl with green casts made it to the doorstep we were aiming for, her physiotherapist is happy and says she did even better than expected, and all she did was taking 10 steps, 10 tiny steps forward with her new straight legs. After these first 10 steps, her dream of walking straight is now her new life, the impossible has become reality, the pain was not impossible to bear and now she knows what she's capable of.

We've been in Guinea for 3 months. Life on the ship has become pretty normal and my co-worker and I have settled and learned to do our job pretty well, we're very happy here. The nurses that we trained by the end of August are on their own now, some of them already left, others are charge nurses now, and each one of them shines while they take care of our patients. Our day crew are happy and feel comfortable with their responsibilities, they remind us of things that need to be done, and I'm proud of them. New nurses keep coming, we love meeting them, guiding through their first day on the ship, and while they meet a variety of characters and personalities, everyone keeps learning how to work together and help each other.

I've been learning new things too. I now am able to help at the sound desk for meetings, worship services and conferences, I'm part of the worship team, and also serve on the Emergency Medical Team. I'm enjoying my beautiful small group of friends and sisters, we meet once a week to catch up, pray and hopefully will start a bible study soon.
I'm grateful for having the chance to still work in the ward, taking care of patients keeps me connected with the real reason for being here, serving them puts everything in perspective. I need that. After almost a year of being away from what used to be home, and months of only seeing my family through a screen, it's easy to get distracted by little things that want to steal my joy. Little things like missing my country and all that it means. I could write a whole post of all the things I miss, it's actually in my drafts right now. But that is not what I want to write about here.

My last post was a while ago. I've been trying to figure out what to write, and many times I just think: "Life is just normal here, what could I tell people about?"
It's incredible how easy I got used to the amazing place and people that surround me. And as I get used to it, I realize how easy it is for me to start complaining, and forget how grateful I can be for being and serving on the ship. I understand now how long it takes for my patients to recover from their surgeries and go back home. I smile and comfort them while they're getting used to their new faces, but it's something that now I understand and assume that should keep happening.
On my days off, my "me" time, there is a fine line between recharging and re-connecting with God, friends and family, but my "alone" time can also turn into a self-pity party. Selfishness and depression are right there ready to distract me from the bigger picture. Lives are changed day by day here. Every day the blind can see again, the "ugly" and "scary" turn into beautiful, the ones that walked on their knees or couldn't even walk, are walking now.

And today, I met her. Her little steps brought tears to my eyes and my heart wanted to explode with joy and a burning flame of hope that was falling asleep. I met her right after I met my supervisor to tell her that after fasting and praying for 40 days, I decided to extend my commitment with Mercy Ships for two more years. Tears are coming back to my eyes right now.

This year is the 40th anniversary of Mercy Ships, and our way to celebrate it was fasting for 40 days, looking backwards to go forward. We prayed giving thanks for all the incredible things God has done, and for guidance and stronger faith for the future He has prepared for us and the people He wants us to serve.
Soon I will complete a year on board, and I am beyond grateful for how God orchestrated everything to bring me here. I decided to fast and pray asking God for His will and guidance about my own future. Putting aside emotions that come and go, my calling and purpose here hasn't changed. I still strongly believe this is the place I am meant to be, living and working with a multi-cultural community that offers hope and healing to the forgotten poor through free surgeries. We're not perfect, we try our best, we make mistakes, sometimes being here hurts more than other times, but He is the one that works everything for good (Romans 8:28); He is the one that is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us (Ephesians 3:20).


Just by seeing the little girl's first steps, I saw myself in her. Some steps have been tremendously difficult, painful, scary, frustrating, but even if it's just a small movement towards God, He keeps saying: "Yes, kid!! Come on!! You can do it!! You're doing great!! I believe in you!!"God is a happy and proud father, and I want to keep taking giant baby steps towards Him, towards two more years of service as a nurse on the Africa Mercy.

Would you join me in prayer? If you've been around during this first year of my life as a Mercy Shipper, you may know that God is the one that pays for everything I need, so we're back to that place, to that prayer, asking Him to provide for my flight tickets to go visit my family in Colombia and to keep serving on the ship, covering my monthly fees and my personal expenses.
But, if you want to pray better, pray that God will keep my heart in the right place, trusting Him and enjoying every day with Him, no matter where I am, and no matter what I am doing. He is my Father, my provider and my leader, I just want to keep following Him.

Here is a video about Mercy Ships history and also an awesome surprise by the end of it! Enjoy!

Mercy Ships History and Overview