It’s Not Always That Easy

Medical missions.

For me it used to conjure up visions of a lonely doctor out in the middle of the Serengeti, with his wife/nurse at his side. They are the only health care for many days’ hike in any direction. They treat their patients, pray, and then they pray some more. They see many patients, but in my visions they really only see a handful at a time. And by God’s marvelous grace, people are restored to health. In their thankful, healed state they listen patiently to the Words of Life, and they receive Christ. And the tired doctor and nurse team go home, weary but thanking God for the privilege to serve.

So much for my visions. When you actually get into the daily reality of medical missions on a frontier like this, you realize that this thing isn’t always that easy. I can’t speak to the perspective of those dear medical missionaries who serve in countries on the African continent, those who deal with malnutrition and HIV/AIDS and seemingly endless lines of patients. I can’t speak to the perspective of those who serve in urban centers in the majority world, where the diseases and illnesses are myriad, and where compassion is not a cultural norm.

I can speak as one who watches daily as my wife and her co-workers serve our tribal people in this remote region of the Highlands of Gulf Province, Papua New Guinea. These ladies are on the front lines of health care for thousands of people. Our Kunai Health Centre treats disease and illness and malnutrition and offers eye check-ups and dental care. Every day brings a new set of circumstances. Some days it is nothing but triage, treat, and discharge. Some days–like this past week–are triage, treat, treat again, and continue to treat through the day and the night.

And last week, when the nurses thought they were really tired, more critically sick patients came. Not just a lot of patients, but some with high acuity, needing more than a few pills and some instructions. Tube feeding for babies who were dying of dysentery. Constant injections for small children who could not hold down the meds. And none of the cases was related to the other; all from different villages, with different symptoms, and different treatments. But all of them acute. Every three to four hours’ treatment kind of acute. And we don’t have an overnight facility or staff. So these same, weary nurses were pouring out even more. You see, they don’t just treat. They love.

And then it happened.

Let me preface this with what we experience. By God’s grace and mercy, many of our patients recover quickly. Some recover so quickly that we are praising God for the miracle of how He raised them up. Some hopeless cases recover strength and actually walk home. And when it happens so often, the medical team doesn’t get the “big head;” they give the glory and praise to our wonderful prayer-hearing God. Sometimes, healing becomes routine, even expected. Give these treatments, pray, and watch God heal. But then comes the shocker.

In the midst of all these babies and small children being treated, two of them made fantastic, God-glorifying recoveries. And the next one did not. She died.

Same treatments. Same love. Same diligent, strength-draining care on the part of the caregivers. But this little one didn’t make it.

It’s not always that easy. Medical missions is a lot about successes. Medical missions is a lot about being able to love on people who normally wouldn’t listen to the Gospel. Medical missions is a lot about being able to give of yourself and see results. But like any situation where you deal with people’s lives, there is the capacity to be hurt.

Tomorrow will be another day for our medical staff. It will be triage, treat, and discharge. But when the triage turns to ER, and the ER turns to ICU…we’re still in a small tin-roofed building in the jungle. All those medicines and machines of traditional Western hospitals are not here. All the colleagues and consultants are not available.

All we have is a dedicated medical staff of nurses who are always learning, ever loving, and willing to give to the last drop to help someone live long enough to hear the story of a greater Love. These servants of the Lord need your prayers.

It’s not always that easy.

They Came From “Last Place”

At church today I saw Janet. She was sitting on the back pew with her little man, paying close attention to the message. Janet and most of her family are believers. She is from a village called “Las Ples” because it is the “last place” where our Kamea people had moved to the south.  Since the name was given, though, the Kamea have moved even farther south…but the name stuck anyway.

Janet needed counseling, so I spoke with her after church. Then I offered to get the little man more baby milk. “How many cans do you need?”  “None,” she said with a smile.  “He is already a big boy, he eats a lot of food.”  He is probably close to a year old, but there was no whining, no tears, nothing.  And then I remembered, he IS her umpteenth child.  When I asked how many children she has, she used all her fingers and toes and then said there are more, but they are grown.

Janet and her healthy baby boy

Janet and her healthy baby boy

Then Janet pointed to another lady with a baby who had come to church with her.  I had never seen this lady before. “This lady needs milk for her baby.”  Sure enough, the baby was frail and tiny.  They think she was born 3 months ago, but since there is no way to count days, the date is only a guess.  The baby weiged less than six pounds.  The mom told us that the baby is healthy, but she just does not have enough milk to feed her.

That was when she showed me the terrible scars that she has from mastitis (breast infections).  I had noticed her nursing during and after church. “Poor child, poor mom,” I thought as she explained that she nurses the baby all the time, but just cannot get enough milk to feed her.

So, the three of us (along with their babies) sat on the floor of the clinic as I explained how to boil the water, mix the formula, clean the bottles, and not to save any of the mix for the next feeding time.  I taught her to feed the baby from the breast first, and then to supplement with the formula.  She followed through, and then did it all herself.  Tomorrow she will return and we will teach it all again, plus Margaret (our clinic worker) will do it in her tribal tongue.  Mom will surely have questions, and Margaret will be better able to answer them in Kamea.

Three months old, under six pounds--a new milk baby

Three months old, under six pounds–a new milk baby gets her first bottle

The best part of this story is that Janet and her family know the Savior. I do not know about this new family; but since they are ALL staying with one of our Bible school families, they will hear the Gospel in Kamea from them. And tomorrow at clinic, they will hear it again in Kamea, from Margaret.

Just as this baby needs milk to grow, believers need the milk of the word to grow and the Holy Spirit to teach us.  Without it, we’re like this new milk baby: weak, frail, and tiny.

Janet from Las Ples has the word of God on a solar-powered audio Bible we distributed last year. For now, she can hear the New Testament in the PNG trade language; but how much better when she will be able to hear it in her own “heart” language of Kamea?

Nothing, Better and Best…having no milk, no access to God’s Word; something better is having God’s Word in a language you partly understand; but the best, the absolute best, is having it in your own language.  We English-speakers are so blessed to have it in our own language.

Would you please pray for us?

  • Pray as John works on learning the tribal language of Kamea.
  • Pray that our people would realize a hunger for the word of God as he and our teammates work with our men to translate it.
  • Pray as we put out the word of God, in print and in audio form; that as God promises, His word will not return void.
  • And pray for our medical ministry, that by our hands and His love, more Kamea people will see His hands (that created the world and that bled for them) and will love Him with all their hearts.

This is from my heart–Lena Allen

 

Pastor’s Leadership Conference April 2013

Moning olgeta!
    Awi!
        Mevelare veveke!
            Kamaga belo!
                Awina!
                    Vapani ima!
                         Awi nagaba!

Good morning!!!

That’s how I began each day  in our Gulf Province Pastor’s Leadership Conference. 28 men representing 8 languages (English, Pidgin, Kamea, Orokolo, Mekeo, Hamdai, Baimuru, and Akoye) attended the conference from April 22-26, 2013. Matt Allen spent lots of hours flying the previous (and following) days as he brought these men from their villages. Our Bible school wives spent hours and hours preparing the food for these men. And 12 men prepared lessons and devotions to stir the hearts of the attendees.

Pastor Rodney Tom of Rock Baptist Church in Port Moresby was the guest speaker. Host Pastor James Naudi joined missionaries Matt Allen, Jason Ottosen, Wil Muldoon, Andrew Schellenberger, and myself teaching the sessions. Leadership, Local Church, Sermon Preparation & Delivery, Song Leading, Pastoral Ministry, and Theology topics were covered. Vision for reaching our province and PNG was cast and caught. Hearts were stirred, tears were shed, bonds were made. It was good.

But the highlight of each day was the two-hour closing session: Questions and Answers. We do it a bit differently; the men pose the questions (or ministry dilemmas), and then everyone can join in on the comments. It’s not just the missionaries with the solutions. Some of our men have gained precious experience in pastoral ministries, and their answers can be profound at times. Not many of our Western pastors have to deal with issues of men having multiple wives at the same time–but our men do. It is both interesting and exciting to see the national believers work out their issues from the word of God. This group is very Bible-centered in their approach, and we were blessed to be engaged with them in the word. Through the lessons and interaction, places many of us may never visit were enriched by the Conference.

Kotidanga…Aminawa…Ipaiyu…Anita…Tiyava…Wawa…Anewa…Suwatua…Kemu…Hoiti…Komako…Kaintiba…Watitako…Ihu…Huruta…Harevavo…Haruape…Varia…Baimuru…Malalaua…Arenaipi…

Joy 4-2013 ConfThank you to everyone who prays for the TTMK team. Pray for our national pastors and Bible school students as these men take what they’ve learned back to their people. May the word of the Lord be multiplied, may Christ be magnified, and may precious PNG souls see that Jesus is Who they really need!

More photos at the team website!

 

What Part of “Tropical Rainforest” Did I Not Understand?

I remember the day well. We were newly arrived in PNG and had received a Twin Otter airplane charter filled with supplies for our new medical clinic as well as some of our personal goods. That particular day I was making my fourth and final trip over the mountain with the Kawasaki Mule. Heading back over the mountain with my last 350 pounds of boxes (among which were ALL of my linguistic and Bible translation materials), I ran into a rain storm. Not mist, not drizzle…but a tropical downpour. All I could think of were my “precious books” getting soaked in their boxes. Water was pooling in my lap as I drove; a river cascaded down the trail ahead of me as the Mule slid down the mountain, heavy laden with my precious books. My glasses were rain-spotted; my grip on the steering wheel was slipping; and my attitude was falling faster than the rain. Certainly, the Lord knew that I was coming over the mountain, and that my precious books were unprotected in the back of the Mule! Those precious, irreplaceable books!

As I pulled up to a soggy stop in front of the house, I politely screamed for help in carrying my precious books into the house out of the downpour. The water-logged boxes were beginning to come apart, and I wanted those precious books out of the rain!

After unloading it all, and spreading the precious books out to dry, my son (who is also my co-worker and my predecessor in this field) laughingly reminded me of where we live: A tropical RAINFOREST.

Sometimes we surprise ourselves by our own lack of “insight to the obvious.” Many things blind us to the realities that surround, not the least of which is our zeal. Too many times I have lit my own tail feathers and gone off writing in the sky, only to find out too late that the smoke of my sky-writing was at the expense of something I could not afford to lose.

Is it possible that God just might have a purpose I don’t understand when it rains, even if it rains on my precious books? In the weeks and years that followed, I found that God had something much more precious than my books in mind. He had people in mind. And He was using the rain to work on me.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:

So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it. (Isaiah 55:8-11)

Some lessons are learned the hard way. No lesson from Father is wasted. Books are not precious; people are. All it took was a tropical downpour to teach me a lesson.

So what part of “tropical rainforest” did I not understand? Better make sure that we clarify that part in all of our future missionary recruiting literature. We certainly wouldn’t want any more new missionaries coming over here and being surprised by the rain.

Every Word for Every Man

I didn’t see it coming.

We were doing literacy class among our Bible school students. This literacy class, for those who are already literate in Melanesian Pidgin, is as much for me as it is for them. Our co-worker, Sarah Glover, has taught some of these preachers’ wives to read and write in Pidgin. A year ago, they were illiterate.

Our Kamea language class gives me, the one who is learning Kamea, the opportunity to use what I’m learning as I learn. Our co-worker Cherith Ottosen, working with Margaret Manateo (whom followers of this blog recognize from our clinic), developed some reading primers and language lessons back in 2009. In the mornings recently I’ve been able to work with our Bible school students one-on-one in Kamea language materials.

This year we added Kamea literacy to our course curriculum in our Bible school. I wanted our men to be literate in Kamea so that they can help our translation team work on the Kamea Bible project. Four days a week we have been learning to read what little material there is in Kamea. A month ago, the students wrote their first stories in Kamea; brief and simple as they are, these represent a step ahead in language literacy. We printed them out and now they are part of a reading book. Needless to say, the students were excited to be published! Move over you big publishers, Kamea Press is cranking them out.

The students and I have worked together to translate a few Bible verses in isolation; that is, verses that can stand alone without supporting context and still have meaning. Our Ipaiyu church has memorized several of these verses already; the Bible school students are memorizing them too. This week we translated Matthew 4:4–“But he answered and said, It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” (KJV) It looks like this in Kamea; Matio 4:4–

Jisäs’o ä’oi täqutanqa ti, Tuwämnga yä qatna. Ämä’ä itaunta mtinga mame’a ihuta ti. Hawei. Ä’onga qhoä Nkot’oi’ya mängauta qatanqau ta mtinga mäuta ti.

Then it happened. Literacy class was finishing up, and we had a few minutes left. I saw the new verse on the blackboard and thought, “Let’s see if they can read it.” Mind you, they’ve been reading monosyllable words and have had little practice with the vowel blends that are in these words. I asked, “Who wants to try the verse?” Hands shot up. I called on them one by one. I pointed to each word as they read it clearly, without stumbling, in their own heart language. And, might I add, they were grinning from ear to ear. I had them explain the text, word for word. Yes–it is clear, accurate, and understandable.

I didn’t see it coming. I know that we are nowhere near doing the translation project. But I see hungry minds and hearts thrilled with God’s word, and I believe to see God do it.

 

 

Skippy the Bush Kangaroo

Off-roading is a passion for some people. Off-roading for us is the way to get around. In our area of the jungle, the government began a road project about 30 years ago, building a road between two points in the jungle…but never connected it to the outside world. From the end of our road to a road that goes to town is a three-day hike. We live on a road that goes nowhere.

My son Matt got a used Kawasaki Mule (something like a golf cart on steroids), and the Lord enabled him to airlift it into the tribe. Now I’m not sure what the Mule was supposed to do when they designed it, but we use it for every purpose we can find. It hauls fuel drums like a fuel truck. Like a logging truck, it carries timber of every size in lengths up to 14 feet. As cargo hauler, it brings our supplies over the mountain from the airstrip. As a church bus, it carries people to church. Quite often it transports sick or injured people as an ambulance. And sometimes, it serves as a hearse.

A mission worker dubbed the Kawasaki Mule, “Skippy the Bush Kangaroo” for the way it bounces along the road. (There was an Australian TV show of the same name years ago…with a theme song. Yes, we sometimes sing that theme song when we drive down the trail.) We know what it can carry, and we don’t overload it. Call it  “Mule” or call it “Skippy,” the little machine does more things than what it was designed to do.

In all the duties and opportunities that come into your life, can you say the same? If the load seems to be too much, remember Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” The load you are carrying, you don’t carry it alone. Believer, God Himself promised to put no more on you than you can bear (1 Corinthians 10:13). Though the load is heavy, He is there with you. He will never leave you, and He will never forsake you. And He reminds you to come to Him, for there is the place where He can give you rest. You might not have your own theme song, but I’m certain He’ll put a song in your heart.

With that in mind, Skippy, let’s help carry someone else’s burden.

Remind Me to Learn Only One New Language at a Time

“…where I heard a language that I understood not.” –Psalm 81:5

When we were students at Baptist Bible Translators Institute, we studied dozens of different languages. From Albanian to Zapotec, we listened to, mimicked, wrote, and analyzed their sound patterns, their tones, and their rhythms. Several times, as we were being swamped by learning all the possible stops, fricatives, nasals, and affricates, we were calmly assured by our instructors: “When you get to the field, you only have to learn one language and the sounds associated with that one language.”

So when we moved in among the Kamea a few years ago, our thought was that we would only have to learn Kamea (an unwritten dialect). Then my son announced that he was leaving early on furlough, and that we would be holding the fort until he and his family returned in a year or so. Suddenly, Lena and I realized that now we also needed to learn the trade language, Melanesian Pidgin, to function outside of our tribe.

Since Pidgin is a written language, largely based on English, we thought, “This won’t be too bad. We can use written and audio Pidgin materials and lessons, and we should be proficient in no time at all.” Famous last words.

I developed study cards for both Kamea and Pidgin. When we flew out for supplies, I bought Pidgin story books to supplement our self-taught Pidgin language course. Only a few of our contacts in the jungle speak English, so we were forced to use Pidgin and Kamea to communicate. Then it happened; we were mixing all three languages! There were days where we seemed to be making some progress, and the sentences, childish as they were, really flowed. The next day, we would slaughter the language so badly that people even cocked their heads like a dog hearing a strange sound for the first time.

Communication is so vital to us in our daily lives; but how often we take it for granted when we live among those who speak our native tongue. Find yourself placed among those of a “strange speech,” and you long for the ability to communicate your thoughts clearly and powerfully. For any missionary who has to cross language and culture barriers to perform his ministry, there should be a team of prayer warriors back home holding the ropes for him. Few things feel more isolating than an inability to communicate with or to understand what is being said by those around you.

A missionary friend in Hungary reminded me that, “The Lord GOD hath given me the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season to him that is weary:” (Isaiah 50:4) Of course, that’s easy for him to say; he had already learned to speak Russian before beginning his language studies in Hungary!

The truths of God’s Word are the most important things to be communicated. Pray for those who must learn a new language in order to carry on their ministry. It is hard to tell people about the love of God while their heads are cocked at an angle!

Medical Supplies Needed!

We go through lots of supplies! Student nurses learn how to suture under supervision of veteran missionary nurse Rachel Muldoon.

We go through lots of supplies! Student nurses learn how to suture under supervision of veteran missionary nurse Rachel Schellenberger.

Updated July 4, 2013–We will be shipping the container this Fall, and need the supplies sent to the address below by the end of September. THANK YOU to all who have already given!

March 20, 2013–Kunai Health Centre is in need of more supplies! Last year we sent a container with medical supplies, and just over a year later, the supplies are used up. We’ve been contacted by several churches and individuals who desire to help us with this need. A missions support group from our home church has generously offered to help coordinate and ship for us, so we are extending this plea for supplies.

We do request that you limit what you might send to only those items on the following list. These are the items we need, and other items would not only be wasted, but would cost us extra in shipping and air freight.

Also–and we don’t want to be picky, but we must be honest–please do not send liquids. We can re-hydrate things here at our location in the bush. The liquids add to our air freight costs, as EVERYTHING has to be flown in. We don’t have access to a road at all.

Please contact us at    lenaallen@yahoo.com   if you have any questions. Please ship all supplies to:

Bob and Stacy Norcross
907 W. Palmyra Lake
Palmyra, IN 47164

Thank you for being a blessing!

Multivitamins with iron
Children’s chewable vitamins with iron
Powdered milk
Baby formula powder (not liquid)
Naproxen (Aleve)
Ibuprofen (Advil)
Diphenhydramine (Benedryl–not liquid)
Vicks Vaporub
Baby bottles, nipples, and rings
Baby bottle brushes
Washcloths
Women’s elastic waist skirts (ladies’ size 10 and under)
Baby shirts or onesies (for one-year-olds and under)
Baby caps and booties
*We only need clothes for children under one year.
2″, 3″, and 4″ ACE wrap bandages
Muscle rub (like Ben Gay or Theragesic)
Anti-fungal cream (like tolfanate; we have plenty of hydrocortisone)
Ointment for sores (like Neosporin or Triple Antibiotic)
Toothbrushes
Toothpaste
Band-aids (standard size)
4×4 6-8 ply gauze
2×2 6-8 ply gauze
Kerlex bandages
Sutures (only 2-0, 3-0, 4-0, & 5-0 sizes)
Fiberglass casting material
Disposable bed covering pads (Chux)
Hand gloves (small, medium, large)
Zip-lock bags (all sizes)

Margaret sorting TB medicine for some of our many TB patients.

Margaret sorting TB medicine for some of our many TB patients.

Interruptions are the Key to the Crucified Life

Interruptions are the key to the crucified life. –Jeanne Guyon

Planning. Scheduling. Organizing. These are mainstays of the Western mindset. I must plan, I must schedule, and I must organize. Then I moved to the jungle.

More often than not, our days are unplanned here. Not that we don’t plan, mind you. It’s just that, well, things come up.

Medical missions is part of our outreach ministry. Since everyone in our region knows that our clinic treats everyone for everything, they show up every day. Never mind that clinic days are Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday. The only time they usually have to wait is on Sunday, because we don’t see anyone on that day until after our church services are over.  “Closed except for emergencies” is what we say; and what isn’t an emergency? Malaria, typhoid, knife wounds…all of these cannot wait until business hours.

Today we were supposed to work on language learning. Then two patients needed to be transported over the mountain to the hospital. Then came another. By the time I was back at the mission station, my language helpers were gone. So what did I learn in language today? I guess I spent the majority of the day speaking in the two languages we are learning because our patients and their families don’t speak English. The little boy who walked with me to the village taught me how to say “We (two) are walking to the village,” along with some other words and phrases.

More importantly, I learned (again) that interruptions are the key to the crucified life. My plans are always to be subject to my Master Planner. His wisdom is infinitely higher than mine, and His path is much more worthwhile than mine. I will continue to plan, schedule, and organize; but daily I will lay these “desires” at the Cross of Christ that I may know Him better, and that my life may be more like His. God desires that I be conformed to the image of His Son; and I have noted that in my life, He engineers the conforming.

Let’s start tomorrow’s plans with a “Lord willing, we shall…” and allow Him to interrupt us as He pleases.