Missing you...

Since coming back from Nigeria in June I have struggled to be all here. I am finally settling int o life here and yet I am missing my life in Nigeria so much. I miss my friends, my children and the work of helping HIV patients. I am learning to rest in Jesus and to trust in his will for my life. I want to obey Christ and to die to my own selfishness. Nigeria is where God wants me to be and I long to be in his will because that is when I am most happy and he is most glorified.

Spring of Life

I have been thinking lately about what it means to truly live. In order to live I have to die. That doesn't seem to make sense, yet when we follow Jesus he demands us to lay down our life so that we may live fully for him. I am called to die to this desire to please my own sinful flesh and to live for serving others. This is not natural, but supernatural. It is a high calling and a total contradiction from what the world says. This battle is one of the hardest things in our Christian walk because everything in us says to please and satisfy our own selfish desires. We pine after temporary things which are merely cheap substitutes for the living water that Jesus provides. I have been dying of thirst for living water that will quench my soul and satisfy the deepest longings of my heart.

Every single day when I rise I have to die to Susan; die to the desires that I live for and aim to lay down the "self" that creeps up daily. I am called to put off the old man and claim the new man and the promises from my Heavenly Father. I long for pure and holy water from Jesus to fill me. These days my tank has been running on empty and when I arrive to work I feel like I have nothing to offer my patients. Yet If I am being filled again and again with Holy water from the Eternal well, then the character of Jesus, who is the filler, will naturally overflow onto everyone around me. How do I tap into that daily? By being at the feet of him who died for me, by falling on my knees and bowing to the one who bowed his head and said "it is finished!" When I count the cost of the cross at Calvary I cannot help but come away changed and satisfied.

"But whoever drinks of the water I will give him shall never thirst; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life!"

John 4:14

Oh that I would run to the fountain of life, the spring which is Jesus and die more often to truly live in HIM.

No strings attached...

I have been disillusioned lately with certain friendships. Those that I thought were close to me show no interest in my life and it hurts. I am going through this thing as I prepare for long term missions in Nigeria where I realize that many people have already let me go. They don't want to invest in me because I am leaving again, or maybe they have moved on. I guess I have to lower my expectations of others because they will always let me down. I am left disappointed because I realize I have once again invested my heart in people who don't reciprocate. As painful is that is for me I still choose to love others and show them God's love. Jesus didn't love people for what they could give him or how they would benefit him; he loved them with no alterior motive. Do I do that? Do I really love people because I love Jesus and he calls me to love, or because they can benefit me in some way? I am searching my heart on that currently.

I also realize that some people are only in our lives for a season. That season however short or long is blessed by the people that come across our paths. I am learning how to enjoy those friends for however long I have the privilege of spending time with them. The hard part though is saying goodbye. I don't like this at all but after living in Nigeria I got good at saying goodbye constantly. It seemed like weekly I was saying goodbye to another friend who I had lived through such difficult times with. Tragedies bring people closer and in Nigeria we went through many of those.

For now I give my hurt heart to Jesus and ask him to mend it and help me let go of those that hurt me. I am sure there are many people that I have hurt and I don't even know it. May God forgive me for the selfishness in my heart and help give me a heart that simply loves.. with no strings attached.

I have found the secret....

Since living in Nigeria my life has not been the same; I have felt like I am in "transition mode" for over a year now. I often struggle with how to reconcile the way that I feel, and learn contentment in the midst of constantly feeling pulled between two worlds. I have yet to know how to just "be" without planning or anticipating the next thing. At times I am unable to relax and not worry about what it is that I am going to do in the future. A million questions are running around inside my head and I can't slow them down. Questions like, when am I going back to Nigeria? What will I do when I get there? Where am I going to work between now and then? Where am I living in the next three months? Where am I going to find a roommate? How am I going to raise support?

I am reminded that I must learn contentment in the here and now. Right now I can learn to trust God and enjoy what each new day brings. That is so un-American. We don't know how to enjoy each new day, but instead we rush around and first thing in the morning are already talking about tomorrow. Our culture forces us to plan constantly and to look for the next best thing. The last few days I have been thinking that my life would be so much better if only......here are a few things I am pondering ashamedly.

1. If only I worked at Starbucks...
2. If only I was in Nigeria...
3. If only I was more brave...
4. If only I was more intelligent...
5. If only I was less emotional...
6. If only I didn't say those things...
7. If only I didn't worry so much...
8. If only I lived closer...
9. If only I were not a nurse...
10. If only I had a less stressful job...

When I feel as if only something were different in my life God shows me that HE is all that I need, and that nothing else can satisfy me like he can. My precious Heavenly Father continues to gently remind me that he alone can fill my heart with more of him if I let him be all that I need. Until I completely surrender all to Jesus he cannot be everything to me. That is quite profound to me. He will never be my all in all if I keep using cheap substitutes to make me happy. When I think something better will come along or when I feel I am lacking something, I am always left wanting. When I get that very thing that I wanted so much there is always a letdown and feeling of disappointment. Inevitably another thing replaces the first and it appears that I will find gratification from that new thing. Yet it never happens. When will I learn? Only when I am in glory will I stop battling my flesh and earthly desires and find true and ultimate satisfaction in Christ. Until then I will continue to battle my sin and vanity.

No-one knew contentment more than Paul. I want to learn from Paul what is means to be at peace in my soul.

"For I know what it means to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength."

Philippians 4:12

These verses are glorious because they give such insight into life. Paul knew what it meant to have plenty, he also knew what it meant to have little. Yet in either situation he found contentment. He knew the secret to all of life. That only through finding strength in Jesus Christ can we find what we are looking for. What could I possibly want that has not already been given to me? Is Jesus enough for me?

What about you? Have you found what you are looking for? Praise be to God that I have found the secret to being happy; the secret is a relationship with Jesus Christ, Yesu Almasehu, the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End, the Creator and Sustainer of life, the High and Exalted One who is My Redeemer, My Fortress, my joy and my Crown.

Seeing Shaibu

Visiting Shaibu was a huge highlight during my trip back to Nigeria. Many of you remember how frail and skeletal he was almost two years ago when he first came to our ministry. He weighed a mere 4 kg at 9 months old. Now he is running all over the place and eats everything. He still clings to his grandmother like nobody's business, and refuses to talk to me but is so precious and such a miracle. If you look closely enough you can see he is even smiling small small. Oh the joy of seeing God work in amazing ways. Is our God awesome or what? Only God could raise this little boy from the dead and give him a second chance at life. May Shaibu become a follower of Jesus when he grows up...

Gyero Girls

Aunty Nicky driving the van to Gyero, a village just outside of Jos where many orphan children have been given a new home, a new life and hope for their futures through free education, discipleship, food, clothing, and medical care.

Inexpressible joy!

Sharing the gospel and praying with these women was the best part of my day. I came in the VVF clinic to greet the women and sing Hausa songs with them. After singing one of the women asked me to pray that God would send them work; most of these women come from the bush and they are very poor with great need for food and skills to provide the necessities for their families. I asked her if I could pray for them right then and they all agreed. As soon as they heard I wanted to pray many more women crowded in, and they listened with anticipation as if hearing some amazing news. I sat down on one of their filthy bunk beds and covered my head with a jean jacket because I had left my head tie at the office, and began praying. None of these women speak a word of English so I resorted to little words I know in Hausa that relate to the gospel and stumbled through praying back and forth from English to Hausa. I was truly humbled and felt like the spotlight was on me; I kept asking God for his help knowing only his Holy Spirit could speak through me to communicate what he wanted them to hear. I know that God heard and that no matter what they actually understood, God is bigger than any language barrier, he is bigger than their ability to understand, he is bigger than their beliefs and their fears of believing what we believe. I know I am here for such a time is this. I want to proclaim the gospel boldly and without fear. I pray many of these women come to saving faith in Christ. Please pray for them...

Of course seeing my kids and my husband most of all was great too (my husband is the one in the middle)

Safia is growing so much and loves this Ground nut butter I am holding. The U.S. government is providing this food for malnourished babies and it is making a huge difference for the kids who have been failing to thrive.

The joy of seeing my twins Peter and Paul was so amazing!! They came to us last year in terrible shape and so thin. Now look at them.

Larai and her new three month old Mishael. Larai was one of my closest friends in Nigeria and we worked together at Spring of Life. Right before I left she told me that she was pregnant and I could not have been happier. It was so great to see her new baby boy. Today Larai had a glow about her that I have never seen before. It was remarkable, and I can only say that God has given her such a joy to be a mommy!

There is no possible way to explain the joy of being back in Nigeria, and having the opportunity to impact so many lives. Being gone for 10 months really showed me how much I did make a difference in so many lives, and I have a fresh perspective on what I was doing on a daily basis. At times I would get burned out and think "what difference am I really making?" After seeing the joy on peoples faces when they saw me showed how important my mere presence, support, encouragement and love for the people here was. Praise Jesus! Today was truly an amazing day!

Where I belong...

The second I landed in Abuja it was like coming back home. I immediately felt a sense of belonging. Things seem to make sense here to me. My life made sense, I fit in with the culture and loved my life here, despite all the wahala (trouble) that I went through living here. I received a warm welcome at work, and all I can say is that there was much screaming (the good kind!) and tons of long hugs (Nigerians are not touchy feely people) and much laughter. I called my good friend Hajara and started singing to her in Hausa and thinking it was her Nigerian friend she was trying to guess who it was. When I told her it was me she screamed and laughed for a while, then said, "Ina zuwa, ina zuwa yanzu" (I am coming I am coming right now)! It was such an amazing feeling and in some ways I feel like I never left. Ten months seems like a day...she said "I can't stop hugging you!" What a joy to have so many people that are special in my life.

But as I dealt with what seemed like hundreds of young Nigerian men yelling "Baturi" at me as I walked down the street I remembered very quickly, "I am not in Kansas anymore." It didn't take long to remember the things that were hard or made me cry when I came the first time over two years ago. I also saw many children who have polio and are unable to walk, but resort to crawling. Many of them don't even have wheelchairs. There were several other children whose bodies are disfigured, and they were hard to look at. I felt an overwhelming feeling of sorrow again, it's almost like I forgot what that was like. I got so desensitized to it all; of course it was never easy, but I didn't think about it a lot because it is so wearing emotionally. I had to shut it out some in order to function.

God has pulled on my heartstrings again and he continues to do so until I can empathize with people so much that I love like he does. I met with a friend yesterday and he was reminding me how I need to have empathy for people and not just pity for them. It was a good point and I must say I am working on what that looks like here. I will let you know what I come up with.

I don't know what the future holds for me, and at times I don't really know how to love as Jesus loved, but I do know that at this very moment I am right where I belong.......

Leaving on a jet plane

Tomorrow I board a plane to return to Nigeria, the country that has changed my life. I am excited for this new adventure and after being away almost a year I know that as I go I am merely a "visitor" this time and no longer a "resident." Yet I speak their language and we share the same heart. The longer I have been away the more I feel I belong there.

Walking the halls

As I stepped onto the unit where I work this morning an overwhelming feeling of panic and fear came over me. What crazy things is going to happen today, I thought? How many patients am I going to lose today? I walked around with a pit in my stomach. At times working with cancer patients is too much for me to bear, why? Because I bear their burdens every day. I told a patient a few weeks ago that we as a staff are walking through his cancer journey with him, and indeed we are. Through every tube, blood transfusion, lab draw, IV, patient gown, bowel movement, catheter, medicine, urine specimen, vomit, test or procedure, bad result, whatever the patient goes through, we the nurses are right there to pick up the pieces after the doctor has delivered the bad news. Whether the news is that the cancer has come back, the tumor has spread, or that the chemo isn't working I am called to be the comforter, to listen, and to hold their hand while they cry.

Every day I deal with another excruciatingly sad story, another family burdened with sorrow to see a loved one withering away, another drip of medicine given for the patient's comfort in their last days of life.

Some days I ask God why he has called me to this work???? But then I remember that this road we walk with Jesus is not easy and can be very painful at times. I know that he who has called me is faithful....and that is the hope that I cling to. I should count it a privilege to suffer along with my patients, and God knows I always do. Nigeria is not going to be any easier and in some small way I know God is preparing me for something bigger, not necessarily better, but bigger.

As I walk down the halls of my floor I remember that I am Jesus to these people; not only am I their nurse, I am their advocate, their friend, their sister....their caregiver. We had a free ice cream social today and I went to get my patient some ice cream with extra chocolate and a few wafers. It made him so happy (of course his blood sugar was not exactly low after that, in fact he needed lots of Insulin), and I felt a mighty wave of hope, joy, confidence and contentment in that moment. I grabbed a few Cancer Survivor T-shirts they were giving away to give to my patients. As I entered the room I sprawled the T-shirt in front of his table at the foot of the bed where he could see it. I told him that whenever he got discouraged he could look at his shirt and remember that he is a Survivor. He was thankful and I know it meant so much to him. after that As the day went on as I walked past the room to check on him I noticed him looking at the shirt. Aha...

O God, my Lord and precious Savior! Thank you for this day; that in the midst of feeling totally helpless and weak I could bring joy through ice cream and a T-shirt.

Help me to find those moments in every day even when I don't feel like it. Help me to love my patients more, and to give all that I am and have to serve you!

Spring Banquet

Last night was the Spring Banquet for Moody Graduate School where we celebrated over 90 students graduating from various majors who are now entering the real world of ministry. To the left is Heidi, a dear African friend (can't you tell she is Ugandan) who spent two years in Uganda and plans to go back next year as a long term missionary. She just "gets me" and there is never an explanation needed for the way I am feeling. I can just cry on her shoulder and tell her how much I miss Nigeria and she listens and understands completely. She can feel that inner turmoil and the longings I have for another land; a land so different from my but somehow a place where I feel at home and find comfort. Thanks girl for your friendship, I am so thankful for you!

Gabby Girl

My sister-in-law Linda gave birth on April 17th to a beautiful 6 pound 14 ounce baby girl Gabrielle Hope, and I am so excited. She is precious and I am thrilled to be here to celebrate with my family. We now have Maddi, Zachary, Gracie, and Gabby. This was taken hours after she was born. Welcome to the Bertrand family Gabby girl, I love you!

How do I say goodbye to you?

Many of you remember my blog entry from last July when I left Nigeria. I wrote about a little boy named James who was three years old and my favorite of all. I met him at the very beginning of my time in Jos, back in 2005. I loved him from the very start, his beautiful smile, the way he crawled around all over and loved to cuddle with me. The very first day I met him I noticed he had a big belly and I was so worried. I picked him up and walked quickly over to the Pediatric HIV clinic and asked our missionary doctor to look at him. He started him on some medicine and said he wasn't worried. So at that point neither was I. Every time he came to see me he never wanted to leave, even when his mom would try to pick him up, he always wanted to stay with me and be near me. He loved sitting on my lap. I saw him grow and learn to walk. Then he started on ARV's and was doing well, his body was strong. There was so much life in him, so much joy. He was a picture of hope to me, despite all the losses I faced from seeing the face of AIDS on a daily basis, I would always think of James and I would smile.

Leaving Nigeria last year was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Saying goodbye to James brought much sadness for the reality of never seeing him again was a possibility that I had to deal with. I was hopeful I would see him again, though since he was doing remarkably well physically. In the back of my mind was still a lingering thought of the finality of death and the reality that James was sick with a deadly virus, no matter how good he looked. He cannot control it, but it controls him. I was looking forward to seeing James this summer when I visit Nigeria. But I heard the shocking news today that James died recently. I don't know any details, but all I do know is that the sorrow I feel today is more than I can bear. I have cried and cried on my knees today to my Father who does all things well. But today I am angry. Why James, God? Why now? Why? I don't know what to say other than I hurt. I don't understand, and I don't know how to respond to this. I have nothing left but tears......

My dear precious James,
How do I say goodbye to you today? I cannot do it, my heart hurts for you. You were four years old, you had so much life in you, why did God have to take you now? You will never sit on my lap again, and never again will my arms hold you. Never again will I look down and see your little arms clinging to my leg. I will not get to see you grow or change, and I will never see your smiling face again. I miss you James and I am crying for you now, but I must release you to Jesus. You are better off by far. One day I too will be where you are. But that day is not today, it's not today.


Love,
Aunty Susan

Washington and Wells

There he sits on the north side of the Canal street bridge, slouched over on an old blue milk crate, the hoodie from his worn down coat draped over his face. Anything to protect him from the harsh Chicago winds. He rocks back and forth to keep himself warm, his shaky hands hold out a paper cup with a few nickels and dimes in it. The clammering of coins can be heard from down the street. His hands are tired from the same old back and forth, back and forth motion of the paper cup. This cup is the reality of his homelessness; the reality that he has resorted to begging on the streets in order to get by. He is hopeful people who walk bristly past him will give him something. But by sundown his hands hang limp, and his cup is only half-full. His face grows downcast but he still hopes at least one person will notice him. But then, no-one.

My weekly interactions with "J" have caused me to ponder this problem of homelessness. People who are homeless come in all shapes and sizes, they come from various places, and for many reasons they have lost their jobs, their family, and their homes. How do I reach him, what can I do to make a difference? Should I give him money? Should I buy him food? How do I handle this issue? Many people would say that I should stay out of it and that it's not my problem. But it is everyone's problem. We are all responsible to help those who can't help themselves. Maybe "J" made some poor decisions; maybe he cheated, lied, stole something, got into debt, or became an alcoholic or drug addict. Whatever he did to get where he is today, one thing is clear. He needs help. Just one person can change his life. That person is Jesus Christ. Christ can give life and hope to my brother. He needs to see that someone out there loves him, and that he can make a change; have a different life. How will he know unless someone stops by the bridge near Washington and Wells?

We have a message to give the world, and the message which has radically changed my life can change his life. God uses us as his vessels to bring truth and hope for the hopeless, to reconcile people to God. To reconcile "J" to God.

Next time you pass by someone holding a paper cup it could be another "J." You could point them to the one who will change their life. Washington and Wells will never look the same.

As dawn is fast approaching "J" slowly rises from his plastic seat and moves to the south side of the Canal street bridge. He remains there for the night. As the lights grow dim and the passersby dwindle, he hopes to rest for a while. While he drifts off to sleep he prays to God that tomorrow will be different; that he will be the one passing by with a briefcase in one hand and a cup of coffee in another. Maybe tomorrow he tells himself, maybe tomorrow.

"I will tell them Elizabeth"

I have been home from Nigeria for eight months now and yet still feel very much a part of all that I have left behind. I relate so much to the friendliness and hospitality of the culture, but most of all I relate to the PEOPLE. I miss James, one of my little three-year old HIV kids, and Martha, who is eight and lives in the village. She never spoke more than one word to me, but I know she loved me because when she came to visit she would always want to sit on my lap, and hold my hand. I miss baby Elizabeth (left) who came to us in desperate condition, the AIDS virus had ravished her body. My heart feels a connection to these people in a special way, and I feel like I left a part of my heart there and I won't be okay until I return......so I have decided to go back to Nigeria this May for a two week visit. I pray God will bring confirmation as to where he is calling me. I pray for an amazing joy to serve his people, to love them as Christ did, and to tell all of who our Great God is!

My friend Laura introduced me to a brilliant Christian Australian singer named Brook Fraser, and she wrote a beautiful song called "Albertine." Albertine is one of the young girls she met in Rwanda who touched her heart and changed her life. The song represents her feelings of connection to her experiences in a third world country, and how she is now reconciling the horrific things she saw and experienced with what her life is like now. The chorus goes something like this:

"Now that I have seen, I am responsible, faith without deeds is dead, now that I have held you in my arms I cannot let go....."

That hit me because she is saying how she cannot turn her back now that she knows what it is like for these people who have lived their lives with sorrow upon sorrow and suffer torment we will never grasp. The darkness that Rwandans experience is something we will never understand. How can you forget the desperation of AIDS, and the devastation of being hungry and thirsty for even one drop of water, seeing children eat dirt because of lack of food, and people begging on the streets? Each time she sings that song she remembers the pain of Albertine's life. She wants for others to also see what she has seen, to open people's eyes to the overwhelming poverty and suffering of innocent people who are struggling to survive. Now that I have seen the poverty and suffering of Nigerians I cannot turn my back, and I am responsible. I cannot live life normally here and pretend I don't know what is happening in Nigeria and all over the world. As I write this blog many people are dying in the hospital of AIDS, a baby is being born with HIV, another baby is taking her last breath from AIDS, others who are HIV infected are being treated at Evangel hospital, many children are losing their mothers and fathers at this very moment, to this VIRUS called AIDS. I cannot sit here and do nothing about it. I am compelled because the love of Christ compels me to go. How can I not live my life helping these people? She has perfectly sung how I feel every single day of my life. Her song continues:

"I will tell the world, I will tell them where I have been, I will keep my word, I will tell them Albertine... Rwanda."

Elizabeth was a one-year old baby who I am holding in the above picture. She came to our ministry in such bad shape and very thin. Her body was too sick and she hadn't been eating well for many days. Her mother was also sick with HIV and didn't know she was positive. She found out that day that both her and Elizabeth were sick with HIV. We tried everything to save baby Elizabeth, feeding tubes, IV medicine and other things, but to no avail we lost her about a week later. I was sad when she died and my heart ached. Another innocent life dead and gone, I thought. Another sad situation. When will it end, Lord? When will you come and make things right? When will the suffering stop? Praise God she is now with him in glory. She is the glory baby.

The song of Albertine is also my song, but my song goes something like this: "I will tell the world, I will tell the world where I have been, Nigeria, I will tell them Elizabeth. Now that I have held her dying body in my arms, and seen her frailty, I cannot let her go, but God is calling her. I will tell them Elizabeth. Now that I have seen, I am responsible, I am responsible."

Wherever I go in this life I will tell others about Elizabeth, for she represents the darkness of AIDS in Nigeria, and she is an example of the reality of this devastating virus, but also the hope we cling to. Wherever I go I will tell them Elizabeth....so the world may know, that in the midst of this sorrow there is HOPE in Jesus.