Home

My kitties, Oreo and Pepa, during our last nap the day before we said goodbye.

What does home mean to you? I have moved around a lot, and for the past 18 years home has either meant my current house or apartment or St. Paul, Minnesota. Right now, though, I don't really live anywhere. I moved out of my house in August in anticipation of selling it and got rid of most of my things. My friend Nadia has been fabulous to let me stay at her house while I'm in Arizona (and store lots of things there), but in reality that will be only a few scattered weeks as I travel to several states between now and January.

Tonight I was having dinner with a lovely family from my home church. The food was delicious: Greek spanakopita, Syrian lamb-stuffed grape leaves, and a salad dressed in the Syrian style (lemon juice, oil, and spearmint!). The conversation was highly varied, from how to make caramel/chocolate/nut/licorice spiders with Tiffani to ancient history with Justin to parasites with Bob and then to guinea pigs with the Weitrick family that stopped by. Margaret and I then adjourned for a little light after-dinner conversation: fun topics like blood diamonds, the Taliban, human trafficking, child prostitution, etc. But really, we were talking about how once you know about these things, you want to make a difference, even in just one person's life. And this is why I want or need to do mission work full-time, because I can't stop thinking about these things. Not in an obsessive way or anything, but being aware of these things leads me to want to do something. Some people are called to pray or to raise awareness or to give money to organizations that will do something, I think that I am called to go.

After dinner I had to stop by my house to work on something. I started to cry when I walked in there because I wanted it all back. I wanted the furniture, every piece of which had a story -- mostly being from relatives or gotten for free years and years ago. I wanted my two beloved cats back. I wanted my home.

And yet what do I really want? Margaret and I talked about the exciting adventure of being able to be a blessing in other people's lives and the amazing grace that we are given while we serve. We also talked about it as being a little crazy sometimes. Several people have mentioned to me in the past week that they are impressed that I would give up potentially lucrative career as a physician in the U.S. To me, that's not the crazy part. What is crazy is trusting that I will not receive any formal salary, but instead live on voluntary financial support. My home church, Epic Christian Church, has committed to supporting 70% of my financial needs on an ongoing basis (also crazy -- Epic has been a good place for me to learn more wacky, godly, trusting attitudes about money). We are having a "Great Global Giveaway" over this next week -- asking people to give as they are led and trusting God for Epic's portion needed for 2008, a mere $28,000. Yesterday was a day of fasting and prayer for me, the upcoming offering, and what God is doing around the world.

On the plus side, life isn't boring.

"By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God....These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one." Hebrews 11: 8 - 10, 13 - 16a

Not a quick fix

September 12, 2007

Above is a photo of me taking Doña Marta's blood pressure. She and I hardly spoke before the above picture was taken -- her husband, Don Donato, (the cacique, or leader of the Wichi village) said that he wanted me to evaluate her medically and that he would interpret for me since she spoke limited Spanish. I don't know if you can appreciate it in the photo, but I was rather irritated. You see, in a village like this -- dangerous open cooking fires, little food, and lots of social and political problems (for example, the majority of the Wichi land was recently made into a federal park and they are not allowed to harvest wood on the national park land) -- there was a lot more involved with this woman's health than I could solve in one visit, yet so many hopes (her husband's and those who came with us to the village) seemed to be pinned on it. Secondly, 90% of the primary care physician's diagnosis comes from the history, and I didn't know how to get an accurate history. Instead of interpreting, Don Donato answered most of the questions I asked without any input from her, and added a lot about his own symptoms as well. I've seen people "diagnose" from one or two questions before -- this happened daily in the Philippines during the military's humanitarian mission where I saw people given Advil to "cure" their chest pain. To me, that way of doing medicine is disrespectful, not least because it raises false hopes.

I mentioned to Don Donato that from what I could tell, some labs tests would be helpful. We then started talking, and he brought up the fact that people came to them and gave them pills or wrote prescriptions, but that his people just got sick again later. I asked him if he would like the villagers to be trained so that they would know a lot about their own medical problems and would be able to prevent many of them. We discussed a screening that would help determine what issues were in the village (parasites, malnutrition) and then offering training to his people. He said that he would like that, since "it's not just medicine that is needed." Please pray that the people of his village, Ebenezer, will indeed receive that screening (we talked about it happening some time in February) and that it will be a catalyst for them to learn how to help their village.

Later on Doña Marta and I spoke some as we walked around her land. She showed me how she harvested fibers from a plant to make the beautiful weaving we had admired. We shared some laughs as I tried to pronounce some names in Wichi, including the word "Wichi" itself. I was glad to connect with her, even if only in a small way.

Independent Woman

With apologies to Destiny's Child, I'm not sure that being an independent woman is all it's cracked up to be. My lifestyle of independence has not prepared me for this new phase. Back in college, I was blessed that the money my parents had saved plus scholarships was enough to pay for tuition. Each year we thought I would need to borrow, but never did. I had a two friends in college (Teri and Deb) who had to work like crazy to support themselves and still had quite a bit of debt. This story isn't about me not being blessed financially, because I was, but about my attitude of independence.

Except for holiday gifts I don't recall receiving any cash from my parents the first 10 years after I left home. The first two years I lived in the dorms and had work-study jobs that paid for my books, toiletries, and other expenses. When I moved to an apartment the summer before third-year, it simply never occurred to me to ask for money for room and board. I used the money I earned during the summer and then at my school-year work-study job for rent, food, and all other expenses. Spring semester I realized that I would need to save up money for my upcoming fall semester abroad. It never occurred to me to ask for money for this. I simply got a second job and worked 40 hours a week spring semester, despite the full course load. In the summer I worked two jobs totaling at least 60 hours a week (which didn't seem like a lot compared to my then-boyfriend who consistently worked 80 hours per week) and saved what I could.

I graduated the following year on a Saturday and started working for the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association the next Monday. I started out at 40 hours per week at minimum wage, but quickly started working overtime, which since I was paid by the hour was nice. After two years I quit that job to start taking pre-med requirements, mostly full-time, occasionally over. The first summer and fall quarter I was able to only work one part-time job by using the over-time savings I had built up, but after that I took a second and then a third part-time job to make ends meet. It never occurred to me to ask my parents for money for school or to slow down. I just worked more -- the weekends were especially brutal with Friday and Saturday night-shifts as a nursing station technician at a pediatric ICU then working most of Sunday as the Senior High Youth Minister at my church. Mornings before class I worked as a home health aide at an assisted living facility.

During medical school and residency I traveled several times to Third World countries to visit missionaries and to do mission work. It never occurred to me to ask for donations for this, I simply used money that I had saved. In fact, it only occurred to me last year that I could have asked for donations when I told my friend Nadia this would be a new lifestyle for me and she was surprised I had never received donations before.

My parents would probably have loaned or given me money if I had asked. They are both more generous with each passing year. In fact I think I did end up borrowing some money from my mother when I was overseas and some from my Dad later over the years for some used cars. But the point is, for some reason, it didn't occur to me to ask. I thought I had to do everything on my own.

My new "salary" will come 100% from donations. This includes all moving expenses, all work expenses, and all monthly living expenses. I received my last paycheck last month, and thought I'd saved enough money for all of my living and ministry expenses to last through these next three months of support-raising in the U.S. Then my house didn't sell. As I was driving back from San Diego last week, I was thinking about all of these things, and realized I was being led into an even deeper area of trust. I realized that despite being committed to living fully on support for the foreseeable future I had saved enough, I had planned enough, etc. Don't get me wrong -- I'm still very into hard work and thriftiness. However, I think that I have established some seriously independent ways of thinking that are going to make this new way of living/being more difficult.

Ah-choo!

I've been back in Phoenix a full week now, but laid up with a cold which is getting worse, not better. Hopefully I'll be back on my feet next week, because I have a lot more that I want to write about -- stay tuned!

Jogging

This is what I saw while running yesterday at Pacific Beach. Three times running in a week -- woo-hoo! I know, some people live like this, not considering it a supreme victory to run three times in a week -- or three times since last February, another way of looking at it. :)
I stayed to watch the sunset. Very lovely.


I picked up a Henri Nouwen book yesterday at my stepsister's: The Return of the Prodigal Son. Here's an excerpt: "I am the prodigal son every time I search for unconditional love where it cannot be found. Why do I keep ignoring the place of true love and persist in looking for it elsewhere? Why do I keep leaving home where I am called a child of God, the Beloved of my Father? I am constantly surprised at how I keep taking the gifts God has given me -- my health, my intellectual and emotional gifts -- and keep using them to impress people, receive affirmation and praise, and compete for rewards, instead of developing them for the glory of God."

Below is a description of some of the work that Nouwen is called to. I think this is also an apt description of my new job, but also a description of what all of us, who have heard the Father's voice, are called to: "I have to kneel before the Father, put my ear against his chest and listen, without interruption, to the heartbeat of God. Then, and only then, can I say carefully and very gently what I hear. I know now that I have to speak from eternity into time, from the lasting joy into the passing realities of our short existence in this world, from the house of love into the houses of fear...."

I too quickly focus on my to-do list. I'm naturally do-er, not a be-er. I love to accomplish things. The past few days have been really lovely, because not only have I accomplished things (coordinating speaking engagements in Ohio, making final arrangements for an apartment in Buenos Aires, etc.) but because I been trying not to focus on my list(s). I have sensed a deep need to pray more as part of my new job. I have also been really blessed with the relationship with my stepsister this past week, and our discussions about life, God, feminism, George Clooney, etc. She has also been introducing me to interesting people here who have a heart for what God is doing around the world. Nouwen is so right: we have to listen to God, commit to hearing and seeing truth, and then we can go and do, while somehow still being (ala Brother Lawrence).

San Diego

View from Point Loma Nazarene University, where my stepsister works and where I stopped by for some free wi-fi.

I’ve been hanging around in San Diego for a few days after the medical conference. While I really enjoy being with other people, the past six weeks were really intense. I had two days mostly to myself this weekend. One night I was reading Donald Miller’s Through Painted Deserts, which is about a road trip he took from Texas to Oregon. He reminded me a lot of my friend Jacquelyn, who experiences spiritual things much more clearly when surrounded by nature. I think most of us are more connected with the deeper things in the universe when surrounded by a beautiful woods or desert, but Jacquelyn intentionally seeks this out so that she can re-charge. A wise woman.

A one point in the book the author is outside waiting for the sunrise in Oregon and he writes:

These mountains, which have seen untold sunrises, long to thunder praise but stand reverent, silent so that man’s weak praise should be given God’s attention.

When Jesus road into Jerusalem on the day now known as Palm Sunday, his followers started shouting like crazy. Dr. Luke writes that they were praising God and rejoicing “with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen,” and some of the religious leaders told Jesus to make them hush. He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”

Southern California is a wonderful place to praise God. Inspired by the readings, I went to Torrey Pines on Saturday. I hiked and ran on trails through scrubby pine with a view of cliffs and ocean. Then I watched the sunset over the water on a sandy beach. Last night I jogged on the boardwalk at Pacific Beach, one of my favorite places here: it’s a mix of beautiful beach and funky people. There I ran with my IPod, but could still hear the waves. It makes me think about how it’s true that we really need to be re-charged in nature and re-connect with a much deeper spirituality, in part because we are then able to have the vision to see God in the people around us. So on one side of me was the ocean just after sunset with the constant pounding of waves, and on the other side were children, beach bums, and frat boys, all bearing the image of God.

San Diego conference

September 30 – October 4, 2007

Thankfully, life isn’t all work. A good friend of mine from medical school, Jenny, came to the medical conference to get her pediatric credits. One night there was a reception – here is Jenny with her husband Ken:

My stepsister Karina lives in this fabulous city. She came to the reception with us:

Thursday, October 4, was the last day of the conference. We had lectures from 6:30 am to 9:30 am (which Ken says lawyers would never do, and Karina agrees that English and rhetoric types would never start that early), and then the rest of the day was free. I went with Jenny’s family to Coronado Island. Here’s her family, including her mom Kathy, with “the Del” in the background:

Here is Grace, my goddaughter, enjoying making sandcastles:

And here’s Kate, who moments later was frolicking in the waves but at the time of this photo was still uncertain if she approved of the concept:

No fear

October 3, 2007

Flowers at Balboa Park.

I left a lecture a few minutes early – too sleepy! I went outside to a balcony at the San Diego Convention Center to think and pray. I am challenged here at the conference because I truly love clinical medicine. There are a lot of frustrations in primary care, but I love emergency medicine, addiction medicine, tuberculosis, osteopathic manipulative medicine, and more. I started thinking about how I am leaving clinical medicine to do holistic work, including community health and prevention, which I also love. I started wondering if this was the right decision.

And then I realized: I’m not choosing to leave clinical medicine forever, or to move to Argentina for the rest of my life. That may be the way that things turn out, but that is not what I am doing. I am choosing to follow God, and right now this is what God has for me.

How freeing! No condemnation, no judgment, no worry, no fear!

Give thanks

Sand dunes in California.

I returned to the U.S. on Sunday morning, and got into my car at the airport to drive to San Diego for a medical conference. I need to get a certain amount of continuing medical education courses for my medical license and to maintain my board certification.

Thankfully I had been able to catch a couple of hours of sleep on one of the flights, and the bright Arizona sunshine also helped to keep me awake.

I also had a great CD of worship music, compiled by my friend Erin. I was thinking about the previous weeks and what it means to be in this new career, which I variously describe as:

1. Missionary
2. Medical missionary
3. Facilitator of community health and development
4. Leaving clinical practice to teach prevention and holistic health

While fueling in Yuma, Arizona, a man pointed out to me (in Spanish) that my left rear tire was flat. After following various bits of advice by helpful people which didn’t pan out (since most places are closed on Sundays), I called AAA which directed me to the nearby Wal*Mart. The tire was able to be repaired in less than an hour. I say all of this because during the entire several-hour experience, I was really in a place of trust. I was so thankful that:

1. The flat was pointed out to me before the wheel was ruined
2. I was in a city
3. I was at a gas station where I could add enough air to get to the repair place without having to change to the spare tire
4. A repair shop was open on a Sunday
5. I had a cell phone to make the calls to AAA and to my friends to say I would be late
6. It wasn’t super-hot (only 98 degrees)
7. I was still feeling really quite awake.

I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself for having been up for 35 hours or really needing a shower or for getting a flat tire or for having to give money to a Wal*Mart. I was truly thankful. Now, maybe I was just in a state of exhaustion. Or maybe I really am beginning to learn to trust God.

In August I got together with Sharon, an awesome woman of God who started a prison ministry through which I’ve volunteered. We are both a little busy, and so hadn’t seen one another since well before Christmas last year, and so Sharon gave me my Christmas presents in August. One of the presents was a bracelet with hearts which are engraved with portions of 1 Thessalonians 5:16 – 18:

Be joyful always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances.

Spring, fall, and mate

September 29, 2007

Just hours before I was to leave Argentina, Annie’s husband Bill returned from Mexico. I think the last time I saw him was in the mid-90s in Minnesota. We picked him up from the airport and were on our way to a restaurant. One of his first questions to Annie was, “Did you bring the mate?”

Of course! Perfect for drinking in the car:

Or outside the restaurant:

I believe Annie and Bill have been married for 44 years.

On our way back to the airport, we saw the famous Ezeiza woods with their new spring leaves:

The next day, on my way from Phoenix to San Diego, I saw leaves changing to their fall colors:

Asado!

Well, learning so much over a week can be taxing. As we are trained to be better trainers, we require good food to sustain us. A rousing call for ASADO was heard and responded to (asado is the method of roasting/grilling meat responsible for the typical Argentine dish, carne asada).

Here is Horacio, drinking mate to sustain himself through the hard task of being the asador:

Here are some photos showing the technique:

We didn’t just eat on our breaks; we also enjoyed the spring sunshine. Below is Chichi, from Cordoba, and me:

We also said “hasta luego,” or “until later,” not knowing exactly when we would see each other again. It is amazing how quickly one can feel at home with people despite cultural and language difference. Being brothers and sisters in Christ and sharing the same hopes and dreams for our communities quickly knit our hearts together (okay, it sounds cheesy, but it’s true!). Below is a photo of Ayelen and me. Ayelen is from Rosario, the third-largest (or second-largest, according to those from there!) city in Argentina. She is only 18 years-old, but excited and motivated and now even more equipped to work for change in her community.

Urban Training of Trainers 1

"It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror or a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.”

C.S. Lewis, “Weight of Glory”

Urban Training of Trainers 1, September 24 – 28, 2007

Gathering to learn about how to effectively work in inner city settings, we represented Brazil, Venezuela, Bolivia, and the three largest cities of Argentina: Buenos Aires, Cordoba, and Rosario.

We learned how to ask questions to help those in our target communities see what they have to offer: asset-based community development. We looked for the values and beliefs that led to negative behaviors and outcomes in our communities, seeking to identify the underlying worldviews.

We looked at the various “players” in our communities, ranking them in terms of power and influence.

We sang songs together about hope (a Venezuelan couple, Marcelo, and Bibiana).

We sang crazy songs and laughed together (Gaby, Silvia, and Nora, wonderfully dedicated women from Buenos Aires).

“And we all…are being transformed…from one degree of glory to another.” 2 Corinthians 3:18a

The Liberator

On Sunday, September 23, I went to the Libertador Church in Buenos Aires. This church has been working for some time in a slum 150 km away, and for the past year has been starting to incorporate CHE principles in their work. My friend Annie goes to this church, and it is also my supervisor Bibiana’s home church.

A month ago something terrible happened within the church. Bibiana and I spoke with the pastor after the service and he said that they were receiving help and support from many other churches in town. The combination of the open and humble attitude of the leadership of the Libertador church and the current church climate in Argentina, where denominational differences have ceased to be divisive, has led to great unity.

During the church service the pastor encouraged the church members to use all means of communication to bless other people, not to spread gossip. He even went so far as to give time in the service to pray over cell phones and use them to encourage others. What an amazing story of God's grace moving when we are humble and prepared to give over all of ourselves to God. How exciting to begin working in Argentina at such a time as this!

After church we went for asado at a nearby restaurant. Here are some of us:

Several servings of appetizer (melted cheese with ham and empanadas), different salads, and four courses of meat were available. In the photo below you can see tripe and kidneys.