Every single day someone tells them:
“Get out of Africa!”
“While you still can!"
But those who are able--
Because there is solidarity in shared danger.
Because it is a holy privilege and worth the risk.
Because people who are hurting and afraid need Immanuel--
God with them.
Medical missionaries serve some of the most vulnerable populations in the world. And as the pandemic spreads, their needs greatly intensify with every passing day.
They are dealing with the same travel bans, closed schools, and social distancing mandates as the rest of the world. And like most medical professionals, they are still showing up for work -- but with drastically fewer supplies and staff.
But pandemic or not…
Babies are still being born.
And some need a surgical escape route or a deliberate jump start on breathing.
Malarial mosquitoes are still biting and someone needs to put in IV's and administer artesunate.
TB still spreads insidiously until a canary-in-the-coal-mine toddler shows up with listless coughing and dwindling life, and needs a test and some medicine.
Typhoid still punches holes in guts that need an emergency surgery.
People are still needlessly dying from curable blindness.
Hunger still stalks, and infants still need to be warmed and weighed and fed.
“So I put on my mask, remember my training, and audibly pray (through my own fear) as I begin to intubate my patient.”
Walking into the mission hospital feels very different these days.
The very air is charged with fear.
This pandemic is taking its toll.
There is much grief and sorrow.
“How do I interact with my patients from a place of safety but not of fear?”
Because I believe where there is collateral damage...there will be collateral grace.
That is the basic premise of the universe founded on love:
God is at work to bring fruit from the seed that dies.
To bring joy from the tears that fall.
And nothing can stop that.
〜Adapted from the blogs of Serge Missionaries〜
Dr. Jennifer Myhre, serving in Uganda, and Dr. Arianna Shirk, serving in Kenya