“One does not
surrender a life in an instant. That which is lifelong can only be surrendered
in a lifetime.”
~Jim Elliot
I was sixteen years old when God called me to be a
missionary doctor, although I’m certain that He has been in the process of
preparing me for this work my whole life. I don’t think I ever doubted that
this is what the Lord created me to do. Through college, medical school and
surgery residency, I had this singular purpose in mind as God continued to give
form to my vision and fuel my passion. I
graduated from residency, passed the American Board of Surgery exams to become
board certified, and completed training with both Samaritan’s Purse and SIM.
One year ago, after a lifetime of education, months of preparation, weeks of
packing and goodbyes, and about 30 hours of traveling, I arrived in
Zambia. It’s hard to believe a year has
gone by already! So I thought I would
take the next few posts to reflect on what the past year has brought, to
recount the things I have learned and the ways I have grown, and to remember
what the Lord has done.
Some say that the first year on the mission field is the
most difficult year in the life of a missionary. I suppose this is true,
although having spent only one year here, I don’t have much basis for
comparison J. It has been a good year. I have learned so
much in the way of surgery and medicine in rural Zambia. I’ve taken care of
hundreds of patients and have witnessed God at work in healing bodies and
hearts and minds. I have become part of a community of missionaries who have
been faithfully serving the Lord here in Zambia, some for as long as 40 years!
I have made friends with several of the Zambian hospital staff and am slowly
learning the culture and language of the Kaonde people. I’ve given lectures at
the nursing school, spoken in chapel services, and have overseen visiting
medical students doing elective rotations at Mukinge. In the relaxed pace of
life here, I have found plenty of time to read, to rest, to go on walks and to
sometimes just sit on the porch and watch the rain. I have grown in my walk
with God and have gotten to know Jesus more deeply and fully than before. It
has been a good year.
It has been a hard year too.
Hard in ways that I expected, but also in ways that I didn’t know how to
expect.
The first few days and weeks in Zambia were a whirlwind of
activity and excitement – taking the Zambian medical licensing exam, shopping
for groceries, making the short mission flight from Lusaka to Mukinge, meeting
the missionaries, moving in and unpacking, seeing Mukinge Hospital for the
first time, walking through the wards, and getting acquainted with the
operating room. It was thrilling and overwhelming and terrifying all at once.
Here I was, finally a missionary doctor, finally in Africa, finally realizing
my lifelong dream.
It’s difficult to describe what it felt like (and still feels
like) to have finally arrived at the goal toward which I had been working so
hard for so long and to discover that even greater challenges were before me. Maybe
like reaching the top of a high mountain, only to find a great chain of
mountains waiting on the other side. Not that I was naïve to the challenges I
would encounter once I arrived, but how does one really and truly prepare to move
to a new country, learn a new culture and a new language, live a new community,
start a new job, join a new church and engage in an entirely new way of life? I was taken out of my comfort zone in nearly
every facet of daily life. I knew that no one expected me to have it all
figured out or to feel at ease right away. I didn’t really expect me to have it
all figured out either. But I was not accustomed to not having all the pieces of my life fit together neatly and
comfortably. This confident, independent, driven, and – let’s face it – proud
young surgeon felt something she wasn’t used to feeling. I felt lost.
On Friday nights, the missionaries get together for potluck
and a movie. My first Friday night at Mukinge, it was pouring rain and pitch
black outside as I tried to navigate my way along unfamiliar paths carrying a
flashlight, an umbrella, and a hot casserole dish. I kept a keen eye out for
snakes as I walked through tall grass and slippery mud, up and down wrong roads
until I finally found the house where potluck was being held.
That experience seemed to exemplify how I was feeling on the
inside – I thought I knew where I was supposed to be going, and I thought I had
all the right tools to get there. But once I actually stepped out alone into
the dark and rainy night, all of a sudden the way didn’t seem clear at all. As
I slogged through grass and mud, the hot dish burning my hands through thin
potholders, and unseen deadly snakes lurking in the shadows just waiting to
strike, I wasn’t sure how I would make it to potluck. Going home wasn’t really
an option. I knew that turning around
and trying to find my way back to my house would be equally as treacherous.
The devil is well known for using these times of uncertainty
and change to attempt to sow fear and doubt into the hearts of men. Just like
his encounter with Eve in the Garden of Eden, he sneaks up in the darkness and
whispers, “did God really say…?” (Genesis
3:1). And so it was, in this time of
feeling lost and uncertain that for the first time since I first heard Him say
to me, “This is it Sarah. This is what I
want you to do,” I questioned God’s calling.
Was it possible that I had been wrong, that I had heard God
incorrectly or that I had made this whole thing up in my head? Did He have any idea just how overwhelmed I
was by the high mountains before me or how completely inadequate I felt? These
questions and insecurities brought me to my knees before the Lord. He was gracious
to answer, and slowly my heart was at peace.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will
not set you ablaze.
~Isaiah 43:2
The short answer is that, no, I had not heard God
incorrectly all those years ago when He first called me to be a missionary
doctor, and yes, He knew exactly how I felt. In those first weeks and months at
Mukinge, He confirmed and reaffirmed the same call I had heard as a teenager.
This is what I was created to do. The Lord had guided me through many intense
years of studying and training. He had given me the skills and the knowledge
that I needed and the resources to learn how to care for the diseases and
ailments I would encounter in Zambia. Most of all, He had given me a great
passion in my heart for every person to know this great news that they are
created and loved by God, that He sent Jesus to pay the penalty for their sins,
and that He offers the free gift of salvation to any and all who will choose to
receive it. He had never promised that it would be easy or that I would see the
whole way clearly before me. But He did promise that He would be with me.
It’s been a good year. And if it's true that the first
year is the hardest, I’ll say it’s nice to have that one under my belt. I am
grateful for what the Lord has taught me and the ways in which He has shaped my
character through the challenges of being a brand new missionary.
Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;
you have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance
I will praise the Lord who counsels me;
even at night, my heart instructs me.
I have set the Lord always before me.
Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.
~Psalm 16:5-8
