home again, home again, jiggity-jig

Guys! I am back from Lingira to Hopeland in Jinja. The time on the island was one of testing and challenges. I am proud of my team. These last couple days that we are in Uganda will be spent debriefing, saying good-byes and packing. The thought of leaving this continent soon is sad and realistic but the joy that awaits me is attractively close...Here is a short testimony to give glory to our G*od from the island...

Last week we were speaking at a neighboring camp in a Sunday service. While having lunch with the pa*stors we were told about a labouring woman next door. We had been in fai*th for some deliveries and immediately I felt a hug from G*od as we heard this news, all that I, and the others, had been pra*ying for, had amounted to this answer. Strategically, we divided up who would stay with the mom, who would go back to our camp to get the birth bag and found the meeting point. Once we were all united, we learned that the mom’s name was Joy, that this was her seventh delivery and she had already been labouring for 20 hours. We began to monitor Joy and her baby closely. Hour after hour we thought that surely the baby was coming soon. In the third hour of monitoring her, meconium stained waters came, a sign of fetal distress. In the hospitals we wouldn’t worry so much because if anything went seriously wrong, they are in the right place. But here, on an island, almost two hours away from the mainland, we wanted the baby to come quick! We thought the baby was coming because the mother was pushing so feverishly with each contraction, but when we checked internally she was only 6cm dilated. We invited the presence of G*od and spoke life over the distressed baby. We needed G*od’s wisdom in what to do if the baby didn’t come shortly. At this point she was now reaching 24 hours of labour and we spoke to the family about the need to take her into Jinja, they cooperated and understood the severity and fragility of the baby. Quicker than expected, a boat was in order and we were ready to sail in the night. The mother had been told by a neighbor that she should continue to push with each of the pains that came, and each time we told her to stop she would only keep pushing, even as we began sailing on Lake Victoria. Wanting to be cautious, with each contraction we would shine a light, just to make sure the baby wasn’t coming. Robyn sat closely to Joy, rubbing her back when the pain would come and Hollie led us in some wor*ship songs to comfort the mom. The majesty of the L*ord was evident; he was there with us the boat and all around us in the lightning storm, with the fisherman and in the reflection of the moon on the water. I cannot deny the feeling of G*od there with us. On a routine push, Hollie shined the light and there was the baby’s head. I couldn’t believe it. We shouted at the driver, but he didn’t stop. We continued driving and the baby kept coming. Once the head was out, I had a difficult time not only with leverage but also the head did not want to come. Then I felt the cord was tightly twice around the neck. Finally we were able to yell loud enough to stop and I clamped and cut the cord and quickly delivered the body. The baby boy was flaccid and not crying. Bulb suction, stimulation, bag and mask, all of us rescussed anyway we could. Slowly his heart rate picked up and his eyes opened. The whole time Joy was calling out for Je*sus, she said nothing but his name. After about a half hour and a somewhat stabilized baby, it was decided that we would return to Kyoya camp to Joy’s house. Pra*yers of thanksgiving were endless as we rode back to the island. G*od’s hand had surely been in the difficult delivery. Although the baby wasn’t in great condition, we pra*yed and trusted the L*ord to keep him through the night and told the family to come and get us if need be. I am blessed to share with you that the next morning when we came back, we heard the baby before we saw him. He let out a cry that we had been pra*ying for the night before. G*od heard our pra*yers and the cries of his mother and brought full health to this baby boy. As we were rocking in the boat, pra*ying over the weak, deflexed newborn, G*od spoke the name Moses to me, “saved from the water” is what it means. Joy giggled when she heard this the day after and called her boy just that. Man, my G*od is a mighty G*od. All that he ordained happened that day and to him is the glory. I consider myself blessed to know the name of Je*sus and be a part of a team who serves him together.