Operating on Faith

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."Heb. 11:1

It's hard to believe that my Dad will be leaving on Friday. It's already been a month since we greeted him on the gangway. But, sadly, the time is drawing near when our trio will soon be down to two. It has been an honour to have him here, to share the same dream and vision with my Dad. No words can describe it. The last few afternoons, my Dad and I have been enjoying the view and breeze off of the top deck. We've been able to talk about our experiences on the ship. That in itself has been a highlight of this trip. We work in very different capacities on the ship, but the people we help are the same.

This afternoon in conversation he said, "so many times we have operated in faith..." I have been thinking about this phrase ever since. Limitations. Doesn't matter where in the world you are, we will always run into that word. We are limited in our ability. We are limited in our supplies. We are limited in our knowledge. We are limited by our own exhaustion. We are limited by the abilities and weaknesses of others. The list is endless. This 10 letter word has been the topic of our conversations as of late. To quote him, "If you put a sick child in my arms in the middle of a Western children's hospital many things can be done. But, put a sick child in my arms in the middle of the dusty roads of Cotonou and I may as well not be there." This ship is limited by the people who volunteer, the supplies that are donated, and by so many other things. In comparison, yes, this is a first rate hospital compared to anything inland and has many modern amenities. But at times, so very illequiped. It is in these very challenging times that we must all operate in faith.

Our experience here in Africa on the ship, is not easily translatable. We try to give you a taste through our blog entries, but the truth is you will never meet the people in the pictures. I have been struggling with this reality lately. The one and only thing I so desperately want to communicate is that these people are PEOPLE, they are human beings, created for a purpose, created to be loved and to love. But in this world of mass media and world vision commercials, you are immune. There is very little I can say that will shock you, truly. We live in a world that reads about bombs and mass casualties during breakfast. During lunch, we learn about the latest murder trial, 3000 dead in [enter place of your choice], flip channel...blink... I can say all these things bluntly because I'm guilty of it too. I've been there.

My hope is that your heart can be softened just a little, to think twice about the blessings in your life and to be thankful for them. Oh, but do i wish you could meet our patients. Sadly, you will not see them smile, hear their hearts beat, shake their hands, give them huge hugs or share in their tears. You will see them, but you won't know them. You will know their stories, but not see their faces of celebration, or their faces of sadness. You will not really understand that these are people, worthy of the BEST this world can offer. Worthy of clean water, adequate nutrition and properly trained health care professionals.

It is the knowledge that there is a worldly possibility for better lives that troubles Dad and I. That thought in the back of our minds, "now, if only they were in Canada ____ could be done" that eats away at our consciences. The medical equipment, people, you name it exists, we live in the place where it exists. We live where, now thinking about it, limitation is a very unfamiliar word. But we are here in Africa, on this ship, and a child is sick. That word may as well be lit up in fluorescence on our foreheads. No amount of hoping and wishing will make her better.

Here, we operate on faith... faith that this person, this child will see another day, and that the little we can do will help. Faith that our limitations will not limit their little lives, faith that God is bigger than we are, bigger than medical supplies.

These people, these children are alive, they live, they breathe, they feel, they love. They are not merely an image on a screen.



Please never forget that.

"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Cor. 18