Most of the time I write a blog post, I
imagine that the people reading it want to know about the stories and
lives of my patients in the hospital. On some occasions I branch
out. And lately I've struggled with something a little different.
My fellow missionaries.
Not the ones who serve alongside me at
Kudjip. I mean the cadre of missionaries around the world – of
whom I know a small collection – working to improve lives and share
God's love in a myriad of ways.
By nature I feel I am a competitive
person. At four years old, I joined my first soccer team – the
Hawks. We had uniforms of silver with black vertical pinstripes,
black shorts and black socks. I played goalie for one game and let
in a bunch of goals. I quickly got out of the goal box into
“midfield” - though positions at that age are laughable in soccer.
We barely had a winning season.
I can't remember anything else about
being four, but I remember my first team. Throughout my life I have
LOVED soccer – the competitive nature, the teamwork, being outside
in all weather and how the skills were so international.
In high school, once I stopped messing
around being a rebellious teenager, I crushed my school work and
standardized tests, carrying the same attitude into undergraduate
studies and medical school.
Clearly one of my proudest moments
In some ways I like this nature – it
pushes me to excel, to accept challenges and to hit problems head on
and work hard.
But there is a downside, and I'm
learning it, albeit slowly.
I struggle comparing myself and my
ministry to other missionaries frequently. Competing with my
co-laborers.
We have friends serving in parts of the
world that I can't even mention. We have friends serving in parts of
the world with the worst health statistics in most categories. We
have friends serving in battle zones - in the backyard of ISIS. We
have friends in some really difficult places. And recently I've
encountered various “movements” which emphasize certain parts of
the world neglected by missions.
Why do I find myself disliking these
movements?
Because the place I work is surrounded
by tropical jungle and lush gardens? Because the majority of this
island is “Christian”? Because the temperature varies from 55 to
85 degrees? Because my mission field isn't in the 10/40 window or on
somebody's list of tough-to-reach places? Because I'm not the “best”
missionary I know?
Our rugged mission field
Sadly, yes.
So I've had a bit of a bad attitude. I haven't acted on it much, but isn't it wrong to even
harbor ill will toward your brother in your heart? More
importantly, I'm realizing the effect it has on my own ministry here.
Am I minimizing the kinds of things I can do to show
God's love among the PNG highlanders because I'm too preoccupied
with how my efforts stack up against someone else?
This week I've sat down and joined my
hands in prayer with patients who won't survive a year, a month or
even a week. I've prayed for them full of nothing but tears. I've
told people they have HIV and that their lives will never be the
same. I've told a young mother her child is dying of cancer and
there's nothing to be done for them. I've told a husband that his wife and mother to his four children will not live through her hospital stay – and been sadly proven
right within a couple of days. I've pushed the last few breaths into
the life of a young man that I know would have survived if he lived
in a country with intensive care units.
But are none of them considered “high
priority” because they are not on somebody's list or in the "window"?
So close ...
In my exam
room, the operating room or walking the wards surrounded by the
sounds of grieving family members - have I allowed myself to
believe that? And to question if my time and energy is worthwhile in
this place? Sometimes, I have.
(Note: obviously this is not necessarily the belief of those involved in difficult places or these kinds of movements, but my own personal challenge)
So I apologize to my comrades around the world for having a bad attitude - thinking that my ministry needs to compete with others. But also to my ministry here in PNG because I've let that competitive
spirit skew my perception of the sacred work that we've been given to
do, each in our different ways to different people.
And going forward, I pray that I can
learn to better appreciate whatever way God allows me to bring
genuine healing and hope to people, families, the mountains of PNG
and, in some way, the world that He desperately hopes to restore.
“O most loving God, who in the Person
of Thy Son Jesus Christ didst manifest Thy love to man by relieving
all manner of suffering and healing all manner of disease, grant Thy
blessing, I pray, to all who in any corner of the world are serving
in Christ's name:
All ministers of the gospel of Christ:
All social workers:
All missionary workers abroad:
All doctors and nurses who faithfully
tend the sick.
Accomplish through them Thy great
purpose of goodwill to men, and grant them in their own hearts the
joy of Christ's most real presence.”
-John Baillie
