“My grace is sufficient for you,” God reminds me.

“But I need those things.”

“You have enough. I have given you what you need for right now.”

The lack of water or electricity puts a stop to household chores but gives Nancy extra time to love on some orphans.

Contentment isn’t natural. Paul the apostle also had to learn contentment, which actually makes me feel a little better. He even called it a secret.

…I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4: 12-13

I don’t think the secret Paul discovered was that God gave him strength. I think the secret Paul discovered was that God, the source of his strength, was enough.

Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Psalm 73:25-26

Raising children in a developing nation is risky, albeit adventurous. I knew that before we came, but it isn’t something one tends to think about until something happens that gives you a startling reminder. Saturday evening Daniel dropped a bottle of Coke and it shattered. A piece of glass bounced off the floor and cut his leg pretty deeply. We could see his bone. Our first thought was to call a missionary we know who is a nurse, only to discover she was gone to the interior and couldn’t be reached. We had no choice but to take him to a clinic here and hope for the best. Traffic was terrible. Sometimes when we are driving here I am reminded of a Discovery Toys Rush Hour game my kids used to have with a bunch of cars and trucks, all facing different directions and practically touching one another, unable to move. Add loud honking, dozens of pedestrians weaving in and out the best they can, shouting, and exhaust fumes and that’s what it looked like Saturday evening.

Daniel had been bleeding a lot and I had him in the back seat with his leg propped up while I held the wound shut; and while we were stuck, his leg just spontaneously stopped bleeding and didn’t bleed again until he was safe in the clinic being examined. Finally a hole just big enough to turn our jeep around opened up and we retraced our steps and went “the back way” to the clinic. There was a nurse outside the clinic who took one look at David carrying Daniel with his bloody feet and took charge, opening doors and escorting us past triage and reception, straight to the exam room. By the time I walked up to the reception desk to let them know Daniel was there and give them our names and address, he had been seen by the doctor, had his wound cleaned, and was waiting for stitches. While they were very careful to use sterile instruments and keep the wound clean, there were definite points of observation that reminded us we weren’t in the U.S.

• The language barrier––they kept asking us questions in Lingala, then switching to French, and in our stress we had some difficulty thinking in French.

• The insects on the walls.

• The stack of grotesquely filthy leg and arm braces in the corner, presumably waiting to be reused.

• No bright red bio-hazard box––the needles they used to give Lidocaine to Daniel were new and sterile, but once used they just went into the garbage bag with all the other bloody gauze and trash.

• The mercurochrome––they used lots of it on all of Daniel’s smaller cuts, even on his old bug bites. He has big pink spots all over his legs, front and back. They were so generous with it I started to wonder if we were getting charged by the ounce. Though I remember mercurachrome from my childhood, I’m pretty sure it is not used in the U.S. anymore because it actually contains mercury. Nice.

• I had 8 stitches in each incision when I had my foot surgery. Daniel’s wound was about the same width, possibly wider, and he got four. We got some steri-strips from a friend to “close the gaps.”

• No follow-up instructions regarding things like when he can bathe, how long to leave the stitches in, etc. We know we have to keep it clean and dry. We have plenty of missionary friends here who are in the medical field so we’ll have to rely on them for help and guidance.

While God was showing Himself to us––getting us through traffic, getting rapid treatment for Daniel, keeping him from losing too much blood, keeping him amazingly calm––He also showed Himself to Emily that night. As we were leaving the house for the clinic, I asked Emily to get on the internet and tell our friends to pray because Daniel was bleeding a lot and I knew traffic would be bad and I didn’t know what type of care we would get at the clinic. As soon as they heard, a couple on our team, the Freys, dropped everything and came to be with Emily. Instead of finding an anxious daughter when we arrived home, we found Emily, Jocelyn, and Nick watching a movie together. The glass, soda and blood were all cleaned up. They had brought their supper with them and fed Emily and even had a cupcake waiting for Daniel. I am so grateful that in this challenging place God has given us friends whose value can’t be measured. We had other friends who were praying for us, helping us with medical advice, giving us antibiotics from their own supplies because the pharmacies were closed, even offering to come get us and take us to the clinic.

As we were preparing to leave the clinic, Daniel said, “Well, now I can mark that off my bucket list.” We asked him if he seriously had getting hurt and receiving medical treatment in a third world clinic on his bucket list and he said, “Yes, I did.” What kind of ten-year-old has a bucket list? And what kind of ten-year-old has THAT on his list? When I asked Daniel’s big brother those questions his reply was “a cool one!” I tend to agree with both Josh and with another friend who said we need to talk to Daniel about working on a safer bucket list.

As first world citizens, we have had the luxury of growing up in a culture that teaches the importance of washing hands, brushing teeth, and food safety. We have always had easy access to soap, clean water, toothpaste and other hygiene items. We know the hazards of neglecting to take care of our bodies. As people here become better educated about the importance of good hygiene and we help them in Christ’s name to gain the means to practice it, it is our prayer that they will come to know Him and learn about “spiritual hygiene” as well.

We know we must guard what we put into our bodies and consciously and regularly maintain them because we want them to be healthy, look and smell nice, and last for a long time to come. In that same way, we need to guard what we allow to creep into our thought life and regularly spend time studying God’s Word and praying in order to keep our spiritual life healthy and fruitful.

Bacteria and viruses are so small we cannot see them with unaided eyes, yet they can be deadly. Temptations can get past our spiritual eyes and infect our lives just as easily if we are not diligent to stay healthy. One I have struggled with is the snare of becoming so busy that I am too tired and distracted to take care of myself. I need my teammates to encourage me and hold me accountable, even to help me learn to say “no” sometimes. You might say it’s sort of like getting a checkup. Because, let’s face it, we can all use a little help when it comes to staying fit––spiritually and physically––in this messy world.

“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” ––Heb. 10:24-25

Esther Writebol (center) with Nancy Burton visiting Papa Joseph. Photo by Jennifer Abbott

Sometimes Papa Joseph makes mistakes adding prices or reading his own handwriting (or mine) because he is not highly literate. He doesn’t get every order perfect, but he always gives me his best service. I could buy my produce from other vendors who may have better math and reading skills or nicer vegetables. I prefer Papa Joseph because he is honest and his heart has good intentions. Honesty goes a long way when choosing an under-the-tree-vendor in the Congo.

When I think of things that have changed my life, I think about accepting Christ, meeting my spouse, losing a loved one, having babies, near misses; but not stoves. Upon reflection, though, I have other memories of which I can say “because of that, either I am different or my life is different.” Memories of time spent with friends, my first dog, a class taken, a decision made, even a conversation.

Nancy Burton holding a young boy on a recent visit to the Kimbondo Hospital/Orphanage, Congo.

Often here, we don’t have electricity or city water––for hours or days at a time. Even with a generator, everyday activities like cooking and laundry can be challenging. Eventually, we took my friend’s advice and purchased a two-burner gas stove so we could cook without electricity. We discovered that she was correct. It’s hard to explain to others how significant that stove is to us now. A gas stove may not have made my original list of life-altering items, but sometimes our “lists” are composed of big things when little things can also matter a lot.

When I walk through the neighborhood to buy vegetables and talk with people, when I visit the orphanage and hold babies or chat with the older girls, when I buy Kleenex from a street kid or meet a need that someone has, it matters. Can a stove change a life? Absolutely! So can a smile, a kind word, a lift home, a loaf of bread, or a prayer spoken. It is possible that you can change someone’s life today with just a small act of kindness. You never know . . . it might be just what they need.