He Sets the Solitary in Families

It's difficult to think that most of them no longer have parents or families. When the wheels of the vehicle first bumped down the steep, broken red-rock drive into “Baby Watoto” of Kampala, I caught the image of a baby being bounced into the air and back down again from a volunteer. On closer look, the beautiful boy had dark brown eyes and a huge dimpled smile; he giggled as a volunteer held him out to us. Every touch, every smile, every interaction is all a crucial part of their development - something they wouldn't have gotten if they had been left in the dark places they were found.

In Baby Watoto in Kampala, there are about 50 babies all divided in five groups. The smallest are in the newborn/preterm room with incubators. Most of them have been weaned off recently, so the medical needs are fewer, as the babies are healthier. The next room hold the “Monkeys”. These little babes are in their first few months, and are swaddled tight for their naps. Following, the “giraffes” are for those who are still malnourished and need extra attention. There are none at the moment.

The building has a large courtyard in the middle with bright blue walls and large windows in the top, to let the light in. On the opposite sides, the elephants and hippos stay. The hippos are the eldest at the orphanage (6-8 months), and once they are developing well, they are transferred to the Baby Home in Suubi, Uganda, where they have over 100 babies who can be up to two years old.

At the Baby Home, the children are raised in families of four with a nanny (who is a trained nurse), acting as their own mother. They found that having a sense of their own family, was also an important part in identity and brain development. The nanny follows them up until their departure into the Watoto village, where they are then placed together in larger families. I can't help but remember the God I serve - “God setteth the solitary in families: He bringeth out those which are bound in chains.” Psalm 68:6. Each one of these babies are precious in his sight. He knows why Aggy has the deep scare on her face; He was there when one of them was found in a dog house and He held the baby when her mother died while delivering her into the world. If God sees the sparrow that falls, how much more does he love each one of these children...

African Time

African Time. It's quite unpredictable...or does it exit.

I woke up to see our plane crossing over the Nile. A health ministry form was placed in front of me, and I checked off the necessary boxes to ensure I wasn't infected with Ebola.

Fever? No. Vomiting? No. Hemorrhage? No.

“Open your hands!”

An official came by and squirted a load of sanitizer on my palms. I hope my skin survived. Next, the passengers stood in line, and were each verified for fever. I stepped up to the counter where a thermometer was placed near my temple. All clear.

Health Ministry Form Check

No questions asked at the border, and I was ushered through to baggage claim. They rolled around – all three 50 lb bags – no problem. By the time I'd stacked them with my own carry-on, I was quite the sight...or had I disappeared from view completely.

Now to meet up with the appropriate person. This was when I realized I could run into problems. My cellphone had become no longer, somewhere between being in my car, and security at the Montreal airport. Thus, I had no contact numbers. I prayed.

Wheeling to the front of Entebbe, I moved towards two big automatic doors, which opened straight away. Among a sea of 60 or so faces, a handful of them held up homemade signs. None with my name on them. I held back inside for a bit, before finally thinking I might need to be more out in the open for my driver from “Watoto” to see me, and therefore, stepped outside into the night.

“Taxi? Taxi Taxi?” I was greeted by at least four men for a ride.

I waited off to the side, facing the crowd, hoping to catch sight of my name on a paper somewhere. Thirty minutes later, as the crowd began to wane and passengers left for their destination, I thought I go back inside the airport to connect to wi-fi and attempt to find contacts. But, no, I wasn't allowed back inside once I'd gone outside the airport - said an official. I had to walk around the corner, come back in a special entrance and be scanned thoroughly alongside my bags.

An eager taxi driver was insistent on helping me at this point – after all, the Muzungu's ride hadn't come in 35 minutes. I kept a close hand on my luggage and filtered back inside. Just as I was plugging in my dying laptop, I glanced towards the remaining crowd. A new sign was being waved among the old.

“Wat...”

“Watoto?” I mouthed the words I thought might be on the sign, to the blond girl standing outside the door and holding the paper

She nodded vigorously and I breathed a sigh of relief and prayer of thanks, while moving back towards the door. Just then, I heard my name “Maranatha?! Are you Maranatha?” A man was coming towards me.

“I'm sorry! Have you been waiting long? We figured it would take a while to get your bags, so we've just been in the parking lot!”

My co-ordinator had told me that time was less of a priority here – more of a suggestion in some cases. I had taken this to mind when waiting. However, I was just grateful they were here.

The blonde girl was Lauren, from Australia. She'd been working at the Baby Home for a month now, and would be there another. Another girl joined us from Calgary – that seemed fairly close to home, and we moved out of the parking lot, driving in the left lane and maneuvered (for lack of better words) towards our guesthouse.

It was now midnight, but the town was hopping. People were everywhere. Homemade food stands were fizzling meats and breads at the side of the road, while locals sat around eating, talking and laughing. Two women were carrying baskets on their heads in the street, while a few boys ran after eachother. When does the city sleep?

We saw glimpses of Lake Victoria, the second largest freshwater in the world, and before long, were at the guesthouse (hotel) where we would be staying. The van was inspected with a metal detector around all four corners, before we were ushered inside the gate, outside the van and through another metal detector before entering the hotel. After the incident at the mall in Kenya, security has heightened quite a bit – the driver, Fred, explained.

In a fog of sleep and wake, I met three more of the volunteers – Lauren, Naomi and Julie. Having not seen American chocolate in some time, they Hungry-Hippod a bag of Caramilks before we headed to bed. I tossed and turned, awake from sheer heat, but mainly the noise of continual talking directly outside our window, banging of doors in the hall, and music coming from the other rooms. I had been informed, Fred would be getting us at 11am for orientation, so I happily predicted this to be 1pm. There was a knock on the door at 10am.

“Orientation is at noon! We need to get going!”

I hopped out of bed and scurried to get ready, for an orientation that took place at three that afternoon.

Africa, I don't understand your time.

Airplanes and Food Poisoning

I had almost drifted to sleep when I heard across the loudspeaker, “We're sorry to bother you. There's a medical emergency on the flight. We are asking any doctors or nurses to come to the back of the plane.” I hadn't expected to go into training so soon.

I followed an ENT doctor down the narrow isle of the flight, where we stopped by an elderly man and his wife. He was perfusly sweating and had vomit down the front of his white collard shirt, yet his face was surprisingly calm. His wife explained - this was the second time he had vomited  and he didn't usually have sickness on flights. He had been feeling nauseas for a while.

On assessment, the man was oriented to name, place and person, and his pulse and respirations were in regular rate and rythmn. He had no allergies and not much of a past medical history. He was currently on no medications, was no longer feeling nauseas, and he had no dizziness or headache. His pupillary reactions were equal and his when tested, his sensory motor was in place.

“What and when did you last eat?”

“We had fish two hours ago”

“Fish?” The only meals that had been served on the flight were chicken and pasta. The doctor and I looked at eachother, confused, and turned back to him.

“Fish? On this flight?” At that point, the flight attendant spoke up and said yes, they had received fish upon special request.

“I had it too.” His wife chimed in. “I'm feeling a little queezy myself.”

I had an immediate rendez-vous of an old film called “Airplanes”. I didn't think it was a real-life story.

Thankfully, the wife's feelings of sickness never progressed and the elderly gentlemen was feeling better by the time we disembarked in Amsterdam. Upon boarding my next flight to Entebbe, I'd been bumped to a comfort class, with more leg room than I could use.

“Are you Maranatha - the one who helped the elderly gentlemen on our last flight?”. (We'd done nothing but ask a few questions and it was more the ENT than myself).

“Yes...a little”.

“And here is why I have moved you up! Enjoy!” The flight worker smiled and moved on down the aisle.

I was really grateful for the seat – and the potential of extra sleep. With Entebbe eight hours away, I dozed off.

So much leg room! :)

37B

I was in ninth grade when I first felt the tug. I was sitting in a library presentation with the entire English class. The video played, yet the pictures lay still in my mind – hurting children, sick children; but more so, children who were alone, orphaned or abandoned by parents with HIV/AIDS. The small women up front presenting the film on orphans in Africa was elderly, with such kind yet worn eyes, etched with years of experience. A nurse. She had gone with something to give, and afterwards  I asked her a question, confirming something about her that I had already decided.

“You gave them hope too?”

In the video, her life had already portrayed the service of a woman behind the scenes of God's work. Understanding the 15 year old stranger, she smiled and nodded. Just another worker in the field of His harvest.

I wanted to bring healing.

Even more...I wanted to bring hope...

That was 7 years ago.

I've heard that God can put desires in our hearts, and therefore it's important to search those out in His will– perhaps those desires are meant to point towards a greater purpose in our lives. I remember asking my mom “Why do all girls become nurses?!” (I probably wanted to be something different). It wasn't until I saw the need across the globe, and realized how much I'd been given (not by anything I did or deserved, but simply because of where and how God had placed me in this life) that God also planted in me a hurt for those who hurt, and a desire to offer help and hope. “For everyone, to whom much is given, from him much will be required.” Luke 12:48. My country, my home, my family, my friends, my life...I'd been given much - I had that to give.

Two more years to graduation. Four years in college. A year of experience in the field. Tropical Nursing school in Liverpool. It seems like a long time since the day in the library...yet it all came more quickly than I could have imagined.

I have researched the organization, seen the pictures, talked to the volunteers, grasped hold an understanding for their vision; and now I embark on a journey for the following two months where I seek to simply play a role in the body of Christ with "Watoto". The neonatal intensive care unit in Kampala, Uganda will train me to care for the sick and premature infants - orphaned or found abandoned in isolated locations around and within the city parameters.

No matter how much you envision something, you can't begin to fathom the realities of a place you've never been to, touched or experienced. Excited? Yes. Fearful? Perhaps a small bit. Yet God has used so many people in my path, so many experiences in my life, and so many intercessions on my behalf for me to be in this place, seat 37B towards my destination. I do not deserve to be here. I could not have gotten here on my own. From the place where my heart was tugged seven years ago, until Oct. 29, 2014, He has proved faithful, loving and only good. I can trust Him with what is to come.

A huge thank you to those who donated: I received over 350  sleepers and outfits for Babies,
blankets, diapers, Advil, Tylenol, Baby formula, creams, pacifiers, bibs and oral rehydration packets!