The Wind…  Catrina (photos) is a beautiful, 23-year-old young woman who arrived to Cavango, like so many, on the back of a motorbike.  She was rail thin and couldn’t breathe and was carried into our ED by her husband.  He related that she had been like this at home for over a month.  I don’t know what compelled her family to (finally) bring her to Cavango.  She hadn’t eaten for over a week and was severely dehydrated.  She was near death and we suspected severe TB with secondary bacterial pneumonia and began aggressive treatment for both, to no avail.  She couldn’t speak; only grunting her answers to our questions.  There was no life in her eyes.  Her brother said she’d had back pain and we found a protruding fracture in her thoracic vertebrae (upper back), confirming the likelihood of disseminated TB. 

For over a week, Catrina remained the same, barely conscious and breathing at three times the normal rate – like she had just run up a long hill.  She couldn’t eat and we hydrated her intravenously.  She was on high-concentration oxygen and her levels were still below 60% (normal > 93%).  But she remained alive and I had no idea how.  A chest X-ray revealed both lungs absolutely full of TB.  She had no hope.  But every morning on my arrival, Catrina was still occupying the corner bed in our ICU, huffing and puffing and accepting a sucker.  She remained this way for two weeks (!) before we saw some progress.  That was a month ago.  Catrina gradually, ever so slowly, began to improve.  Every day I was amazed and grateful.  A couple weeks ago, she smiled at my arrival, a first.  Today, I saw Catrina without oxygen walking outside with a walker.  She is pain-free, smiling, eating and gaining weight.  Catrina will survive and not many do in Cavango who arrive as she did.  The Wind…

Little one-year-old Maria (photo) arrived severely short of breath, not nursing and arousable only to severe pain.  She had been sick for a week and her parents only brought her to Cavango when she became comatose.  Sometimes a coma saves lives in this region because it is one of the few things that motivates a family to act.  We couldn’t get Maria’s breathing rate to slow over a couple days of fighting severe pneumonia so we did an ultrasound, which revealed one chest cavity full of fluid.  We put in a chest tube and drained over a cupful of thick pus from Maria’s little chest.  Maria immediately improved and breathed more slowly/easily.   We pulled the tube a couple days later when there was no further drainage.  Maria continued to improve but constant fevers prevented her from returning home (thankfully).  Then, over about a week, Maria’s respiratory rate quickened again and a repeat ultrasound revealed that the pus had reaccumulated.  Maria (and her weeping mother) endured another chest tube and she improved again and, now, after about another week, she will return home well.  We put in many chest tubes in Cavango but not often twice in the same person/baby during the same illness.  Maria is one of so many who would have died without so many of you making this work possible.

I haven’t had a full night’s sleep for a while.  A couple nights ago I was awakened at 11p to see a markedly dehydrated baby with the these-days-common “trifecta” of measles, pneumonia and malaria.  IV access wasn’t possible and little Pedro (photo) endured our painful placement of an intra-osseous line in his tibia, through which we administered medications and hydrated him through the night. He responded well, began to nurse again, improved over several days, and will go home soon.  

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Riches…  Just after I got back to sleep the same night, I was awakened by a motorbike outside of my window.  Our guard had driven over to tell me that the power in our ICU and ED (including the internet router – which is used to contact me at home) had died.  I remembered that we had 6-7 critical patients who were oxygen-dependent and hurried into the hospital where, for over two hours, we searched for a cause and found nothing.  Our team scurried to find small generators and extension cords which would allow us to use the side of the building that still had power.  So much effort, by so many, preserved the lives of especially those being kept alive by our oxygen concentrators. 

I called a staff meeting the following morning to commend their tireless effort, which had continued throughout the night, to keep a few people alive.  It was beautiful.  I messaged Messele, our do-it-all handyman/electrician, in Huambo, 3-4 hours away, and asked if he had any ideas.  He said he would need to evaluate everything and he immediately hit the road, hiring several different taxis (car and motorbike) to arrive by noon.  He found the problem in less than a minute (!), a loose wire at the main box, and power was restored.  Another crazy beautiful effort for the benefit of a few.  Our challenging life in Cavango is full of riches, packaged in those who come alongside us, especially when things get difficult.  You are among them…

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Caring…  I ended rounds on our critical patients this morning in my usual manner, approaching our isolated area designated for kids with measles, and it was empty!   We may be nearing the end of our exhausting measles epidemic.  What a horrific disease.  We have prayed with/for and worked day and night to save so many who arrive so late and near death.  And we have also cared for, fought for, and prayed with, dozens of kids and their parents as their children died.  At a recent staff meeting I reminded our devoted and ever-maturing team that we are called to care and to give all we can give whether the outcome is life or death.  We are not called to save but to care… to embrace each and every child, mother and father, to pray with them, to fight with/for them and to be present with them in their anxiety, sadness and grief…  We are not experts and we have not all the answers or solutions, but we are fellow travelers with some experience who can “come alongside” each one who crosses our path in Cavango. 

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Battlefield…  It’s been a tough season and I often feel like a wanderer passing through a battlefield littered with the wounded and the dead.  I’ve described Cavango as an “awful, beautiful place”.  We embrace, sit with and pray with all.  We bandage the broken, cleanse wounds, distribute food, medicine and blankets, provide temporary “housing,” and we embrace, sit with, and pray with/for all of the loved ones weeping over the bodies of the fallen…

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Why/What…  I recently shared with our team that analyzing our motives and “why” we do what we do can be healthy, but seeking to understand “why” the world, and our circumstances, are as they are, can be quite a distraction.  This pursuit of the humanly impossible diverts many from prioritizing what they can do to impact the world around them.  I have personally found it healthy to dismiss understanding “why” and rather pursue “what” I can do, trusting my Father with the “why”. 

Why? I can’t come anywhere close to understanding why, in 2025, there is a place like Cavango and so many others similar in the world where most people live in a constant state of hunger and illness, and have no healthcare access while, in other parts of the world, there are Kroger, Walmart, Amazon and Urgent Cares accessible to all.  In Cavango, we witness and share in undeserved, young death more than soldiers who have endured the tragedies of war.  We also have the privilege of witnessing and contributing to so many recoveries.  There are always both in Cavango and I often must consciously dismiss the tempting distraction of asking “why” as I encounter another tragic young death or unexpected recovery…

What? Our Father doesn’t desire to “use” us to do His work as much as He invites us to participate with Him in His never-ending work of redemption in this fallen world; to be His hands, mouth, and feet as He seeks to repair ruptures and to care for each and every wounded person.  This, of course, would be everyone.  For example, every adult who has traversed childhood and adolescence has been wounded to varying degrees.  Who will you come across hurting today who might welcome your counsel/assistance?

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Misfits…  I recently had the most vivid dream as I found myself enter a large ornate hall which was hosting a unique, informal gathering.  As I entered, I noted that it was comfortably warm compared to the darkness and chill I had experienced outside.  I took in the scene and immediately noticed that every person present had radically apparent deformities and blemishes – missing limbs, scarred and deformed faces; no one seemed “whole” and all wore layered rags draped over emaciated and unkempt bodies.  As I began to wander through the hall, I was warmly embraced at every interaction, like I was encountering dear old friends.  Did I know them?  Did they know me?  I was clearly one of them and, while acutely aware of my own obvious deformities, I had an intimate sense of both vulnerability and “belonging”.  There were warm, appreciative embraces and sober conversations.  I overheard some as they shared, through tears and sad smiles, about their painful histories leading up to this night, many involving prodigal rebellion, rejection, betrayal, abandonment… 

We all were standing around a banquet table covered with simple, abundant food and drink.  There seemed to be palpable, pleasant anticipation about the soon-to-appear host of the gathering.  The place was filled with a sense of honest pain combined with warm acceptance and genuine appreciation of one another, along with a tangible gratitude for being invited to and, participating in, this special event.  It felt like I was home, among a family of sorts, kindred spirits sharing pain, loss… and gratitude… 

It was one of those few dreams that I remembered vividly after waking, prompting me to receive it as a personal communication from my Father and I proceeded to tell Him what an honor it is to be a part of His family and what a profound joy it is to know that I am His misfit, so cherished, with all of my weaknesses, blemishes and deformities…

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I have decided…  We were visited by a group of young men and women from a church in Lubango to encourage our region’s youth to follow Jesus.  One of them sat on our porch one afternoon and pulled out a guitar and sang the old camp fire song, loved by so many.  “I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back, no turning back.  Though no one join me, I will follow.  No turning back, no turning back.”  The history of its author is worth looking up…

So many memories came back to me of my early days of deciding to take seriously surrendering to Jesus and all that might be involved, with a dear group of friends when I was a grad student at University of Toledo.  I recalled memorizing and singing that song as a prayerful commitment to my King.  One of Jesus’ dear followers, John, wrote to early churches encouraging them to remember those early days of our relationship with Jesus and allow those memories to motivate us as we continue to live out, “Not my will, Father, but yours be done…”

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Vision…  Our recent team visit from the US, from the two churches Betsy and I have called home for over thirty years, brought lenses and frames in a kit designed to fit people near-sighted with the proper lenses through which they can gain the ability to see more clearly. A crazy simple and beautiful system, designed for low-resource populations.  One of our nurses was the first to be fit and marveled at the change in vision her new lenses gave her. She hadn’t realized she was living without visual clarity!

I heard myself encourage Elisa to continue to use her new lenses. I later thought how this was such a good analogy of how I see my life’s purpose. I find that I am constantly seeking to give others the ability to see life through lenses which give clarity as I have experienced the difference of living with and without the same. 

Without the lenses, my vision lacks clarity and depth, as I have difficulty focusing on anything/anyone other than myself.  Everything appears differently when I put them on.  Life around me doesn’t change with the lenses and is still beautiful and ugly, pleasant and painful, just and unjust…  I do see, however, my vision change in the “fog” of life as quite transforming and I, therefore, encourage others to see through the same lenses which have given me the clarity.  A needy beggar leading another beggar to food…  How could I claim to love them if I didn’t attempt to help them see more clearly and/or attempt to guide them to the food which has given me life?

We all have been honored by our Father/Creator with the privilege/freedom to choose which lenses through which we see/experience life… 

My lenses… I have chosen to practice conscious acknowledgement that my Creator/Father is pleased to be present with me and partnering with me to weave His purposes into my every moment, every circumstance, and every interaction.  I choose to express my gratitude to my Father frequently through the day and remain in constant conversation with Him.  I practice living in wonder and adoration of my awe-inspiring God re His creation all around me and in me, His preserved promises, precepts, perspectives, His revealed character in Jesus, His crazy-wise guidelines for living for His purposes (which seem to always involve “another”) and His faithful, undeserved affection for me via His many daily demonstrations of the same. 

Most of the people in the rest of the world, by their own admission, have chosen to view life through completely different lenses which largely focus on their own emotional pleasure and happiness and/or their own rational understanding, while ignoring and/or dismissing their Creator’s presence and purposes for their life.

I still remove my lenses at times which quickly reminds me of their benefits to my perspective/vision (especially regarding others) and my union with my Father in both pleasant and unpleasant situations. 

Those focused on their own happiness seem to often not understand me and consider my lenses “unattractive”.  My attempts to encourage them to “see” differently are often met with offense, ridicule or indifference.  I, and others who have chosen to view life through the same lenses, are often labeled as narrow, simple-minded, judgmental, delusional, bigoted, self-righteous….  I am sad for those who have chosen to live without the beautiful lenses my Father has given to me and offers freely to everyone…

We are in “foggy” rural Cavango to serve those about whom few care and, in so doing, to demonstrate and to teach that they can choose to “see,” via personally knowing Jesus, the Way, the Truth and the Life. 

We are so grateful for your sacrificial and generous partnership with us in this multiple-generation-impacting endeavor!