that Love

It's been silent around here, I know. For probably the first time, I make no apologies. Truth be told, there's not much to say. The wards are quiet, the beds folded and stacked, strapped to metal bolts screwed into the floor. Every surface has been washed down twice. Every surface, including ceilings. (I'm six feet tall; I'll give you three guesses on who got to work on that little project.) We sit around on rogue mattresses that escaped the piles and we talk about all that's happened this outreach. We scrub until our knuckles bleed. We laugh together, and we pray together, and this is how we end the year.

I was walking down the hallway with one of the nurses the other day who said it felt like the end of school. The time where your teachers are just giving you busy work to fill the hours until that final bell rings and you're free for two glorious months of summer. We hand out jobs like candy; empty that cabinet, scan those files, scour that floor. And all we're really doing is waiting for the time the Captain will come on the loudspeakers and let us know that the Pilot is on board. That we're throwing off the lines and setting sail.

That time is coming soon, but until then, we have this time stop and reflect. After a hectic ten months where we practically doubled the number of surgeries from last year, we've finally got time to catch our collective breath. And that's exactly what we've been doing. The nurses spent the day off ship at the pool. We called it Team Building, but as far as I can tell, this is one team that's already standing on a solid foundation.

So when I sit here in my cabin, the lights finally on again after yet another day of blackout while the technical crew (HoJ included) worked feverishly to ready the ship for sailing, all I can see is that foundation, that crazy call that made each of us leave everything to come here. A few of the nurses noticed my tattoo today, and when I quoted the verse it comes from, I knew from their faces that the same Love drew them here, too.

The Love that has us dancing on the wards when ladies go home dry. The Love that sees us through the dark days when babies go back to Jesus. The Love that opens pockets and hearts to give money so a mama with a broken baby can buy a new cow. The Love that lets nurses from across the world work together without strife. The Love that causes an Aunty to care for an orphaned baby with no thought to her own wants. The Love that has us on our knees, scrubbing until our backs ache, laughing the whole time. The Love that brought each patient to us, and the Love that saw them home again.

That's the Love that will fill me again each time I pour myself out.

If your pour out your soul on behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness and your night will be like noonday. (Isaiah 58:10)