Will you come and follow me..

I have this songtext hanging beside my bed, torn from an order of service from the Scot International Church Rotterdam. It is a great reminder for me why on earth I am half way across (or down) the world.

Ben

Will you come and follow me John Bell

Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?
Will you go where you don't know and never be the same?
Will you let My love be shown, will you let My name be known?
Will you let My life be grown in you and you in Me?

Will you care for cruel and kind and never be the same?
Will you risk the hostile stare, should your life attract or scare?
Will you let Me answer prayer in you and you in Me?

Will you let the blinded see if I but call your name?
Will you set the prisoners free and never be the same?
Will you kiss the leper clean, and do such as this unseen?
And admit to what I mean in you and you in Me?

Will you love the 'you' you hide if I but call your name?
Will you quell the fear inside and never be the same?
Will you use the faith you found to reshape the world around?
Through My sight and touch and sound in you and you in Me?

Lord, Your summons echoes true when You but call my name.
Let me turn and follow You and never be the same.
In your company I'll go where Your love and footsteps show.
Thus I'll move and live and grow in You and You in me.

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling down the river..

Just a little comical interlude.. I do love it here but the contrast is always fun :)

You know your living on the Africa Mercy when:

- Your messages get blue tacked to your door
- Your house moves a couple hundred meters and back again in a weekend
- When you have the same curfew time you had in high school
- You wake up thinking your alarms going off, only to discover it was 3 cabins down.
- You talk about ‘amounts of cabins down’
- You have to choose between: breakfast and lunch or sleep in at weekends
- 2 minutes is considered a normal shower time
- You finish the teaching day with: “see you at dinner”
- You share your living room with 400 people- You are privileged because you are a driver.

- Flashing your knees is exciting
- You don’t answer to Mum or Dad but to the captain and the security officer...
- Your commute lasts less than 30 seconds
- The toilet flushing is a luxury
- The comment ‘hit the deck’ can actually be taken literally...
- You discover The English language is not universal as you thought
- Your phone number consists out of 4 digits
- You meet someone for the first time and start with asking: “how long have you commited for?”
- You live with a chaplain

- Your don’t have a kitchen but a galley
- You can hold a full school assembly in a single classroom

- milk is spelt with a CH

Wonderfully unique..

Patient Story

This is a patient story that was publshed by our communications office. Hopefully gives an idea of the work that is happing here.

Ben

Maomai Dangbenon: Salvation Has Come

Maomai Dangbenon: Salvation Has Come

It was the middle of the night, and Perlagie couldn’t sleep. The image of Maomai, her three-month-old baby girl, flashed through her mind every time she closed her eyes. A huge tumor the size of the baby’s head was jutting out of Maomai’s neck. Perlagie looked over at her daughter, peacefully sleeping in her hospital bed, and began to cry.

For over a week, Perlagie had stayed in the hospital, waiting and praying for a doctor to help Maomai – but no one came. In the morning, they were being sent home. Perlagie didn’t know what to do.

When Perlagie finally fell asleep she had a dream.

“In that dream, I saw a person, who told me I should be quiet and pray – that salvation shall come.”

The next morning, Perlagie felt confident and peaceful. She didn’t know where help would come from, but she knew God was going to take care of her baby.

***

Maomai was born with a teratoma, which means monstrous tumor. It started out as a small, golf-ball sized lump on her neck, but within three months, the tumor had grown to the size of her head.

Everyone in Perlagie’s village was afraid of Maomai. The grotesque tumor was difficult to look at, and the villagers thought they could be contaminated by it. No one would touch or play with the small baby.

“One time I was in the bathroom, and the baby was crying. People were around the baby, but they would not touch her because of the tumor. They left her crying, alone. Even the members of my family,” said Perlagie.

Perlagie was alone. Maomai was a precious, beautiful baby girl, and she could see that, but others simply couldn’t see past the monstrous tumor. In a country where perceived physical differences mark people as outcasts, Maomai was treated like a monster instead of a baby girl.

“I was very, very, sad. I was not able to sleep,” said Perlagie. “Every day, I was crying. Also, I was not eating. I had no appetite because of the condition of my baby.”

Perlagie and her husband wanted to get Maomia help. They took her to a local hospital, but there was no surgeon to perform her surgery. Perlagie didn’t become anxious or fearful. She confidently left the hospital, trusting God to bring healing and deliverance from the tumor.



When Perlagie returned to her village, her sister-in-law told her about the Africa Mercy, a hospital ship filled with doctors and nurses, which had come to Cotonou. She had just returned from the ship after being treated for an eye problem and thought they could help Maomai.

Perlagie brought her daughter to the Africa Mercy and was screened by the medical team. It was obvious that she needed immediate surgery. But the tumor had made it difficult for her to feed, and Maomai was very underweight – too underweight for surgery. The Mercy Ships medical team placed her on a feeding program and scheduled her for surgery in one month. Mercy was on its way. The salvation Perlagie had dreamed of was becoming a reality.

A month passed, and it was time for Maomai’s surgery. The morning of surgery, Peralgie worried it would not be successful.

“I started crying. Some nurses and translators told me the operation was possible with God. The doctor will be successful with surgery, the tumor will be removed, and the baby will be healed. They gave me that hope,” said Perlagie.

After six hours of surgery, Maomai’s tumor was removed. It weighed 375 grams, 15% of her body weight. The monstrous tumor was gone, and the beautiful baby girl remained.

Maomai spent over a month recovering in the hospital. Still struggling to maintain her weight, she had to be fed through a surgically placed feeding tube.

The nursing staff encouraged Perlagie to use the feeding tube. At first, she was hesitant. Perlagie distanced herself from Maomai. But as she grew more comfortable in the hospital, things changed. The nursing staff taught Perlagie how to use the feeding tube. As she took ownership of Maomai’s care, their relationship thrived.

“Initially, we were worried about her,” said pediatric nurse Ali Chandra. “But now she’s been here for over a month, and she’s blossomed. Perlagie has completely bonded with Maomai in the time they’ve been here. And it happened as we started teaching her [to use the feeding tube]. She’s doing really well,” says Chandra.

Maomai has continued to grow stronger since her surgery. Not only has she gained weight, she’s gained vibrancy.

“Maomai used to be this kind of listless baby, and now she’s bright. She’s doing more age-appropriate things than before,” says Chandra.

Psalm 13:5 says, “I have trusted in Your mercy; My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation” (NKJV).

Perlagie knows this to be true. She trusted God to take care of her baby, and He brought her salvation. Perlagie is rejoicing in His mercy.

“I thank God, and I thank each of you, for all you have done for me. God is healing and still working. I have seen my salvation in this child,” she concluded.

Written by Megan Petock
Edited by IOC Editing Team
Photography by Debra Bell and Megan Petock

Row, row, row your boat..

It’s been a little bit of a quiet period since my last post. On Sunday I visited Ganvie, a ‘stilt village’ built on the large lake in Benin. Really cool place by the way! The local town had grown into the lake and a whole community lives on the water! No footpaths, just boats. Suddenly living at a marina isnt so posh :P

To get there we had to take a small boat about 45min up the river. This is the first time it truly hit me the conditions that some people live in here, but also a realization I had never had before; I’ll explain. The riverbanks in Cotonou are where all the rubbish, waste etc collects; also it is where the poorest of the city live.. Passing in the boat the poverty hit my like a heavyweight champs right hook. Literally there are people living in lean too shanties on top of rubbish tips adjacent to the river, that by the way is also the largest open sewer you can imagine. Seeing this I realize why we are here, if in some small w

ay we can contribute to the bettering of the quality of life of these people then every minute spent here will have been worthwhile.

Watching the people as we passed I also came to a realization that was maybe personally more shocking to me: the quality of living is far less than we are used to, but the quality of life is not! The people LIVE LIFE here. There is no complaining about the squalor, there is no down heartedness about the lack of facilities. Seeing the people going round their daily life with the energy they do put me to shame. Too often do I catch myself judging the people’s lives here by the place they live, how they live and what facilities they have at their disposal when they have a appreciation of life that is rarely seen. Yet I find myself complaining when the airco stops for 5min on the ship or when there is only decaf coffee left in the morning in the dining hall.. suddenly sounds so trivial.
Sorry if this sounds confusing but it is a hard feeling to describe.

On Sunday we had an international praise evening with different nations showing how they praise the Lord. ‘Joyful singers’ you have set me in good stead! The best quote of the evening was from a Liberian lady who started their section with the statement: ‘’Stand up! Praise the Lord! Shake your body to the glory of the Lord!’’, never was there a truer statement. I love the energy and the totalness of the way the (west) Africans praise. And why just use our voices when we have our whole bodies at our disposal (even when we lack rhythm)!!

God bless,
Ben