A Day in the Life: Nursing on the Africa Mercy

Every wonder what it’s like to work on the Maritime Vessel Africa Mercy (AFM)? The following is a description of the typical working day for a ward nurse here. No two days are the same, but this is fairly close to a normal one.

Our tiny sitting area in the back of our cabin

 0620 – I awake to the piercing sound of my alarm. Turning it off quickly, I slip out of the bunk space and into the back of our cabin where I have laid out my scrubs and can turn on a light without waking my three sleeping roommates. Then it’s off to breakfast, a long walk to the opposite side of the ship. Ok, ok its probably a 60 to 90 second walk, but the dining room is at the bow (front) and my room is nearly all the way aft (back). I get to the dining room just after the breakfast line opens at 0630 and take my food to one of the back windows. While I love living in a community, I don’t love the happy group of morning people at the front of the dining room this early. I need my coffee before I can even think about extroverting. I eat as I catch up on Facebook. My family and friends back home on the other side of the world have only just gone to bed a couple hours before.

The Ward on the day it opened. Mikwabo means Welcome all in Fon

0655 – I stop by my room to grab my stethoscope and head down one flight of stairs to A-ward. As I enter I am usually greeted first by our day crew. The day crew on the AFM consist of local people who do not live on the ship, but are hired by Mercy Ships to help in a variety of roles. We could not function without them, they work so hard and with excellence. Many of the work areas in the ship utilize day crew; in the hospital we have two different day crew positions, hospital chaplaincy and ward day crew. The most simple job description I could give for the ward day crew is that they are part translators and part nursing assistants, but that underestimates what they do. I could not do my job without the ward day crew. They are phenomenal! They help us understand our patients, not just by breaking down the language barrier. They are also great resources as cultural translators. We have learned so much from each other. They help with ward tasks ranging from cleaning, meal distribution, patient/visitor escorts, and so on. They keep clean supplies stocked on the ward. To be good stewards, we reuse anything that is washable. We even reuse the little disposable plastic medicine cups. One of the day crew responsibilities is to run the sterilizer to replace all the equipment we go through.

0700 – Night shift and day shift meet for huddle. Night shift briefly discusses any problems the team as a whole needs to know and then we pray for the day. Prayer time on the AFM is unlike any other. With so many people from all over the world we offer up our prayers in whatever language we are most comfortable with (English, Dutch, German, French, Fon, etc.). It’s a powerful testament of the body of Christ. We may be different, but we are one and share the same purpose.

Double checking pediatric doses for meds

Once we finish I get report form the night nurses on my patients. I have five patients today. The first are two women with goiters caused by an over active thyroid. The first is on her first day post op, having had her goiter and most of her thyroid removed the day before. The second is waiting for her surgery today. She is a mixture of excitement and nerves, but she is in good company, surrounded by woman who share a similar story. I also have two plastics patients: Baki, a 14 year old boy who injured three of his extremities due to an electrical burn several years ago. He walks with a limp and is missing his left arm, but Mercy Ships was able to release the burn contracture to his other hand. Jeanne is my other plastics patient. She is only slightly younger than myself, but has been living with a burn injury to her hand since she was five years old. My fifth patient is a little out of the ordinary. He’s one of the day crew who has been sick and needed IV antibiotics.

Administering meds through a feeding tube for a patient

0730 – I see each of my patients. “Bonjour! Ca va?” Or “Me fon gon gia” I say, depending on what language they speak. I check vital signs, have them rate their pain on a picture scale and start passing morning medications, mostly consisting of vitamins, while the day crew hands everyone hand sanitizer and begins passing out breakfast. Last week A-ward had a much larger pediatric population so I spent half of my time kneeling on the floor trying to reach my little patients who preferred to sleep under the beds on the mattress for their parents then they did in their hospital beds.

0800 – One of the hospital physicians comes in to check on my day crew patient. He has been fever free since last night and can get discharged!

0820 – I get my patient’s discharge paperwork completed as general surgery rounding begins which consist of the current surgeon, his resident helper, the A-ward nursing team leader and day crew to translate. They visit each patient at the bedside, evaluate their progress and discuss the plan of care. As they finish the first patient heads off to the OR, a women with probably the largest goiter I have personally seen preoperative.

Doctor Parker (far left) during D-ward daily rounds

0830 – Next is plastics rounding which is much more crowded. So many people are involved in these patients' care. Into the ward we crowd 2 surgeons, 3 physical therapist, the dressing’s team leader, the ward nurse team leader, a hospitalist and of course a day crew to translate.  

Patient getting a dressing change in the in-patient treatment room. 

0900 – One of the dressings nurses comes to take Baki and another patient back to the inpatient treatment room for their dressing changes. They also need one of the day crew to help translate, but this is easier said than done. Both patients speak Bariba, a northern dialect very few of our day crew understand. We do a little rearranging and soon Samuel is off to help translate as I sit down to do discharge teaching. Discharges normally take a long time because every word needs to be translated, but this time my patient spoke English and after ten minutes he was on his way out the door, antibiotics in hand.

Taking a moment to dance to the music

0930 – After discharging my patient, one of the fathers challenged me to play connect four; he had already beaten me three times when the hospital chaplaincy team filed in, saving me from a fourth loss I’m sure. When the chaplains enter all nonessential work stops. I had a difficult time with this the first time it interrupted discharge teaching I was completing. The culture of my task oriented mindset wanted to finish, but I’ve since seen that the relationship oriented culture of my patients creates an atmosphere where pausing a task to join in on what the community is doing is not only accepted, it’s expected. The chaplains lead a time of worship, scripture reading, prayer, song, and dance. Everyone who can is on their feet dancing, those who can’t dance clap to the rhythm and sing along. The mamas sometimes have what I can only describe as a dance off, taking turns praising God with their whole bodies.     

Chaplaincy leading a time of worship through song and dance 

Walking the long corridor
that makes up the hospital 

Eye patient just after surgery, before the patch is removed. 

0940 – I leave A-ward for a short coffee break. I walk through the rest of the hospital. Passing 

Eye patient as she sees for the first time in years. 

B-ward where all the plastics patients start off, then C-ward where our most stable longer stay patients end up when they are getting close to discharging. Next is the eye room full of outpatient cataracts patients who will arrive on the ship blind and leave with their sight restored. As I pass, a day crew comes out carrying a child in her arms. Even with his eyes covered in gauze he knows I’m there. He smiles and reaches out his arm so I shake his little hand. I tear up a little as they continue down the hall and imaging his face when he sees for the first time and the whole world is opened up to him.  

1000 – I’m back on the ward and it’s time to start passing nutritional supplements to our plastics patients who need extra nutrition and calories for their skin grafts to heal. I go in search of Baki who is no longer in the ward and find him down the hall with one of his new friends from B or C ward. Patients and parents come and go from the wards all day. Its like one big and loud family. When I get back to the ward I sit down at a small table with a group of boys to color and joke with each other (boys are the same everywhere when it comes to what they find hysterical) until the OR calls that they will soon arrive to pick up my preoperative patient for surgery.

Some of our goiter patients, mostly woman, but we do see a few on men also.

1145 – I let my patient know that the OR will be here soon and scrub her neck with an antibacterial soap. The OR nurse arrives with a translator and we go through the check list, and she reminds the patient what to expect and answers any questions. The OR nurse then asks the patient if she can pray for her before she goes into surgery. The patient smiles and nods so we lay hands on her shoulders and the OR nurse begins praying in Dutch.

Goiter patient at her out patients appointment

1200ish – I take a lunch break, meeting up with some of my non-work friends. The dining room is packed during lunch between crew and day crew so we take our food to the quieter café area to talk for the next half hour.

1300 – I get vitals on my first day post op patient, reassess her incision and empty her wound drains. She is healing very well and will likely have the drains removed tomorrow morning and then discharge after lunch. She will follow-up a few days later for a wound check with outpatients.

1330 – The first surgery of the day is back from PACU and wow does she look different without the large goiter hiding her neck. Except for a scar across her neck you would have never known it was there.

Goiter patient post surgery, day of discharge. 

 She is smiling ear to ear as we get her into bed and I check her vitals as her nurse gets report from the PACU nurse.

1400 the evening shift arrives. Our team leader Jane leads us in a devotion or plays a worship song before we again pray for our patients and each other. I hand over my patients to the oncoming nurse.

Watching a container ship come into port on deck-7

1430 I join the rest of the day shift in taking any patient who is able up to deck 7 where they can spend some time in the sun while the evening shift stays on the ward with those who can’t go yet. Up on deck 7 the older patients sit in chairs talking, playing games and watching ships come into the harbor as the little ones race around on tricycles.

Giving mom a break on deck-7

1525 – I help to lead the patients back down to the hospital, taking those on crutches down in our tiny elevator. While we were gone three new thyroid patients have arrived to be admitted before their surgeries tomorrow, and the day crew is currently orientating them to the ward. Once everyone is safely back in the ward I head up the stairs to my room. I close the door behind me, but I can still hear the faint sounds of the hospital below.

Deck-7 fun

Playing games in the cafe' 

1535 - Since I am off before most of the ship in the afternoon when I work days, I have a perfect opportunity for quiet time. I’m usually alone in my cabin for the next couple hours. At five I’ll go get dinner and then in the 

evenings I do a variety of things. Sunday Evenings we have Church and Thursday evenings we have a community meeting which ends with ice cream. Other evenings I have off are spent playing games, watching movies in one of my teacher friends’ classrooms, practicing with the acapella group I’m in, going on the occasional outing for pizza, or just hanging out in my cabin with my bunk mate, who is awesome by the way.  

There you have it a typical day on the Africa Mercy. I have good days and bad days. Some days are crazy while others can drag on, but it is a joy to be here. I am so blessed and I wouldn't trade my new job for anything.

More deck-7 fun

The last few plastics patients to discharge after our first stage of
plastics surgery getting a ride out of the port. 

Deck-7 fun with Ricardo and Joseph, nicknamed the twins because they
had the same surgery and were always found playing together.

My awesome bunk mate, Tiffany, trying out the new
backpack style vacuums to clean out our bunk space. 

Not all days are the same!!! on this particular day one of the patients kindly
offered to cut another patients hair which turned into cutting everyone's hair. 

Author's Note: While I am currently serving with Mercy Ships the ideas and opinions expressed here are my own. Mercy Ships has not reviewed nor do they endorse the content written within this blog. A big thank you to the photographers who shared the pictures this post contains.

Community

Because Cinnamon toast should always be eaten with friends 

Work on A ward is rough

           Of all the potential problems related to living on a ship, community living is probably the one aspect that worried me the most as I prepared to leave my independent, private life and move into a tight knit community where “my own space” is not a phrase often heard. Community living has had its challenges. Being sick 7 times since June (the toilet seems so far away when you live on the top bunk), spending 20 minutes looking for a private place to practice my part for my A Capella group and then finding out people still heard me anyway, finding out that just because we are mostly all Christians sometimes there will still be people who are harder to get along with and learning to be ok with that and love them anyway, navigating all the different cultures interwoven among the crew, these are all issues that I deal with, being a part of this crazy community I am starting to call home.

Yes, there are some challenges, but the rewards of living in community are so much greater than those challenges. It’s nice living in a community where saying “I’m struggling today” is ok, and all I have to do is walk out my door and I’ll run into someone who can be an encouragement, give me godly advice or just be able to relate because they feel the same way. Only in this community has my lunch ever been interrupted by a friend asking me to stop and pray for her because she was having a bad day, and no one at the table thought the request was weird or awkward. There is a strength that comes from living and working with others whose goals are the same as yours. We may have been brought to the ship by different means, we may have different ideas, we may have different levels of maturity, different talents and skills, but all of us are here because we felt a call and are acting on that call to serve the forgotten poor. I have never seen the Body of Christ so beautifully displayed until I arrived on the Africa Mercy.

On board the Africa Mercy there can be crew from anywhere between 30 to 40 different nations at a time. You would think that with so many different types of people from so many different cultures, coming from nearly every continent around the globe, the differences would prove too much, but the opposite is happening. Mercy Ships has been able to establish a new culture, a ship culture. We don’t give up our culture as we walk up the gangway, but we do learn to understand and even appreciate other cultures. “It’s not wrong it’s just different” is a phrase every Mercy Shipper can say in their sleep. We learn to distinguish preferences which may change due to our cultural worldviews verses principles which are vital to our Christian walk. Grace is given more easily than accusations, and asking questions to clarify a person’s intentions can almost always mend a perceived offence.

Nothing exaggerates this new community living more than the holiday season. On one hand, it’s hard to be in a new environment away from family and the traditions that accompany being at home. Nothing has made me more homesick than the thought of missing out on those special holiday moments. At the same time holidays on the ship are some of the best community moments I have shared. From the pot luck style Thanksgiving the Americans threw (crashed by a few Brits) to celebrating the Dutch tradition of Sinterklass with cookies left in our shoes and presents for the kids, the ship comes together during the holidays to share traditions with each other. It’s a beautiful time.

Sinterklaas arriving to the Africa Mercy. His sleigh doesn't work
               without snow so he was picked up from the airport and driven in

Sinterklaas with his many helpers

The Scandinavian Santa Lucia tradition 

Australian Carols by Candlelight 

Earlier this month I experience just how supportive the community on this ship can be. At 2 am on December 18th I was awoken with news that my paternal grandfather had very suddenly and unexpectantly passed away. Even at 2 in the morning it just so happened that one of my coworkers from A ward passed by as I sat on the stairs outside my room crying. She stopped to comfort me which woke my roommate who soon joined her to support me and pray for me. I don’t know what I would have done at that moment without them. In the days that followed I was surrounded by my ship family. I received many words of encouragement, hugs, prayers and people’s time. Between 3 of my friends I was never left alone on that first day following the news. When I returned to work the next day my team leader and coworkers prayed for me. One of the ship chaplains helped me find plane tickets home so I was able to fly home for the funeral. Their support gave me strength. During that time, while I was at my worse, I was able to trust that my God was still in control and that he would give me the strength I needed as I needed it because He was already doing just that via the strength, support and love that was being poured over me by my community.

God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you…. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.                                                     

1Cor 12:18b - 21 & 24b - 27

I am currently at home with my family. I will be returning to the ship just after the new year. While I have enjoyed being with my family, I am ready to get back to my work in Benin and the community that is waiting for me.  

My Grandfather doing his favorite thing: working in his garden. 

Family pic wearing just a few of my grandfather's many hats. He never left the house without one. 

Author's Note: While I am currently serving with Mercy Ships the ideas and opinions expressed here are my own. Mercy Ships has not reviewed nor do they endorse the content written within this blog.

A-Ward / General Screening.

A-Ward patients ready to be discharged

Yesterday I had the opportunity to assist with patient screening. If you have been following my blogs you may remember that the screening process can be a very emotional time. The ship can’t help every person. That can be discouraging, but today was very different than my last screening experience because today was general patient surgeon screening. After prescreening potential patients are given appointments by surgical specialty so they can be assessed by the surgeon and have any required testing. There are times when a patient is found not to be a surgical candidate during the second phase of screening, but the vast majority of these patients will receive surgery.

Yesterday I helped obtain health histories and draw labs for 50 such potential patients, and then I was able to write their admission dates on their patient ID cards and tell them “yes we can help you”. Over and over again yesterday I witnessed the same array of expressions wash over people’s faces: shock, relief and then hope. It was such a blessing to be a part of, but even more so because every one of these patients will be admitted to my home ward.  

Mercy Ships divides patients into 3 Wards. D-Ward, staffed by our ICU nurses, preforms mostly facial surgeries like jaw/facial tumors and cleft lip/pallets. Then there is B-ward that currently houses our orthopedic kids, but usually contains the plastic patients. A-ward (my home ward) is occupied by half stable B-ward patients who are many days post op and half general surgery. We do hernias, lumps and bumps, goiters, etc. We have even done a few tonsillectomies.

It’s not the most glamorous ward. The general patients don’t get as much media attention, after all who wants to hear about the man who’s painful hernia we repaired when I can show you a picture of a cutie in cast walking on straight legs for the first time. I don’t talk about the general surgery patients very much either because their stays are so short it’s harder to build relationships with them. I usually only get the chance to care for these individuals once or twice during their stays. While the other specialties require hospital stays lasting weeks most of our general patients stay only a few days. They don’t need much time to heal; many even get discharged the next day after surgery. These are mostly simple surgeries, but even a simple surgerie will change a life.

Today a woman is boarding the Africa Mercy with three other general patients. She will have surgery tomorrow to remove part of her overactive thyroid and the large goiter that has been plaguing her for years. She came to screening yesterday hidden behind a scarf, ashamed to show her disfigurement, something many in her culture view as a curse, something to fear. She will leave the ship in a few days free of this physical burden, and will hopefully leave with the knowledge that she is worthy of love. As the hospital chaplain told the patients during worship time today, “the doctors and nurses on the ship love you, but there is someone who loves you even more. Who is He?” The answer is Jesus. 

Not the same woman as above, but another goiter patient treated on the Africa Mercy a couple months ago. 

Benin Patient Number One: Valentine's Story

Valentine front and center; he along with the the other 2 in the center were our first 3 plastic patients.
From left to right: Prince (Romes' baby brother), Gladys, Valentine, Romes and Ali. 

Open hospital day one: As the first five patients walked into the ward I could tell that they shared many of my own feelings. We were all excited (nurses, day crew, patients and family), but at the same time we were quite nervous. Of those first patients, was a little eight year old boy named Valentine. He came with his father, Papa Valentine the rest of the ward called him. Of the two young boys admitted that day he was the more cautions. He smiled shyly as we welcomed him.

Valentine comes from a village outside Cotonou. His family is very poor, but that didn’t stop his father from making the journey to the ship in search of healing for his son. Not having the money to return home, father and son spent their nights in a local park as they waited for his appointed surgery day after screening. His journey to the ship started when playing with matches caused a house fire and burned him severely. Since then, this little one has faced many hurtles and concurred them, the first being that he survived the initial event despite not having access to the type of medical care he needed. His burns closed but he was left with many scars, the largest of which caused one of his thighs to be pulled up into his lower abdomen. Valentine was no longer able to stand up straight; he walked hunched over and with a limp. The first time I saw him during the admission process we had to get a stool for him to climb in and out of his bed as he was unable to lift his leg to climb in.

Valentine was our very first patient. He was number one on the surgery schedule that Monday morning, he even got the very first unit of blood donated by a fellow nurse and crew member. He had major surgery which took a long time to heal. He was the topic of many of our prayers that first week. Valentine had to lay flat for many days after surgery so he could heal. Papa Valentine stayed right by his side. It was a blessing to see such a loving father as he cared for his son and worried for him. Valentin was in pain. It was hard to see, even knowing that things would get better. The day Valentine was allowed out of bed for the first time was one of the happiest days on the ward. He stood with his little walker, playing a game with one of his new friends and fellow patients. What a glorious sight, but the best part about the scene was the smile that spread across his face.

Laying flat to heal after surgery. Finally a smile!

Papa Valentine & Valentine with his blood donor Liz. The crew members on the ship make up a literal walking blood bank. 

Working hard with Physical Therapy to relearn how to use his muscles. 

And Valentine has not stopped smiling since. For a long time he was the joy of the hospital. As other less invasive plastics patients came and went, Valentine remained, working hard to recover. Slowly he reached many milestones in the wards; Standing straight, walking, running, sitting, riding a tricycle, reaching and stretching high, and yes even climbing into his own bed by himself without the help of a stool. We were all excited but also sad to see Valentine discharge from the hospital because we miss his smiley face and sweet spirit. He is currently at the HOPE Center (Hospital Outpatients Extension) where he can live close by in a safe and clean environment as he continues his therapy and healing. 

Standing straight!

Not being able to bend didn't stop Valentine from having fun on deck 7 with the rest of us.

 

So happy to finally be allowed to sit again
              because it means he can ride the "moto!"

Soon Valentine will be leaving to return home to his family that he has been unable to see since his father brought him to the ship. I would love to be there when his mother sees him again for the first time, standing straight and tall once again. I get I little emotional just thinking about how that reunion will be. Papa Valentine says he is excited for Valentine’s future because now Valentine will be able to return to school. 

The first season for plastics is complete. The last plastic patients are discharging today. We’re moving from burns to bones as in its place we opened orthopedics last week. Currently, B-ward is filled with kids in cast, learning to stand on straight legs. It’s an exciting time!

Author's Note: While I am currently serving with Mercy Ships the ideas and opinions expressed here are my own. Mercy Ships has not reviewed nor do they endorse the content written within this blog. A big thank you to the photographers who shared the pictures this post contains. 

Changing the World One Person at a Time

My last entry focused on the screening process and shared about the reality of what a lack of healthcare and health professionals in the country of Benin has created, a country overrun with medical needs unheard of in the developed world. When I first came to this country I thought I had prepared myself for such needs; however, knowledge of a need and actually seeing it are very different. I was emotionally devastated by the needs here that were so much greater than the capacity we had to help. When confronted with reality, it is easy to become discouraged and think “Am I really helping? How is helping a few worth it when so many are beyond our capacity to help.” Well, let me tell you: it does make a difference. We may not be able to change the whole world, but for those individuals we are able to help, we are changing their whole world. Let me tell you about just a few of those individuals..

Please note that even though you may recognized the descriptions of patients later on via Mercy Ships or other media, I have removed names from my post to preserve patient privacy. 

          

  

             Little Bird: With both her arms splinted this tiny five year old girl resembles a bird at flight and her soft voice fills the ward with singing from time to time. This intelligent little one loves mimicking those around her and has picked up a few English worlds. Some of her favorite games are peek-a-poo, counting to five in English on our fingers, and singing head, shoulders, knees and toes.  Nurses aren’t supposed to have favorite patients, but I think this little one has a special place in many of our hearts. With her sweet spirit, tight hugs and playful nature, it’s hard not to fall head over heal in love with Little Bird. This little one is so full of joy, but her body bears the scars of a grim past. A pot of hot food and a horrible accident threatened to forever inhibit her flight. As her body attempted to heal itself with limited medical intervention her little arms became cemented to her body by scar tissue. She could not lift either of her arms at the shoulders. The scar tissue has now been cut away, and a split keeps her healing skin from forming the same restricting scars. When the splints come off this little one will begin the physical therapy she needs to regain the function of her arms and shoulders. She has her entire life ahead of her now and with her intelligence and joyful outlook on life, I expect this Little Bird to soar.

Photo Credit: Miguel Ottaviano

              

Thank you to Miguel Ottaviano, the Mercy Ships Photographer who shared this picture. Pictures are only taken when patients or parents have given written consent for pictures to be taken and shared.

               The serious one: While Little bird is easy to make smile, this little one makes the nurses work for her laugh. She also wears a splint as her arm, burned after an accident with boiling water, heals. This little five year old is feisty and strong and is protective of her new friend Little Bird. She usually has a serious expression on her face, but slowly we are finding out what makes her smile, even laugh, and when she does, it lights up the whole ward. She loves dancing, singing, stickers and playing with her new best friend. If one of our little girls is missing during the night, we can always find her in the other's bed fast asleep. This little one is a survivor. God has blessed her with a great strength that I envision helping her throughout her life.

Photo Credit: Miguel Ottaviano

Photo Credit: Miguel Ottaviano

               The man without a nose: An electrical accident severely burned this man’s face, and left him without much of his nose. He has a long way to recovery as he will require at least two surgeries. The first was to release the contracted scar above his lip and to create a skin flap on his cheek that will later be used to rebuild his nose. The man without a nose is probably one of the most gracious people I know. He understands just enough English for us to communicate about most things without a translator. He has to be in pain, but he never complains. Whenever I see him, he greets me with a smile and every time we talk, no matter how long or short the conversation may be, he shares words of blessings.  God’s grace shines through Him. He is a blessing to the ward, and I am so honored to be a part of his recovery.

              Before the hospital opened it was hard to see the difference that we would make amidst the overwhelming needs, but now I am interacting and caring for individuals. Individuals who have their entire lives ahead of them. Who have now been healed, been changed, been made whole. We may not be able to heal everyone who needs our help, but coming here, and helping those we can is still worth it. I am only making a tiny sacrifice to be here, but through this time I feel as though I have been given a better understanding of how God feels about the world, about me. Jesus came to earth offering healing also. Spiritual healing. Unlike the healing I am helping to provide, Jesus’ healing is available to all who ask for it; however, many will not accept His gift. Did God throw up His hands in despair and turn His back on humanity as a whole? No he didn’t! He still sent His only Son to heal those who would accept His gift. Jesus sees the individuals. He sees me, he sees you and that was enough for Him to give the greatest sacrifice, His life, so that we might have complete healing.

Author's Note: While I am currently serving with Mercy Ships the ideas and opinions expressed here are my own. Mercy Ships has not reviewed nor do they endorse the content written within this blog.