When Cliff said, “Uganda,” I said no.
I said I would think about it, but one early, early morning as I lay awake reading everything I could about Africa through my humble phone twinkling away in the darkness, I read about the risks of malaria, yellow fever and the travel advice for people who have had transplants before like Cliff.
Malaria: High risk. Yellow fever: High risk.
In particular, in people who have had transplants, the yellow fever vaccine was not an option, even though there was a recent outbreak in the area.
Rolling over in bed, I shook him awake at an unearthly hour. “Not Uganda,” I said into your ear, shaking you up from your deep slumber. “Not for you.”
I am his wife. More than anything, I am afraid of losing him more than my own life. I have travelled to Nepal, rural India and the villages of Africa without the proper vaccination and anti-malarials. But when we got married, I took care of myself differently, now that I have someone else to look after, too. In the past 1 month, I have had 9 vaccinations, 8 of which were injections.
Four months down the road, countless early mornings laying in bed wide awake, numerous prayers and intense, difficult conversations later, here we are, with half our homes packed already in boxes and two tickets to Uganda for a two-week recce trip, in preparation for our moving there later in the year.
One night, after two tiring weeks of going through challenging conversations with various pastors, leaders and our parents, you looked into my eyes and said, “Have you counted the cost, Wai Jia?”
I wanted to laugh, not out of disparagement, but in a wry kind of way, because that has been the question always on my mind to ask you. But I never did, because I knew your answer even before the question came to my lips. You are the sort of man who would die for your faith, count it a privilege to be martyred.
Once, we read a true story about a man of faith taken captive by rogues and was threatened to have a finger sliced off if he did not renounce his faith. You asked me which finger I would sacrifice, if I were in that situation. Thoughtfully, I said, “My index finger.” When you asked why, I replied that the thumb was most important and I worried that if I offered any other less valuable finger, it would anger them to take my thumb instead. It would be a sacrifice, but at least I would preserve my thumb.
Turning the tables around, I boomeranged the same question back to you. Unflinchingly, you said, “My thumb, of course. Because it’s the most important finger. Nothing less for Christ.”
So I never bothered asking you if you had counted the cost.
I thought you would never ask me. Yet, I was stunned. While newlywed couples often have conversations about their next down payment or chores around the house, our topics typically encircle around “What if”s, “What if you/ I died?” or “What if we got captured?” or “What if one of us needed urgent medical evacuation?”
We’ve gotten started on writing out our Wills.
I was stunned because for once, I realized I had never voiced all my thoughts to you- the many times my mind had wandered and re-played the scene of my pastor announcing your demise and me holding back tears at church; the dreams I have had of losing you through some tragedy; me preparing myself for the scenarios of either of us getting malaria, or you, yellow fever and needing urgent medical evacuation. I didn’t see the need to talk too much about this aloud- people would say I lacked faith or casually say God would take care of it. I don’t doubt that, but I suspect that the far reality of this happening to them makes it easier to roll off one’s lips.
Two weeks ago, we got news of a missionary family who had just moved to Uganda who had a car accident, killing their new born baby and smashing the legs of the wife. We personally know a friend who lost his daughter in Yemen because they couldn’t get medical attention in time. We have heard numerous stories of missionaries losing their lives or loved ones during their call. Last week, a missionary friend of ours in Uganda was robbed and knocked down by the robbers driving in a stolen car. When you are as close as us to heeding the call, these situations become real. You can’t help but wonder what you yourself would do in these scenarios, whether you could still praise and worship God and carry on with life if you were widowed, raped, or suffered unfairly.
The answer must be a resounding yes.
I am your wife. I am a missionary’s wife and I am also a doctor. I take it upon myself to ensure you get the best medical care you should. You see a well-known specialist 3-monthly here who waives our consult fee because he knows our background- I had requested a transfer of your care because the previous doctor wasn’t doing his best for you and I had had it. My heart drops every time your lab results come back peppered with red ink- I am still learning to put these things in God’s hands. I wrote to my professors about the yellow fever vaccine and risks for you- and the one who spoke to us for more than an hour, assured us she herself had been involved in writing the World Health Organization guidelines for international travel advice and that the risks in Uganda were comparatively low.
“It’s a matter of perspective,” she said calmly with a smile, ” An outbreak of 800 people in a country of 37 million is not a high-risk situation for yellow fever. But of course, if you compare it to United States or Singapore, then yes.” She too, had been a missionary doctor some years back and travels extensively around the world for public health research.
On one hand, we have had the opportunity to receive the best medical advice there is in the country. On the other, less experienced well-meaning medical colleagues often taken me aside to counsel me differently, hardly understanding that we have weighed the costs and understand that the risks of going to Africa is as high as the risks of one losing oneself in the rat race of money, status and lust in the comforts of home here.
There is also Cliff’s healthcare to consider. At present, as a Canadian citizen, he receives free healthcare coverage for his very costly daily medications and necessary regular health checks. With us transferring NGOs this April, we face the question of whether the state will still allow him to keep his healthcare benefits and how we can manage this, either through secondment or otherwise. Even then, by 2016, we will then need to return to Canada for 6 months a year for 2 years to renew his healthcare status. There has been a lot to consider, many things to weigh. We have been surrounded by wise counsel and are grateful, but other sorts of advice which discounts the calling of God and tries to fashion a more attractive, safer, more sterilized alternative is still rampant.
“Why Africa? I mean, there are safer alternatives all around Asia” is a frequent question we receive.
Yet, even in the midst of this, we know that God is sovereign and He is in control. Why Africa, we have no answer that would satisfy the people who asked this in the first place.
In reality, both of us are the” least qualified” or appropriate people to go. We are both now on medication with health needs that require regular follow-ups, we are newly married and have just moved into our home, I have an unfinished bond to serve. But can we argue the will of God? Can we fashion solutions that could outsmart His ways? Do we assume that we have more rational, more logical, more intelligent ways? In the bible, God chose the most unlikely people for unique calls as well- a stutterer to speak to His people, an adulterer to become king, a prostitute to be a heroine. I suppose, it is our own mindsets that dictate we must be 100% well, 100% secure and 101% sure before we jump into the pool, leaving 0% room for trust or faith.
Next week, I am to speak to an audience on the topic of hearing God’s voice. How do we know it is Him? How do we know all this is worth it? Unless you’re a saint, which I am not, then like me, you won’t and can’t ever be completely 100% sure. But we know His peace, we see His open doors and provision along the way, we shift away from openings that look good but hold empty promises. And then, we continue to walk forward, continue to trust, continue to pray and seek and be willing to hold our lives loosely to be moulded and shaped by a God who is ever working, ever alive. With that guiding peace, we just know.
It’s like getting married and saying your marriage vows. How can you ever be 100% sure of the future? The funny thing is, when I married Cliff, I was 100% and 0% sure at the same time. It was 100% fear and 100%risk and that became 100% faith.
There are no regrets.
So we enter this new chapter of the unknown, knowing that it is better to trust than never make mistakes, better to live to die than not to live at all, better to heed the call than never try.
So we are going. We leave tonight and will be back on 10 March.
We appreciate your prayers for us.
“Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies,
it remains alone;
but if it dies, it produces much grain.
He who loves his life will lose it,
while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
If anyone serves Me, let him follow Me;
and where I am, there My servant will be also.
If anyone serves Me, him My Father will honor.”
– John 12:24-26
“He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”
– Jim Elliot, missionary martyred in Ecuador