January 2021 Update: In Sickness and in Health

New Year’s Eve found me asleep at the earliest hour I can remember; with everything going on in my mind and body, I even forgot that it was the beginning of a new year. Towards the end of December I was diagnosed with COVID-19, and what started as an asymptomatic infection turned into fatigue and congestion. In the first week, I lost my sense of taste, had a bit of chest pain, and just wanted to sleep all day. By the second week, any time I got out of bed, my oxygen measurements were low enough that I would need oxygen, so I barely moved from bed in order to kept my saturations up in a normal range. They say doctors are terrible patients, and I think I know why. Most of my life, I felt like productivity was a big part of who I was – as I went for weeks in bed literally doing nothing, it made me wonder how life could shift so quickly, and afraid what it would be like if this was my new normal. Like most people, I took my health for granted. It was hard taking it easy, admitting that I was human, and a sick human at that. Even after the virus had left my system, it was terrifying not knowing what long-term effects might stay with me.

Malawi’s newly-opened COVID treatment center at the National Stadium Halfway through the third week, I still noticed chest pain walking uphill, which reminded me to go slowly as I recovered. By the fourth week, I tried to jog for a few steps, but had to stop when my heartrate went concerningly high. For twenty years, I’ve been running most days, and never even thought about what my life would be like if I couldn’t run. I’ve been encouraged lately by teachings about staying faithful after we lose things we considered valuable. Being the sickest, weakest I can ever remember has brought that really close to home. Would I still be me if I couldn’t run? How could I serve God if my brain was in a constant fog, or if my chest continued to hurt with a bit of exertion? I praise God that it seems I am recovering well, and that I was able to be sick while at home, with loving parents to care for me and a strong health system to catch me if things were not okay. But I know that these have been times of great loss everywhere, and many have suffered or will suffer much more than I could even imagine.

This month, please join us in prayer:

- For prevention of COVID infections here and in Malawi

- For complete recovery for us after the virus and no long-term complications

- For safety and logistics as we plan to travel back to Malawi in mid-February

- Currently Visiting family in Hawaii

For wisdom in how we return to work on the mission field, and how to invest our efforts in this challenging time.

Thank you for your continued encouragement and support,

Greg and Christina

Labels

I like things organized, packaged, labeled. Thus, the obtaining of a label maker at Christmas has brought me great enjoyment. Greg says I have been through 100 feet of label tape already. I can’t comment on that, but I can say that I have labeled everything over the past few weeks – from electronics to toiletries, from tea and gifts to Valentine’s cards. I have labels on the teas that I plan to drink with tea-loving friends over the next year. I even have labels just to bring a smile – “Dr. Miller’s Computer” for example, in a house where both occupants are Dr. Miller. Having things packed, identified, ordered, brings me a lot of satisfaction.

Maybe that’s part of what is keeping me awake at nights. As I toss and turn at 3 am for the third day, I know it’s mostly jet-lag - my sleep-wake cycle has been through a lot. But I also wonder if my mind is fidgeting with the uncertainty of what comes next. We’re back in Malawi, a good and necessary first step. But things have changed since I left. I have no idea what might be my working hours, my job description, my new routine. Today Malawi with its intense second surge of COVID is different from the Malawi I left 3 months ago. Today, Nkhoma Mission Hospital is different than it was – new trainees, new staff, new buildings, new projects. And ministry opportunities with the Nazarene church are at a tipping point – will they grow and expand, or phase out naturally like so many other community health projects? Finally, I am different. Compared to two years ago, my understanding of my passion, calling, and direction is different.

I wonder if labels might help – a job title, a vision statement, an outline of a schedule with time on different activities or months in different areas. I wish I could have a map of the next several years, and I wouldn’t mind if it was already sub-divided into blocks of time by hour, that would be comforting and secure, packaged and labeled. Yet Africa isn’t like that. Missions isn’t like that. The Christian walk of faith isn’t like that, either. Instead, it’s one step at a time, trying to be faithful but not knowing what comes next. I think I know what I need to do. One or two meetings on Monday, another on Tuesday, a little more clarity and direction bit by bit.

In the weeks that come, I will probably continue to stare at my tea shelves, those beautiful packages with perfectly printed labels. I’ll let myself zone out at the structure and order and control. Maybe I’ll drink a warm cup of tea in my garden. And then I will start stepping forward into the areas of life that aren’t so orderly, into a future that requires more than a printed description to figure out…

Loved

I’ve been overwhelmed by the love others have showered on us during our season of furlough – love that I could feel with all my senses, deep into my soul. My mother-in-law brought me a variety of fresh berries, whole grains, and superfood salads every day. She also provided me with delicious cakes, vanilla crème just like at our wedding almost a decade ago and a strawberry masterpiece to celebrate my birthday still months away. Friends and family draped us with sweet-smelling leis in Hawaii; we hung them on our wall in the guest room and drifted to sleep with the smell. Greg’s mom brought me a luxurious lei made with just the insides of pink orcihds – a silky luxurious variety named “Christina.” My mother also brought fresh flowers from her garden in the weeks we stayed with my family. We sipped tea while looking over Fallbrook mountains and celebrated butterflies emerging from cocoons together. My dad adjusted his routine so that we could walk together and see a Christmas sunrise and a starry night. A new friend met during this trip gifted us with CDs of her beautiful music.

Friends have treated us to ramen and cups of tea, love languages of me and Greg, respectively. And we have been loved extravagantly. We’ve been given lovely places to stay, a car to drive, outdoor adventures and indoor crafts, time alone to process and time together to brainstorm a future. Lakes, beaches, trees, mountains, Christmas presents, prayers, encouragement, quality time carved out just for us from schedules that didn’t easily afford it. Every time I looked out on a beautiful view and took a deep breath, I was overwhelmed the generosity of these people in my life. I felt filled up, even overflowing.

The first days back in Malawi have topped us up. Our friend drove for 4 hours to pick us up from the airport. We arrived to a house meticulously cleaned and a yard beautifully maintained. Our dogs cried to see us. One by one dear friends reached out to join us for a cup of tea in the gardens. A close neighbor has brought us things missing from our pantry – salt, spices, flour – and shared dinners with us that wouldn’t be possible without the additions. We haven’t done much yet, just oriented ourselves and tried to adjust to the jetlag. We’re not sure even where to start on the next parts of our ministries here in Malawi. But I do know that we have been equipped and loved in ways that we could see, smell, taste, feel, and hear, ways that penetrated deeply and will give us the resilience to carry on even if we spend this next season pouring out for others.

“God has created us to love and to be love, and this is the beginning of prayer – to know that He loves me, that I have been created for greater things.” – Mother Teresa