I wonder, perhaps in my little niche of the world, the heart of suburban America, I am making a difference?
This is the thought that floats through my mind as I encounter a potential road block. A slight, maybe set back. The pathway has been laid before me, or so I thought. Nov '09 was my first trip to the DR. I couldn't get enough. I dreamt of that place while asleep and awake. My heart yearned to be back, to start a life there. I returned in Feb '10 only to work with an incredible missionary doctor. A Dominican Physician who worked with a Christian organization, Students International in Jarabacoa, DR. He suggested I look into the missionary group. My home church had been taking students to work with them on short term trips for years. I returned in the summer of 2010 to discover an organization I would love to work with. And, miraculously they were looking for someone to help with the medical site. An American. I knew I wasn't yet equipped for leaving America but when I was believed SI was the organization to work with.
I returned to America and started a new job back in the suburbs. Healing from a tumultuous year and preparing my heart for what lay ahead. Everything had led up to this point. From that initial calling on the mountainside of Mexico to doors opening in Jarabacoa. I once again doubted my path and once again God answered every prayer. The DR never far away. I took a job as a hematology/oncology PA with a Physician who took me under his wing and taught me more medicine than I learned in two grueling years of school. I learned what it felt to truly love a patient and then despite my best efforts, to lose them. I started attending a church service that pushed my spiritual beliefs and opened my mind to a world that only He can provide. I was healing.
Summer turned into Fall and I returned to the DR with my church only this time my Mom came along. My prayers had been answered. I had the opportunity to share the place and people I love. She understood and gave her blessing. More than I could ask. Fall turned to winter. When do I jump? When do I start the application process?
March of 2011. The DR still pulsating in my blood. Never far from my thoughts. Ok God. Let's go. 24 essays and 2 months of prayer, devotion, bible searching. Two months of feeling not good enough. Of realizing what a new Christian I am and how much I have to learn. I emerge with a deeper faith and understanding. A new excitement for what lies ahead. A love for the patients I have in America but new dreams of what God has in store for me there. Perhaps a malnutrition center? A halfway house for patients who can no longer afford their hospital stay but would die if they returned to the streets?
I submitted my application with faith that if this was God's will, that it be done. Relief. Then the possible hiccup. Did I truly believe the only way to heaven is through our Father's son Jesus Christ who died for our sins? Yes. With all my heart. Do I struggle with the idea that many people I love don't share this belief. Yes. Do I pray for them. Yes. Do I take comfort that He loved them first and more than I could ever try to love them. Yes. That he wants them to know Him even more than me. Yes.
Do I have my doubts as a Christian. Of course. We are human. Perhaps not doubts, but struggles. I rest in the notion that He knows my heart. He knows where He wants me and will lead me there. And until that point when my heart is fulfilled and I am Dr Quinn....Christian Medical Missionary....I will rest in the idea that perhaps in my little niche of the world, in the heart of Suburban America which may seem the opposite of a third world jungle I am making a difference in the lives of my patients.
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