How do you end a blog? (a little overdue)

How do you end a blog?  What's the proper way to bring a chapter of life to a close?  (while knowing the pages of that chapter will forever impact and be intertwined with all the remaining chapters of your life...)

How do you end a blog that feels like it should've been ended months ago?

How do you write something that you really don't want to write but feels necessary to bring closure?(but that you actually want to write because you're not a fan of dangling loose ends...)

I guess you just do it.  

Leaving the m/v Africa Mercy and resettling in Georgia was as tough as they said it would be.  I didn't want it to be tough...but it was is...  It has had its ups and downs - and truth be told, we're still in the process.  Maybe we always will be.  I don't even fully know how to put into words why it was tough - I'll leave that to the transition experts.

Here are a few things that we found challenging...

• We underestimated the amount of sheer effort it would take to re-establish life back home again after years overseas.  Cell phones. Home Repairs. Internet Service. Car buying/maintenance. More Home Repairs. And on and on the list goes. Honestly, we got used to things being complicated in Africa (yet comparatively simple on the ship) - it was understood that nothing was ever as simple as "just run to the store and pick something up." But we didn't expect complicated in America...when in reality it's just as complicated (which makes it all the more frustrating).

• Not being able to move into our house when we thought we would be able to was challenging (at least it was for me!)(unmet expectations are from the devil).  And it was challenging to try and be content/thankful for what we did have rather than longing for what was coming (though it's good to be excited about the gifts that are coming)(see the conundrum?!).  Yes, we were "home"...but we weren't "home"...really feeling like we've been able to settle has just come in the last month as we've moved into our house and unpacked the few boxes that we had.

• Spending money.  I miss the days of scanning my badge...  I miss the days of $18 worth of stuff in the ship shop feeling like a big splurge!  Life here is just more expensive than it feels like it should be or needs to be...

• Trying to walk ourselves through this time as well as our children - in particular, the youngest member of the Cash Family.  She straight-up misses the ship - the ship is the only life she's ever known.  The tears have felt endless at times (hers and mine!).  We're still walking with her through this... and praying it only proves to make her (and all of us) stronger and rely more fully on the faithfulness of God.

And a few things that have made transition absolutely wonderful!

• Faithful friends and family who have welcomed us back.
• Matt's generosity to put together the wish-list of items that have essentially furnished our home.
• Access to Chick-fil-a, Cherry Coke, Krystal, Cracker Barrell, Five Guys...
• Ship Friends who have come to visit (and the ones planning to visit!)
• Being able to see what God is continuing to do on and through Mercy Ships
• Being a part of a healthy & vibrant church community (Christ Community Church)
• Knowing we are where God has asked us to be.  Nothing beats that.  Nothing.

If you're interested in keeping up with us, here's our info:

Physical address:
Cash Family
10311 Whitesville Road
Fortson, GA 31808

(you are most welcome to come visit anytime - seriously!)

e-mail addresses
diannacash@yahoo.com
nickcashra@yahoo.com

blogs/social media
like trees planted (Nick posts incredibly thoughtful and helpful content as he has the time to do so)
 obsequium fidei (I post thankful lists weekly and other random thoughts sporadically - very sporadically!)

I'm also on Instagram (but not so much Facebook): lifeasacash

So for now...at least for the foreseeable future, this is it for "the Cash Crew serving with Mercy Ships" blog.  Feels like we should sign off with "Cash Crew out."  But we're not out.  We're still the Cash Crew... we're still serving God... we're still trying to love others... we're just as much in "missions" and "ministry" as we've ever been (though we just call it life with Him)  (and as amazed as ever that He would allow us live our lives with Him).

life lately.

A few pictures from our life lately...we've been...

Talking about transition

what do we want to take with us in our "backpack"? (emma's response:  "i want to take Africa with me.") what do we want to leave behind?

yay duck & yuck duck - so much of life is a mixture of the good and not so good

transition ladder

 Packing things up

priceless possessions (depending on who you ask)

sending luggage with generous crew mates (one of which is going to be living in Columbus soon!!!)

 Making lists and packing more luggage

 Getting sweet notes

 Writing notes

 Having a Cabin Sale

Offering some of the things that we can't take with us to friends on the ship

this pallet star is so special for so many reasons....i was thinking of making it my carry on item. 

Taking down the wall of love

we're so thankful for the family and friends who have walked with us so faithfully throughout our lives - and especially in these past 5 years.

 getting supporter thank you's ready

#spoileralert

We're so thankful for peace.  Peace in the midst of preparing to go.  Peace as we think about being back in Georgia.  Peace in the good-byes.  Peace in the packing.  Peace. Peace. Peace.

Surely there will be more to come.  

transformation.

Saw these 2 pictures on Facebook yesterday.  I couldn't help but notice the transformation on Maurinho's face is as significant as the transformation of his legs. 

Hope and healing are about so much more than the physical changes that are made possible by your generosity and God's work on this vessel. I'm so very thankful that our God cares about the whole person...not just transformed legs...but also transformed hearts, minds and smiles.

Surely there will be more to come.

Sweet Miracle

Just look at this treasure.  Her name is Miracle and she was born with a windswept leg.  She's 3 years old and has been a patient here on the Africa Mercy these past few months. 

I did an impromptu interview in the laundry room with Justine, my friend and one of the ship's photographers.  Justine said that Miracle is such a sweet and spunky little girl.  They started calling her "little peanut" - because she's tiny and little like a peanut!  Justine said Miracle tends to suck on her fingers when she's nervous and that it was fun to watch this little peanut come out of her shell. 

Thought you might like to see a bit of Miracle's journey through these pictures.  (The progression of hair styles is one of my favorite parts!)  Many thanks to our amazing Comms team for taking so many wonderful pictures and making them available for the crew to use!  

Our faithful Father, through the work of skilled surgeons, nurses and physical therapists, has made straight what was crooked...and now there's a beautiful little girl who can run and play and climb trees with all the rest of the kiddos.  A miracle for Miracle. A miracle for all of us to get to see God's hope and healing in such a real and tangible way.  

Surely there will be more to come.

Cloudio #nomoreburden

So this happened downstairs yesterday (thanks to Ruben Plomp for the pictures and captions). 

 

This is Claudio. A 14 year old boy who is courageous and brave. Without any hesitation he walked into the OR room today ready to see his life transformed. 5 hours later he was free from an obnoxious big deformity that grew on the back of his head.  #nomoreburden #mercyships #madagascar #part1

And here is Claudio one hour after his surgery. He gave me a fist bump and a smile and is laying on his back for the first time in forever! Wow... Go Claudio!  #madagascar #mercyships #nomoreburden #part2

Surely there will be more to come. 

Somaya: beautiful garden surrounded by roses and flowers

This is a story put together by our Communications Team about a beautiful little girl named Somaya.  It's also a story about God's faithfulness to Somaya's Mama, Neny.  And it's about God's love for Neny's neighbors.   And it's about His goodness to let all of us be a small part of bringing hope and healing to some of His beloved children. 

Many times Neny’s neighbors told her to get rid of Somaya because she was born with a cleft lip and palate. They frequently told Neny to just put her in an orphanage, but Neny refused. "She is a gift from God. Soon I will find a solution to fix her lips and then she will be like everyone else. I was really sad and was praying for a solution every day.”

Neny was told it would cost US$122 for an operation to fix Somaya’s mouth.  “I earn 3,000 Ariary (less than US $1) a day. From this we must buy food and pay rent. It would be completely impossible for me to save this money. When I heard about Mercy Ships on the radio broadcast I knew it was my answer from God." 

Two year old Somaya was offered reconstructive surgery at no cost to Neny. Now she can eat and speak normally for the very first time. No longer will Somaya have to endure the ridicule from neighbors. Just a few weeks ago, Somaya returned home to celebrate her first Christmas with rose-bud lips and a restored palate!

Isn't she beautiful?  And with the tiniest scar to remind her that God sees her and cares for her....a testimony to the fact that He gives His children good, good gifts.  Isn't that what scars can often be?  A reminder of what we've been brought through.  A reminder of the healing that has taken place.

I wonder who this little girl will grow up to be.  I wonder how God's going to use her to bless and strengthen and draw people to Himself.  I wonder if she'll come serve on a Mercy Ship in a couple of decades.  I wonder what God has in mind for this little 2 year old treasure.  

I looked up the meaning of her name.  "Somaya: beautiful garden surrounded by roses and flowers." Our writer, Sharon, was spot on in saying that Somaya celebrated Christmas with rosebud lips. 

Surely there will be more to come.  

Zakael...a reminder.

I (dianna) needed this reminder tonite - maybe you do, too. 

  

...the reminder that life change happens.

...the reminder that our God is still in the miracle working business.

...the reminder that we serve a God who sees us...and works on our behalf to make our lives the best they can possibly be. (OH! that we would only cooperate with Him and His grace.) 

...the reminder that things can feel and look hopeless and devastating...but it doesn't always stay that way. 

The smile says it all. Zakael’s stay on the Africa Mercy was short but in only 7 days his life was changed! A few short weeks ago, Zakael was ashamed of the cyst on his neck and was teased by the neighborhood kids. Now the world awaits this young man who wants to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and become a soldier. Huge blessings, Zakael!!

I needed the reminder that we are here on a ship called the Africa Mercy off the coast of Madagascar so that lives like Zakael's can be forever changed.

I needed the reminder that we are here on a ship called the Africa Mercy off the coast of Madagascar so that lives like ours can be forever changed. 

Surely there will be more to come.  

Miracles happen behind this door

It's the door to the Operating Theatre of the Africa Mercy.  

A friend said it well on Facebook: "Just thinking of how many miracles take place behind that door... So many lives changed, saved and blessed. And so thankful for the surgeons, nurses, anesthetists, sterilizers, lab techs and so many more who work long after normal hours to make a difference for even just one person."

photo credit: KJ

On most days, multiple surgeries happen in each of the ORs...except yesterday.  Yesterday, one of the ORs only had one surgery.  And it was a long one.  12+ hours.  A surgery to remove what our Chief Medical Officer described as the "largest tumor he's seen in his 28 years of operating."  7.46kg (16.45 lbs ... 2 newborn babies worth!).  A tumor that this man has been carrying for 19 years.  

Photo Credit: Mercy Ships

Some prepared him for surgery.  Some prepared the instruments and tools.  Some (17 crew members) gave blood. Some drew that blood and had it ready for delivery.  Some held the scalpel.  Some handed the scalpel.  Some made sure the anesthesia was administered properly and continually.  Some prepared and served the meals so that the doctors and nurses could take a break to eat.  Some made sure the lights were working.  Some made sure the temperature of the room was just right. Some made sure he had the meds he needed so that his wake up and recovery would be as peaceful as possible.  Some worked into the wee hours of the morning to make sure the OR was ready for more miracles to happen today. Some are taking care of him right this very moment.

photo credit: Mr. Ally

And some prayed...some all over the world prayed.  

Each plays a part...each one makes each surgery possible.  

And this man is looking at a whole new future.  

Surely there will be more to come.  Hallelujah....there will be more to come. 

Screening & Such

For those of you who have been around with us the past couple of years (and for those of you who have been around Mercy Ships long before we came onto the scene!), you will know that in the past, our patient screening process has primarily been one, massive, day-long event where thousands of people line up.  One-by-one, the patients come through our screening process where it is determined whether or not they will be able to receive surgery.  

This year, Mercy Ships has implemented a new screening process -- the reasons behind this are many (we're happy to share them with you if you'd like to hear!) - but it mainly comes down to best practices and the way to best serve the country of Madagascar!  Smaller screening events will now take place throughout the entire field service -- the first of which began this week. 

Here are a few pictures that were taken earlier this week.  What a joy it is to think that these pictures represent thousands of Malagasy lives that will be forever changed in the coming weeks and months (not to mention the hundreds of nurses and doctors whose lives will forever be changed as they care for these patients)...

If you're interested, here's a blog post from Sierra - one of our writers onboard.  She shares "the Starfish story" that we love so much and her screening experience.

Yes, there are many in the line that had to hear a very hard and disappointing "no, we're very sorry, but we are unable to help with your condition..." But even those who weren't given an appointment card encountered the love of Jesus as they were seen and talked to and prayed for.  Please pray for those that received a "no" -- may they know their great worth even in the midst of struggling with whatever issue it is that they are suffering with.

Please also pray for those who received the ever hopeful "Yes" -- may God give them patience as they wait for their appointment day and then may they receive the best possible care and treatment as they come onto the ship.

And please pray for our Screening Team -- Mirjam, Jasmine, Naomi, and Nate (others certainly help them -- but the vast majority of the screening work falls to these four). They will continue these screenings here in Toamasina for three more weeks, and then they will travel to other parts of the country to continue finding patients.  Pray for strength, endurance, and energy.  

Want to know one of our favorite things about these pictures?

One of our favorite things is KNOWING the crew in the pictures....that's not just some guy blowing bubbles -- that's our friend Peter making a kid's wait in line a bit brighter and more fun.  This is the same Peter who teaches Eli karate and shares chocolate chip cookies and has Adel songs on his ipod.

And this isn't just another person giving an eye test.  This is Therese from Norway who met the love of her life in Congo and who gives and serves selflessly on the Eye Team.

And this is not just a random lovely lady taking notes on a potential patient.  This is our friend Jas.  Jas who speaks life and Truth and has a creative flare that many just dream about.  This is Jas who is a coffee connoisseur and has a brilliant accent and generously shares herself and her friendship. 

And these aren't just 3 people taking a break and chatting it up.  These are 3 strong and mighty ladies who have boatloads of knowledge, experience, and passion.  Kirstie, Mirjam and Michelle... our Hospital Director, Screening Coordinator, and Deputy Chief Medical Officer, respectively.

What a privilege to get to know these people and share life with them here on the Africa Mercy.  We get to live and serve and play and pray with some incredible people!

We can't tell you enough how beautiful it is to see the hospital coming alive again after months of being dormant... this week patients have been onboard for pre-surgery consultations and further screening.  On Monday, patients will be admitted to the hospital, and on Tuesday the first surgeries will take place.

These photos were on a nurse's Facebook wall today.  It shows the nurses as they looped around the wards and through the OR to pray together over the hospital. We thought it was beautiful and certainly worth sharing.

It's good to be here.

Surely there will be more to come.

Jean Bosco

Here's a story of one life changed during our time here in Congo.  Story and photos by our fellow crew members and friends, Grace, Ruben & 'Chelle.

Jean Bosco is a farmer. Just north of Congo’s capital city of Brazzaville, fields bear the mark of his honest labor – hectares of cassava, gardens of blooming eggplant and tomato, and lime and mango trees providing welcoming shade from the African sun.

Jean and his wife, Carine, worked hard to enjoy life with their six children. They enjoyed simple prosperity and stability . . . until a mysterious growth appeared on Jean’s back in 2003. What Jean calls his maladie was, in fact, a lipoma – a benign, soft-tissue tumor composed of body fat. Left untreated, a lipoma can reach giant proportions.

Jean explains:  “When my malady started, it was barely noticeable. But after three years, it began to rise from my shoulders. I became afraid; if I were to die, my family would suffer greatly,” Jean said.

Driven by concern for the well-being of his wife and children, Jean saved enough money for a hospital visit in 2009. But the appointments, bloodwork, and medicine quickly emptied his pockets, and he had to return home without surgery.

Nevertheless, Jean refused to give up. Day after day, he worked to save more money, desperately hoping for healing. Exhausted by the shifting, heavy growth, his work suffered and his fields’ productivity decreased. His family now found itself in dire straits. “At that time,” Jean says, “I abandoned myself to prayer that God would help me.”

Help arrived in God’s creative, unusual way. In 2013, Jean’s lipoma ruptured and began to bleed. He had no choice but to seek emergency medical care in Brazzaville. He found himself once again on the doorstep of surgery but without the means to pay for it. While in the city, he learned of a hospital ship docked in the Congo. “Go to Mercy Ships,” a friend told him. “The surgeons will help you for free.” Jean was amazed, and he wasted no time in traveling to the coastal city of Pointe Noire.

“When I arrived in Pointe Noire a few weeks ago, I crossed paths with a policeman on the street. He took one look at my back and asked me where I was headed. I told him, ’to the Mercy Ships.’ He smiled and told me, ‘You are in good hands there, my friend.’”

By the time Jean boarded the Africa Mercy, the watermelon-shaped lipoma protruding from his back weighed 20 pounds! Even in extreme cases, a lipoma usually reaches only 8 to 11 pounds. Under the expert hands of South African volunteer Dr. Tertius Venter, the massive lipoma was removed in a two-hour surgery.

A few days later, resting comfortably on his back in his hospital bed, Jean grinned and said, “My doctor thinks I’m a machine! I am too happy to feel pain. It has been ten years since I could rest on my back.”

Jean is overjoyed with the gift of health he has received from Mercy Ships. “What could I give Mercy Ships in return?” he asks. “What am I to say to God for what He has done for me? This ship goes beyond. This ship is in God’s truth. All I can give is ‘thank you.’”

Now, Jean Bosco – a farmer, a father, and a husband – can return to his family . . . without his terrible burden. His easy smile lights up as he envisions his homecoming. “Imagine your favorite fútbol team has just won the World Cup,” he says, “…that is exactly how my family is celebrating as we speak. There is a very perfect joy that is waiting for me and mine when I get home.”