Bless the Señora

I was busy cleaning the dining room when I heard a shrill buzz…buzz… signaling someone was at the front gate. I looked up from my mopping and glanced out a window that provided me with the perfect vantage point to see the front gate. A dark-skinned woman, that I didn’t recognize, was waiting at the front gate. I looked around to see if anyone else was going to answer the door; it didn’t appear so. I was totally willing to run and open the gate, but I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to say if the woman started speaking Spanish rapidly. I understand a fare amount of Spanish, but if the woman started speaking quickly, I would have no idea what she needed. I waited a few more minutes to see if someone else was going to open the gate, but no one else was moving so I put down my mop and headed toward the front gate. I bound down the front steps and greeted the woman in my best Spanish accent. I said, “good afternoon Señora, how are you?” Pointing and looking up at the huge sign in front of our house, with eyes full of desperation, the Señora asked, “what is YWAM (Youth with a Mission) and do you help young people?” Amazingly, Spanish words flowed freely from my mouth and I explained that YWAM consists of a group of young people and leaders that want to make a difference in the world, we help wherever we can, and we want all people to know there is hope in this dark world and that hope is found in Jesus Christ alone.

With tears streaming down her face, the Señora started speaking rapidly. I didn’t catch all she said, but I did hear, “I have children…no money…I have no husband… my kids are hungry… we have no food… please help.” My heart broke as I listened to this woman’s story. I invited the woman into our compound and told her to wait by the front gate until I returned with someone who spoke Spanish better. A few seconds later, I returned with the YWAM base leader to where the Señora was waiting. I introduced the base leader to the Señora and excused myself from the conversation to return to my mopping. As I walked away from the conversation I prayed that there could be some way I could help this woman and her family.

Fast forward 2 months. It is Saturday morning and I am thankful for a break from the rigorous class lecture schedule that we hold Monday- Friday. It is washing day and I am really looking forward to having some clean clothing and bed linen. From my bedroom on the second floor, I hear the shrill buzz…buzz… signaling someone is at the front gate. A few minutes later I hear little kids chattering and giggling… my friends have arrived! I grab my bag of dirty laundry and make my way downstairs to greet the Señora, like I have been doing every Saturday for the past 2 months. Before I finish saying hello to the Señora, I am tackled by two of my favorite people in Bolivia, the Señora’s children. I hand my bag of soiled laundry over to the Señora, who is more than eager to wash my clothing, she has looked for other work, but is struggling to find a job, and she depends on the income she earns from washing my clothes weekly to buy food for her family. We count this week’s worth of my stinky laundry and the Señora announces I need to pay 15 Bolivanos (about $2 USD). I thank the Señora and talk to her while she begins washing my clothing by hand. I learn that she didn’t eat breakfast because she didn’t have even enough food for her kids to eat. I see in the Señora’s face that she is exhausted and not well. I tell her to take a weekend off. I joke that although I am white, I do know how to wash my own clothing. The Señora smiles for a second, but then tears start running down her face. The Señora explains that she won’t be able to feed her children or buy propane if she doesn’t work. Although I rarely encourage free handouts, I love the Señora. She has become my friend and she works so hard, so I offer to give her the money she would have earned for cleaning my clothes and I give her permission to go home and rest. Mustering more strength than I have ever had when I am sick, the Señora declines my offer and insists that she WILL work for her pay. I try to convince the Señora, to rest, lest she becomes even more ill, but there is no changing her mind. I give up the fight and excuse myself as she continues to scrub my clothing. I run into my house where I grab a glass of water and piece of my fruit from my secret supply and I return to the Señora’s side by the washing sink. I put my humble offerings in front of the Señora and I walk away. A few seconds later, I glance over my shoulder and I am content to see the Señora is sipping the water I left for her.

As I walk back toward my house, I review my to-do-list in my head, “I need to finish reading a book, complete a book-report, and create a presentation. I would like to go to the store to buy fruit and milk for the coming week. And I sure would love to have some time to email my friends and family or write a blog or two… so much to do and so little time!” I am almost to the door of my house when I hear my little friends running up behind me. Without hesitation, I decide my homework can wait a few minutes and I dash across the yard chasing my little cappuccino friends. We kick the soccer ball around, I pick my friends up and throw them in the air, we give piggy-back rides, and I tickle them to death, loving the sound of their giggles.

After about 30 minutes of running around, I reluctantly go back inside to do my homework. As I study, I hear laughter echoing in the yard outside my window. My heart is filled with joy. I pray, “God may that laughter continue… may you strengthen the Señora’s family, may the laughter of her children encourage her heart, bless her Lord… bless the Señora that washes my clothes.

  

Please pray: I just received this email from one of my nurse friends on the Africa Mercy...There is no easy way to write this or to soften the words, but Anicette went Home to Jesus today. She came to the ship last weekend severely malnourished and got worse over the next week. She was so sick...probably from the same feeding intolerance she had when she was with us in Benin. You wouldn't have recognized her. I'm sorry... I'm sorry you have to find out like this and that the words are even necessary. Anicette's mom was so upset so please keep her in your prayers. This precious baby was so special to many…

Hearts are broken...Please pray...

Designs by Laura

In my brief moments of spare time here in Bolivia, I have been working on developing new skills and talents.  My most recent educational pursuit is fashion and clothing design. Or, maybe it is more correct to say clothing re-design. Take for example the shirt I am wearing in the photo to the right. Before my creativity and scissors hit it, it was merely an old Gecko T-shirt that I received as a hand-me-down over 14 years ago (thank you Zumwalt family). But, just the other day, when I was studying and working on my homework, I had an amazing moment of perspiration, oops, I mean, inspiration, well actually I had both, but you didn’t need to know that. Either way, as I was sweating, I looked up from my notebook and I saw the shiny metal of my scissors from across the room and I was suddenly filled with creativity and the need to revamp the T-shirt I was wearing. I ran into my bedroom and with the snip-snip of my scissors, I chopped off the sleeves of my T-shirt. My friend that was standing nearby took one of the scraps from my shirtsleeves and cut it in half, demonstrating that the scrap could make a lovely headband. I then cut another strip from the sleeve leftovers and proceeded to tie it around the neck hole and arm holes on my shirt, first the right side, then the left. It was perfect. The scraps tied around my shirt made a lovely little embellishment for my newly designed creation. I put on my new shirt and headband and looked in the mirror, “not too bad, if I do say so myself, an old T-shirt, transformed with the snip of my scissors into a new, fashionable, weather appropriate, masterpiece, with matching headband.” My old wardrobe is being transformed weekly and for free! If I get sick of nursing, I may start my own business, “Designs by Laura, fashion at the snip of your scissors!”

Los Niños de Tus Ojos

     I carefully climbed down the steep embankment of the canal, cautiously maneuvering my feet on the slippery surface, knowing that with one wrong step I would slide down the steep ridge and land in the murky, litter strewn, brown water below. I gripped the bottom side of the bridge to steady myself as I descended toward the canal. I stepped over the cement ledge and onto the dirt ridge under the bridge. Ever away of the sheer drop to my left, I slowly inched my way along under the trusses of the bridge on my hands and stomach. The space between my face and the dirt was too close for comfort. Old watermelon rinds and bits and pieces of rubbish were only inches from my face and I forced myself not to think about the human waste I could be crawling through. A voice from somewhere in the dark yelled “tengo hambre (I’m hungry)” and a few seconds later I heard other voices echoing the same sentiment.
     I continued creeping along the dirt ridge under the bridge and I soon reached a small opening where I could almost stand-up. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness around me, I saw a small platform about 3 feet wide by 4.5 feet long tucked back further under the bridge. On the platform I saw an extremely worn blanket and a disheveled figure. The figure stretched their hand toward me and I gladly took it into mine. I held the thin hand for a minute, released it, and breathed a sigh of relief; I had been wondering how this street person would accept our intrusion in her home and her handshake confirmed our presence was approved.
     After conversing with YWAM Bolivia’s Mercy Ministry Staff who founded “Operation Restoration,” a charity that works to help rescue young people from the streets that are imprisoned by drugs, addiction, human trafficking, and poverty, we learned that the woman we were visiting was pregnant, but she had been bleeding for the past few days. Our purpose for visiting her that day and the others living under the bridge was to offer them a chance at life, in Jesus’ name, no strings attached. We were prepared to offer the people we came into contact with free medical assistance if needed, food, lodging, education, safety, counseling, and most importantly, Jesus’ unconditional love. I was so excited about the opportunity to offer life, in every aspect; to the woman we were visiting.
     As a small breeze stirred up the smell of the rotting garbage around me I refocused my eyes on the young woman in front of me. I continued to listen to the homeless woman mumble in Spanish as my friend held her in an embrace. I thought I was understanding what the tattered woman was saying, but then my brain went numb for a minute, “did I understand the Spanish correctly, no, I must have lost something in translation,” the emaciated woman before my eyes, had just turned down a chance for life. She didn’t want to leave the streets. How could that be? Why would this obviously hungry, broken woman, want to remain on the streets? Why would she want to continue living without food, water, a toilet, electricity, and medical care? I could not believe it; I had heard correctly, the woman did not want to leave her life on the streets.
     We stayed with the woman a little longer, offering the only thing she would take from us, our presence, loving touch, and friendship. Next the woman asked for something that surprised me, she wanted us to sing a song called “La Niña de tus Ojos (the daughter of your eyes)” by Daniel Calveti. Thankfully, our group knew the song she requested and we started singing to her. We sang in Spanish- “You see me when no one else notices me, You have loved me when nobody has loved me, You have given me a name, I am the daughter of Your eyes because You have always loved me, You have given me a name, and I am the daughter of Your eyes because You have always loved me, I love You more than my life, I love You more than my life, I love You more than my life, and You have given me a name.” While we were singing, I caught a glimpse of my new friend’s face in the shadows of darkness and I noted tears were streaming down her dirt stained face. She reached for my hand and I held it tightly for a minute before, she reached to touch another one of my friends. We sat surrounding this broken woman with love and care and she wept. She eagerly accepted our offer to pray with her and we lifted up her needs and concerns to our Father in Heaven, the Father who sees everyone when no one else does, and the Father that gives us a name, and calls us the apple of his eye. What a powerful moment.
     A few more minutes passed with us crouched in the dark and then, with tears still streaming down her face, our new friend stood and hugged us good-bye. We took this as our signal to leave and we left with the promise to visit again. I carefully crawled my way out from under the bridge and I stepped into the bright sun light. For a second, I was totally blinded by the light and I remembered a few scriptures that I have heard a million times, but all of a sudden they took a new meaning for me- the light has shinned into the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it, the god of this age has blinded many… As my eyes adjusted to the light and I returned to the YWAM base, I thanked God for loving me and I prayed, “Lord, may your light shine into the canals and streets of Santa Cruz, so that los niños de tus ojos will be able to see the Light of the Son!’

I Fall Asleep the Second my Head Hits the Pillow!

Any of you wondering what I am up to? Well, welcome to my world:
Monday- Friday
 6:30 am Rise and shine (I understand the rise part, but shine?)
 7:00 am Breakfast (Get there on time or the boys eat all the food! Breakfast normally consists of rolls that have been bought from the store around the corner. The store is normally, a little shop in front of someone’s house. We also have butter and jam with little ants crawling all over the jar, yummy!)
 7:30-8:30 am- Quiet Time with God
 8:35- 9:35 am- Class
 15 minute break! One of my personal highlights of the day, but I normally have to spend my break time running to the bathroom (trying to remember my toilet paper) and filling up my water bottle. It is so hot, I need to drink a lot of water, I don’t want a repeat of kidney stones, and I have been out of school for awhile, so I struggle staying awake in class if I don’t drink water to stay awake! Speaking of water, that is another interesting topic. After a few days here, I learned that my room and board fees don’t include the cost of clean drinking water. Also, if I want clean drinking water, I need to find it and buy it myself. This has been a very interesting concept and cultural learning experience. The majority of the time, there is hot, boiled water for me to drink, with meals, but I am not big on hot beverages even when it is cold so, the last thing I want to drink when it is 95 plus degrees outside with about 95% humidity is hot coffee or tea! Holy cow! Praise God, I recently managed to connect with a water company and I am now having water delivered to my home here. I pay $2 USD for 20 liters of water. I was also able to rent a little stand from the company that helps me dispense the water so I don’t have to tip the huge jug over every time I want water. I then transfer the water into my water bottle and cool it in the fridge with my name on it. If I don’t put my name on it, it is as good as gone! Exhausting!  Many of you may be wondering why I don’t boil my water and then put that in the fridge.  Well, with the schedule I am currently keeping, I have little time to boil water. Oh, I know, I don’t need to watch it boil, and as my brother reminded me, it won’t boil if I watch it anyway, but if you store the boiled water here for too long, like 1 day, a funky layer of scum and white floaty things forms on the water, and yes, I am picky… I don’t want to drink water like that!
 9:50-10:45 am- Class
 15 minute break!
 11:00 am -12:45pm- Class
 12:45 pm- Lunch (I have been extremely relieved to learn that Bolivians don’t eat a lot of fish or goat! Praise the Lord! The main food here is chicken and some sort of pasta or rice! Not bad at all! The first week here, I was totally enjoying the food and the fact that I didn’t have to eat fish, so I didn’t notice we weren’t eating any fruits, vegetables, or milk products. I let a few more days pass, waiting to see if the missing food groups would appear, but they didn’t and that is when I learned fruits, veggies, and dairy products are not really included in the diet that I will be eating here in Bolivia, yet another interesting learning experience. So, to ward off osteoporosis and another pile of health problems, I have the privilege of figuring out how to get a supply of fruit, vegetables, and dairy products and I have to pay for them myself (also not included in my room and board). There is an amazing grocery store down the road, but having time to get there is difficult. I often use a large part of my weekend to obtain fruit.  Once I get it, I soak it in a bleach solution to make sure I don’t eat any nasty invisible bugs, if you know what I mean. Oh, I love the challenge of living in a foreign country!
 1:30- 2:45 pm- Daily work duties (We rotate jobs every two weeks; praise God, because my current work duty is cleaning the bathrooms! Yikes!)
 15 minute break!
 3:00- 5:00 pm- Preparation for outreach, learning dramas, writing puppet shows, sports, personal study time, or class (activities alternate daily throughout the week)
 5:00- 6:00 pm Prayer group or small group time
 30 minute break (During this break I am frequently found outside near the faucet, sticking my entire head under the water, just to cool off! My hair dries in like 2 minutes and then I am hot all over again, so I repeatedly stick my head in the water again and again for my entire 15 minute break).
 6:30 pm- Dinner
 7:30- 10:00 pm One-on-one mentoring, chapel, street work, or homework time (activities alternate every few days throughout the week)
 10:30 pm Lights out (As soon as my mosquito net is securely tucked into my bed, I turn my fan on, and I fall asleep the second my head hits my pillow!)

I Enjoy Working With Monkeys

Current Status:
1. Roasting...But thanking God for my fan! If I didn't have my fan, I would have already melted for certain...
2.  Enjoying my mosquito net... Current mosquito bite count...maybe one.. mosquito nets really work...go figure.
3.   Busy- I only get a few 15 minute breaks a day from 6:30am- 10:30pm, not much time to write, sorry.
4.   Speaking Spanish- More or less.. things are going really well in this area. God has blessed me with courage to put myself out there and use the words I have and I am learning new words every day. I haven't made any huge mistakes yet, but the other day, I told the pastor at one of the churches here that I am a nurse, so I enjoying working with monkeys. I meant to say my hands, but the word for monkeys in Spanish (monos) is very close to the word for hands (manos), my bad... we all had a good laugh.
5. Learning- I am learning so much. The class sessions I am attending are intense. I am learning a lot about God and a lot about myself.
6. Hoping- I am hoping to get the chance to actually write a proper blog again in a few days.
7. Blessings- To all of you! Thanks for your prayers and support. I love you all.

A Princess In Her Pink Palace

      My night of sleep was less than restful. The heat and humidity were relentless. I wanted to toss and turn, but opted for laying still, hoping in that position I would cool off and find some relief from the heat swarming around my body. It didn’t work. As I lay on my bed sweating and itching my mosquito bites I decided to get up and go to the bathroom, hoping if I emptied my bladder I would sleep better. I slowly walked through my bedroom, trying not to wake my roommates that were naturally more accustomed to the heat and were sleeping soundly. I prayed there weren’t any cockroaches or spiders lurking in the dark waiting to surprise me. I made it safely to the bathroom. I finished my business and then realized I had a problem. “Oh, man,” I said out loud. I couldn’t believe it, I had done it again! Once again, I was caught in the bathroom without toilet paper. Man, it was like the 3rd time in a matter of days. It wasn’t as if there was toilet paper in the hall closet and someone had forgotten to restock the bathroom supply, no, the fact was, I was still struggling to remember toilet paper isn’t supplied or provided for me here (room and board here in Bolivia doesn’t include toilet paper). There is no toilet paper on the dispenser next to the toilet, you have to provide your own paper and remember to bring it with you on each trip you take to relieve yourself. I will spare you of the details of what I did when I realized I had nothing to wipe with, but needless to say, my brief moment of relief and relaxation quickly left when I realized I had nothing to wipe with. Still hot and sticky, I stumbled back to my bed and attempted to sleep again.

     After a few days of being in Bolivia, I was getting better at remembering to bring my toilet paper with me everywhere, but I was still roasting at night, and not sleeping the best. I decided I HAD to find a fan. I contemplated attempting to be brave, strong, and like a real missionary, taking the heat, and making the best of it, but quickly dismissed that thought and decided if I didn’t sleep well each night, I would be worthless during the day. I determined my only free day for the week would be spent searching high and low for a fan! I also decided to put a mosquito net on my list of things to buy. Considering my current mosquito bite count was 50 (yes, I actually counted all my bites one by one!) 50 bites in less than 3 days!
     The days and nights seemed to pass so slowly, but finally my first weekend arrived. I was exhausted from the travel from the States, the sleepless nights, intense classroom sessions, and language challenges, and all I want to do was sleep for hours, but I shrugged off my tiredness for the greater good of obtaining a fan! I traveled to the market and praise God; I found a fan and a mosquito net too! Mission accomplished! I thought about exploring town a little more, but all I really wanted to do was return back to the YWAM base, to set up my mosquito net and fan, so that’s what I did.
     As soon as I got back to the base, I assembled my fan and obtained instructions on how to hang my mosquito net. I eagerly anticipated bedtime. Finally, a few hours later, bedtime arrived. I climbed into bed grinning from ear to ear. I turned on my new fan, that I had conveniently positioned at my feet, I tucked myself in, making sure my mosquito net was securely tucked around my entire bed, I was determined to ensure I would no longer be mosquito meat, and I rested my head on my pillow. Glorious! Awesome! I felt like a princess as I lay on my bed surrounded by my pink-mosquito net canopy, which coordinated nicely with my sheets, I might add. Excellent! And with the cool air of my fan sending soothing breezes in my direction, I fell asleep in my pink palace.

A Greeting From A Cockroach

     I awoke to the sound of the pilot’s voice over the intercom. Although my vision was foggy and my eyelids were pretty much stuck together, I caught a glimpse of the majestic Andes’ Mountains out the airplane window. The grand white peaks towered above the surrounding red earth. The mountain’s grandeur is indescribable, but grander yet, in my eyes, was the fact that seeing the Andes meant my 24 hours of travel were almost over. I would soon be on the ground and my body was really looking forward to laying horizontal. As the airplane screeched to a halt on the runway I took a deep breath. Another cross-cultural adventure in my walk of faith with God had just begun.
     A wave of heat and humidity hit me in the face as soon as I got off the airplane. Oh, my goodness! Talk about hot! Praise God, I obtained a visa without difficulty and the immigration official waved me on toward baggage claim, ushering me into another life adventure. Holá Bolivia! I claimed my luggage, cleared customs, and connected with my new family outside the airport. After an enjoyable, amazingly spacious (there were only 3 passengers total in the taxi, a nice change from the cramped cabs in Africa) 30 minute taxi ride, we pulled in front a fair sized, gated, two story house with a sign in front of it reading: Juventud Con Una Misión, Bolivia (Youth with a Mission, Bolivia- YWAM), my new home.
     The base leader here at YWAM escorted me to my room and gave me permission to un-pack, shower, and settle in. I was the first girl to arrive so I earned the privilege of picking my bunk-bed, first. I took a few steps into my new sizeable room and received a greeting from a cockroach. Oh, dear! Forcing the image of the punk cockroach out of my mind, I went about the process of selecting my bed. With heat soaring through my veins, I went directly for the bunk in front of the door, hoping that in that bed there may be some blessed cross- breeze in the middle of the night. I was getting ready to put my sheets on the bed when I looked closely at the window right above the headboard and noted there was no screen. Okay, breeze or not, no screen on the widow, a perfect entrance for insects, particularly mosquitoes…you following me??? I believe my time in Bolivia will be an adventure, but I don’t want malaria to be part of it! Therefore, I ended up settling for the bed in the far corner, near a window WITH a screen.
     I began the un-packing process, but I did not get very far; I unpacked just enough of my suitcase to find a towel, washcloth, showering items, and a change of clothing. The base leader had told me I could flip a switch on the shower apparatus, to get hot water, but I certainly didn’t need hot water, considering I was almost certain that drops of cold water could have boiled on my skin. As the cool shower water reached my skin, a smile of pure satisfaction spread across my face. I stayed in the shower for awhile, until I felt thoroughly cooled off, then I reluctantly turned off the tap. I took my towel, dried, myself, and tried stay cool by picturing the piles of snow I had left behind only hours before. But, before the images of the snow banks could form in my mind, I was wet with sweat again! Yikes!
     Throughout the rest of the day and evening, I worked on un-packing a few more items, I survived and actually enjoyed my first meal, and then headed to bed. I lay in my bed sweating and wondering what in the world I had gotten myself into to. But, you know as they say, “time will tell” and I will do my best to keep you posted during that time. Blessings!

What is Laura up to?

     I sat in front of the nursing desk on the ward. I reviewed the patient census and looked at staffing for the night shift. With the recent addition of three crew members in the ICU with malaria, staffing was going to be tight. As I allocated patients for night duty, a new nurse, with a European accent, asked for my assistance in determining an IV drip rate manually, being from a first world country, she was not used to counting IV drip rates, in her hometown, a machine normally did the counting. After setting up the IV, I snatched a precious black baby off the ward floor and smothered the baby with kisses. Although I could not communicate with the baby’s mom, she gave me an affirming look as I used charades to ask permission to take the baby down the hall with me. I carried the baby in my arms toward the pharmacy. It was after hours and as charge nurse, I held the keys to the pharmacy. As I was retrieving the med one of the ward nurses had asked for, my pager beeped. It was the security guard from the gangway calling; a patient was outside the ship needing help.
     On my way to the gangway, I delivered the med I had retrieved to the ward and I found a translator to accompany me to the gangway. Outside the ship, near the gangway, I found a shy, African woman, with fabric wrapped around her head and neck; she timidly curtsied as I approached. With my translator’s assistance, I learned the woman had traveled two days to seek help from the ship. When I asked the woman what troubled her, she cautiously pulled back the brightly colored fabric that covered her neck. The mass she had hidden under her scarf was at least the size of a grapefruit, she definitely needed help. I arranged lodging for the woman and gave her an appointment card to return to the ship the next day. My heart was heavy as I spoke with her, I knew our surgery schedule was almost full, I did not know if we would actually be able to help her. With the woman’s permission, I took her hands in mine and prayed God’s will be done in the situation. I returned to the ward, ordered patient meals for the next day, printed out the night nurses’ patient assignments, kissed a few more babies, fetched supplies, sorted out translator needs, and ended my evening charge nurse shift.
     I love my job and the volunteer work I do with Mercy Ships, www.mercyships.org, the faith-based, charitable, non-governmental organization/hospital ship that travels the world bringing hope and healing by offering FREE world-class health care to the world’s forgotten poor/ my home for the past 17 months. My time in Africa, aboard the ship, has been absolutely amazing. In Jesus’ name, it is my pleasure and joy to live in close quarters, in a foreign country, working for free, away from the comforts of home. I absolutely love being involved in medical missions and I am truly living out my childhood dream. At the same time, the work I do is intense, demanding, and strenuous. I love what I do so much; it is time for a change and I am journeying to South America.
     I know many of you are probably confused and wondering why I would be leaving Africa if I love it so much. Honestly, this past year was very emotionally, mentally, and spiritually taxing for me. But, I know, without a doubt, that God has called me to more years of medical mission work and to fulfill that call, I need some more spiritual renewal and training. I must fill up before my tank is empty, so that I can give back more in the future. Therefore, I will be taking the next 5 months to refuel-train in Santa Cruz, Bolivia with a group called Youth With A Mission (YWAM), www.ywam.org the very organization that actually birthed Mercy Ships. The mission of YWAM is to “know God and make him known.” I have enrolled in YWAM’s “Discipleship Training School.” I will spend the majority of my 5 months with YWAM in a classroom setting studying topics such as the character of God, forgiveness, restoration, hearing the voice of God, missions, service, and the Holy Spirit. There are over 150 YWAM centers-bases around the world where one can receive Biblical training, but each base also has a specific ministry-service area or focus. Bolivia is one of the few YWAM bases with a medical ministry. YWAM Bolivia has a medical van that travels around providing care to street kids. During evenings and weekends, I hope to be involved with this ministry as well as working with other youth that have been rescued from the streets, the life of drugs and addiction, or trafficking.
     I am excited about this next chapter in my life. I know many of you may be wondering why I don’t just step-back and return to the USA for a break. Great question, I have no intellectual answer for you, except, that is not where God is leading me. God is the master designer of our lives. I believe he is weaving together a beautiful tapestry out of your life and mine. Sometimes he uses the same color for a long time, other times; he intertwines little splotches of color, life chapters here and there, into the design. I trust he knows what he is doing. Kansas-Idaho-Canada-New Hampshire-Africa-Bolivia… I am okay with that!
     I would appreciate your continued thoughts and prayers as I head to Bolivia. There are a number of ways you can pray for me:

1. Pray for my health- Considering I will now be living on land & off the ship, I will be exposed to many more tropical infections that my body is not immune to.

2. Pray for my safety- I will be flying, driving, walking, traveling, not always in the safest territory, and it goes without saying, I need the Lord’s protection.

3. Pray for my YWAM team - Pray for our unity, strength, faith, & energy as we serve.

4. Pray for cultural adjustments- I will be continuing to learn Spanish. Pray for my relationships as a single woman, as I attempt to build friendships with the Bolivians and my team.

5. Pray for my future direction- My 5 months with YWAM will go quickly. What’s next…Do I return to the ship? Enroll in a tropical nursing course to gain more understanding of the illnesses I encounter? Do I apply to a land-based mission hospital?


In His Service,
Laura Ziulkowski