Nat's eyes

     About three months before we departed for Guinea, Nathanael’s right eye suddenly turned drastically inward.  We noticed it doing this a couple times before, but suddenly it was like it just got stuck there.  Like when your mom tells you not to make faces because it might stay that way.  I assumed it might be because he was now having to apply himself more and more to reading, but I also wondered if it might be something spiritual.  This change happened right around the same time we announced we were moving to Guinea.

     Over the next few months we had the eye looked at a few different times.  The doctor prescribed glasses with bifocals to help train the eye to look straight again.  After looking all over Panama for glasses that fit, we finally found a pair that seemed to work, but then we had to take them back a couple times to adjust the prescription.  When we finally got the glasses it was time to leave.

     So far the glasses seem to help a little, but it’s hard for Nathanael to look through them so he usually just looks over them.  Then this past week we noticed some redness in his good eye.  Upon looking closer there seemed to be a sore or small bump in that eye.  We also noticed this eye turning in on occasion, which really got us worried.  How is our son supposed to see if both his eyes go crossed?  It’s hard too because he is really progressing with his reading, and he wants desperately to play sports with the older boys, but his eyes give him trouble, and he has a hard time focusing.  So Andres and I took him to the clinic.  My biggest concern was the redness and the bump.  I thought maybe the good eye was turning in because it was now experiencing this other trouble, and it is used to being covered up with the patch. 

     The Boke clinic is a small office on the hospital grounds.  The reception is a large empty room with wooden benches around the walls and dusty floors.  There’s nothing on the walls except for a poster with the grossest looking eye problems you’ve ever seen.  The “doctors” there were trained by a special medical mission.  I’m not sure what this means, but I’m guessing they were taught to recognize the biggest, most common eye problems and prescribe basic treatments and medications.  These two guys were very friendly and invited Nathanael to meet with them once a week to teach them English.  When they inspected the redness in the eye, they immediately diagnosed it as conjunctivitis (what Jennifer calls pinkeye) and prescribed antibiotic drops for it.  They also explained a little about what they knew for the lazy eyes, mentioning that Nathanael should see a pediatric ophthalmologist.  “But there aren’t any in all of Africa,” he told me.  “Well, not in Guinea, at least.  Maybe in Senegal.”  Even in Conakry most eye specialists are just optometrists, trained to help you with your eye prescription, not diagnose major problems.

      We’ve applied the drops now for the past four days, but the redness is still there and the little bump still hasn’t gone away.  To make matters even more confusing, we are in the process of dialoguing with the Galvez and CBC about plans for next year.  Of course everyone (including ourselves) wants to know if we’re staying or going back.  The eye thing only complicates things as we all wonder if Nathanael needs more serious treatment, including possibly surgery for the inward turning eyes. 

     Nathanael has remained really good natured about all of this, being especially brave at the doctor’s office and taking his drops.  But for me,this whole process has been very difficult.  I can travel, I can move, I can put up with no water, no electricity, trying new foods, etc…, but I have a really hard time watching my kids suffer.  It’s really rough on my faith.  Most of my prayers seem to be prayers of desperation, crying out to God to heal my son and deliver us from this once and for all.  For a while I will feel ok, regain strength, and then another problem will surface and I’m on my knees, begging God for help.  I know God is good.  I know God cares.  I know God is in control and has the best of plans for me and my son.  It’s just that it feels like He’s not listening, like He’s not doing anything.  The distance between my head and my heart is stretching my faith like a thin rubber band.  The good news about being on the mission field, though, is that faith is all we have.  We don’t have too many other options, doctors or hospitals.  God is all we’ve got.

     So we’re praying for a miracle.  We’re praying for guidance and wisdom.  I’m praying for strength.  Other than this problem, I feel great.  Our school is going really well.  The ministry opportunities are starting to show signs of good fruit.  God has kept us safe and healthy.  But this eye thing is the thorn in my flesh.  Like Paul, I’m crying out to God to remove it.  But for now the only answer seems to be, “My grace is sufficient for you.” 

     “If that’s your answer, Lord, please give me more.  I need your grace.  I need you.  Amen!”