Last week was my last full week of “ministry”. Sunday I am doing night shift, Monday I’m recovering from night shift, Tuesday and Wednesday I will be going on my last house visit, and spending my last day at the hospital. Thursday and Friday I’ll be tying up loose ends, the weekend will come and go, and then Tuesday I board a plane heading “west”. I leave this place in ten days, after giving it 23 weeks of my life. Then I will head back to the states after being gone 11 months. I don’t think I will begin to understand all that has changed in me until I get home, or fully see how much I’ve experienced. I have been in 5 different nations, worked with heaps of different people from different cultures and backgrounds. I’ve learned from text books, I’ve learned from people, I’ve learned from experience, I’ve learned from mistakes. I have delivered 30 babies with my own hands and seen over 100 be delivered by the hands of others. I have seen victories and triumphant recoveries, and I have seen heart breaking defeats. I have been moved by poverty, and I have ignored it. I have loved, I have hated. I have been humbled time and time again. I have overwhelmed, and I’ve been given direction.

I think about the ocean often, of trees and fresh air. I think about being alone, and just sitting. I feel as though I could spend a year just walking, sitting, walking, sitting, alone, just thinking. At the same time I want to spend every waking moment with family and friends. I am excited to drive. It’s been along time.

I will miss these women that have been such a strong part of my life. I will miss the excitement of delivering a baby, and the sound of their first cry. Life

Alas, I’m two weeks from moving on… Moving on to a vision that came out of no where really, but one that makes as much sense as the Birth Attendant School did three years ago. I love that the seasons in my life seem to be so unrelated. But at the same time, I watch as they are taken and so intricately woven together to form something beautiful. I am nervous, I am excited, I am ready.

This week I was able to go to the slum again, do an antenatal check, and distribute food to the wee ones. They are so beautiful. We even got to prepare the food first. Tamarind Rice. I cut the chilies, and my hands burned for the rest of the night.

The news said that it was 48 degrees C, 118 degrees F on Monday. I began to pray for rain. I prayed hard.

In the labour room this week I delivered babies 29, and 30. Rachel Christine and Lola Lucille. As my days in the labour room are coming to an end, I find that I am beginning to treasure each one more than the last. My second delivery was a surprise. The student nurses came with that panicked look in their sweet little faces, “Madam! Madam!” I ran over to one of the metal beds to find a head out. I had run to the left side and a student doctor to the right. The “conductor” of the delivery always stands on the right, so I was expecting to just assist. However when the doctor hesitated to get her hands in there, I reached in and pulled the baby out from the left side. It was extremely awkward, but she was healthy as a horse, and after a few sutures the mother was as well. As we were finishing up our paper work at the end of the day, the heavens opened and it began to pour. I looked up at the beautifully dark, cool, storm clouds and I praised my God. I like India much better in the rain.

I don’t know if I really understand what it is that is about to end. I have a feeling I may be concluding one of the most amazing times of my life. Ten days left of one of the most amazing times of my life. Let it be dear Lord, let it be.