A Wheelchair for Miesorela!

Meisorela sitting in front of his house with his new (borrowed) wheelchair.

Rejoicing in the yard when we got home. (My house is the white one you see in the background)

The neighbours washing my truck to say thank you.

This week was another busy one, but I managed to make some phone calls and did some running around, asked some friends from church, sent some emails, checked some directories, spoke to some other missionaries, looked in some catalogues from medical suppliers, with one goal in mind, to get Mieso a wheelchair. It paid off when finally I was put in touch with the Lutheran Thuso Rehabilitation Center. Occupational therapists assist people with disabilities at this non-profit mission organization and was told that if I brought Meisorela in, they could assess him and determine what he would need.

It was quite a ways away and off the beaten path, so after sloshing through some deep mud puddles, getting lost, getting better directions, we finally arrived. When I got there, some women told me I couldn't be helped because I didn't have an appointment, but I boldly repeated what I had been told on the phone 2 days earlier and insisted that I would not leave without a wheelchair. I was determined! (I saw a few wheelchairs lined up against the wall in a corridor and had used one of them to bring Meisorela inside)

A technician kindly told me that they had nothing and no funds at the moment because they relied on donations only. He showed that me some of the materials he could use to make him a custom made crawling device, but was out of the plastic and the liner. I insisted that a wheelchair with sturdy wheels would be best. His leg needs to be out of the dirt. (I had even considered welding him one myself, or getting Kieth to.)

Eventually, a caring and kind gentlemen came to tell me that Meisorela could borrow one of Thuso Centre's wheelchairs for a month.
Hallelujah! He also gave me a number for a medical supplier in Gaborone as well.

Things were looking up.

Next, I attempted to get the wheelchair into the trunk of the Corolla and it wouldn't fit. Then, I tried the front seat. It would be a tight squeeze and I had a wheel at my throat but I was determined. After all that, I couldn't, get the car to start.

I called Keith who was working at the office, and he came. While we waited for him, I sat down, exhausted, with a book that was in my purse "Oxygen--Deep Breathing for the Soul" and started to read it to Petunia (his 10 yr old niece who's been coming with me to the hospitals and clinics to help lift Miesorela in and out of the truck, and to translate). The scripture that it happened to flip open to was from Luke, and we read the story of the friends who went to all that trouble to get their paralyzed friend lowered through the roof to see Jesus. The Lord spoke to my heart...and I received a promise to see Jesus work a miracle as a result of my obedience and effort. (I think Petunia heard from God in that moment too. Of all the 206 pages in the book, this was the story we randomly opened to.

Keith arrived and we switched vehicles and he managed to get the corolla running again. (He knows it's quirks)

When we drove into Miesorela's yard and started unloading the wheelchair there were smiles, squeals of delight, and much celebration. No one in the family expected it was possible, and it was beyond their means to even dream of such a thing!

Rejoicing in the yard when we got home. (My house is the white one you see in the background)span style="font-weight:bold;">All things are possible for those who believe! When they thanked me I said "Thank Jesus. He made this happen." Then I attempted a traditional Batswana happy dance with MmaBepi and the girls. Today was truly a day to celebrate!

MmaBepi noticed my muddy truck, and with tears in her eyes, she offered to wash it for me. She was so grateful. Several others from our neighbourhood, of all ages worked together on it. I could hear singing, and rejoicing, and laughter, as they worked.
The neighbours washing my truck to say thank you.

And I looked over and saw Meisorela grinning from ear to ear.
Meisorela sitting in front of his house with his new (borrowed) wheelchair and happily chatting to his nieces.

"Pure religion before God the Father is this, to care for widows and orphans in their distress. James 1:27a" I thought of all of our support network and was filled with awe, we couldn't be here without you!

UPDATE!!! It's been 2 weeks since he has had his chair and the wound on his leg has healed up!

Caring for Meisorela

In an earlier blog and newsletter, I introduced you to our precious neighbors from across the street. I had prayed for MmaBepi last December, and when Jesus miraculously healed her, I have been called to pray for all of the injuries and infirmaties that cause distress to the family.

One morning(April 16th), MmaBepi and 9 year old Petunia came over and told me that Miesorela (MmaBepi's blind and extremely crippled nephew) had sores on his leg. When I got over to pray for him it was worse than anything I have ever seen. Looking at his leg, the wound was so deeply infected and looked so pussy and sore it almost made me cry. He sits in the sand all day and I think sometimes has to drag himself through his own excrement. I did pray and annoint his leg with oil for healing, but let's just say I was feeling empty and didn't have the faith for a miracle. I knew he needed medical care.

My immediate response was to gather Jacob and Abigail into the front seat of the truck and I hefted Meisorela (with 9 year old Petunias help, Keith was away flying) into the back seat. We drove to the private Hospital because it was a Saturday morning and it has seemed that doctors are only there every few days and not on weekends. The first question I was asked when we arrived was "Who will pay for the treatment?" Of course I would. It was not anything I wouldn't do for any of my own children and this man is God's dearly loved child.

They scraped out his wound (a sloughectomy) I think they called it, and gave me the antibiotic prescription and pain meds to have filled. I had no idea what the whole thing would cost, but Keith had just taken out money from the bank, so I was trusting that what I had in my wallet would be enough. Thankfully, the bill was less than I thought, (under $200 Cdn) and I was given instructions to bring him back every 2 days to have the bandage changed and the wound cleaned.

Every few days we repeated the process of lifting him into the truck, (he weighs about 40kgs, I think) but now it was to the government hospital which is closer, and covers his dressing change. Once there, I have to track down a wheelchair (which could be left anywhere) so we can get him inside. I started asking questions. "Has anyone ever given you your own wheelchair? Would that be helpful for you?" His emphatic yes was news enough that I had another job to do; track one down for him.

The next week I couldn't take him till evening and was scolded by the nurse and sent away because she had told me the last time that dressing changes are only done in the mornings. I tried to explain again, that I just was not able to take him in the morning. Disappointed, we returned him home without being helped, and I was getting very weary.

The next morning, Keith was flying again (it has been a very, very, busy month flying) so I had to bring Jacob and Abigail to the hospital too. The line up was painfully long and Jacob was experiencing extreme culture stress seeing all of the sick and wounded (and probably just looking for an excuse to get out of doing schoolwork too). By the time we got home I wanted to scream! I decided then, that I would just buy the dressings and change them myself at Meisorela's place and it would not be so disruptive for my Jacob and Abigail. (I had watched the nurses a few times and was confident that I could do it.) When Keith got home the next day, we discussed and felt the dressings and the wheelchair could definately be a worthy Johnathan's Seeds project.

Another 2 weeks have gone by, Meisorela is continuing to heal (a slow process)and I am still working on getting him a wheelchair (also a slow process). The healing is impeded because the bandages are always full of sand from Meisorela pulling himself crawling.

I actually took him back to the hospital when I saw the wound looking worse again. I had run out of the dressings I had purchased, and I secretly hoped the doctor would admit him so that his leg would have a chance to heal, and that he would be given a bath. But that didn't happen.

My friendship with the family has reached a new level and it had occurred to me that I would let Meisorela help us learn Setswana. We will read to him from the Setswana Bible and have a notepad and paper handy so we can write down and remember other things He, MmaBepi, and little Azalia say. And with little Petunia to translate sometimes, I really believe I will learn some of this language that has seemed so impossible to grasp up to this point. And, Meisorela's value and worth is increased in the process. I can just sense how much he wants to give to us because he is so thankful. I really think he will be a patient and gracious tutor!
Isn't God neat?!