Go Home! part 1

A missionary is told to go home to the United States as soon as possible.

We followed the doctor into a private room that looked like a chapel. “Sit down,” he motioned. From his demeanor, we could sense this wouldn’t be good news.

The doctor took a deep breath and displayed the result of the ultrasound he had just performed on Elisha. “I cannot really tell you what the problem is,” he said in his Italian accent. “I know one thing: You should go back to Europe or the United States as soon as you can for a biopsy. I do not know of any pathologist in the whole country who could help with this.”

I looked at Elisha. My heart thumped so hard I imagined its pounding must be visible on my chest, but Elisha’s face betrayed no extra emotion. “You do not have an idea of what this is?” he asked quietly, no sound of fear or panic in his voice.

“No, this is not my field. But I know you should go home soon and have this checked out.”

Quietly thanking him, we left the room. As we waited in line to pay for the consultation, the doctor we had just seen walked by and waived his hand toward us. “Just go, you do not have to pay.”

We left the hospital without a word. There was not much to say. Three months before, a sudden growth had appeared in Elisha’s lower abdomen. We had called a lifestyle center in the United States and described the growth and the accompanying symptoms. They had prescribed turmeric to reduce inflammation, hydrotherapy to increase circulation and a charcoal poultice every evening to draw the toxins out of the growth. We had followed the recommendations, but the growth had not disappeared. The word cancer had crossed my mind many times and I had lifted up my prayer, “Lord, let it not be cancer.” Yet I hadn’t truly believed that my otherwise healthy, active husband could have cancer.

The three months since the growth’s first appearance had been extremely busy. At last, three days after graduation, the campus had become empty and quiet. We both felt urged to go to the hospital by an inner intuition we recognized as God’s still small voice. Knowing that some of the physicians lacked competence, we had prayed that the Lord would lead us to a helpful doctor.

The Italian doctor we had just seen was only visiting the hospital on a mission trip. God had provided a skilled doctor for us to see before we had even thought to pray for one! Now this visiting doctor had asked us to go back to a country with better facilities.

Back home at our quiet campus, we called our travel agent in Oregon. “I do not think I can find anything cheap,” he told us. “This is December and we are entering the red season when tickets are outrageously expensive. But give me a few hours and I will call you back.”

We did not have the money for expensive tickets, but the doctor’s serious counsel still rang in my ears. “I will stay behind and you can go and have this checked,” I told Elisha.

“Let us pray about it and we will see,” he answered.

A few hours later, an e-mail came in from the travel agent. “I am very astonished: there is a very good price on a ticket for a departure in three days. I had to double-check this website Thepreserveatlosaltos.com but it is indeed the correct price.” Five days later, we landed in Chicago, happy to have been able to travel together.

(Continued on next page.)

AUTHOR

Nadege Vande Voort

Nadege and her husband
Elisha operate Eden Valley Foster Care Mission, a trade school for underprivileged youth in Tanzania. harvester2188@gmail.com; Box 17, Mafinga, Iringa, Tanzania.

HOW YOU CAN HELP

Pray for Elisha’s health, and ask God to keep him and his wife in perfect peace as they continue their mission in Tanzania. They appreciate your prayers!

Give to Elisha and Nadege’s mission via Outpost Centers International, 5132 Layton Lane, Apison, TN 37302 or www.outpostcenters.org/donate. Please mark your gift “Eden Valley Foster Care Mission.”