to my pops

The Francis Family in Ocean City, MD in fall of 1996.

Over the years I've noticed that my dad is the kind of person who attracts "strays." By strays, I mean people who don't really have a place to belong. For the longest time, I attributed that to chance or maybe to God putting them in his life in such a way that he couldn't get away from them, but I've been wrong about that. My dad doesn't attract people who need community, love, friendship, shelter, jobs, food, etc. My dad simply has eyes to see people that others forget, he has a heart to welcome people into his life, he has wisdom to discern how to help others in ways that teach them instead of making them dependent, and he has listening ears to hear people. I am so thankful to have a daddy who models that for me! 

I remember a weekend that my dad came to visit me during my sophomore year at Wheaton. It was a time in my life where things were turbulent in my romantic life and I needed guidance. The funny thing was, four of my closest friends were also at turbulent points in their romantic lives and they, too, needed some guidance. Without knowing what he was getting himself into, my dad took us all out for dessert at one of my favorite restaurants. As we sat in the antiquated, dimly lit room, the five of us devoured cheesecake and brownies while we leaked our confessions about our hearts to my dad. My dad didn't look at his watch over the hours we were there, he listen to us, advised us, and treated all five of us like his daughters. That's my dad.

I have a wonderful daddy. My dad is my biggest supporter and my loudest fan. He's also the first person to tell me if he thinks I'm making a mistake. He listens to me, prays for me, and counsels me. I am so thankful for his presence in my life.

I love you dad. Thanks for all that you have done over the years and all that you do for me every day, knowingly or unknowingly.

discrepancy

My internship has been amazing. I've truly become acquainted with community healthcare. I've done intake - taking vitals and putting people in rooms, I've shadowed doctors and nurse practitioners, and I've worked with the WIC program doing finger sticks to check iron levels and also measuring heights/weights. This week, I spent a day at an HIV clinic. It was amazing to see the relative normalcy of life to HIV patients when they are able to consistently take meds to keep their viral loads down! The doctor I shadowed literally told a new patient that once her viral loads were down, having HIV would be very similar to the way we think of diabetes care in the States. Half of me rejoiced when he said that and the other half of me felt enraged. I felt the weight of the injustice that was being played out before my eyes. Our poor live in comparative luxury. I know that even in the States everyone that needs medication doesn't have access to it, but it's so unfair that HIV patients in most of the world don't have the chance that HIV patients here are given to decrease their viral loads and live an essentially normal life. What I witnessed all day was truly comparable to a diabetes clinic - almost boring in the way that everyone was well controlled and simply needed refills for their meds so that they could stay that way, but at some point in the day I realized that I was witnessing a miracle. It's truly miraculous that it's possible to overcome HIV enough to thrive. We MUST share this with the rest of the world. We cannot keep this gift in our privileged hands, we must be intentional about finding ways to reach the majority world with the treatment they need.

written at my kitchen table

I left my hometown for college and moved hours away to a suburb of Chicago. Like many people, my first reaction to living in the suburbs was one of esteem. I loved the way that everything in the suburbs looked pristine and intentionally designed. style. In the suburbs, everything is presentable and pleasing to the eye
but
communities keep safe distances from one another. I know that this isn't always the case, but it seemed as if I never saw anyone get close enough to someone in need to welcome them into their group as family. At the very least, it wasn't the norm. As someone who grew up in a small town with lots of...character... the things I first admired about the suburbs quickly became the things that made (make) me feel confined. With time, I came to understand elegance as it is, a luxury. I became uncomfortable with the pattern of conformity and lack of unique qualities in buildings, inventories, and ideas. Although I may not have been able to articulate it at the time, these were the views that made my freshman self want to move back to my small town after graduating.

The more time I spent in the affluence of the western burb's of Chicago, the more I felt the weight of the needs of the community I grew up in. Our county has the highest unemployment rate in the state of Ohio. Over 15% of people in our county don't have any kind of medical insurance. The rates for coronary heart disease, high blood pressure, teen pregnancy, cancer, stroke, unintentional injury, and suicide are all higher than the average county in Ohio. These differential rates of occurrence are indicative of larger economic and resource discrepancies for people without jobs to apply for, who are far away from services they need, and without public transportation to move them closer to the resources that could help. As quoted in the book The Working Poor (David Shipler):

"It is not easy for men to rise whose qualities are thwarted by poverty." - Juvenal, Satires

For the last two years, God has used these injustices have compel me to long to move home after graduating from college; to use my education to give back to the community that raised and shaped me.

Lately, there have been a combination of factors feeding into my desire to return home after graduation from undergrad next May or following graduate programs or medical school in future years. I want to go home. I don't want to be a commuter-citizen, home for a few weekends here and there. I want to be committed, present, and helping to alleviate the burden we feel as a community. I also have a sense of simply wanting to return home - a place where I am well known and comfortable. I don't think that there's anything intrinsically wrong with that desire, but I also think if I stop there, at wanting to be home because it's comfortable, I lose what I feel I have been called to by God and I conform to the very thing that freaks me out in the suburbs. If I don't live with the intentionality of bringing the gospel through healthcare among the poor, I become the very thing I wanted to run from - a comfortable, distant, average life. What I was reminded of at the CCHF conference this weekend is that I could live in the same town doing similar tasks day-to-day, but if I don't do that with intentionality regarding what God has called me to, I might as well move to an island and lie by the ocean by myself every day.

The conference was great. You can find info about it here: http://cchf2.squarespace.com/

If you're interested in healthcare at all you should keep an eye out for next year's conference. I highly recommend it.

All in all, the conference was a great reminder that God calls us to faithfulness. I want to intentionally follow Him. I don't want to circle around the block or drop in for a visit. I want to move into the neighborhood and consider my neighbors my family because in doing this, I believe I will discover Christ in constantly deeper ways.

I wear cowgirl boots

For the last two days, I've been blessed to be a part of the Christian Community Health Fellowship (CCHF) conference in Nashville. This conference is a gathering of a fellowship of people who desire to share the gospel through healthcare among the poor. I feel so blessed to have stumbled across this community. It's incredible to be around such a huge number of people who are called to tbe same mission that I feel called to and even more, who are much father along on the journey and can advise me how to follow Christ. The men and women at this confere
nce are individuals I hope to emulate. Although their their careers sound like my dream job, that isn't what impresses me the most about them. I hope to emulate these people because they know what it is to follow and suffer for Christ. They have followed Christ into the lives of the poor and have countless stories of finding God and familial community in the least likely places. How beautiful God's redemption is, but not all of their stories conclude and fit into the nice neat package of what God has done. For many of them, the stories are about what God is still doing. They tell the stories of their clinics and their communities with faith, each story seemingly outlined by the phrase "so we prayed and God..."

There will be more to come about this conference as it has been wonderful. It has also been delightful to wander around Nashville with Mason and Anna - eating constantly and becoming the proud owners of cow people boots :)

Before I head to sleep, I want to share one of the biggest encouragments of tbe day. Tonight's plenary speaker was Sandra Post. Ms. Post lives in Philadelphia and exemplifies someone who embraces suffering to follow the call of God. When she spoke of how difficult life in her neighborhood can be, she said that even if she left the neighborhood, she would not stop suffering because the people in her community would still be suffering. They are her family. She couldn't be free from the weight of suffering if she knew they were in pain or danger. These people who were strangers only a few years before have become her people. That's beautiful. What is more, in the pain and struggle in her community, she finds assurance of the gospel because as she put it, the gospel is the only hope they have. Amen to that. As I anticipate doing Wheaton in Chicago in the fall, it was encouraging to hear the story of a sister in Christ who is finding God in a similar (but more permanent) situation. It reminded me of God's faithfulness and reignited my desire to live and work among the underserved of Chicago.

The gospel is the only hope we have, my friends.