A Visit

I was in the theater this morning assisting while our resident surgeon tore open a woman's innards to deliver her lifeless baby when there was a knock on the door.

"Who's that?!" the surgeon shouted with more than a little exasperation in his voice (the procedure was quite difficult).

"Dr. Malu" came the answer, in an all too familiar voice.

I dropped everything and ran to the door like a four-year old, screaming "Daddy!!!" and hugged him, bloody coveralls and all. I was so excited! Pops had come to

pay me a surprise visit in my village in Takai, Kano where I'm serving.

It was a short visit but the 30 or so minutes of it were more than worthwhile. I showed him around the grounds of the hospital while we discussed everything from university politics to world cup semifinals. It was just great.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, as I watched him drive off I remembered the last chorus of that song by Whitney Houston, "You Were Loved"

You were loved by someone, touched by someone,

Held by someone, meant something to someone,

Loved somebody,

Touched somebody's heart along the way,

You can look back and say

You did okay -

You were loved

Well folks, I have no doubt about it, I'm doing quite okay to have such a dad who'd cover the miles from Abuja to a remote part of Kano to spend 30 minutes with his son. I just had to appreciate him and my God.

And I'm still learning a whole lot from him - showing love.

Here's to the world's greatest dad!!!

And for you, in the words of the Diva,

So remember to tell that special one

You are loved.

With love, Doosuur.

A Conversation

Well done, my good and faithful servant…
Matthew 25:21
"Are you a Christian?"
"Yes. Why?"
"You're so... simple. Not like us."
So ended my conversation yesterday morning with a Muslim police officer who had come to me for a coroner's report. Initially when I saw him that morning, I had been tempted to treat him haughtily and with an air of indifference. After all, I'm been paid a paltry sum to do this penance called "national service" and no-one seems to appreciate it. Well, I didn't. I was cordial as I could reasonably be. Thank God good sense won over. I'm not sure if the policeman really meant to call me simple (expression's not the Hausa man's strong suit). But the fact is, I made an impression.

I thought it may be encouraging to the lot of you who from time to time feel unappreciated and perhaps useless. Whether at work or school, just remember, people are always watching. And so is God.
With love, Doosuur.

Reflections on a Rib

I think I cracked a rib. At least that's what the pain tells me. And I did it running away from a spider (hey guys, I thought it was a scorpion). Oh, the pain!

Two things I wondered about. First, I never knew trunk muscles could be that strong. My abdominal muscles forcibly contracted in an attempt to get me up from bed, pulling strongly on that poor rib. Something had to give (and it's not like I gym or anything). The wonder of God's creation called the body!

But it was the pain that most caught my attention. The most mundane tasks became an ordeal. I slept fitfully that night. Eating, drinking, coughing, walking, even breathing became so much more difficult. I couldn't do anything without thinking about that rib. Because it was hurting.

When Jesus compares the Church to the body he draws several parallels, so I feel at liberty to seek some of my own. I wonder how much the attention of the Church is taken up by the hurting of it's members. If you've ever injured a toe or had a bad tooth, you'll know what I'm talking about. You just can't get your mind off that hurting part. What about us? Which member of Christ's body is hurting next to you? Someone lose his father? Someone had money stolen at gunpoint? Someone fail an exam? All too common hurts around us everyday.

I think Christ's desire is that I show them something of the concern I have for my blasted cracked rib.

With love, Doosuur