From Morris: On Being Sick

I began to get sick on Sunday evening. The next morning I woke up with a mild headache and stomach cramps. As the day progressed, my headache grew. By evening I wasn’t very hungry, but still ate a normal supper. Big mistake. In the small hours of the morning, gut wrenching cramps, a frantic search for my flashlight, and a race to the outhouse, all repeated several times. And so on throughout most of my week on Tanna.

I thought that I had come prepared. I had the ridiculously expensive malaria preventative, the mosquito repellant, and a sleeping net. I had medicine for headaches. I had not anticipated this however, at least not emotionally. How can you? Malaise, a common symptom of giardia, was fueling my depressive thoughts. I had come so far, spent so much money and time in preparation for this. Why this?

Why not this? After all, was it not my intention in coming to participate in this translation program? You don’t have to hang around a group of missionaries very long before the conversation turns to stories of illness on the field, often related to the bowels. My ‘light and momentary affliction’ has been a common experience amongst those involved in this work. I was getting the full experience in just one short week. I don’t mean to paint an overly-rosy picture. I wish I would have been well. Just the culture shock of living in a new, very different place would have been enough, thanks. But, apparently not, and by His grace I am not as prone to second-guessing what’s best for me as I used to be. These islands are dotted with monuments to missionaries, both white and black-skinned, who died bringing Hope to these islands. Pastor Peter, Greg and Beth Ann have been doing this most of their adult lives. This week was nothing compared to what these and others have experienced.