I hurried in the door of our bungalow in Banepa, Nepal, with my hands full of bags of potatoes, kale, carrots, and mangosteens. As I lowered my load onto the counter, an onion spilled out and rolled across the floor. Suddenly the visual touched me with meaning. It was a fitting illustration of God’s blessings poured into our lives so abundantly that sometimes they spill out.
My husband, Dale, a retired Navy doctor, had accepted an administrator position at Scheer Memorial Adventist Hospital in Nepal. Having grown up in nearby India as a “missionary kid,” I felt as though I was coming home. The joy of serving God in this place was still vivid, and my desire to help intensified with every exposure to the suffering all around me.
Regularly a new situation would become the focus of my prayer as I struck out on my early-morning walk. Leaving behind the smoke of the neighbors’ huts and the sounds of barking dogs in our village, I would open my heart to God.
“Lord, I know You brought us here,” I would affirm. “How can we improve the struggle of the poor in this situation?” Then I would plead for Him to move the mountains of difficulty. I would return to the hospital compound with a renewed strength of purpose. Over time it became apparent that the most effective means of sharing my faith was to live the truth as it was embodied in Christ.
Collaboration
Early one morning I received a message that a Nepali woman had asked for an interview with me. The voice message simply identified her as CJ. I met her later that week.
“Ms. Susen, the director of nurses said you could help me,” CJ said after introductions. Coming right to the point of her visit, she explained that she had heard of a terrible difficulty facing women during their menstrual cycle.
While working at a camp for female refugees, a missionary had found a woman weeping. When the weeping woman confided the reason for her grief, it struck a blow at the very integrity of their humanitarian work.
On the day of her menstrual cycle, the refugee had been told that no sanitary napkins were available. Her plight had made her a victim of a guard who offered to supply her need in exchange for sexual favors. It was a cruel irony that one who was supposed to be ensuring the woman’s safety had become her self-serving taskmaster. Indignation flooded the missionary.
After comforting the refugee with the promise of a rescue from this degrading circumstance, the missionary lost no time. That very night she gathered scraps of clean material and spent hours sewing a stack of washable sanitary napkins. As she had guessed, this was not a solitary case, and her act of kindness quickly spread.
My mind struggled to see even one person in whose life we had made a difference.
CJ, upon hearing about this tragic reality, caught a vision for an intervention. She designed kits with items for feminine hygiene and began to visit schools with her gifts. “Days for Girls Ministry” was born.
“May we come and speak to women in your hospital about Days for Girls?” CJ asked. She then showed me the kit and the ingeniously designed washable sanitary napkins.
When she and her Days for Girls helpers arrived, I marveled at the spectrum of needs her message addressed: emotional, mental, physical, and even spiritual needs. With passion she assured the women of their value as she built trust and imparted confidence. Tears threatened as I helped to pass out the kits as women with hope-filled eyes eagerly reached out for one.
Thus began regular visits from CJ and her assistants. Her ministry expanded to include schools, where she also advocated for separate bathrooms to guard girls from abuse.
Precious Seed
Through the months CJ and I got better acquainted. Raised in a family that embraced Hinduism and Buddhism, she had always sought a deeper purpose in life, especially during her teenage years.
“My quest for meaning took a significant turn when a missionary handed me a Gideon Bible while I was in medical school,” she explained. “Intrigued, I began reading it and was moved to sign my name on the last page, declaring Jesus Christ as my Savior. Through the Bible I discovered that God is a living God, which led me to stop worshipping idols.” A smile brightened her expression. “I fell in love with the God of the Bible.”
After forming a ministry with some friends from the hospital who were part of her home Bible study group to help children from marginalized communities, CJ quit her job as a hospital administrator to serve the children full-time. Concurrently, she volunteered as a country ambassador for the United Nations.
Though we were members of different Christian denominations, CJ and I worked together seamlessly. Our theological differences did not prevent us from finding common ground as we worked for the relief of the suffering.
At the end of our assignment, Dale and I returned home to the United States, where we picked up the retirement plans that we had put on hold for the six years we were in Nepal. At times we reflected on the many baffling, unresolved issues we had left behind in Nepal. My mind struggled to see even one person in whose life we had made a difference. It weighed heavily on my heart.
One day as I was unpacking in our new home, my phone rang. I debated whether to respond to the unknown caller.
“Hello,” I said cautiously.
“Susen! It’s CJ!” She sounded excited.
I gasped in surprise, “How did you get my number?”
We chattered on for a few minutes, catching up.
Then in a serious tone she asked, “Susen, why didn’t you tell me that you were a Seventh-day Adventist?”
Before I could answer, I listened in amazement as CJ told me of her marriage to an American, Randall, her emigration to the United States, and their continued search for Bible truth. It had finally led them to an Adventist church, where the pastor had studied the Bible with them. They accepted all the new truths they saw in the Bible, and were baptized.
“We praise God for His love and kindness, guiding us on this incredible journey to truth and service,” CJ said as we came to the end of our phone visit.
As I reflected later on this surprising outcome in CJ’s life, the psalmist’s words took on a sharper significance for me.
“He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him” (Ps. 126:6, KJV).