Once upon a time there lived a charming tow-headed boy with bright blue
eyes and an easy smile. He loved to swim in the lake, ride bikes, identify
birds, play ball with his friends. He dreamed of changing the world through
love. He wanted to be a missionary.
Once upon a time there lived a sweet chestnut-haired girl with eager
brown eyes that caught everything. She had a sensitive spirit, loved
learning, relished mission stories, and resolved in her heart that one day she would be a missionary.
She made a brief list regarding her future:
1. I want to get married but not to a doctor
2. I will live anywhere in the USA except California
3. I will be a missionary anywhere in the world, but not Africa
One day these two children grew up and attended Andrews
University. There they met and fell in love. Together they worked toward their
goal, praying a lot, and God answered their prayers. They moved to California
where Jamie became a doctor.
While in residency, Jamie twice brought home stories of
mothers of young children dying of cancer. Those stories pierced his wife’s
heart, and she tearfully pleaded with God for those families!
Then they received a call to be medical missionaries to
Malawi, Africa.
Shred that list!
The first year in Malawi felt like doing the army crawl
through a violent battlefield. They questioned if they were following God’s
leading or stubbornly following their own wills… .
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A few people indicated that they believed we were under
Satanic attack that year. We felt isolated, wounded, searching for a safe place
to hide and tend our wounds as we inched forward. Our family also shook with a
serious blow before we crossed the ocean as missionaries. Tenaciously we said,
“We Crounses are not quitters. We are here unless we receive a clear message to
leave.” Nevertheless, I thought I hated my life.
I was desperate for our first annual leave. Two months
before we left on annual leave, I fired our first gardener, a thief. Two weeks
before annual leave, the seven men excavating our yard cautioned me to never
let the ex-gardener return to my house because he would be coming to curse me
with black magic. When that very day he showed up uninvited, the excavators
melted into the wall. His visit was brief. After we silently watched him walk down our long broken mud brick
driveway, turn onto the street and disappear into the kaleidoscope of chitenges
and baskets, I asked the workers if they were all Christian. “Yes, Madam.” I read to
them from the Bible that God is Almighty, He has defeated Satan, therefore we do
not fear. Bold for a woman who just survived a year of being afraid. “Yes,
Madam.” It was dutifully spoken.
Finally, Atlanta!! It felt like Christmas when we landed! I
begged Jamie not to make me go back to Malawi. Please, please let me stay here
where I feel safe and don’t get electrical shocks when I cook. He just looked
at me.
Then I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Clearly it was
another attack of the enemy, a culmination of the year. We were laid low,
moaning. I had thought I hated my life until threatened with the possibility of
losing it. I told God that if He healed me, I would go back to Malawi. I
wouldn’t complain any more. I was not bargaining with Him; it was a commitment.
I believed that those excavator men would believe that I was sick because of black
magic. I wanted to show them that God is indeed mightier than Satan, and
that Satan could discourage people but he could not defeat God. We learned that
my cancer was DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ, stage 0) Bad news and good news.
Good news was they could remove it all. With a double mastectomy I would have a
less than one percent chance of ever getting this type of cancer again. Healed!
God wins! I could walk forward in life. We were going back to Malawi!
With that victory, the enemy seemed to retreat. Each year was
better after that. Without realizing it, we found ourselves loving Malawi, the Malawian
people, the missionary community, the expatriates near us, our life. During our first
year I was so frustrated when people visited us any time they wanted! Soon I
found myself loving it! I felt lonely if no one came by. I cherished being a
member of the phenomenal Malamulo family. We were all there for one purpose—to
see the hospital flourish, to improve the lives and health of the people around us, as
quickly and thoroughly as possible. It was an awesome experience to be a part
of a team united around a single goal. It truly was beautiful, even in its
imperfections.
Every day since I held my firstborn son, my heart ached with
gratitude for our life together, and my soul burned with sorrow when I heard stories of
mothers dying while their children were little. I fervently prayed, “Thank you,
God, for each precious day of life we get to share as a family.” In the mission field, my children and I prayed
daily, “Please make us a blessing in Malawi.” We thanked God for bringing us
there. Jamie came home and said to me, “I love my job!” What a blessing God
gave us!
We decided that since we had been gone so much from Malawi,
we would not go home for annual leave in 2016. We would stay and work and take
a smaller vacation in Africa.
One night I told Jamie, “I’ve had two years to think about
this. I can no longer breastfeed a child, and the world seems so uncertain
right now. I have decided that we are finished having children. We need to find
a more permanent solution.” The next day I learned that I was pregnant. The
next day.
Really?
Now follow with me.
I seriously considered having the baby in Malawi. Our second
child was born naturally and it was an excellent experience, so I reasoned that
the third one should be easier. Plus, we now had a wonderful obstetrician who
is also my friend—an ideal arrangement!
While pregnant, one night I had terrible heartburn. Changing
body position didn’t alleviate the pain. I went to the bathroom took Tums,
walked back and forth, arched my back, doubled over, twisted and turned, took
two more Tums. Diarrhea began, and then vomiting. An hour and a half and twelve
Tums later, I awoke Jamie. He suspected a gallbladder attack and took me to the
hospital. The surgeon, using the equipment available, thought he
saw a gallstone. My gallbladder attacked a few more times until I removed all
fat from my diet. In light of this development, my OB and I decided that it
might be best to go to the USA to have this baby.
When I saw the OB in the USA, I asked, “Could I have an ultrasound
of my gallbladder? I experienced some attacks while in Malawi and I would like
to know if I will need to have it removed.” An incidental finding on the
ultrasound was two masses in my liver. Another obstetrician in the group called
me and made a ridiculously big deal about it. “I’m really concerned about these
lesions. You need to see your breast surgeon ASAP. Call today.” Instead I made
appointments with internal medicine and gastro-intestinal doctors who said that
it was probably nothing. After all, by definition DCIS does not metastasize. I
acted as if I believed them, but inside I trembled. Deep in my heart I knew the
answer: the dark oppressive shadow of cancer. I felt that I was being torn
from those who mean the world to me, the ones who need me most. It didn’t help
that my husband was eight thousand miles away. I
stifled the emotions as much as possible for the time so that I wouldn’t worry
my innocent little ones.
Because I was lactating, I made an appointment with my
breast surgeon. When Caleb was six days old we sat in her office.
“It’s okay that you’re lactating. That’s no problem.” She
headed for the door. “Oh wait, let me check this.” She shoved her hand in my
armpit. “I feel something. Do you feel that? We’re going to get an ultrasound. Right now.”
At the ultrasound, the radiologist tried to reassure me.
“You had DCIS? You live in Africa? It’s probably nothing serious. DCIS doesn’t
metastasize.”
The surgeon said, “I’m going to biopsy that. Right now.” My
legs started clapping. The nurse asked me if I was okay, and the surgeon replied, “She’s freaking out.” What are
you supposed to do when your worst fears are coming true one minute at a time?
The next day the nurse called and told us that it was
invasive ductal carcinoma (Breast Cancer). A liver biopsy also revealed ductal
carcinoma. There was no primary tumor.
Fiercely the battle roared into full onslaught.
Do you see what happened?
If I hadn’t become pregnant, my gallbladder wouldn’t have
attacked.
As a result of my gallbladder attack, I had an ultrasound.
If the surgeon in Malawi hadn’t seen a stone, we might have
stayed in Malawi and not come to the USA.
Because the doctors around me recommended that I have my
gallbladder removed, I asked for an ultrasound from my US obstetrician.
If they hadn’t done an ultrasound in the USA, there would have
been no incidental finding of liver lesions.
Being pregnant caused my breasts to lactate,
so I made an appointment to see my breast surgeon.
Because the other OB called me at home about the liver
lesions, I rescheduled for an earlier appointment with the breast surgeon.
If I hadn’t gone to see the breast surgeon, we might not
have discovered that I had stage IV breast cancer until it was more life-threatening situation.
Attacked, but not defeated. Wounded, but not abandoned.
What’s my point?
Often we experience things that we don’t understand, and
certainly aren’t our plans. Sometimes that involves pain. God sees the end from
the beginning, and has promised that He is going to take care of you and me. "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28
I’m also realizing more about Jesus coming as a beautiful baby
boy to save our lives, because God has saved my life through the birth of our
precious, perfect baby boy. "For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength." 1 Cor. 1:25
And once upon a lifetime you might realize that everything that means the world to you
now was once on your unwanted list. Then your heart will break…
… with gratitude.
Shallena
~ Love abundantly. See how God has led you. Look for Life.~
“A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his
steps.” Proverbs 16:9
