Whenever I am asked, “How was it?”, I struggle to find the words to describe what was such a challenging yet incredibly encouraging medical elective at Kijabe Hospital. I give thanks to the Lord for His provision, faithfulness, and guidance throughout this short-term mission trip, and what a gift it was to be able to conclude my time in medical school at Kijabe. I’m sure the list is endless, but I would love to share a few ways in which the Lord graciously grew me during my time there.

Over my six weeks at Kijabe Hospital, I spent time with both the General Surgery Department and the Internal Medicine Department. The two specialties were very different, but I was privileged to be involved in the day-to-day care of patients. Much of these involved tasks that I did not have the opportunity to do at university, and there were many firsts: being first assistant in major surgeries, performing practical procedures, performing CPR for the first time, and taking responsibility for patients on the wards and in the ICU. This included reviewing and presenting their cases each day, being the first to respond to changes in their condition, ordering and interpreting tests, and updating patients and their families. Undoubtedly, it was a steep and daunting learning curve, and at times the feeling of inadequacy was overwhelming, especially when I felt as though I was ‘holding their lives in my hands’. However, the team was incredibly supportive whenever I needed help. I learned a great deal of medical knowledge, gained confidence in my skills, was exposed to a range of different conditions, and felt privileged to have the opportunity to serve the team, the patients, and their families in this way.

I learned to lean on the Lord and turn to Him in all circumstances. A significant part of the challenge was that patients often presented later in the course of their illness, due to financial constraints or difficulty assessing healthcare, by which time complications had already developed. Sadly, there were many patient deaths during my time there. The weight of pain and suffering, and the emotional toll that accompanied it, felt unbearable at times. I particularly remember a Saturday afternoon when I was walking back to my accommodation. The route took me past the hospital mortuary, where I saw a young woman lying on the ground. When I approached her, I was told that she had lost her husband and was overcome with grief at the sight of his body. As her gaze met mine, I knew I would never forget it—it was a gaze stricken with grief, emptiness and hopelessness. No words or gestures would have sufficed in that moment. I did not know her or her husband, but I felt the crushing weight of suffering and the insurmountable hopelessness that death brings.

It was during moments like this that I learned to bring my questions, doubts, and emotions to the Lord, and to turn to Him as my ever-present help in times of need and the anchor of my soul, surrendering these burdens to Him time and time again. I was also deeply grateful for the opportunity to do this alongside other staff members:

through prayer as a team before morning ward rounds, short Bible reflections and times of worship during morning handovers, prayers before every operation, no matter how big or small, and the weekly chapel services where hundreds of hospital staff gathered to worship. In particular, the words of the hymn “My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less,” which we sang as the Internal Medicine team after a tragic week marked by an unusually high number of patient deaths, will continue to remind me to look to Christ as the solid rock and cornerstone.

Throughout the six weeks I spent at Kijabe, I met many other missionaries, both short- and long-term, working in and outside the hospital. Their servant-heartedness, zeal for the gospel, deep love for people, and willingness to leave behind comfortable lives to serve on the mission field continue to be an encouragement to me. One ordinary morning, I stepped onto the ward with the Internal Medicine team as we began our ward round. My mind was occupied with the bustle and smell of the cramped ward, the number of cases I needed to present, the work that was waiting for me, and the anxiety of being asked questions I could not answer or being challenged on aspects of a case that I had not considered. At the same time, the consultant, a missionary doctor, let out a sigh and said, “So many precious souls to look after.”

At that moment, it became evident to me just how much love and care he had for others, and how that love translated into learning the many dialects spoken by a minority of patients, taking a few extra minutes to notice each patient and hold their hand, and making medical decisions that might be less convenient but were ultimately kinder. I knew that his love for those around him reflected Christ’s deep, boundless, and sacrificial love for us, and I was greatly humbled and encouraged to return to my everyday life with the same love for Christ and for others, and, God willing, to return to the mission field again one day.

These are just some of the many lessons that stayed with me and humbled me. My six years of medical school came to an end at Kijabe as my elective concluded, under the setting sun and emerging stars among the quiet hills of Kenya. I remember the overwhelming range of emotions I felt that evening, but above all, I felt a profound sense of thankfulness for the Lord’s goodness through it all, and for all of you who prayed and gave generously. Whether I knew you personally or not, you walked this journey with me, and for that I am deeply grateful. I would appreciate prayer as I transition to the next stage of medical training as a Foundation Year Doctor and as I consider how I can continue to use my skills to serve the Lord in my day-to-day life and in mission.