Jamaica, New England, and back to Richmond

Cycling around my parents' home in Weyers Cave, VA made me realize that I appreciate this scenery even more than shores of the Caribbean

A new semester arrives:

It's been a well-spent six weeks away from the dental school (I'm definitely ready to get back to my dental studies!). I enjoyed serving in Jamaica for two weeks with a dental group and was glad to spend time with family camping at a state park on the Chesapeake Bay, as we have annually done for nearly 15 years. I was delighted to shadow a medical director and his team at several nursing home facilities in my hometown and provided an in-service talk on oral hygiene to one of the facilities' nurse teams. I joined a group of bicyclists for a five day ride in the Finger Lakes region of NY; cycling over 250 miles, the group raised funds for Mennonite Central Committee's reforestation and environmental education efforts in Haiti. Returning from upstate New York for two days of orientation at the dental school, I am able to evade the heat and humidity of Richmond for several more days while at a summit in Falmouth, Massachusetts with the National Interprofessional Initiative on Oral Health, to which a senior medical student (the founding president) and I (the current president) have been invited to share about VCU's student initiated and led Inter Health Professionals Alliance. I regret not being enrolled in any gerontology courses this semester, as I am advised to get a taste of the challenging second year of dental school before taking on an extra academic load, but was delighted to receive an invitation to join the newly formed Long-Term Care Dental Access Work Group for the Virginia Dental Association. I look forward to all the academic and extracurricular aspects of my third semester of dental school. As the opportunities continue to roll in, I hope I might discern how to 'pull in the reins' before a person or situation has to be burdened with the task....but so far, excitement is overshadowing such prudent caution.

These little reptiles would appear in the morning and evening to take care of some of the insects at our guesthouse in Jamaica

The 'Tree House' guesthouse offered an ocean-hovering porch on the coral-laden shore

Locals (and those traveling from a distance) await dental treatment at the Helping Hand Dental Clinic

The cheerfully busy dental clinic

A shy but friendly Jamaican

My last two days in Jamaica were spent at a children's home near Montego Bay

A jolly family portrait

Picking guineps with Jerome, who unceremoniously gifted me a bracelet he'd woven within five minutes of my arrival at the Robin's Nest

Reflections from Jamaica:

Walking down a dusty neighborhood street without the validation of scrubs in the late afternoon (just as locals emerged from their homes to begin evening fellowship), I wondered how my trespassing might be enriching rather than disruptive. Informal interactions often involve pleas for financial attention, requests for a response to comments about physical appearance, or simple mutual passivity. The staged feel of such exchanges seems empty and draining, perhaps because certain expectations are assigned to each side. An unscripted (and therefore unexpected) response on either side of the interaction might provide an avenue out of such impersonal junctions into more enriching exchanges.

Trying to look forward after a brief greeting, as we passed a group of Jamaicans near a small grocery shop, I focused on lightly tossing my newly purchased mango. Not hearing the beginning of the address, I comprehended, "Can I have a mango?" Regretting that my mango-tossing attracted attention, I turned and tossed the mango with a smile, turning back around to continue my trek. Being called back, my mango-requesting friend approached to return the mango, saying, "It's OK; take it back," which I clarified, "Are you sure? You can have it." His response, "I didn't know you would be so kind," caught me off guard. The statement seemed both insulting and flattering, perhaps hinting at an underlying intent for the exchange. Uttering a sheepish "Thank you," I resumed my mango-tossing journey, feeling content and hopeful about the positive fingerprint I may have left on the interaction.

The Jamaican's surprise at my "kindness" caused me to wonder how I succeeded or failed at showing the same characteristic in other situations during the week. I cherished the occasional complement from a patient about having enjoyed the treatment, performed by a "gentle and kind" clinician and am challenged to return home and seek opportunities to thus surprise people.

****

Opening the shutters on an early Jamaican morning to a beautiful country scape with mountains in the distance, I hear goats, birds, and chickens starting about their daily business. Someone starts pounding a hammer on a construction project and the never-ceasing breeze ruffles palm branches; meanwhile, waves rush somewhere in the background. Waking in such a setting on several mornings, I consider what it would be like to call this land home. Would I arise a bit earlier, before the sun becomes harsh, and pick up my hammer to join the neighbor on his project? How long would it take before I would stop hearing the unique sounds of animals and nature? When did I cease to thus stop to listen and look at my surroundings in the States?

One of my friends commented on a picture I sent by saying, "Jamaica looks and sounds like paradise." In my response, I expressed my desire to be content wherever I go, hopeful that if we fully appreciate, respect, and love our homes and surroundings, they would indeed be paradise (perhaps even akin to the Kingdom of the Heavens, as the gospel of Matthew talks about). I return to my home with fresh eyes and ears, hoping to be more conscious of my surroundings and my intended interaction with them.

Sunset on the artificial reef at Kiptopeke State Park on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, a place that has become an annual time to retreat and reconnect with the family after being scattered and distracted during the school year

I attended the Virginia Mennonite Conference assembly, the theme of which was "See the signs of God's Kingdom among us"....this was my favorite sign

The MCC Finger Lakes bike ride logo on our complimentary t-shirts

Soufrana Elistin, a Hatian woman, receiving seedlings as part of the MCC reforestation and environmental education programs that we raised over $50k for during our five day ride. Her quote on the back reads, "These trees are our lives. They allow us to eat and make a living and send our kids to school." Soufrana rode with us in our jersey pockets as we cycled over 250 miles in tree-abundant upstate NY

Seneca Lake, one of the Finger Lakes, all of which were carved into the land by glaciers

One of our camp sites...I have definitely become fond of evergreens and wildflowers on the side of the road 

Seneca Falls, a historic town for the women's rights movement

Stopping for a refreshment and directions while on a detour

My first set of business cards....dental appointment cards adapted to represent the student initiated and led interprofessional outreach organization at a summit of 43 national leaders in the health professions who are passionate about cross-disciplinary collaboration to address oral health disparities in our country

Article response to a conference sponsored by the Christian Medical and Dental Association:

“Get up,” Jesus told him, “pick up your mat and walk!” I sat awe-stricken as the story continued to be read at a weeknight prayer meeting, imagining what it would be like to receive these words from the Messiah and at the same time hearing the Spirit echoing exactly this address into my own heart. Revisiting the story of Jesus’ third miracle, according to the gospel of John, after attending this year’s Emerging Leaders in Dentistry (ELD) Symposium has allowed me to continue reflecting on the abundant words of wisdom and life experiences that were shared at the meeting. The story of Jesus’ radical healing encourages me to apply what I heard and saw at the symposium to my life as a disciple of Christ, dental student, and future oral healthcare professional. I’ll review several moments from the symposium that caught my attention and will try to convey how I’ve been inspired by the above-mentioned gospel story to apply those snippets.

A foundation for the symposium was quickly established when Dr. DeWitt Wilkerson challenged us to transition from thinking about success towards striving for significance. He reminded us that God seeks those that are available, not necessarily those that are capable to do His work. Dr. Wilkerson encouraged us, in considering the trajectory of our career paths, to use strategic planning, asking ourselves the question, “What would things be like if they were the best they could be?” and then taking action to get there, as apposed to using the mundane past-present-future projections of long-term planning. Dr. Peter Dawson demonstrated how to verbalize genuine patient-centered care by recommending that we use phrases like “Help me understand your concerns” and “Let me help you understand.” The symposium then took on the role of a summons, as we were stretched to consider how to more fully merge vocation with ministry as Christian dentists. Captain Michael Marks aptly noted during a dentist panel discussion, “Ships are safe in a harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.” Ms. Joan Forrest, inviting us to intentional life and practice, suggested, “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there.” Dr. John Hall’s Sunday morning message challenged us to admit that “dentistry is a key,” pushing us to consider, “Which lock will we use it to open?” Being somewhat facetious but truthfully direct, he offered 3 items of advice on how to “ruin your life and miss your calling”: 1) pursue the American Dream (disregarding God’s purposes), 2) be unequally yoked (with a life-partner who is hesitant to pursue God’s will), and 3) continue listening to truth without acting on it (becoming progressively more calloused). Interacting with a diverse group of students, dentists, and other healthcare professionals during meals and throughout the symposium deepened the words that we heard and helped put life into the concepts that were presented. The three brief days left us all looking forward to returning with other colleagues for the following year’s symposium.

Now if we return to the five colonnades of the pool in Jerusalem called Bethesda, we would see a man lying on his mat amidst a debilitated crowd. Perhaps some of us would even recognize a part of ourselves in this person.  As for many of the others, his life has been reduced to a restrained existence, likely dominated by the expectation to receive his next provision, necessary for the continuation of life as he knows it. A mutual longing for liberation hangs in the air around these pools. Juxtaposing such hope, a rival tension is felt.  Healing is seemingly scarce, offered to those who faithfully wait for the angel’s descent into the pool. Waiting and recognizing the stirring water is not enough; one must be swift enough to reach it first. This particular sick man has been there for 38 years! He ardently waits for his turn to experience the healing stir of the waters, which he earnestly believes will free him from his confining ailment. He must look patiently content, though, since Jesus approaches him asking, “Do you want to get well?” Perhaps justifying the excuse that he has accepted as reality, the sick man responds to Jesus by explaining that he does not have someone to help him reach the stirring water before another takes advantage of its healing power. Here, Jesus doesn’t move to a more optimistic cripple or rebuke him of his doubt in God’s abundant and unlimited healing potential; neither does He offer advice for finally succeeding in the plan he may have depended on for nearly four decades. Jesus simply commands him into healed action: “Get up,” Jesus told him, “pick up your mat and walk!” The Messiah doesn’t just allow him to leave his mat healed to do what he pleases; Jesus tells him to pick up the mat he’s lied on for 38 years and walk with it, a controversial thing to do on the Sabbath, mind you. The sick man doesn’t contend with Jesus, offering his latest plan for reaching the stirring water first. Nor does he refuse to accept the charge of walking with his mat, which is likely mangled and soiled from long-term use. He must not have thought twice about Jesus’ words because we read, Instantly the man got well, picked up his mat, and started to walk. The gospel story goes on to tell of how Jesus was challenged by the pious Jews for healing on the Sabbath, and we don’t know what became of our healed friend, except that Jesus told him to sin no more. Perhaps he was given the liberty to develop an abundant life in his own creativity, springing forth from his healing encounter with Christ.

I will close by sharing a few questions that I’ve considered in thinking about being such a mat-ridden cripple, while trying to sort through highlights from the ELD Symposium: What has developed into a comfortable mat for me, whether or not I realize its confining nature? Do I gravitate towards a company of people that are also seeking healing into a more abundant life? How well-developed is my plan for retiring or moving off from the mat and how does this oppose the ability of God to act through me on His own terms? Whose additional action do I expect to catalyze my healing, and what hindering excuses result of such expectations? How will or do I react to Christ’s radical call to healed action? Am I willing to be ridiculed or even rebuked for carrying a burden that is seemingly meant for my stationary comfort? Jesus challenged His disciples, according to Luke’s gospel, that “Much will be required for everyone who has been given much. And even more will be expected of the one who has been entrusted more,” but we are also comforted by what the gospel of Matthew recorded from Jesus’ address to the crowd: “Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. All of you, take up My yoke and learn from Me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for yourselves. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Accepting how the Spirit has chosen to speak to me through the ELD symposium, I resolve to be grateful for the blessed burden of a career in dentistry, as well as the burden of the gospel; but most of all, I am grateful that I may commit both, as I commit my life as a whole, to the One who Paul recognized “is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us.”

Shoreline pebble-seeking is always such a fun endeavor--you never know quite what will catch your eye and end up in your hand! Isn't that how much of our life comes together? : )

It's been a privilege to work in design team exercises with national healthcare leaders  to brainstorm how to incorporate oral health into interprofessional education and clinical practice. It is inspiring to consider developing a future contributing to such a strong collaborative network of diverse experts.