Malawi Med Miracle 2024
July 30, 2025
Matthew 10:26-27
"For nothing is covered that will not be revealed or hidden that will not be known...What I tell You in the dark, say it in the light, and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the Mountaintops."
Jenni's Story
Our team had experienced God’s miraculous hand many times in years past, but this night would leave us all in awe ….
It was the last full day of surgery and it had been a very chaotic week full of Satan’s arrows in our direction. But, the night before our Lipscomb team had been on our knees praying earnestly that God would break through and His light would overpower all of the darkness in a very powerful and undeniable way. I was stuck on the other side of the hospital with a critically ill patient that required a continuous medication drip and monitoring, but was aware that there was a mother in labor that had been struggling for quite some time. I knew a code had been called on the baby, as I saw anesthesia providers running in and out of the OR/PACU area grabbing airway supplies and emergency medications. The code went on for what seemed like a very long time and then ceased. It was a very somber time as so many had been in the care of this precious mom throughout the day and had been praying continually for her and her child.
When I was finally able to transfer care of my patient, I went to the other side where the mother was with her baby that had passed. Knowing that there would be several of her family still around the bassinet, I stayed right outside the door of the room. I prayed a very simple but direct prayer that God would restore the life of that child and that many would turn and believe as He received all the glory. I then walked to dinner; it was very late and it was just me and one other in the cafeteria. As soon as I sat down with my plate, before I had even taken one bite, Lauren came loudly busting through the cafeteria door yelling for the team to come back quickly. I immediately knew. God had answered and that precious baby girl was alive and well.
We, as Christ’s anointed followers, are promised the same power (dunamis, Luke 8:46) that Jesus had while on earth in Acts 1:8 through the filling of the Holy Spirit. The same word for power is used in both of these passages, meaning ‘activated, miraculous power.’ Jesus tells us this also in John 14:12. God is the same today as He has always been. He is no less powerful, no less holy, no less active now than He was in biblical times. He is unable to change, for He is perfect. To God be all the glory.
Laurie's Story
The day started with surgeries that presented incredible challenges of all the teams and while we were busy, we had several mom’s laboring in the maternity ward. Many of the nursing students had gone to be a part of the process of labor and of course the miracle of birth. I’m not certain anyone would have believed what was to come….
A little after dinner time, all surgeries had finished for the day, and a call was made to the Recovery Room for assistance in the Maternity Ward. I arrived with a bag of resuscitative medicines with the nursing crew and staff standing around the newborn crib applying CPR and oxygen to a precious newborn girl. Upon arrival we decided to insert a breathing airway and provide some additional medicines in hopes to that this baby would begin to breathe on its own. This went on for a little over 30 minutes.
At this point the room became increasingly sad, the infant wasn’t making alot of effort and knowing access to care would be painfully limited we had to make the painful decision to withdraw care. We removed our breathing device and stopped CPR.
I will never forget walking out of that room with the mother sobbing and a room full of Malawian women especially sweet Basant beginning to pray 50 Psalms at the foot of the Bassinet….We covered the infant in respect of the mother and left.
During that time most all of us were either praying, crying, or just mourning the sadness of the day. For me it was the visual of seeing a child dying. It’s an image that is so poignant and impactful. A life of God’s making, one taken so soon…..
Approximately 50 minutes passed, and we were called to come assess the baby. As we walked in, we saw a large group of Malawian women, all praying for the complete healing of this precious girl. Every woman standing there believed completely that this infant would be raised, not one doubted! Their prayers were intentional and unfailing. They were the prayers of complete faith!
No words can describe what happened next. This was a miracle like nothing any of us had ever seen. Before our eyes was a beautiful baby girl, cooing and suckling, very pink and very much alive. She was grabbing her fingers and making the most precious of baby sounds.
I had read the story of Lazarus all of my life, a story ingrained in my memory and so much a part of my relationship with Jesus. Never have I doubted the validity of such an incredible miracle in God’s name. But on this day, it became a miracle present day!! A life gone but by the sweet precious souls whose faith was unwavering, this child was resurrected, her purpose a wide-open book and her miracle a story for all of us present, to tell to the masses!
I have often said, why was I selected to be so intimately involved in one of the most precious and incredible miracles, why??
Through much self-reflection I know many of those present had faith much like Paul, infallible and unwavering! And then you have doubting Thomas, a follower who believed, but often doubted. This is why God presented such a life changing moment and challenged each of us present to make sure we shared, God is ever present, he but awaits for us to call and believe, it’s very simple, BELIEVE!
Lauren's Story
It was Thursday evening, and the surgery day was nearly over, the last patient of the day was finishing recovery. I was sitting at the nurse’s station, enjoying the peaceful silence of another, successful surgery day winding down. I heard footsteps coming from the direction of the ward and look up to see Michele with a look of worry on her face. I asked if everything was okay and she says “I do not know, there is a baby in distress. Just say a prayer for those in the room.”
The ER nurse in me is not good at just sitting by and hoping for the best, so I immediately hopped up from my chair and ran down to the labor ward. When I walked in, to my left, I saw the midwife and a student in the labor room with the mother that had just given birth. I looked straight ahead to the isolette and saw one of the doctors listening to the newborn infant with his stethoscope. I walked over to the isolette and noticed the baby was barely breathing and appeared limp. I attempted to stimulate the baby and got no response. I felt for a pulse and felt a very slow, weak pulse. I immediately began doing compressions on the infant. I asked the nearby staff what time the baby was born so I could get an idea of how long she had been essentially unresponsive. I remember looking at my watch after I was told the time of her birth and thinking to myself “that 15 minutes of this infant barely perfusing any oxygen to her brain will be detrimental to her.” I continued doing compressions on her, I asked someone nearby to please get more help and to bring oxygen tanks. A few minutes later, I was surrounded by our CRNA’s, doctors and nurses. The newborn was still not responding to compressions, her pupils were fixed and not responsive. I knew in my heart that this child was not going to survive, but I did not want to accept it.
Nearly 40 minutes into our resuscitation efforts, as a team, we made the determination that the infant was still not responding and that the baby’s mother had to make a decision that no parent should ever have to make. Our Malawian physician had the impossible conversation with her mother to decide whether she wanted us to continue our efforts to try to revive her baby or to cease and allow her to pass. She made the decision for us to stop compressions. In that moment when I had to take my hands off this child that had only just entered the world and allow her to die, I felt so angry and confused. As an ER nurse, I have run many codes on infants and children, but this one felt so different. It hurt so much more. It was so much harder to stop resuscitation and accept what felt like defeat.
The blanket that was going to be used to swaddle this mother’s beautiful newborn baby while she admired and embraced her newest blessing from God, was now swaddling her baby while she was taking her last breaths. I just stared at her lifeless body while she guppy-breathed every minute or so, with tears streaming down my face. I felt like I could not look away from her and that I could not leave her alone.
John, our chaplain for the trip and a close family friend of mine, came to the isolette and prayed over this child asking that God would accept her with open arms if it was His will that she leaves this earth so soon. John encouraged that I take a break from being at the bedside and go outside to get some fresh air. Reluctantly I did, knowing it was probably for the best.
I walked towards Chewa house and found Kristina, another nurse, and her husband Scott, our general surgeon, sitting on the stairs to the Wi-Fi hut. I walked to them and began to weep. Through my frustration and tears, I began venting the feelings and emotions I was experiencing. I explained how I felt like such a black cloud. During my last trip to Malawi, I was also apart of a patients care that didn’t have the outcome that we had hoped for. At this point, the enemy was really grabbing a hold of me and trying to not let go and I was allowing it. Was I truly making a difference in Malawi? Was I truly helping this community that so desperately needs these services we are helping provide? Would it have been better if I were not a part of this surgical team? I experience death and tragedy almost daily in my career but was that supposed to follow me halfway across the world on this mission trip? These were just a few of the questions that I was asking myself.
It was so hard coming to terms with the lack of resources that are available in Malawi. I mean just a few days prior, in Alabama, I had access to almost everything imaginable I could need to revive an infant. It makes it easier to tell myself and my team of coworkers “we did everything we could do to try to save this person, and we utilized every resource available.” In Malawi, we do not get the pleasure of using that statement as a means of comfort and reassurance. I constantly think to myself, “if I were in my hospital…” and fill in the blank with whatever I can imagine.
As I continued to battle all of these thoughts and feelings on those stairs, a sweet lab student walks up to us and says, “I just left the labor ward and the baby is breathing.” I just kind of shook my head and said “yeah, she was ‘breathing’ when I left too but it’s just a matter of time before that stops.” After she walked off, I just thought to myself that the student just doesn’t understand that this baby will not survive. She just doesn’t understand that I’ve seen countless people guppy breathe until they finally take their last breath. She thought she was giving me hope and while I wanted to be grateful for the thought of potential hope that this baby was going to live, I wasn’t grateful. My anger had the best of me at this point and I was already taking it out on those trying to be supportive. I knew, in my medically trained brain, that this baby was brain dead regardless of these “breaths” she was taking. She went without oxygen for too long. There was no more hope for recovery, especially in a country with virtually no resources for her. I continued to mull over different scenarios- even if she did survive, what would her quality of life look like? Would she be mentally and physically handicapped? Does Malawi even have the resources for a child that was disabled? Does her mother have the support and resources, herself, to care for a disabled child? My anger towards the situation just continued.
A few minutes later another person walked up to us on the stairs. This time it was Laurie, one of the CRNA’s that was working this code with me. She said “Lauren, she really is breathing! She is crying and breathing! You have to come see her, it’s unbelievable!” I thought to myself, okay, I know that she just witnessed everything I did- how could this even be possible? I still doubted the power of the Lord.
We walked back into the labor ward; I saw many people surrounding the isolette. As I approached it, I saw for myself the miracle that lie in the isolette. This miracle child was, in fact, crying and moving and breathing all on her own. She was connected to a cardiac monitor that was showing me PERFECT vital signs. How? How was this even possible? We left this infant lying in this isolette with no oxygen, no medications, nothing at all so that she could pass naturally at her mother’s request. Now she is lying in that same isolette, full of life as is if I hadn’t just been manually pumping the blood through her tiny body with my own hands. I’m seeing it all with my own two eyes and yet I was still in absolute disbelief!
I just stood and stared, taking all of this in for what felt like a lifetime. To this day, over a year later, it is all almost too much for my mind to comprehend. The fact that I was a part of a miracle that God himself performed and I could see it and feel it still leaves me speechless. I have been in the medical field, providing bedside care for people for 8 years, 4 and a half of those years being as a nurse in the ER. In those 8 years, I have never witnessed an outcome as miraculous as this.
Her mother was undeniably in shock, that her baby was doing so well but continued to thank all of us in the room over and over. I have never felt so undeserving of a thank you. I had lost all hope and faith that something of this magnitude could ever happen, let alone that I would be a part of it. While I may have initiated resuscitation efforts, this was all God. No human or human-made machine could ever do or mimic what happened in that labor ward that night. Her mother told me her name was to be Alinane, meaning “God is with me.” I’ll just let that speak for itself.
This was a story I could not wait to share with my family, friends and coworkers when I made it back home. A story I knew many would find hard to understand or believe without experiencing it first-hand. But I knew this was meant to be shared, help me connect with others and share the impact missions in Malawi has made in my life. Over the last year, I’ve had a longing feeling of wanting to know if Alinane had made a full recovery and if she was alive. I think I had accepted that it was God’s plan that I never know; that her purpose in my life was to only be a part of what happened in the labor ward that night. That night would have a tremendous impact on my walk with Christ. But man was I proven wrong again. I was recently tagged in a post made by Laurie, sharing the story and photos of Alinane- now a little over a year old. She is living a normal, healthy life with no apparent residual deficits. All I could do was cry when I saw her precious face smiling in these photos. Oh, how great is our God!
Reliving this experience and putting it into writing has really made me reflect on my walk with Christ and where I stand in my faith. So, I feel like I have to get pretty vulnerable and be honest with myself and others that may read my words. I grew up in church my entire life, going nearly every Sunday and most Wednesdays. I have always considered myself a believer in Christ for as long as I can remember. I went to a very small Christian school until 8th grade, where learning and reciting chapters of the bible were used for a test grade. I learned and heard about the many miracles that were performed by Jesus and people risen from the dead during bible times- of course, I believed these things happened back then but never really thought they were things that would ever happen in modern day. At roughly the age of 8 is when I publicly gave my life to Christ and was baptized at the church we were attending at the time. I continued going to church with my family, at various churches, over the years until I got to college at the end of 2016. I moved to Montgomery and lived with my disabled grandmother while I went to AUM. During this time, I made lots of excuses for myself as to why I wasn’t attending church anymore. The church I had been going to for a while was just too far away now. There weren’t any churches in Montgomery I wanted to attend- even though I hadn’t even visited a single one. I was too busy with work and school; I just didn’t have time. I was tired and I needed to study for nursing school. I was also in relationships that were leading me in the opposite direction. I didn’t really know how to have a relationship with God.
My whole life I never felt very connected with my faith and a lot of times I still feel like I’m not. I never felt like I had a real testimony of faith to share. I didn’t come from a terrible family or have to overcome some kind of adversity that “led me to Christ.” I’ve never felt like I had a story to share or a way to connect with others through Christ. Sure, I have my own challenges in life but they seem so minute compared to others; “nothing worth sharing” I told myself.
I thought I was going to this underprivileged country to provide medical care for people that didn’t have access to it, and we absolutely did do that. What I didn’t know was that the community that Blessings Hospital serves was going to provide a spiritual awakening for me. Sunday before surgery week, we worshipped at Flood Church in Lilongwe and I cried nearly the entire service. I have never felt so moved by a church as a whole. I don’t even think I had ever cried during a church service before. I never knew I could feel the presence of God the way I did that morning. I was surrounded by so many people that had a burning passion to serve our maker and to serve others. The coming week of surgeries would just continue to show me that God had placed every single person I came in contact with there for a reason.
So many lives were changed during that week, mine included. The week was not full of just “sunshine and butterflies,” we faced many challenges and had some heart-breaking cases. This trip left me wanting more. I couldn’t wait to return to Malawi and bring more friends with me on the next trip. Almost as soon as I got back home, I was figuring out when I could go back to Malawi. A place that, before, I thought had so little, provided me with so much- spiritually, mentally and emotionally. My heart was so full, I never imagined my second trip would fill my heart even more.
In the 21st century, it seems as if everything is readily available at the push of a button; at least in the USA, it is.
I believe that I felt God’s presence so strongly in Malawi because there weren’t many distractions; there wasn’t convenience; every human want and need wasn’t within reach or could be with just a few taps on a screen. Faith in God WAS present though; I could see it, hear it and feel it. I could see it on the faces of this community and nearly everyone that walked into Blessings Hospital. I could hear it in their prayers. I could feel it in their warm embrace. If these people, who have so little, could so easily trust that God is going to provide and care for them, why can’t I? Why do I have such a hard time growing in my faith and casting all my worries, fears and doubts on Him? I live a life of privilege, endless opportunity and I have more than I could ever need and I still don’t give God the credit, thanks and praise He deserves and demands all of the time. Everything I know and have in life could all be gone in an instant; then would I give him all the credit and praise He deserves only because I want it all back, would I question Him and His divine authority, or would I trust that He has a bigger plan?
While reflecting on this event, I keep hearing in my mind “oh ye of little faith” from the passage in Matthew 8. Jesus performed miracle after miracle on lepers, the sick and the possessed. He healed people with just a touch of his hand and cast out demons with His words, all because of faith. His disciples were able to witness these miracles first hand and still lacked faith that Jesus could calm the violent seas with just His presence. I have found myself in the position of the disciples. I had no faith that something such as this was truly possible. I guess seeing was believing for me; and I hate to admit that. Even now, over a year later, I still find it hard to allow myself to truly let go of myself and my thoughts and completely trust that any miracle is possible through the power of Christ. It’s so easy to tell myself that this was just a once in a lifetime thing; and who knows- maybe it was. But I still witnessed a miracle, just as each of Jesus’ disciples did. How blessed and honored I feel to have been a part of this; but I also feel ashamed that it took an infant essentially dying and coming back to life for me to believe in miracles and the power of God. I am still not confident in my ability to share Christ with others. I allow fear and anxiety to hinder me. I fail every day. I sin every day. I let my human nature get the best of me every single day. I ask myself almost daily, “Why is it so hard for me to let go of my own wants, needs and desires and to just let God have full control of my mind, body and spirit?.”
I am so grateful that I have had the opportunity to serve in Malawi. I know that God has provided me with these opportunities to use them as a stepping stone to share with others just what He can do in our lives. I know He has a purpose for me. He has shown me what faith in Him can do. He still performs miracles, even in the 21st century.
Dear Lord, use me as a light so that others may see You. May this miracle I have witnessed be used and seen as hope unto others that Your power is as real today as it was when Jesus walked this earth. I pray for the strength and courage to have conversations with others about You. I pray You ease my anxiety and give me the courage to overcome my fears so that I don’t hinder myself from spreading the word of Your goodness, mercy and grace. Forgive me for where I fail you every single day.
Amen.
Not a Trip
Category: Student Life