“I’m a nurse, not a teacher,” I declared.

I didn’t know much about nursing before I started nursing school, but from my first clinical, I knew I had found my calling. While my classmates struggled with the sights and scents of sickness, I mostly took delight in the simple pleasure of caring for people who couldn’t care for themselves. Whether braiding hair for my patient in the nursing home or managing drains and tubes for patients in the hospital, I found joy and purpose in my work. I knew I was meant for nursing.

A few years later, I was serving on the Fulani project in Central Africa. The position I had accepted was titled “Health Educator.” I envisioned myself running a health education program in the community and gaining experience in the local mission hospital. When my supervisor approached me about helping with an after-school program for local elementary and high-school children, I declined. “I’m a nurse, not a teacher,” I replied.

However, the hospital proved difficult for me to integrate into, and there were no existing community health education programs. Occasionally, I would hear a still, small voice nudging me toward getting involved in the children’s program. Being homeschooled for most of my life, I didn’t know what to do with a bunch of children. They intimidated me. I didn’t know what to teach. Besides, someone else was in charge of that now.

Maybe I can help out with a health or science class now and then, I thought.

A month into the school year, my friend was doing the children’s program and had to leave. Who would take over? As much as I tried to squirm my way out of the position, the options narrowed down to, essentially, me. Conviction pressing upon my heart, I accepted.

“But I’m a nurse, not a teacher,” I cautioned.

I felt exceptionally unqualified. I had taught Sabbath school before but didn’t know anything about lesson planning or classroom management. My craft supplies were limited to blank white paper and a disintegrating plastic bag of crayons.

And somehow, I would have to keep the students organized. The program wasn’t open to just any children, so I would have to figure out who was who. But they looked so similar, and I couldn’t speak their language.

The high school students were a bit easier. They could speak French, which I was learning. Little by little, we learned to understand each other.
“Maitresse,” I would hear, knowing they were addressing me. Like it or not, I had become a teacher, after all.

Little by little, the children worked their way into my heart. I still can’t tell you exactly how it happened, but it probably had something to do with a few deep conversations, shared meals with the teenagers and lots of smiles from the younger students.

I remember the first day I handed out dusty paper and handfuls of broken crayons. The smiles on their faces didn’t require translation. They were elated.

Sometimes children stayed after class so that I could help them with their English homework or because they wanted to ask more questions about the Bible. One day, a young girl asked me to help her learn how to read and write because she was having a hard time in school. I had never taught someone how to read, and my French spelling wasn’t that great. (Even as I write, I still have so many questions.) Yet, I would do whatever I could to encourage her to continue her schooling, especially since girls face so many obstacles in finishing their education in this part of the world.

So now I was a nurse and a teacher. When my students were sick, I took them to the hospital and helped them get the necessary lab tests and medicines. Sometimes, they would bring their parents or siblings in to get treated. In a society where people often first go to traditional bone-setters or witch doctors, getting them to the hospital for their medical needs was a huge step forward. But the opportunity to help with these health needs came after I answered God’s call to teach.

Nurse. Teacher. Missionary. Most of all, I was a conduit of God’s love to His suffering children who don’t know Him very well. And that is what I want to do for the rest of my earthly life.

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