dawn: adventures of a journeywoman

The beautiful Mount Rainier (the only clear day I was able to see it during my entire month in Seattle)


It has been eight weeks since returning back to the U.S. from an invigorating and challenging trip to Kenya. I returned to a place in the midst of autumn (and celebrated with a pumpkin spice latté in the baggage claim area). The season of change was further emphasized by my living situation. With the knowledge of my travels, my roommates and I had sub-letted my room out for an uninterrupted 4 months. But my mentor and her family instantly stepped in and offered their basement bedroom for the month, in exchange for giving them a date night at least once a week.

What I found in this house was more than a bed to sleep in. I found a family with two cherished sons, full of life and ways to warm my heart and make me laugh. Two-year old Timothy once announced as I walked in the door, “There’s Miss Dawn! She’s not a monster!” Glad to have that distinction, I also welcomed Timothy’s cuddling company on my lap as I ate my cereal in the morning and hugs as I left for the hospital. Caleb, who just started kindergarten this year, when finding out I was celebrating my birthday said, “Miss Dawn, for your birthday I’m going to find one of my toy cars that I don’t like and don’t use anymore and give it to you.” Ah, the honesty of a five-year old just discovering re-gifting. Over a meal one day, I was telling the story of an angry policewoman and Caleb responded with a novel idea: “I know what we should do. We should make one, no two! signs for our front and back doors. They will say, ‘Nice boys and girls live here.’” Though not quite sure that would be the best idea in a transitional neighborhood with questionable white vans unloading supplies in the area, I enjoyed his innocent response to the antogistic world.

My mentor and her husband (Randy and Gretchen) did not just openly share their children, but their meals, their homes, and their lives. I have been meeting with Gretchen (a nephrologist, or physician specialized in disorders of the kidneys) about every month for almost 3 years. We began getting together at a local coffee shop (they way most singles in their 20s prefer to gather), but soon realized that for her stage of life the best mentoring could happen if I was a part of the family dinner, bath time, and story time. Afterwards, the two of us were able to discuss and pray (quietly so as not to wake the little ones) about where we were struggling, share praises over answered prayers, and question places we were being led. The wisdom God has given Gretchen in her walk of being a Christian woman physician who is married with a family (not as easy as it may sound!) was wonderful as she was able to speak truth into places she had been that I currently found myself in the midst of experiencing.

Living with Gretchen and her family took our mentoring relationship to a whole new level. I saw her for two weeks on call as her husband had hot meals waiting for her and never expressed jealousy for medicine when she was paged in the middle of a conversation. I saw Gretchen being intentionally involved in her sons’ schooling-both academic and spiritual. I saw the way Randy took Gretchen alone to an art gallery on a Saturday afternoon as a part of keeping their relationship alive and fresh. Observing and noting these examples spoke just as, if not more, to me as a mentee.

After a short four weeks in Washington, DC it was time to venture to the other American coast. A major focus of the fourth year of medical school is to discern the next step in my training. For me, that is a four-year residency in obstetrics and gynecology. A common method in the last year of medical school is to do an “away elective,” where a student spends a four weeks rotating at another hospital. I settled on a gynecologic oncology rotation at University of Washington in Seattle for the month of November. The physicians in this field have a reputation for being intense, with little patience and high expectations for those with whom they work. The Seattle weather (especially in November) is known for the abundance of dark, grey days and the noticeable absence of sunlight. In addition, I did not actually know anyone currently living in Seattle. Getting on the plane to Seattle felt a bit like jumping out of a plane without a parachute. I questioned what I was getting myself into.

One of my DC roommates has family in Seattle. Her older sister, Jenny, is an Ob-gyn and offered to send out my housing plea to a Christian medical listserve. While in Kenya, I heard from a couple in Seattle that was offering me “cheery” room within walking distance of the University of Washington Medical Center. I took them up on the offer over e-mail, but quickly discovered how perfect the arrangement was after meeting in person. Ken and Francie welcomed me with some hot apple crisp, top-quality coffee (hard to miss it in Seattle), and a walking tour accompanied by Niké (the family golden retriever). I quickly felt at home with this couple who previously lived for 20 years in Austria ministering to university students and professors in Austria and former Soviet countries. They currently feel led to reach out to graduate and international students, the artistic community, and professors at the University of Washington. Nightly, we would gather around a warm meal recounting the small and large events of the day, asking deep questions about faith and theology, sharing medical experiences and insights, and encouraging and praying through dreams and callings. Ken and Francie embodied hospitality to me.


Ken, Francie, Niké, and I pose together

On my first day in Seattle, Jenny picked me up and took me to an evening church service infused with truth and conviction. Afterwards, she had arranged a meeting with another student at University of Washington who had recently completed the rotation I was about to embark on the following morning. The two of them shared old textbooks, advice about living in Seattle and surviving my upcoming rotation over famous Iver’s clam chowder (only 75 cents!). The next weekend, Jenny and her family welcomed me to share in a family Halloween party (complete with green spaghetti) and the next day Jenny took me all around the famous sites of Seattle, including the original Starbucks at Pike’s Place, the Space needle, the Freemont troll, and the Mount Rainier vista. I was never allowed the opportunity to feel lonely in Seattle. Once again, I was given the gift of the words and welcome of someone who has already gone through this part of the medical journey with a faith-based perspective.

Through all of this, I feel as if I am in a crash-course on receiving. For someone who is used to having it all together (or at least pretending) and responding to others in need, it feels quite different to be on the other side. To not just open up my palms but to extend my arms outward is a vulnerable position. But I can honestly say that God has never left me in that place for long before pouring down blessings. It takes me aback as I recount all the people who responded to God to be a physical representative of His love to me. I can confess my needs for guidance, housing, and support to an out-of-this-world God who loves me, and He seems to turn around and use my human brothers and sisters answer these needs. What creative and trusting love our God has!

“Dear friends, since God loved us that much, we surely ought to love each other. No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and His love is brought to full expression in us…we love each other because He loved us first.” 1 John 4:11-12, 19