Deogratias Niyizonkiza

This afternoon I listened to an elegant, unassuming Burundian with a rich, deeply complex narrative. He is an individual who has faced massacre, impending murder, constant fear, utter loneliness-and has emerged having wrestled with these demons and overcome. I have an immense respect for this man, Mr. Deogratias Niyizonkiza, whose genuine connection to the spirit of the Matthew A. Carter memorial lecture has taught me the fundamental importance of love, the immense power of focused, wise, and strong compassion, and the fundamental sameness of humanity.

“I never thought that I was poor, because I had parents who taught me that though we (the children) have no food, we have our parents. And they love us.” This statement’s power comes from the simple portrayal of the human need for others’ love. I deeply resonated with this bare truth, because it reminds me of what I hold to be most dear: my mother, my father, and my brother. Love from family and from precious friends is and should be the motivating force behind the efforts to achieve my personal best. The glittering trophies of accomplishment and prestige have an almost irresistible allure, yet they cannot and will not be enough to sustain a lifelong passion. Rivalry, though potent, will ultimately burn out. Love, even of the fallible human sort, seems to be the only thing holding our lives and dreams together.

I believe Deo embodies compassion honed by wisdom, focus, and strength. He is not a hopeless idealist who believes in a one-man crusade. He demonstrates the value of using what gifts we have at our disposal-what relationships, connections, and degrees-towards a uniquely personal passion. While I have to agree with his offhand assessment of him having “jumped the gun” by prematurely departing midway through his medical studies, I deeply admire the powerful desire and genuine concern he showed for his fellow countrymen and women. He inspires me to achieve excellence-to be passionate about achieving what some idealists may deem “unnecessary” credentials-for the sake of leveraging all our blessings for the sake of others.

Finally, he reminded me of a very critical point: that we are all thoroughly human. We are to wallow in that shared experience, to drink it in so fully that no air of arrogance, of presumption, or of self-pride can poison our souls. We did not, and could not, have chosen to be born in a certain nation, at a certain time, to a specific set of parents. Our shared humanity and undeserved blessings instead bring the rich joy and glorious responsibility to bring blessings to others. Thank you, Deo, for showing me what it means to bring healing to those who have lost everything-the emaciated man dying on the dirt floor of a hut, or the child abandoned in the jungle-and, more importantly, for showing me the power of love to restore hope.

*Mr. Deogratias Niyizonkiza was the speaker for the Matthew A. Carter memorial lecture, who after being homeless in NYC as a refugee eventually attended Columbia University, the Harvard School for Public Health, and Dartmouth Medical School. He now is the founder of Village Health Works, a holistic clinic and medical care center in Kigutu, Burundi.

Med school reflections #1

It seems that medical school naturally draws out the sinful tendencies of selfishness. I didn' t quite realize it until recently, but it really promotes the idea that I need to get things done, that I need to make sure I know my stuff, and-at the end of the day-it is my responsibility if I know the material (for the test, or, eventually, for the patient) and are able to manipulate it correctly and in a life-saving manner.
Yet sometimes it does get to be a bit much.
Medical school as an experience has already placed tremendous pressure on my friendships, my relationships with others-even among my newfound friends I find it difficult to make myself available to them in a way that facilitates true bonding-because I'm afraid that I will get behind on my study schedule and lose precious time for-what else?-studying.
Additionally, I realize how my mind is so geared towards absorbing large quantities of information that I don't really question what I'm learning. I just absorb and absorb, I imbibe huge quantities of raw data, sift it to the essential data, and then chew on my streamlined version over and over again. Yet it takes so much out of me! On top of that, I have to integrate the spatial memorization of the human anatomy, with all its strange connection of term memorization and visual identification, with innervations, vasculature, and function thrown into the mix! AND ON TOP OF THAT, Histology with all its lists, its horrendously detailed and complex questions that require you to compartmentalize your mind into the rooms of Bone/Cartilage, Skin, Muscle, and the Immune System.
When do I have time to ask questions?
Why do I feel that my already non-inquisitive mind is being further pounded into submission by this torrent of information?

Why do I fear that I am losing sight of others when I place my studies first?

It's a difficult feeling to have-of guilt, of longing to know someone else-and you simply don't know what others are thinking. It's maddening, in fact, to always be guessing at others' motives, to place up that mask of confidence when underneath you tremble and wince, writhe and rage.
Yet is this all part of human passion? Isn't this part of what we discussed in small group yesterday-that fundamentally men are driven by how others perceive them? Yet how much grace we receive when we can voluntarily give that up? It sounds so easy, right? "BE independent! Don't care about what other people think-just be yourself!"
what empty words! How can one be independent from the world when he is merely cutting himself off-but never truly being able to divorce himself because he lives, breathes, and exists in this inescapable reality?

But we have the transcendental reality of God-more specifically, of Christ. We have the confidence and hope in His promise, in the Word of God, in his Holy Spirit who dwells in our hearts. Who has known the mind of the LORD, or instructed Him as His counselor? Whom did the LORD consult to enlighten Him, and who taught Him the right way? Who was it that taught Him knowledge, or showed Him the path of understanding? (Isaiah 40:13-14)

In small group yesterday we did the Lectio Divina method of reflection on Isaiah 40, and it was deeply rich and insightful for each of us. I believe that God used it to speak clearly into my heart for the agony I would suffer this upcoming few days. Faced with the prospect of such mounds of academic and scientific information, along with the due stress that such impending doom has on my relationships with others-God speaks into my heart: trust not in your own wisdom, nor in the counsel of any other fallible human being. Know that I am the LORD, the everlasting God! I am the source of all wisdom, of all knowledge-give glory and thanks to me while you study, and live with the mind of Christ. 1 Corinthians 2:6-16; esp. verse 16, which references Isaiah! How awesome is that!
"For who has known the mind of the Lord
that he may instruct him?" But we have the mind of Christ.

May I dwell with the mind of Christ firmly in my possession, and not allow stray thoughts to haunt and dog me-and may His wisdom be given to me.