Today our team went to the Government Hospital. We passed out bread, cheese and water to the mothers and sat with the children and got to know their stories. Some of these women are in the hospital up to three weeks (sometimes longer depending on the circumstance) and unless they leave their children they are unable to get food for themselves.
The night before we went to the hospital I was extremely anxious and (as hard as it is for me to admit) scared of how I would respond to walking into the hospital again after my experience there last time. My roommate wrote me a letter the night before I went to the hospital and said to me, “It’s okay to be devastated. But, don’t you dare let a single callous form on your heart. It’s a survival tactic for you, but a death sentence for those babies. Have God’s heart…and let his strength carry you through it.” But, I did not want my experience there to cloud my vision of what I was supposed to see today. I wanted the faces and circumstances of the children and women in the room to be my concern. But…inevitably I knew emotions would come back from my time with Allie. As much as it hurts to truly allow myself to feel…she has shaped who I am in a deeply profound way, but not at the expense of being able to be there for others in that hospital…it only strengthened my understanding.
I’ve said this before…I’ll say it again…it is not…it is NOT okay that children die because they do not have enough food. It is NOT okay that children die of diarrhea. It is NOT okay that children are dying because they have malaria or a “cold” or any other disease that can be cured in the United States at the snap of a finger.
Seven months ago I walked in to this hospital and my heart was shattered. Walking in again there were a new set of stories that needed to be told. When you think your heart can’t be broken anymore…your hurt grows deeper. Last time I held child after child, but this time, for whatever reason...I felt God telling me to focus on the mothers. I still held babies burning with fever and writhing in pain from malnutrition, but I wanted to emphasize to the mothers their importance. Our team sat with them, asked them how they were doing and offering to pray for them if we could. I really wanted my words to convey to them how strong and courageous they were for standing by their child and taking care of them in their time of need. How easy it would be to just give up and leave. The fight seems too grave. I wanted them to know that they were loved and thought about as well. These people are forgotten. I wanted them to know…that we know. If you saw this hospital…you would say the same thing. They need someone…they need YOU…to fight for them!
In June our team had gone to the ICU, where I met Allie, but because things in there are rather hectic, Erica decided our large team should try to stay out of their way and serve the other rooms instead. But, as our team was nearing the end of our time there I looked over at the nurse’s station and locked eyes with one of the nurses. She got the hugest smile on her face and we both ran over to one another. She said, “You were with baby Allie so many months ago.” I nodded speechless. “You remember me??” “Of course I do,” she replied, “You loved her and cared for her. You loved her as your own. But we lost her.” Chills came over my body and I asked her if any of the other nurses I was with were there. She took my hand and took me back to the room where baby Allie changed my life 7 months ago. I saw the security guard who helped me while I was there and he remembered me too. Chills continued to cover my body as I walked with Monito, hand in hand. As I walked back into the room where the team was still visiting with patients, a woman and a severely malnourished little boy followed me into the room and asked the security guard if they could speak to me. The little boy was 4 and his mother had passed away. The woman had traveled from fifteen miles outside of Freetown to get this little baby treatment. You could see every bone in this child’s body. Every rib, vertebrae, every bone down to his pelvic girdle…he was a miniature walking skeleton. Erica gave them money to help get food while they waited for the doctors to see them, but before I walked away I asked the little boy’s name and the woman looked me in the eye and said, “Ali.” I’d like to say I immediately broke down crying but more than anything I was frozen. I placed my arm on the woman and asked, “May I pray for you and Ali?” I don’t think I’ve ever prayed such strong words over someone. I don’t think I’ve prayed such words over anyone as I prayed over these mothers, grandmothers, fathers, and children.
We have no concept of what it is like to go without. We have no concept of what it feels like to function around poverty like this. I cannot even presume to know the suffering and heartache that these people endure.
Each of us has brokenness. We have each experienced things in life that have hurt us deeply. All of those things shape who we are positively or negatively. And we each have a choice in how we respond to the difficult situations in life that we are faced with. We’ve each had to allow God to carry us through suffering. But I think we view our suffering in the U.S. a bit backwards.
I guess what I’m saying is…we all have callouses on our hearts. But what I see a lot is, that we never allow ourselves to feel the emotions enough to truly heal from something…to truly move beyond whatever tribulations we encounter. I think often times we spend so much of our lives getting over whatever tribulation we’re encountering that we put on our tunnel vision and only focus on ourselves. We cover our hearts with so many callouses we never have room to let someone else in…or…serve someone else who truly needs it. I don’t mean to be rude when I say this and I’m CERTAINLY speaking to myself as well…but…get over it! We need to stop letting our hearts be calloused and holding us hostage from being a stronghold to the world around us. Because these people need us! They need our brokenness. They need our hearts to be softened to remember that they are there and need our help! We need to get over ourselves.
I saw calloused hearts in the eyes of so many today that truly need us! Calloused hearts of desperation. Their eyes are glazed over, void of any emotion. How else do you cope while helplessly watching your child die?
I only hope they heard a word today from one of the 25 people in that room…to know that there is a God who knows and loves them. There are people who know about them and are willing to fight. Our team shirts say, “I will fight…for the one who is exploited, broken, trafficked, abandoned, stolen, abused, forgotten, orphaned…we will win.” We. Will. Win. These mothers need to know that they are known and someone is fighting on their side. Someone who says...this is NOT right! And, we will NOT be defeated.
When I sat with Allie 7 months ago, I quietly whispered in her ear describing the world she had awaiting her. All of the beautiful things she had yet to taste, feel and see. I prayed those words over every child I saw today. Because, it’s true…each life has a story to tell and “where you live shouldn’t determine whether you live” (Bono.) Know that the same is true for you…you have a story to tell through and in the midst of your brokenness. But where we live shouldn’t determine whether we only care about ourselves. I’ll leave you with the words to the song I sang that day to Allie…and know these words are true for all of us…and have the ability to move us to action to make a difference in a world that so desperately needs us to fight for the forgotten…
“Our God is Greater, our God is stronger, God you are higher than any other. Our God is HEALER awesome in power, our God…our God. And if our God is for us, then who could ever stop us and if our God is with us…then what could stand against?!” What could stand against us? Our own calloused hearts?
Praying my heart would be Softened,
Reg
P.S. I have to say, it was so beautiful and a privilege to watch such a large team experience this together today. It was an honor serving side by side with such a strong team! Almost 15 more people have now tasted and seen this crime against humanity and can go home to tell the stories of the forgotten.
I'm glad through it all that God is there to help us heal. Thanks for being willing to walk through the pain and push it aside to see the Glory of God. Behind the clouds is always the Son!
ReplyDeleteI find it hard to know what to say other than 'yes'. Yes my heart is suseptible to callousing, yes that hardening is indicative of human weakness and not God's strength. Yes, that's a sign of apathy not empathy, of neglect not intimacy, arrogance rather than humility, and resignation over action. Yes, partnering with God against injustice requires us to be soft, malleable and willing to hurt alongside others, and offer the hope of God amidst the brokenness of humanity.
ReplyDeleteI think that I'm much too likely to glibbly push pain aside rather than acknowledge it and allow Christ to bring healing out of it. In the West we are too quick to occupy self-pity the extremes: either we wallow in our own brokenness or we ignore it, push it under the rug. But by doing so we fail to recognize that our God came into the mess of this world to deal with the reality of life, with all the social decay and political corruption, to engage with it, to FIGHT it, battle it and WIN!!