Hospitals, Hope, and Asking God “Why?”

Ever been to a hospital in a Third World country?

Neither had I until this week.

And let me tell you, it’s been a different experience.

After Cedric (you can read about him in my last blog) went into ICU last week with severe pneumonia, things changed drastically in our ministry here. The girls of Team X-Stream and Team Liberators went from caring for little Cedric at the Children’s Home–where he had his own room, crib, bassinet, & plenty of extra hands to help hold him–to a crowded, unairconditoned hospital,

where the air hangs heavy with sickness and death,

where ants crawl all over the cribs, biting the babies whenever they’re not brushed off in time,

where there are not enough rooms, so patients are lining the halls and filling the courtyards,

where the bathrooms are covered with cockroaches and filth,

where medicine isn’t the doctors or nurses responsibility to bring, but yours to go out and get,

where children die daily of common, easily treated conditions, such as asthma.

The first shift I took with Cedric was overwhelming to say the least. I was alone, surrounded by people who mostly spoke Tagalog, in a crowded room with 7 other babies and their mothers, sweating & holding a 2-month-old little boy who had an oxygen tube running to his tiny nose and a peice of thick cardboard taped to his hand to keep the IV in place.

So I asked, “Why, God? Why did you allow Cedric to get so ill? Why haven’t you healed him when I’ve asked? Why does he have to be in this place?”

Not an hour later, a woman popped up in the window next to Cedric’s crib, gazing at him admiringly and trying to ask me his age. I swung open the window, introduced myself to the woman, and we began talking….about her life, about Cedric, about why I was taking care of him even though he’s not my child, about why I had flown halfway around the world to do such things for a year, and eventually about my Jesus. We talked for hours as I held Cedric, sharing our stories and just talking about life. At one point the woman even offered to go and get a perscription filled for me for Cedric’s medicine, because I wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital. I handed this woman 1000 pesos (equivalent to about $25) for the perscription…

this woman I had just met,

this woman who’s been jobless for the past year,

this woman who went out of her way to help a stranger, and returned 5 minutes later with the perscription and correct change,

this woman who is coming to a Bible Study with me next week because the Lord allowed the baby I love to be in that crowded, unairconditioned hospital.

And each day I’ve worked at the hospital with Cedric, God has brought more and more opportunities like this across my path.

Nurses noticing the dedication of 6 American girls taking care of a baby that’s not their own.

Doctors asking if I am a missionary, and why we’re doing what we’re doing.

The list goes on and on for the number of times I’ve gotten to share Jesus, how His love has pushed me to love, and how there’s nothing on earth I’d rather be doing right now than holding this sick baby because it’s what pleases Him.

So I guess you could say God answered my Whys in altogether clear ways.

Which makes me think,

we may not understand why God does what He does, or why He allows bad things to happen, but to Him the purpose is always abundantly clear.

It may be a baby in a hospital,

or a loved one who is dying,

or an accident,

or getting laid off from your job,

or a divorce,

or a sickness that has been plaguing you for one year too many,

but God knows,

and He has a purpose.

So while I pray every day that Cedric would come home from the hospital, I know that God has a plan for each second he is there, and he’ll come back home the moment his purpose at that place has been completed. So thank you, Lord, for this opportunity to trust You more, to see Your purpose through the good and the bad, through the situations I understand and those that I don’t.