She is three years old.
She is
beautiful.
She is also nameless … and has burns on her body from her stomach to her knees.
She lies in her hospital bed most of the day.
Sometimes her grandmother sits with her, sometimes she’s alone.
The crumbs from her past few meals remain in her bed.
I kill several ants that have made their way up into her sheets.
Nurses tend to her on and off throughout the day.
And that’s it.
That’s all she’s got.
I sat with her on two separate hospital visits.
In the back of my mind I try to ignore the fact that only 20% of the patients that enter this Swaziland hospital ever return home.
I pray for her.
That she would know
love through my touch and smile and English that she doesn’t understand.
I pray that she would not feel alone, but that she would somehow know that her Dad up in heaven is watching out for her.
We draw pictures.
We play with stickers.
I let her fall asleep listening to my iPod.
And that’s it.
That’s about all I’ve got.
In a way, I feel helpless.
It seems that there is nothing I can do to help my sweet little friend.
My hardened heart questions the Lord.
Why would you allow such pain in her young life?
And … why would you allow her to suffer practically alone through it?
And then the Lord spoke.
He gave me a picture of walking into her room all over again.
Instead of finding a little girl all alone in her hospital room, I saw Christ sitting in the same seat that I had been sitting in.
As I took His seat He spoke only one thing … “Thanks for the break.”
My eyes have been opened this year to the literal concept of being Jesus to the world.
To the orphan, to the hurting, to the lonely, to the unloved.
To physically
BE Christ in the flesh.
To be His
smile and
hands and
love.
To literally take His place watching out for one of His children.
I thank the Lord for my sweet friend back in Swaziland and I have trusted Him to look after her.
It’s definitely been hard and an exercise of faith for me this year to be exposed to many of the things we’re experiencing … and then to have to move on.
To leave and simply trust the Lord to take care of things – for wrongs to be made right … for families to be fed … for children to be loved.
But, for now, that’s what we do.
We let Him use us
– for
whatever amount of time – and then trust Him to finish the work He has started
It’s a little overwhelming really.
But
beautiful.
To know that He would entrust me to watch over her just for that short amount of time.
And to know that He would return to take His seat back once I had gone.
That
He is her true caretaker and that I was simply filling in for awhile.
And I guess that’s what I hope happens more in
all of our lives.
That we would be willing to fill in for Him.
That we would be aware of our potential of actually being His hands and feet – wherever we are.
May the Lord bless you all.
Much love, Michelle.
