On
Wednesdays and Fridays this month, we’ve gotten up early and met
several others at the Bungoma hospital to pray for the sick. Although
we’ve been tired, this was one of the ministries that my team most
enjoyed.
Each
of us would go with a Kenyan around to the different wards to pray
for the people we met. There were some private rooms and then some
large wards with tons of beds. In the children’s ward, most beds
held more than one kid. In some, there were up to five kids sharing
the same bed.
The
ward that we spent the most time in was the maternity ward, praying
for women who were about to give birth as well as new mothers and
their young babies.
On
one morning, I was praying for the new mothers. I got to hold a tiny
newborn, pray for the mother and dedicate the new baby. After this
prayer, I literally turned around and the woman in the next bed had
just lost her baby. So I prayed for her also.
It
was strange, two opposites sitting in beds right next to each other.
One woman celebrating the newborn she was holding in her arms and the
other trying hard not to cry over the child she no longer had.
There’s
times on this race when I don’t know what to do, or what to think.
When
I face intense rejoicing and mourning in the same five minutes, I
can’t make sense of why we face both of these situations. And I
still can’t. But I do know that God gives us grace to handle these
things. He gives us words to pray when we have none of our own. So
I’m going to trust that when I face these situations head on, He’ll
be there, and He’ll let me know what to do.
