Disclaimer for my parents – no, I am not sick, injured or dying.
Since being on the race, I’ve had to make 2 hospital trips – one to make sure my ankle wasn’t broken and one due to an intestinal infection (worst experience of my life thus far). However, this month, my team and I were assigned to do ministry at a local trauma hospital every afternoon, so hospital visits will now be a part of my daily routine.
We are working with a program that provides entertainment and activities for patients. Before this program, patients and caregivers had nothing to do all day long except sit in their beds. After wheelchair races started occurring in the halls, this program was created. And because this is a trauma hospital, most patients stay for weeks to months at a time recovering from things like car or machine accidents, land mine incidents, bad falls, etc. So, we get to go in and play games, sing, talk, and just hangout with anyone and everyone inhabiting that hospital.
Walking in on the first day, I was hit with overwhelming feelings of confusion. Small, uncomfortable looking beds lined pretty tiny wards. People, so many hurting people, with rods and eternal fixators sticking out of their skin, toddlers with casts up to their hips, amputees, and babies just wanting to be held by their parents but not being able to move the lower half of their body filled the rooms and halls. I saw and felt so much pain in this small hospital – physical, emotional, and spiritual. At first glance, I looked around and thought to myself, “where are you, Jesus?”. He answered my question as soon as I started interacting with the patients.
The first patient I met was a 13 year old girl, who speaks minimal English, named Cheoum. She got hit by a motorcycle on her way to school in early January and had to get surgery on her femur. Her neighbors in the ward are all under the age of 8, so she often feels lonely and bored. She was instantly so curious about my life and why I was here. By day 2, when she got more comfortable with me, she grabbed my phone and went through my entire camera roll and asked “where”, “who”, “what”, and “why” about every picture and video. When she’s not trying to get as much information possible about me, we play Jenga, Chinese checkers, cards, and color together. She is gentle and curious, and my heart is softened just being in her presence.
The next patient I met, that I can’t wait to write more about in future blogs, is a 17-year-old boy named Makara who stays in the infection ward. 2 months ago, he was stabbed by a samara sword (his exact description in English). It quickly got very infected but by the time he came to the hospital, the infection was so bad that his doctors had to resort to amputating his leg above the knee. An amputee at age 17. My heart continued to break. However, I was even more confused after sitting down to meet him. His smile radiated so brightly and touched my heart immediately. A kid, who has every right to be depressed and mad at the world, had the brightest and most joyful spirit I’d come across in a while. I noticed he was reading a book about how to learn guitar and asked if it would be okay to bring him a real guitar to practice on. I have never seen more grateful eyes staring back at me.
Through this hospital, the Lord is really breaking my heart and forcing me to rely fully and completely on Him to meet the needs of those around me. He’s softening my heart to His people. And He’s continuing to show me bits and pieces of who He is and what He’s all about through the people He’s placing in my life – meekness, gentleness, radiant joy, perseverance. This life is such a privilege.
