Eddy works at a hospital in Ecuador. He spends his days surrounded by boxes and boxes of medicine and injections and IV bags and cannulas. He fills orders in the mornings, taking supplies to the pharmacy on the other side of the hospital. He walks through the maze of cardboard boxes with a spring in his step. He works hard. He works well, often checking and rechecking he grabbed cincuenta boxes or treinta injections. His work reminds me of Colossians 3:23, He works as if for the Lord and not for men. He’s approximately two feet shorter than me, and he laughs when I can’t keep up with his quick steps. He talks nonstop to me. I only catch every tenth word, but he keeps chatting anyway.
I’ve spent many mornings with Eddy, seeking orders out amidst the towers of boxes. Most times I follow him, counting out the right number of pills that the pharmacy has ordered. But one time, he finally lets me go by myself. I count pill bottles. I stack injections in a box. I carry them on the five-minute walk across the hospital. And in that moment when I’m alone, I have time to think about how ordinary it all is. This job, it’s not glamorous. It isn’t necessarily photo worthy. This isn’t full of elaborate stories or incredible life changes. And there, in the middle of the mundane, surrounded by a labyrinth of shelving, I see how truly extraordinary it is.
Now, I’m not going to try and make it sound more glamorous than it is. Some days in the hospital they don’t have work for us to do. Some days we sit for hours. Some days we carry cabinets and files all morning. We push carts of boxes and get lost in the cardboard maze. We don’t preach or start revivals or heal the sick. We often only interact with each other. We do “secular” work. But that is where Jesus comes in. Jesus, the one who healed our hearts in order that we would follow him here. Jesus, the one who destined from the beginning for our team of 8 to work at this hospital in Portoviejo. Jesus, the one who steps right into the mundane with us, unfazed by the simplicity of it all. He asks us to serve in the small things, and so we do.
It’s extraordinary, really. this hospital. this work. this unlikely friendship with Eddy. Not because we’re changing the world and bringing hundreds to the saving knowledge of Jesus, because we’re not. Rather, we’re choosing to see our Father here, to take this mundane work in stride. to pray over this place and the sick that come here. to have faith in our remarkable God that this could be holy ground.
So I pray for joy. I ask the Holy Spirit to be here in this hospital supply room. I laugh with Eddy when I don’t understand. I soak it all in, because this is an extraordinary life as the result of an extraordinary God.
side note: in those moments of downtime, we had the change to film this Oscar worthy performance. introducing episodes one and two of Dias de Hospital.
