***Disclaimer – In this post I will be describing what it was like to stay in a foreign hospital. Please note that we, as Americans, are incredibly privileged. I do believe that the staff here cares, just maybe hasn’t been taught how to show their care to their patients. I am grateful for my time spent here.” ***
There was one night that I will always remember. I had been waiting since 2pm for a nurse to come into my room and the clock had just hit 11:30pm. I really, really needed to go to the restroom. I was talking with a friend and he advised me to holler for someone. This was something I had already tried but the patient from the next room was hanging his clothes outside so I thought maybe he would hear me. I hollered for him over and over, desperately waiving my arms … he didn’t come.
I had two options:
Wet the bed and lay in it until morning or risk further injuring myself, push through the pain and get up to find a restroom. After consulting my friend (Thank you Jesus for technology), we decided the best option was for me to try and get up but not to push myself too hard. I lifted myself into a sitting position with a relative amount of pain. After arguing with myself for a good 2 minutes or so and some encouragement from my friend, I held my breath, stood to my feet and hobbled out of my room to find a bathroom. Once I left my room I noticed that there were no nurses in sight, no wonder they couldn’t hear me hollering. I also had no bathroom so I snuck into the patients room next door and used his.
After getting back into my room I decided I would change my sheets. Why not? I was already standing and the sheets were pretty gross if I’m being honest. I stole a sheet from the empty bed next to me but before I could do anymore, I heard footsteps in the hall. I threw the sheet over my bed and jumped in… forgetting about my injury. Once I hit the bed I was in severe pain. I begin to sob, yet again. I think I cried more tears in this hospital than I ever had in my life. I began hollering for a nurse. No one came. So I sobbed again. Poor me, I hate this, why me, why is God allowing this, you know all the things we think when we are struggling.
Suddenly something clicked… I was only crying out to people, had I tried asking God for help? I immediately began crying out to God, asking him to send someone, anyone to help with the pain. He didn’t respond, except for these words, “Alex, it’s not about you.” Great! Thanks for the help. Frustrated, I decided I would try to get out of bed and find a nurse. As I was lifting myself up, a nurse appeared in the doorway. “Pain?” She asked.
Over the next few days the atmosphere began to shift. Every time I would think about me the Lord would respond saying “Alex, it’s not about you”. Each time he spoke, I would be frustrated but my current need would always be met. Whether it was water, pain meds, going to the bathroom, food, the comfort of my mother … he took care of me and in the same breath reminded me not to get so caught up in myself.
I began to rejoice in my suffering. James 1:2 Count it all joy when you face trials of many kinds…..
The Lord and I had become close. He was my very present help in time of need. As if the Lord’s words weren’t enough, he began to show me through my team what he meant. Every day they would hike up a large hill, carrying food, water, bug spray, decorations and sometimes bathing supplies. They would bring me salads (hospital food was seriously rough… wouldn’t recommend dining out at the hospitals here any time soon) coffee and fruit. Haley and Jackie would give me a sponge bath and help me brush my hair. My team showed me in many ways what it looks like to live a life that isn’t about self.
As haley washed my hair
“Alex, it’s not about you”
As Jackie helped change my clothes
“Alex it’s not about you”
As Josh called the insurance
“Alex, it’s not about you”
As jesse… well.. smiled and enjoyed some left over cookies
“Alex, it’s not about you”
These people are a shining example of what it looks like to love your neighbor as yourself. Not only did they do this while I was in the hospital, but they have continued to do so after leaving.
I think back to these moments in the hospital with my team and I remember it like a movie. Everything slows down and I see Haley smiling as she washes my legs, I see Jackie gently trying to de-tangle my hair, Jesse smiling mischievously as he brings a smile to our faces, and Josh patiently dealing with the insurance company. I see the sun shining in and feel the breeze from the window. I will always remember my team in this way. I will always remember them as people who thought more about helping a friend than about their comforts. A people who are willing.
In the good and in the bad the Lord spoke “Alex, it’s not about you” countless times. I am still learning to live in this way. In the hospital I used his lesson to push me into caring more about the nurses than myself. I contacted a friend who helped me translate the question “Can I pray for you” I wrote this down and when the nurses came in they would write their prayers in my journal. I began to see the people around me as God’s beloved. My heart began to ache with a love for them and the thoughts of myself began to fade.
I haven’t ever been in such a vulnerable place with the Lord, crying out for something as simple as water yet I have never been more satisfied. He is my everything. Even though I don’t deserve it, he has served me and loved me well. He makes sure my glass is full and my pain is distant. He sends my brothers and sisters to comfort me. He takes care of me and the result is a change in perspective.
I have spent so much time in my life worrying about me; my finances, my food, my job me, me, me. If I truly believe the Lord takes care of all these things then I should have plenty of time to think less about me, me, me and more about Lord, Lord, Lord. My perspective is shifting from self to Jesus.
