I didn’t understand how death and life could coexist, until I lived in Africa; a place where unfathomable devastation and brokenness meets unimaginable beauty and dignity. Its intensity overwhelmed me and I struggled to digest what I saw and heard and felt inside myself. Especially everyday at 12 pm, when I ventured into suffering itself. The hospital.
An African hospital is one of those things that you cannot unsee, branded into your soul-sight forever. I walked into the children’s ward and all I saw was hopelessness lined with rickety beds, where sick little ones rested and weary mommies stood close by.
How could I possibly do anything about this? I can’t.
All I wanted to do was walk right back out, but then her little arms wrapped around my leg. I looked down and saw a beaming white smile spread across a round black face. And I saw hope.
After a few days of visiting, I knew all of the patients and they knew me. Together we would chat and tickle and pray. What I once dreaded became something I looked forward too. But it never got easier.
Nothing could have prepared me for that day. A twin baby girl had died a few days before, so we were all still wandering numb. A little girl was playing with my hair when I heard that piercing baby cry, and I found a mother with her chunky baby boy. He wasn’t malnourished and lifeless, like most of the babies, and I didn’t know what was causing his tears, until she took his diaper off. His entire bottom was raw flesh, bleeding, flies buzzing. I looked away and stroked his little fingers while his mama tried to clean and comfort him, when a nurse interrupted. I watched as she got a needled ready, squeezed his little arm tight, punctured his flesh, and hoped for blood. Screams. And no blood. She took the needle out and poked him again. Still not blood. Again.
Please God, let her find the vein.
Two more tries. Nothing.
Okay, this time God, let there be blood.
Again and again. His screams turned to tired whimpers. After what seemed like an eternity, the needle was still dry.
God its just a little blood, can’t you do that?
She gave up. Defeated, I held back tears while I walked outside.
God, I wasn’t asking for a miracle, just a little blood. Why didn’t you answer me? How am I supposed to trust you if you won’t even answer my plea for this baby boy? Why are there innocent children and babies in that room, suffering, fighting dying, when I can do nothing? How can you let that happen? They don’t deserve this. God, give me something. Anything.
Just like his blood… nothing.
I dried my tears, wandered back in, and found myself rocking a malnourished baby boy while his mommy slept. He had been there for a month now, all skin and bones, and I prayed everyday for him to gain weight. Today he had lost 3 ounces.
Seriously, God?
Again, across the crowded room, I heard that familiar baby cry. 5 minutes later, it still hadn’t stopped. Sleeping now, I put baby boy back in his crib and went to find the tears. I found the most beautiful baby girl, but no mommy. The nurse said she had disappeared that morning. No one knew where she was, when she would be back, or how to comfort her helpless baby. I picked her up, holding her little body to my chest, but the tears didn’t stop. I gave her a bottle, she continued to wail. We walked outside, that didn’t help either.
God, give her rest. I don’t understand why you’re allowing this? What do I do?
Still tears. So I did the only thing I knew how. I sang.
Three days before, Bethel had released a new album and obviously, I had listened to it on repeat since then. I started to sing one of my favorite songs on the album.
“When you stand, I feel the floor of heaven tremble. When you speak, oh I feel it in my chest. When you sing, all my fears are put to rest.”
Her tears didn’t relent.
“What a wondrous thing, I can stand to sing, cause when I fall to my knees you’re the one who pulls me up again. What a mystery that you notice me, and in a crowd of ten thousand, you don’t miss a thing.”
Wailing.
“There’s no place I can go your love won’t find me, no place I can hide that you don’t see, no place I could fall your love wouldn’t catch me. You see it all, you’re in everything. When I miss understand, your love understands me. You see it all through the eyes of love. You don’t miss…”
I don’t miss a thing.
I felt in in my chest.
Alissa, I see this baby. I see you. Even in all this suffering, in this crowded hospital room, I see it all. I’m in everything. My ways are higher than your ways. You don’t understand me, but my love understands you. Trust me. I don’t miss a thing.
It was quiet. She was sleeping. And all my fears were put to rest.
