DISCLAIMER: There won’t be pictures in this series. The hospital won’t allow pictures of patients so there are only words – and I struggle to find those. I am going to be very real and honest with you. Please don’t judge. Please pray – for guidance, wisdom, and the perspective and love of God.
Today was a tough day…on the heart. We went to the hospital to work with malnourished children. (This is the plan for two mornings a week.) We took a tour first, and I was sick to my stomach. Ward after ward of adults and children were mentally disabled. I tried my best to smile, to shake a hand, to whisper blessings. I took deep, deep breaths. The children were in metal cribs that looked like cages. Oh I am so thankful we won’t be working in here. I just wouldn’t know what to do or say. My heart is hurting so much just from walking past.
I heard her screams before I saw her. I don’t know if I can do this. Oh my word. There she sat, looking like a gorilla in a tall cage in the corner. She yelled as if she was tormented. Jesus Christ of Nazareth rules in this place. Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Jesus Christ of Nazareth. She was quiet. JENNY was written on her cage. Oh God, please help. Our guide was finished speaking. We moved to the next room. Something was rising up in my heart. You need to go back and pray for her. My heart beat rapidly. Jenny screamed again. My skin crawled. I wanted to run. No way. Uh huh, I don’t want to go back in there, I don’t want to pray, what if nothing happens. But the fear of regret and disobedience was stronger than the fear of re-entry. Somewhere the words came, and I spoke up as we circled the cage-like cribs of the adjoining room. “We need to go back and pray for Jenny.” Angela gave a determined affirmation. We slowly walked back in the room, nerves jingling, hearts beating. She started screaming. Hands outreached, we prayed. We declared Jesus’ authority, His peace, His love. Jenny quieted. Whimpered. Sat there. “Amen.” We filed out of the room. I heard her yell again. God, did we do anything there? What is going on with Jenny? My heart cringed at another ear-piercing scream. Ugh, thank goodness we were working with the children upstairs. Malnourished kids. Kids we could interact with, could hold and could help. We’d have instructions. We’d feed them. We’d see improvements.
We climbed up to the second floor to see the children – oh bless them. Silently, four at a time, we crept by each crib, each baby with a cleft palate, with such deformities one would wonder if he/she was human. Our guide said most of the patient’s mothers didn’t get enough folic acid when they were pregnant. Genetics were responsible for others.
Our tour was complete. I was about to throw up. Why was I born so healthy? in America with good health care? Why am I blessed with five wonderful nieces and nephews who are healthy? Why God, did you allow these children with such severe deformities and disabilities, who drool and flies flock, who choke on their own spit, who can’t walk but lay there and bite their hands and feet and scratch themselves – why did You allow conception?
We went to get our instructions and begin work. Plans had changed. A volunteer had not handled a child properly in the unit we were supposed to work. The malnutrition/cleft palate ward was restricted. We were to work with the children who had cerebral palsy. Take initiative and go. There are no instructions.
We were going back to Jenny’s ward.
