When I saw the nine-year-old boy lying there motionless on the bed, on his back, wearing the adult sized diaper, in desperate need of a shower, and completely dependent on the care of others my heart broke. When I saw the concerned looks in the eyes of his family members, and the clear love for him that their faces exhibited, it was clear to me that this boy was special. What I didn’t know at the time was that in just a few short days he would no longer be there. I had no idea that in just a few short weeks I would resume the same position that he had left.
One day in Romania Maria (our ministry contact) took a few members of my team on some home visits, as was the routine. On this particular day we went to visit a gypsy family to bring some food and diapers to. As we entered the home it was clear that they didn’t have much, but it was also clear that this family was making a real effort to keep their house clean and nice. Upon arrival we were lead into the bedroom. That was the room that everyone in the family slept in. Asleep in the crib were one and a half year old twins, standing in the doorway was a beautiful seven-year-old little girl, and in a cradle was a precious little baby girl who was less then a year old. Then we looked over at the bed and there he was. Alex was lying there on the bed as described at the beginning of this blog. Alex had severe Cerebral Palsy and due to the lack of resources and medical attention his family could afford it had gotten worse and worse over the years. He was just skin and bones. He had become confined to the bed and because of a lack of movement as well as his living conditions he had developed a really bad ulcer. Unfortunately over just a short period of time the ulcer became infected. Maria translated for us as the mother explained his condition and showed us his ulcer. They then let me hold the baby, which was something I had really been missing since being away from home. We then prayed for Alex as I gazed into the eyes of his precious baby sister. We prayed for his healing, and for protection and provision for his entire family. We then said are goodbyes and went home.
A few days later Maria got the phone call that Alex had passed away. When she told us my spirit was so crushed. He was only a child, a little boy who was way to young to die. He was supposed to be there when boys liked his little sisters to scare them away. He was supposed to love them when they experienced heartbreak from those same boys. He was supposed to run and play futbol and learn traditional Romanian dances.
Instead God choose to use his life in a different way. One of those ways was to inspire and encourage me. After the accident I was confined to a bed. I was required to lie on my back for 11 days (at first I was told a month). I had to use a bedpan and wear adult diapers. I was completely dependent on others and not even able to sit up and feed myself. I was dirty and gross and my hair was starting to dread all on its own. Tennyson didn’t even need to do it like the original plan was. I felt helpless. Even though I wanted to take care of myself, and hated having to depend on others so much God was telling me that I had to. Like Alex’s family had for him I could see that my teammates had a clear love for me, and I have seen so many others exhibiting that same love since the accident.
Still sometimes it was easy to get discouraged and restless. During those times I would think of Alex. I thought to myself.” who am I to feel this discouraged over a few days when he had to go through this and more for over nine years? Who am I to lose so much joy when so much joy was clearly resonating on Alex’s face when I saw him close to death?” Thinking of him gave me motivation. Thinking of him gave me inspiration.
So…this blog is for that precious little boy. This blog is for Alex and the legacy he has left, and the hope that he has brought to so many including me. This blog is for his mom, dad, and four beautiful little sisters. Although he was never able to stand or walk before I assure you that now he is dancing.
