How does one even put into words what I just experienced? When I began my day today I never would have guessed it would have turned out the way it did.
Today we started at the homeless (MES) ministries at 9am. We have been working with them the last week and a half talking with and feeding the homeless, as well as reaching out to prostitutes. Today though, instead of staying at the feed we left early to head to a sort of church classroom with Powerhouse church (the one we have been attending while in Cape Town) that we planned to sit in on. When we got there, we ended up having Tommy speak in front of the class, tell a little bit about us, answer some Q and A, and give out some encouraging words. A few people prayed over us, and we prayed over a few people…a typical gathering on the word race.
At the very end a man came up to Tommy and asked if we would like to come to the hospital nearby with him to pray for a boy who had been in a motorcycle accident and is now suffering from brain damage. He thought it appropriate after hearing us talk about our own accident town months ago almost to the day (the accident was November 21st, it was January 20th). We talked as a team and all were eager to go visit.
The second we stepped into the hospital something inside me told me to prepare myself. Having a brother who had had two heart surgeries and a mother who has had two spinal surgeries, with the second one causing paralysis, I knew this visit was going to strike a chord.
I tear up now as I attempt to write this. We learn that one month ago, eighteen-year-old John Claude was in a motorcycle accident causing him severe brain damage. As we enter we finding John Claude lying in only boxers, making his scars and tubes clearly shown. He had a breathing mask on and we quickly realized he was unable to talk. There were pictures on the wall next to his bed, loving put up to show others of his life before the accident.
Heart completely broken for this boy, no, not a boy, someone very close to my own age, it took a lot for me to not break down right there. But as so many of us know who have struggled through watching someone you love suffer in a hospital bed, we must remain strong for them. I did not even know John Claude before this visit, but I had this feeling of overwhelming love and compassion for him. I wanted to be able to hug him and tell him everything was going to be alright, and then make it alright. Even now as I write this I want to go back there so badly and just sit with him and pray over him.
As I first approached I ended up right in his line of sight. Instantly we looked each other square in the eye. I could sense him trying to take me and those standing hear me in. From that moment on, as we all prayed for him, hardly once broke eye contact with him. I wanted to be able to look him in the eye with an assuring smile telling him he was going to be alright, and God has him and was going to heal him. As Tommy explained to him why we were there and about our own accident that God saved us from, I prayed he understood, and I believe he did.
At one point the man who brought us grabbed John Claude’s hand to pray for him. When he let go, it looked like he was almost reaching to grab for it back. I put my hand out toward his and he grabbed my fingers with such a shockingly firm grip for his condition. He lay slightly on his side, so his arm was perpendicular to the ground, with our hands held suspended in the air. He then pulled both of our arms closer to himself. I did everything I could to hold back the tears that stubbornly wanted to break through, but I held fast.
All six of us in soft voices were praying hard for him. At one point I stopped praying and instead just talked to him. I told him it seemed he had a lot of people back home who loved him, and that his pictures were pretty gosh darn cute. I wanted to give him any sense of normalcy and since of friendship I could. Before we left I told him that if he ever feels lonely, he should talk to God, because God is always listening and is always there for him. His eyes seemed knowing, so I believe he heard our words and prayers.
Twice, while holding his hand, I tried to sort of let go but he tightened his grip. When it was time to leave, my heart broke even further as he held even firmer trying to hold onto my hand. With a few last words of encouragement as we walked out the door, we left. At this point I could no longer hold back the tears. I attempted to collect myself as the rest of my team prayed over a few nurses. No one was really talking as we made our way to the car with misty eyes.
I could not stop picturing him looking back at me with his air mask on and firm hand grip. That could have been me that could have been any of us; statically, that should have been Tommy. As we drove away I kept getting flashbacks to when my brother, Zach, was in ICU (intensive care unit) after getting out of heart surgery. He had a breathing tube, could somewhat open his eyes, but could not talk. My younger brother who I love so much, lying defenseless on a hospital bed with all of us unable to do a thing. I knew for a fact that my brother was going to get better and yet it still wrecked me. My mother, coming out of surgery, could not wiggle her toes, meaning she was unable to walk, and that wrecked me, that wrecked all of us. John Claude is someone else’s loved one, someone’s son, and maybe even someone’s brother. My brother is now 100% recovered with a sweet scar, and my mother has improved greatly and continues to do rehab and recover more and more ever day, and I desperately pray John Claude will as well.
Today made me want to call home to friends and family more than ever before on the race. What happened to John Claude could happen to anyone at any time. We were in a very serious car accident where it could have happened to us. I don’t know about you, but that makes me want to tell everyone I love how much I care about them. It also makes me want to get up and tell every single person about Jesus. Someone you love could die today without knowing Him: you could die without having told those you were supposed to about Him. This is not supposed to be a morbid blog or a blog to make you pity John Claude because I doubt that is what he would want, but it is one that points out the harsh realities I came to today. Yes, I am a traveling missionary so I do talk to many people about Jesus, but there is so much more I could be doing. And what about when I get home? Does mission work just stop? Of course not. Everyday life is the mission field.
I pray that right now that God is talking with John Claude. That he has a peace inside of him as he lies in that hospital room. I pray for all of you, that you do not let a day go by without resolving that conflict, or telling those people how much you care about them, because you do not know when you might not be able to anymore.
