For real?

The other day I came home and wrote out this fantastic post. I mean it was poetic and thought-provoking, would have had you on the edge of your seat. I hit save about 30 times while writing, (as my usual paranoid self does) left to eat dinner, came back, and it was gone.

Ok, I admit, at times my sarcasm is a bit over the top, as evidenced by the above, but the part about losing my post while I dined upstairs is totally true. Instead of wallowing in self pity and wearily try to re-write everything, I decided to leave the blogging world behind for a few days, thus the reason for my extended absence here.
Seriously. I take FORever to get to a point, don't I?

For the last few months I have been on a 'quest' for realness. I want it, I crave it, I need it. During training before coming here I started being real with myself and more importantly, real with God. Subsequently I desired this same realness from the people around me.
I decided a while ago that I wasn't going to sugar coat things for the people who read this or the people I personally talk with about my experiences here. I don't want to just tell stories without sharing the thoughts that go through my head while those stories are developing.

Last week we were out visiting a patient at her vegetable stand on the side of the road. Its a fairly typical impoverished scene you would expect to see in a 3rd world country, and the beauty in it since being here has been the ability and opportunity to see through that to the people.
My patient has a baby granddaughter who is usually at the stand with her, I would guess she is around 6 months old. At least I think its her granddaughter. One can never be sure exactly how everyone is related here, but that's beside the point (of course it is, I'm good at that). Last week we watched as the sweet baby created something that any nurse in her right mind would be compelled to collect and send for a culture. Her mom casually scraped some dirt over it, grabbed the baby by her arm, quickly washed the naked bum, and sat her back down in the rust colored dirt.

This particular visit the baby was again sitting on the ground as we took our seat on the stools a few feet away. In the middle of our visit she started wailing. I'm not talking a whimper or sniffle, I'm talking a bottom lip-quivering-shrill-I-am-NOT-happy-scream.
and no one seemed to notice. My automatic instinct was to scoop her up and comfort her, then I hesitated.

She has no diaper, if she goes while I'm holding her I won't be able to change my clothes for a while. I'm not sure I feel like dealing with it right now.

And then God gave me his opinion

But Suzanne, what do you think Jesus would do?

I motioned to my patient to hand the baby to me. She looked at me funny and I nodded, reassuring her I wanted her to pass me the baby. The man standing beside us took her by her arm and swung her over to my lap just as my patient slipped a piece of colorful fabric in between me and the child wearing nothing but a little necklace and a string of beads around her waist. I held the sandy baby, cooing back and forth with her, still hoping for a clean, dry encounter, but embracing her all the same.

I am not always proud of the thoughts that flash through my mind. I hesitate, I fail to react as I should, I stumble.
That's the real me.

The redeeming reality in all of this is I worship a God who is gentle and kind, quick to forgive, and just as fast to encourage and challenge me. His brilliance shines through my (numerous)imperfections, and He loves me enough to be patient as I run to catch up with each lesson He teaches me. I have been praying for a heart like Jesus, I'm not sure why I am so amazed God gave me an opportunity to see what that actually looks like.