Go ahead

On Tuesday morning I went out to the dock and was greeted excitedly by little Luc. He ran into my arms, but before he got to me, I could see the increased swelling in his eye. The same eye that used to be swollen with a tumor, the one we have been watching shrink, celebrating each week. It was puffy last week, but Tuesday it was pressing his eye closed. His lymphoma is fighting back.

At the hospital that morning a nurse approached us and asked us to come see about a child with suspected NOMA. While walking through the hospital we were told the child was actually a 12 day old baby. We entered a muggy hallway, put on previously worn gowns and hats in an attempt to be 'sterile', only to turn around and find a dying baby in a plastic bassinet right there in the corridor. I kept it together long enough to ask if we could pray for the baby who we knew was hours away from dying. I held it together, that is, until I asked what her name was, did she have a name? A lump in my throat formed as I heard the answer I dreaded. This precious baby with ashen hands and feet had no name, a common practice in countries who have high infant mortality rates.
I prayed with tears dripping down my cheeks.
God, you know this baby's name. You love her. Surround her with your angels.
We got the call the next day letting us know she had died.

On Wednesday we went to see Maurice. Instead of a running leap into our arms, we found him crying and sick with a massive infection in his affected eye. Sarah and I (one of the nurses from the ship who also fell in love with this boy) looked at each other in despair. Its funny how you can see terrible things for years, how you can be exposed to some of the worst cases as a nurse, but when your heart is involved you fall apart. Your reasoning goes out the window, you become desperate to do something. Anything. We reeled back our emotions enough to think about getting him to the ship for some blood work and to see a doctor. I understand what palliative care is, I really do, but when its a 5 year old boy who is dirty and suffering there is no other option, there never will be as far as I'm concerned. While we waited for his results I cried while writing an email to my mom about my prayer requests. I couldn't hold it together when I talked about wanting to give Maurice a bath, dress him in clean cotton pajamas, and put him in a big soft bed with a movie playing.

I sat Wednesday afternoon with Pania. His mother stared off blankly as she recalled all two and a half years of her sons life being filled with suffering. How he has never known anything but pain.

Every day this week I drove by a cripple man on the side of the street. He crawls on his hands and feet, using flip flops on his hands to protect them, dragging mangled and deformed feet behind him as he begs for money to eat.

This week I started waking up early. In the past weeks I have been praying for God to reveal anything I needed to change in my life, in my walk here. I felt a pulling to spend time with Him. To sit in His presence and just 'be'. Every morning I take my tea to Deck 8 and sit with the sun rising on my face. I watch it glimmer and glisten on the silvery ocean like sparklers on the fourth of July.
Every morning, I listen to the song Psalm 118 by Shane and Shane at the beginning of my time and then again at the end.
Give thanks to the Lord for He is good
His love endures forever
He is my strength and He's my song
His love endures forever
I will proclaim what He has done
His love endures forever
this is the day the Lord has made
I will rejoice and be glad in it
this is the day the Lord has made

Go ahead and wonder how or why I believe in God, why I am trying desperately to give up all of myself to follow Him. Go ahead and ask me how I reconcile the horrific things I see daily here, why I keep believing, how I smile with hope and cry with sorrow so often without breaking. Go ahead and think "whats the point" (as some have said), in being in these countries, holding an eye dropper next to an ocean. Go ahead and think I shouldn't get so close to these patients, that I should protect myself from the pain of losing them.
Actually, I'll save you the time and just continue writing.

On Wednesday night I made a phone call to Luc's mom. The translator put the phone to my ear and I heard the sweet words "allo Suzanne!" followed by gibberish from my little friend. When I walked into Luc's room the next morning I was greeted again by my favorite four year old, this time noticing the swelling around his eye was nearly gone before I scooped him into my arms. His mom didn't stop smiling after I told her countless people were praying for her son. I couldn't stop kissing his soft brown cheek and hugging him close.
Oh Luc, I love you so much.

On Wednesday I did get to bathe Maurice. Before I brought him home, we snuck him in an empty ward and gave him a warm shower. Afterwards, I put cream on his body and dressed him in clean clothes. When we were done he smiled and kissed my cheek, letting me pick up his weak body to carry him down the corridor. When I went to my room to grab him some lifesavers, I saw a package laying on my bed with shiny new stickers tucked inside. Talk about perfect timing. I got more smiles as I stuck dinosaurs and sharks to his bandages and littered his arms with even more.

This week, Pania's mother and I talked about how there is no greater pain than losing a child. Then we talked about how Pania will have a brand new life soon. He will be free from suffering and living in the perfect love of Jesus. It seems impossibly hard, and perfectly peaceful all at once, this line of thinking.

I read the words of my beautiful friend Meg today after a long week, and while still crying, I was handed a baby boy with two front teeth. On the spot therapy for my aching heart.
I know a God who loves these people here unconditionally. He cries watching his children suffer, He hears the prayers of the desperate, and He comforts those who don't think they can go on. Go ahead and believe that, it will be the best thing you have ever done. I promise.

He is good. His loves endures forever. I will proclaim what He has done.