Last night we purchased some soap and biscuit cookies and packaged them up into individual cases and bags to pass out at the government run children's hospital. We also had TONS of little stuffed toys...smallish little Humpty Dumpty looking guys. Normally we make a trip to the main hospital with a handwritten letter asking permission to visit, get a stamp and a signature and present that when we arrive. I suppose this is the security measures taken, but truly a few shillings to the head nurse would accomplish the same thing...its just not how we roll most of the time.
I skipped that step and we showed up about 9:30, convincing them that we'd come before and wanted to visit and pray. It took a little bit, but we were given access to visit and sent to the critical care area first. We first met a young mother holding a tiny infant, clearly premature...her twin had died and mama was sitting outside the ward on a wooden bench cradling the other.
Its more than we can take to go in with hearts wide open...we needed Jesus to carry us to every bed and give us the strength to smile, encourage and pray for each child and parent. We want to turn away...and you may feel the same, but we all need to know that there are hard places on this earth and impossible situations and even writing it this way causes me to feel completely inadequate to describe it and in a way, it feels wrong to get through it without crumbling in a heap, sobbing uncontrollably. I pray it was God's strength and not an inability to understand the depths.
We left the critical care area, and went to the acute ward... 50 children suffering an attack of sickle cell anemia or asthma etc... lay in varying stages of pain and suffering. We spread out and prayed for every single one, asking each parent what their child was stricken with.
Dann asked one mother, whose child's assigned area was the floor in this overcrowded room, what was it that her child was sick with and what was his name...he lay covered completely. "His name is Daniel...he has just died". No parent should ever have to say those words... There are no words, no gesture, no prayer that brings comfort for any of us at that moment. On the dirty floor, with his mother sitting beside him...he was gone.
It happens every day, over and over again Janet says. A bed in the hospital means only that you are there, admitted. It doesn't necessarily mean you have been checked or received care. Doctor's are overwhelmed by numbers and see tired of the loosing battle. Others, treat patients willing to pay a bribe. I saw one nurse in the Acute Ward with the 50 young patients...for so many it is a place to die, not a place to heal.
We moved from there to the mal-nutrician ward where tiny bodies, some with skin draping their bones and listless and more mothers and grandmothers attending them, hoping for some change. We ran out of soap for the mothers and toys for the kids. But we kept praying and asking God for miracles and to make Himself known and for healing and that he would be glorified...I suppose maybe it is the mother in me...but it is too much to imagine sitting and having to watch your child deteriorate and have no way to get them the attention or medication they need.
It felt wrong to walk out...to walk away. It doesn't matter how many times we come, how many little ones-too sick to respond, how much we want to look away, we are called to lean in, to share suffering, to encourage and pray for others, helping to bare their burdens. There was nothing about it that seemed right, God help them.
Evan and the younger boys headed to Chayah ahead of us, skipping the hospital visits. Evan spent the day recording music with a few girls and Kristen and Rachel got right back to sewing with the older girls. We all admired how happy the chickens seemed in their new coop. When lunch was served we learned that two of the flock had spent their last night there and were now joining us for our midday meal.
Dann and I got back to helping with screen printing.
We were visited today by the tearful wife of a former employee. The man had been gone for several weeks leaving his family including 3 children without a bit of money or food. Annette has been working in the garden of another neighbor and when she arrived home today, she found that everything they owned had been taken. Others around reported that it was her husband and that he would be selling the mattresses, bedding and cookware. "He has found another wife". She desperately wanted us to take her children and give them a place at Chayah.
After lunch, a big group walked to the nearby area full of some of the most needy in the area. They had a bunch more tiny plastic toys, some bisquit cookies and some hopes of visiting these many neighbors. They reported a swarm-stampede as soon as the kids realized there were gifts.
Kristen and Micah went to visit a friend, Beatrice for the afternoon and doted on her little guy. Janet, Rachel and I headed back to Kakira to pick up our dresses for a wedding on Saturday. None of us are sure of the style but are trying to commit to following through with wearing them. We'll see...
We also were able to get a few things for Annette and the three little ones. Janet will be coaching her in some new business, perhaps selling vegetables maybe, to support herself and the children. We can help with school fees and emergency food items, but having her own income will be better for all of them. We'll be praying for the Lord to give her success and that her husband doesn't cross paths with any of the 10 of us in the meantime!
I have no pictures from today...distracted by the devastation of the morning and the hardship this afternoon. In between, the children at Chayah remind us that there is hope and that joy can be found in the midst.
Tomorrow is our last day with Chayah's family before we head to the Capitol in Kampala for the wedding festivities! Pray our weary travellers through and that our feet walk in accordance with God's desires these last few days as a team.
No comments:
Post a Comment