Your grace is sufficient for me, your power is made perfect in my weakness. On my knees unable to stand - my plan has fallen apart...again. I know your truth and know that you're better, but I still hurt. Grace swallows me up like a whale in a sea of sin. Have I been saved from something so much worse? The questions flood my mind, I need faith. I know that you are good to those that seek you and have hope in you. This ending will birth yet another beginning. I must walk humbly. I must love kindness. I must forgive. I must count everything as loss.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
when.things.fall.apart
This was supposed to be a week with lots of downtime. It was an off week for tuesday night young adult bible study. It was also an off week for friday night youth group that I help lead. The only nights that I had plans was monday (malawian monday dinner) and thursday - our weekly McGrath bible study and dinner. On monday, my week took a very different turn.
I was approached by the medical director and one of the orthopaedic surgeons at CURE, Dave. He told me that he had a special request. CURE also serves adult patients from Malawi, Mozambique, Zimbabwe with ortho needs. An older man had traveled from Zimbabwe to see Dave for a total hip replacement. He was admitted to CURE and was being prepped for the procedure on monday morning. He had a heart attack on sunday night at CURE and was rushed to another hospital in the area, where he passed away. Incredibly unfortunate and sad, but there's more. He wasn't traveling alone. He brought along his adopted son, Learnmore, a 14 year old boy. CURE was in the middle of figuring out how to get Learnmore back to Zimbabwe and that's where I come into play.
Dave asks me if I mind if Learnmore stays at the guesthouse. Before I even meet the kid, I agree and tell him that I will look after him. Since the guesthouse is right across the parking lot from the hospital, Dave feels that it's the best idea. Then Learnmore walks up to Dave and I at the main entrance to the hospital. We do introductions and I grab his bag. I have no idea how long he will be with me. I have no idea if he's upset, afraid, depressed, confused. We walk to his guardian's car and grab the valuables in sight. Then I show him his room at the guest house.
He seems ok. He tells me that he's ok. I'm not sure if he's processing the emotions or internalizing them. I don't know how close he actually was to the deceased, John. However, I'm fairly certain that they had a nice relationship, if he chose Learnmore to travel to Malawi with him for his procedure. He is on holiday from school, so he's not missing anything at home. I make tea for Learnmore and we chat. The work waiting on me at the hospital takes a different perspective. It's a situation that would seem bizarre at home. Taking care of a 14 year old is a situation that I would probably run from - most likely. But here, in Malawi, it almost seems normal. I also understand my role and responsibility with Learnmore. It's not in my job description, like lots of things I do here, but it's part of why I'm here. I'm here to serve and life is much, much bigger than CURE.
Fast forward a few hours and it's malawian monday at the house. Lawrence comes over along with Peter (UK med student), Mwara (malawian doctor) and Veith (gap year German volunteer). We prepare a traditional malawian meal - nsima with pumpkin leaves. Peter also adds to the menu with a bag of grasshoppers from the market. We heat them and salt them to taste. We sit down and enjoy a meal together along with Learnmore.
I take Learnmore to the McGraths on thursday for bible study and dinner. The rest of the week, we sit at the guesthouse. He plays on the computer and rides my bike. He acts like a typical 14 year old. During the workday, he sits in my office or goes to the cafe to watch soccer. He says that he's not bored, I don't know if he's just being nice or not. He's well behaved and grateful.
On friday, Shamira (private patient administrator) at CURE tells me that the body is ready for viewing at 10am and a cremation service will take place at 2pm. I was planning on shooting 2 surgeries Friday morning. I scratch my entire to-do list. Lawrence agrees to work hard to try to get as much as possible done. I know I need to be with Learnmore. The viewing wasn't too emotional - we walked around the body lying on a table in the center of the room. Learnmore is emotionless. I suggest that he spends a couple minutes alone in the room with John's body. He does. We leave and Learnmore puts his head in his hands. I think he's breaking, but it's not the case. He looks up and he's fine. We walk back to the hospital.
At 1pm, we jump in the back of an ambulance to head to the cremation at a hindu temple with a few other CURE staff. John wasn't hindu, the temple is the only place close to the hospital that handles cremation services. We arrive a few minutes later and I observe the pile of wood sitting under a large metal shelter. John's body is completely wrapped in a white sheet lying on a back board next to the wood. The mortuary assistant that transported the body asks Learnmore if he knows what is about to take place. He is briefed on the planned ceremony. The body will be placed on the wood and then there will be a few words. After a short prayer, Learnmore will be asked to light the fire. The body and the wood will burn down before a few more remarks and then we depart. Not a long service, but a highly intense one.
Stuart, CURE director, opens with a few words. He then prays and Learnmore is asked if he's ready. The boy is handed a large burning stick. He walks around the body in the pile of wood and lights different logs ablaze. I hug him as he finished and we stand back from the heat and watch the fire. The thoughts running through my head are BIG, massive questions. This boy shouldn't be here on his own, putting fire to his adopted father. He shouldn't be in a strange country with complete strangers trying to comfort him. Or should he? What if he is in the best place for what seems to be a worst case scenario? My thoughts are scattered. I feel myself tearing up. I have to reset - Learnmore is not emotional, I surely can't be in front of him. I hold back the tears but the questions flood my head.
I realize that as a westerner, I perceive everything including death differently. Death is still tough here, but people continue on with their lives. We analyze and overanalyze the details of death. For an african, death is natural and matter of fact. Everyone goes and there are no mistakes in death. They accept it and continue moving. There is a grief period but it looks different. It feels different. Not saying that either perspective is right or wrong, but it's very different.
Sorry for the lengthy post, but my heart is heavy and writing helps. Learnmore left with a couple missionaries in the area that were headed back to Zim this morning. I pray for safety and comfort when he returns home. I met him less than a week ago but my experiences with him will always be with me. All we can do is keep fighting the good fight and trust God in all situations. God works in ways that we don't understand.
At 1pm, we jump in the back of an ambulance to head to the cremation at a hindu temple with a few other CURE staff. John wasn't hindu, the temple is the only place close to the hospital that handles cremation services. We arrive a few minutes later and I observe the pile of wood sitting under a large metal shelter. John's body is completely wrapped in a white sheet lying on a back board next to the wood. The mortuary assistant that transported the body asks Learnmore if he knows what is about to take place. He is briefed on the planned ceremony. The body will be placed on the wood and then there will be a few words. After a short prayer, Learnmore will be asked to light the fire. The body and the wood will burn down before a few more remarks and then we depart. Not a long service, but a highly intense one.
Stuart, CURE director, opens with a few words. He then prays and Learnmore is asked if he's ready. The boy is handed a large burning stick. He walks around the body in the pile of wood and lights different logs ablaze. I hug him as he finished and we stand back from the heat and watch the fire. The thoughts running through my head are BIG, massive questions. This boy shouldn't be here on his own, putting fire to his adopted father. He shouldn't be in a strange country with complete strangers trying to comfort him. Or should he? What if he is in the best place for what seems to be a worst case scenario? My thoughts are scattered. I feel myself tearing up. I have to reset - Learnmore is not emotional, I surely can't be in front of him. I hold back the tears but the questions flood my head.
I realize that as a westerner, I perceive everything including death differently. Death is still tough here, but people continue on with their lives. We analyze and overanalyze the details of death. For an african, death is natural and matter of fact. Everyone goes and there are no mistakes in death. They accept it and continue moving. There is a grief period but it looks different. It feels different. Not saying that either perspective is right or wrong, but it's very different.
Sorry for the lengthy post, but my heart is heavy and writing helps. Learnmore left with a couple missionaries in the area that were headed back to Zim this morning. I pray for safety and comfort when he returns home. I met him less than a week ago but my experiences with him will always be with me. All we can do is keep fighting the good fight and trust God in all situations. God works in ways that we don't understand.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)