Thursday, August 25, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
To die alone
I wonder if any of us have ever worried about dying alone. I think it's a fear for some that we may die and no one would know or no one notice, but have you ever worried that you might struggle with a disease and die slowly by yourself? I know, morbid, and especially this early in the am (it's 7 here) but this what we encountered yesterday.
We spent our morning at Mother Theresa's Home for the Dying. I'm sure many of you know of Mother Theresa's work in Calcutta with the dying and sick. Well, she has came to Haiti to start a similar home in port au prince. She reportedly was at this home on her hands and knees scrubbing the floors in preparation for the people to come.
The home is home to more than 100 people of all ages. They have a men's section and a women's section with rooms with about 25 people. The rooms are small with metal beds closely lined up together. It is warm and muggy, but for the most part there is not a feeling of sorrow or sadness that surrounds it. It's not old people..it's people my age, younger, and only a handful older than my parents..and they are dying with no family, no friends, no loved ones to take care of them.
Our visit started with Rebecca the director prepping us for what to expect. As she talked to us, her boys both said mom and pointed behind us. A person was being carried out on a stretcher, sheet atop their body, dead. A sobering sign of what this home was really about. It was our task, we were told, to give dignity to the dying. And so with a couple of tools in hand, we stepped into there lives.
We knelt on the floor and cut finger nails and toe nails and painted them a beautiful pink. We sat in beds and gave massages gently rubbing their backs, their feet, their hands. We handed out cool baby wipes for them to wipe their faces down and cool off just a little. We hoped to be a source of love, comfort, and care to these women.
Many of the women had children and many were younger than me. It was sobering and completely saddening. Many have illnesses that could easily be cured or life sustained in the US but here they cannot. With no family, no one, they come here. They are gentle and they smile and they are kind, but it saddened me deeply.
My morning ended meeting an elderly emaciated woman and having a chance to comfort her in what I am sure was one of her last days in this world. Nothing can prepare you for the emotion that comes with such an act. A humbling, privileged act of love that I was able to share because she allowed me to and God brought me to.
It was a morning that will go down in the history books of my life as full of moments that I had no choice but to rely on God, to believe that my tears were prayers and signs of grace, and to take a hold of the love that I can give as transformational and sustained by the spirit.
We spent our morning at Mother Theresa's Home for the Dying. I'm sure many of you know of Mother Theresa's work in Calcutta with the dying and sick. Well, she has came to Haiti to start a similar home in port au prince. She reportedly was at this home on her hands and knees scrubbing the floors in preparation for the people to come.
The home is home to more than 100 people of all ages. They have a men's section and a women's section with rooms with about 25 people. The rooms are small with metal beds closely lined up together. It is warm and muggy, but for the most part there is not a feeling of sorrow or sadness that surrounds it. It's not old people..it's people my age, younger, and only a handful older than my parents..and they are dying with no family, no friends, no loved ones to take care of them.
Our visit started with Rebecca the director prepping us for what to expect. As she talked to us, her boys both said mom and pointed behind us. A person was being carried out on a stretcher, sheet atop their body, dead. A sobering sign of what this home was really about. It was our task, we were told, to give dignity to the dying. And so with a couple of tools in hand, we stepped into there lives.
We knelt on the floor and cut finger nails and toe nails and painted them a beautiful pink. We sat in beds and gave massages gently rubbing their backs, their feet, their hands. We handed out cool baby wipes for them to wipe their faces down and cool off just a little. We hoped to be a source of love, comfort, and care to these women.
Many of the women had children and many were younger than me. It was sobering and completely saddening. Many have illnesses that could easily be cured or life sustained in the US but here they cannot. With no family, no one, they come here. They are gentle and they smile and they are kind, but it saddened me deeply.
My morning ended meeting an elderly emaciated woman and having a chance to comfort her in what I am sure was one of her last days in this world. Nothing can prepare you for the emotion that comes with such an act. A humbling, privileged act of love that I was able to share because she allowed me to and God brought me to.
It was a morning that will go down in the history books of my life as full of moments that I had no choice but to rely on God, to believe that my tears were prayers and signs of grace, and to take a hold of the love that I can give as transformational and sustained by the spirit.
Nothing is impossible
Imagine this....a mobile learning center. What do you think of? A large van painted with cartoon characters blaring fun music and carrying books? Well, think again. For the past two days, we have been the mobile learning center. Both mornings we have packed the pick up truck with three fold up tables, four boxes of laptops and another box of other computer accesories. With this in the bed and at least six people on top of it, we have travelled to three orphanages.
Each orphanage has had a different personality. Jimmy bonos (the one I mentioned in my last post) is crazy, wild, and a frenzy of activity. The foundation for promising children of Haiti is much quieter, smaller and a little more reserved. And pascals is an orphanage for children with special needs.
We brought the mobile learning center to all of these homes. We set up tables with laptops and a crazy amount of extension cords hooked to a traveling generator and also hooked up to some kind of network. Each child then has a log in name and gets to sign on to a fun imagine program. They each have a little set of headphones and watch and play games designed to help them learn to read and speak English! They learn capital letters and are asked to sing if you're happy and you know it in English. The computer even records them singing and plays it back to them. All the children from itty bitty to 13 or 15 are captivated by this.
At the foundation for promising children, it was our first time bringing computers. To see the sheer amazement in the children's eyes was incredible. Grins stretched across their faces as they watched children in America play soccer and say hello and goodbye. As volunteers we got to work along side them teaching them how to use a mouse and what it meant to click something. I got to work with a little boy named blackson. He couldn't have been older than three and he had somehow not been paired up with a volunteer so when I found him he was just sitting at the computer, head phones on, but not quite tall enough to reach the mouse. He was also the last one on our list for the morning. I went over scooped him up and put him on my lap and we started learning the letters A and M. Blackson was enthralled by it. My mouse teaching skills were not too great since he didn't really get the idea of moving the mouse side to side and up and down, but he sure as heck mastered the art of clicking. He clicked away like no mans business. He also sweetly and incredibly repeated back everything that was said in the program. He sounded out letters and said apple and mask. And of course a huge smile crossed his face when he got to build his own monster!
The mobile learning center is incredible. Its on a weekly schedule so that the kids have a set time when they know to expect it and it's set up everywhere from the front porch of houses to underneath a tent outside.
I loved teaching and helping these kids. Some of them are phenomenally quick on these computers and fly right through it. Richie, one of my little guys, was so so fast and it made me wonder where he will end up in the future. I hope that incredible potential finds opportunity. The sheer delight in learning was another brilliant moment. How often do I take my education for granted? How often do i take the education my children will one day get for granted? These children do not get to go to school so they literally yearn to learn. And lastly, who would have thought that any of this would have been possible? We had over 12 computer stations set up in the middle of poverty stricken orphanages and we are teaching reading and English in Haiti. Another reminder that the resourcefulness of Haiti is beyond anything I have experienced and another slap in the face reminder that nothing is impossible.
Each orphanage has had a different personality. Jimmy bonos (the one I mentioned in my last post) is crazy, wild, and a frenzy of activity. The foundation for promising children of Haiti is much quieter, smaller and a little more reserved. And pascals is an orphanage for children with special needs.
We brought the mobile learning center to all of these homes. We set up tables with laptops and a crazy amount of extension cords hooked to a traveling generator and also hooked up to some kind of network. Each child then has a log in name and gets to sign on to a fun imagine program. They each have a little set of headphones and watch and play games designed to help them learn to read and speak English! They learn capital letters and are asked to sing if you're happy and you know it in English. The computer even records them singing and plays it back to them. All the children from itty bitty to 13 or 15 are captivated by this.
At the foundation for promising children, it was our first time bringing computers. To see the sheer amazement in the children's eyes was incredible. Grins stretched across their faces as they watched children in America play soccer and say hello and goodbye. As volunteers we got to work along side them teaching them how to use a mouse and what it meant to click something. I got to work with a little boy named blackson. He couldn't have been older than three and he had somehow not been paired up with a volunteer so when I found him he was just sitting at the computer, head phones on, but not quite tall enough to reach the mouse. He was also the last one on our list for the morning. I went over scooped him up and put him on my lap and we started learning the letters A and M. Blackson was enthralled by it. My mouse teaching skills were not too great since he didn't really get the idea of moving the mouse side to side and up and down, but he sure as heck mastered the art of clicking. He clicked away like no mans business. He also sweetly and incredibly repeated back everything that was said in the program. He sounded out letters and said apple and mask. And of course a huge smile crossed his face when he got to build his own monster!
The mobile learning center is incredible. Its on a weekly schedule so that the kids have a set time when they know to expect it and it's set up everywhere from the front porch of houses to underneath a tent outside.
I loved teaching and helping these kids. Some of them are phenomenally quick on these computers and fly right through it. Richie, one of my little guys, was so so fast and it made me wonder where he will end up in the future. I hope that incredible potential finds opportunity. The sheer delight in learning was another brilliant moment. How often do I take my education for granted? How often do i take the education my children will one day get for granted? These children do not get to go to school so they literally yearn to learn. And lastly, who would have thought that any of this would have been possible? We had over 12 computer stations set up in the middle of poverty stricken orphanages and we are teaching reading and English in Haiti. Another reminder that the resourcefulness of Haiti is beyond anything I have experienced and another slap in the face reminder that nothing is impossible.
Nothing is impossible
Imagine this....a mobile learning center. What do you think of? A large van painted with cartoon characters blaring fun music and carrying books? Well, think again. For the past two days, we have been the mobile learning center. Both mornings we have packed the pick up truck with three fold up tables, four boxes of laptops and another box of other computer accesories. With this in the bed and at least six people on top of it, we have travelled to three orphanages.
Each orphanage has had a different personality. Jimmy bonos (the one I mentioned in my last post) is crazy, wild, and a frenzy of activity. The foundation for promising children of Haiti is much quieter, smaller and a little more reserved. And pascals is an orphanage for children with special needs.
We brought the mobile learning center to all of these homes. We set up tables with laptops and a crazy amount of extension cords hooked to a traveling generator and also hooked up to some kind of network. Each child then has a log in name and gets to sign on to a fun imagine program. They each have a little set of headphones and watch and play games designed to help them learn to read and speak English! They learn capital letters and are asked to sing if you're happy and you know it in English. The computer even records them singing and plays it back to them. All the children from itty bitty to 13 or 15 are captivated by this.
At the foundation for promising children, it was our first time bringing computers. To see the sheer amazement in the children's eyes was incredible. Grins stretched across their faces as they watched children in America play soccer and say hello and goodbye. As volunteers we got to work along side them teaching them how to use a mouse and what it meant to click something. I got to work with a little boy named blackson. He couldn't have been older than three and he had somehow not been paired up with a volunteer so when I found him he was just sitting at the computer, head phones on, but not quite tall enough to reach the mouse. He was also the last one on our list for the morning. I went over scooped him up and put him on my lap and we started learning the letters A and M. Blackson was enthralled by it. My mouse teaching skills were not too great since he didn't really get the idea of moving the mouse side to side and up and down, but he sure as heck mastered the art of clicking. He clicked away like no mans business. He also sweetly and incredibly repeated back everything that was said in the program. He sounded out letters and said apple and mask. And of course a huge smile crossed his face when he got to build his own monster!
The mobile learning center is incredible. Its on a weekly schedule so that the kids have a set time when they know to expect it and it's set up everywhere from the front porch of houses to underneath a tent outside.
I loved teaching and helping these kids. Some of them are phenomenally quick on these computers and fly right through it. Richie, one of my little guys, was so so fast and it made me wonder where he will end up in the future. I hope that incredible potential finds opportunity. The sheer delight in learning was another brilliant moment. How often do I take my education for granted? How often do i take the education my children will one day get for granted? These children do not get to go to school so they literally yearn to learn. And lastly, who would have thought that any of this would have been possible? We had over 12 computer stations set up in the middle of poverty stricken orphanages and we are teaching reading and English in Haiti. Another reminder that the resourcefulness of Haiti is beyond anything I have experienced and another slap in the face reminder that nothing is impossible.
Each orphanage has had a different personality. Jimmy bonos (the one I mentioned in my last post) is crazy, wild, and a frenzy of activity. The foundation for promising children of Haiti is much quieter, smaller and a little more reserved. And pascals is an orphanage for children with special needs.
We brought the mobile learning center to all of these homes. We set up tables with laptops and a crazy amount of extension cords hooked to a traveling generator and also hooked up to some kind of network. Each child then has a log in name and gets to sign on to a fun imagine program. They each have a little set of headphones and watch and play games designed to help them learn to read and speak English! They learn capital letters and are asked to sing if you're happy and you know it in English. The computer even records them singing and plays it back to them. All the children from itty bitty to 13 or 15 are captivated by this.
At the foundation for promising children, it was our first time bringing computers. To see the sheer amazement in the children's eyes was incredible. Grins stretched across their faces as they watched children in America play soccer and say hello and goodbye. As volunteers we got to work along side them teaching them how to use a mouse and what it meant to click something. I got to work with a little boy named blackson. He couldn't have been older than three and he had somehow not been paired up with a volunteer so when I found him he was just sitting at the computer, head phones on, but not quite tall enough to reach the mouse. He was also the last one on our list for the morning. I went over scooped him up and put him on my lap and we started learning the letters A and M. Blackson was enthralled by it. My mouse teaching skills were not too great since he didn't really get the idea of moving the mouse side to side and up and down, but he sure as heck mastered the art of clicking. He clicked away like no mans business. He also sweetly and incredibly repeated back everything that was said in the program. He sounded out letters and said apple and mask. And of course a huge smile crossed his face when he got to build his own monster!
The mobile learning center is incredible. Its on a weekly schedule so that the kids have a set time when they know to expect it and it's set up everywhere from the front porch of houses to underneath a tent outside.
I loved teaching and helping these kids. Some of them are phenomenally quick on these computers and fly right through it. Richie, one of my little guys, was so so fast and it made me wonder where he will end up in the future. I hope that incredible potential finds opportunity. The sheer delight in learning was another brilliant moment. How often do I take my education for granted? How often do i take the education my children will one day get for granted? These children do not get to go to school so they literally yearn to learn. And lastly, who would have thought that any of this would have been possible? We had over 12 computer stations set up in the middle of poverty stricken orphanages and we are teaching reading and English in Haiti. Another reminder that the resourcefulness of Haiti is beyond anything I have experienced and another slap in the face reminder that nothing is impossible.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Joy
It's a beautiful, muggy morning in Haiti...the electricity went out last night and so our precious fans that are our ac were out too. The 15 minute period seemed like an eternity but boy was it a blessing when the power came back on.
Moments of joy made up my afternoon yesterday. We went to Jimmy Bono's Home for Street Boys. As we pulled into this house, we were immediately swarmed with little hands and arms reaching up to us for hugs. All 50 or so boys live in this one house. Hours and hours passed as we played and learned creole and took over 300 photos. God bless my camera battery....
So many moments jump out as moments of joy. One little boy named Sebastian caught my attention early on. He was quiet and very gentle and very much an observer. He would look on as I talked with the older boys and would smile and look away. Such a flirt! We became fast friends. One of the older boys, Richie, was asking me the regular questions of how old are you, where are you from, do you have a husband, and then do you have babies! Jokingly, I asked 13 year old Richie if he had babies, and he replied with a big grin "yes, Sebastian is my baby...do you want him?" I laughed and asked him if he became a father at 7 since Sebastian is 5...He chuckled and said uh huh...and then admitted it was a lie.. The whole conversation was riddled with laughter and giggles. So much joy...
These same two boys when meal time arrived ended our UNO game and took me back behind the house to wash our hands. Richie picked up the cup of water and poured water over my hands and then handed the cup to me to wash his hands. It reminded me of the beauty of foot washing..a humbling shared gift.
When the boys all sat down to eat, they all squished into a long table and elbow to elbow bowed their heads to pray. A perfectly sacred peaceful moment.
I am so thankful for the joy of these boys, for their attitudes, and for the gift of laughter and love they shared with us. The example of love they shared with us is one I hope to bring home. What would our world look like if everyone was greeted with a hug and a smile? What if everyone no matter who you are, what you look like or how old you are was welcomed with open arms. I hope to do that in my life.
Moments of joy made up my afternoon yesterday. We went to Jimmy Bono's Home for Street Boys. As we pulled into this house, we were immediately swarmed with little hands and arms reaching up to us for hugs. All 50 or so boys live in this one house. Hours and hours passed as we played and learned creole and took over 300 photos. God bless my camera battery....
So many moments jump out as moments of joy. One little boy named Sebastian caught my attention early on. He was quiet and very gentle and very much an observer. He would look on as I talked with the older boys and would smile and look away. Such a flirt! We became fast friends. One of the older boys, Richie, was asking me the regular questions of how old are you, where are you from, do you have a husband, and then do you have babies! Jokingly, I asked 13 year old Richie if he had babies, and he replied with a big grin "yes, Sebastian is my baby...do you want him?" I laughed and asked him if he became a father at 7 since Sebastian is 5...He chuckled and said uh huh...and then admitted it was a lie.. The whole conversation was riddled with laughter and giggles. So much joy...
These same two boys when meal time arrived ended our UNO game and took me back behind the house to wash our hands. Richie picked up the cup of water and poured water over my hands and then handed the cup to me to wash his hands. It reminded me of the beauty of foot washing..a humbling shared gift.
When the boys all sat down to eat, they all squished into a long table and elbow to elbow bowed their heads to pray. A perfectly sacred peaceful moment.
I am so thankful for the joy of these boys, for their attitudes, and for the gift of laughter and love they shared with us. The example of love they shared with us is one I hope to bring home. What would our world look like if everyone was greeted with a hug and a smile? What if everyone no matter who you are, what you look like or how old you are was welcomed with open arms. I hope to do that in my life.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
I made it!
Greetings from Haiti!
It has been an absolute whirlwind since the moment we landed on the tarmac to this moment as I sit on my blown up mattress with fans a going covered from head to toe in bug spray.
Having spent a full day in Haiti, I am left without words to adequately describe my experiences. I want to say it's wonderful, it's amazing, it's incredible and while all of those are true, it is also gut wrenchingly painful and despairingly sad.
Let's start with the most chaotic and quite incredible airport arrival I have ever experienced...you walk from your plane to a bus which takes you to the immigration area. No big deal right?! Well immigration, baggage claim, and customs are all in the same one room warehouse. There's no defined line for immigration at all so you push your way to the front. And then you move to the one conveyor belt that has all the luggage of all the planes that have arrived. You would think that all luggage from one plane comes together but no that's not the case. You would also think that people wouldn't take luggage off the conveyor belt that didn't belong to then, well that's not true either. You might also think that the building might be air conditioned and that people would be polite. Wrong and wrong. Add a couple of hundred people into the mix and then get ready to fight to find your luggage...two hours later we got to the end of the gauntlet with only one bag missing.
We visited Mother Theresas nutrition center after the airport and were told to take a deep breath before we walked in. We entered a room where cots lined the walls and ran down the center. Some cots were home to two babies and others held just one sicker baby hooked up to an iv. The only instructions we were given was to find a baby pick it up, hold it, and love it. I found George in the last cot starring sadly up. The funny part of this story is that they dress all the babies in dresses because it's easier to change them and so I didnt realize my little George was a boy till oh about five minutes from the end... Gender aside, we became friends and not 10 minutes in, his little body just sank into my chest and his head fell heavy on my heart. He napped peacefully for the rest of the time as I held him and rubbed his little arms. Something as simple as human touch was the gift we were giving. Not remarkable or front page headlining news, but basic and amazingly powerful. When I laid him down in his crib as we were leaving, he began to cry. With every little touch of our hands, the tears would cease and then as i pulled away, tears again. I left him knowing I had so much more to give, feeling guilty for leaving, and brutally aware of where I was leaving him. In that moment, I feel like I got a tiny glimpse into what the love of a parent for a child or God for us might feel like and it was indescribable.
Our journey today took us to St Josephs clinic in the heart of Port au Prince. We passed tent cities and slums and a perfectly crowded, busy, maniacal market morning. The clinic sees up to 600 people some Saturday mornings and though none of us have any medical training, we were on board to help. After a brief stint in medication, I was moved to wounds. And this is where the story becomes out of this world. With gloves on and sterile pads in hand, i was assigned a make shift bed and patients began to appear. The first lady had gotten in a motorcycle accident and had four open, infected wounds on her side. We shuddered as she flinched in pain and we cleaned her wound and dressed it with ointment and bandages. I could not believe I was doing this...and that it was this bad. I convinced myself that we must have jumped right in and started with the worst case and that it would get better from here. I couldn't have been more wrong...it moved from awful to terrible to absolutely horrific. We cleaned wounds of an infected mastectomy and other diabetes related wounds. And then a woman came in asking me to remove bandages from her breast. As I peeled back the bandages, the gauze closest to her body revealed signs of a terrible infection. The smell of rotten skin filled my nostrils and my eyes began to sting as i fought back tears. Her breast, barely recognizable, was almost entirely consumed by an infection most likely caused by cancer. Raw skin, yellowed skin, infection. I could not and still cannot get this image out of my mind. I cleaned the wound as best and as gently as I knew how to, bandaged it up, and gave her some antibiotic cream to go home with. She did not once wince in pain or shed a tear. But I did both. She will probably most likely die from the cancer that has destroyed her breast and I could do nothing to stop that. What I could do was be one person who in that moment cared deeply about making her feel better. If only that was enough....
I am being forced to ask questions of my faith that normally are so easily answered, but here those answers don't seem to fit. Where are you God in all of this? I ask over and over again. I know God is here, at work, but I am blinded by the despair and the suffering. Yes, I have had moments where I have felt Gods presence, but the times when I have tried to reconciling a living, loving God with what I see and feel and found no answer have been far more numerous...
I came here to be challenged, to be taken out of my comfort zone, and it's happening. And it's only just the beginning....
It has been an absolute whirlwind since the moment we landed on the tarmac to this moment as I sit on my blown up mattress with fans a going covered from head to toe in bug spray.
Having spent a full day in Haiti, I am left without words to adequately describe my experiences. I want to say it's wonderful, it's amazing, it's incredible and while all of those are true, it is also gut wrenchingly painful and despairingly sad.
Let's start with the most chaotic and quite incredible airport arrival I have ever experienced...you walk from your plane to a bus which takes you to the immigration area. No big deal right?! Well immigration, baggage claim, and customs are all in the same one room warehouse. There's no defined line for immigration at all so you push your way to the front. And then you move to the one conveyor belt that has all the luggage of all the planes that have arrived. You would think that all luggage from one plane comes together but no that's not the case. You would also think that people wouldn't take luggage off the conveyor belt that didn't belong to then, well that's not true either. You might also think that the building might be air conditioned and that people would be polite. Wrong and wrong. Add a couple of hundred people into the mix and then get ready to fight to find your luggage...two hours later we got to the end of the gauntlet with only one bag missing.
We visited Mother Theresas nutrition center after the airport and were told to take a deep breath before we walked in. We entered a room where cots lined the walls and ran down the center. Some cots were home to two babies and others held just one sicker baby hooked up to an iv. The only instructions we were given was to find a baby pick it up, hold it, and love it. I found George in the last cot starring sadly up. The funny part of this story is that they dress all the babies in dresses because it's easier to change them and so I didnt realize my little George was a boy till oh about five minutes from the end... Gender aside, we became friends and not 10 minutes in, his little body just sank into my chest and his head fell heavy on my heart. He napped peacefully for the rest of the time as I held him and rubbed his little arms. Something as simple as human touch was the gift we were giving. Not remarkable or front page headlining news, but basic and amazingly powerful. When I laid him down in his crib as we were leaving, he began to cry. With every little touch of our hands, the tears would cease and then as i pulled away, tears again. I left him knowing I had so much more to give, feeling guilty for leaving, and brutally aware of where I was leaving him. In that moment, I feel like I got a tiny glimpse into what the love of a parent for a child or God for us might feel like and it was indescribable.
Our journey today took us to St Josephs clinic in the heart of Port au Prince. We passed tent cities and slums and a perfectly crowded, busy, maniacal market morning. The clinic sees up to 600 people some Saturday mornings and though none of us have any medical training, we were on board to help. After a brief stint in medication, I was moved to wounds. And this is where the story becomes out of this world. With gloves on and sterile pads in hand, i was assigned a make shift bed and patients began to appear. The first lady had gotten in a motorcycle accident and had four open, infected wounds on her side. We shuddered as she flinched in pain and we cleaned her wound and dressed it with ointment and bandages. I could not believe I was doing this...and that it was this bad. I convinced myself that we must have jumped right in and started with the worst case and that it would get better from here. I couldn't have been more wrong...it moved from awful to terrible to absolutely horrific. We cleaned wounds of an infected mastectomy and other diabetes related wounds. And then a woman came in asking me to remove bandages from her breast. As I peeled back the bandages, the gauze closest to her body revealed signs of a terrible infection. The smell of rotten skin filled my nostrils and my eyes began to sting as i fought back tears. Her breast, barely recognizable, was almost entirely consumed by an infection most likely caused by cancer. Raw skin, yellowed skin, infection. I could not and still cannot get this image out of my mind. I cleaned the wound as best and as gently as I knew how to, bandaged it up, and gave her some antibiotic cream to go home with. She did not once wince in pain or shed a tear. But I did both. She will probably most likely die from the cancer that has destroyed her breast and I could do nothing to stop that. What I could do was be one person who in that moment cared deeply about making her feel better. If only that was enough....
I am being forced to ask questions of my faith that normally are so easily answered, but here those answers don't seem to fit. Where are you God in all of this? I ask over and over again. I know God is here, at work, but I am blinded by the despair and the suffering. Yes, I have had moments where I have felt Gods presence, but the times when I have tried to reconciling a living, loving God with what I see and feel and found no answer have been far more numerous...
I came here to be challenged, to be taken out of my comfort zone, and it's happening. And it's only just the beginning....
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