To She Who is Faithful

-

IMG_0612

 

The sight and smell of the wound haunting my thoughts the moment I saw it…...lasting days beyond the visualization.   My brain was scanning files of wound care ideas tucked away in my brain.  Never in my 20 (gulp) years of nursing had I seen such a mess of decaying, dehisced, tissue.  Even with the abundant choices of wound care bandages in America and medicines, this wound seemed beyond bandages.  Never mind the fact that here in Papua it appears that the wound supplies are limited too: Betadine, antibiotic powder, thin stringy gauze and….well that about sums it up. 

The doctor at the local hospital explained to the lady she needed a mastectomy.  The missionary family who knew the lady, just asked if I would come to evaluate the situation.  Before she even lifted her shirt, the breast was 3X the size of the other, the pooling blood in her lap and the stench of decay told me that her problem was in need of a miracle.  I urged her to follow the doctors advice.  Explaining in broken Indonesian that no bandage could heal her wound.

She listened with the sweetest smile.  For the hour I was with her, that smile and peace never left her face.  She assured me that God would take care of her.  I tried to argue that sometimes God uses men to help take care of us.  With blood pooling in her lap, she continued to smile politely and reiterate that God would provide.  So we talked about washing the wound and keeping it clean and dry.  We talked about if she needed money for the surgery, that we could help.  And then we prayed.

Prayer has always been my favorite part of nursing care.  Though I don’t like to do it without serving and listening first.  I have no doubt that my prayers change and affect me, way more then they help my patients, but I know that God does help my dear patients also.   So as I prayed for her, I marveled at her simple faith and I hope that I will be found as faithful as she.

IMG_0596

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Last Flight

-
Image
Bob and his daughter, Stephanie, flying on a different day in Papua . Jan and Bob It was another ordinary Wednesday in Papua.  The rain had come down all night.  Leaving the runway soggy.  6 a.m. I had finished reading my Bible and I hear Bob take off on first flight.  I think, “Wow, he is early this morning!”  Then the typical morning craziness starts in my house.  The cooking of a hot breakfast.  Packing school lunches.  Signing forms.  Arranging pick ups.  Off to school.  Exercise.  Home. Unfortunately, the freezer has frozen over so much that the door is on longer sealing.  It’s a forced, defrost the freezer day.  Out comes all the food.  Towels are laid everywhere.  Drip. Drip.  Jacob is on his 3rd day of not feeling well.  It has been a week of no routine.  No home school.  POP a video into the DVD player for Jacob and lucky little brother to watch.  I go into the office...
Read more

Change Never Happens Fast, Except Today it Did

-
Image
Today (Wednesday, Nov. 1),  Darron and Gary were leaving on an afternoon flight to the Philippines.  The nicer of our two cars had just been picked up from the repair shop ( it was an alternator this time).  They are at that stage.  Always, something falling apart.  With the mission mobile, we can’t complain.  It is 21 years old!!!!  Darron just popped down to the hanger to fill up the tires with air and I heard him pip the horn at the gate, to indicate he was read to go to the airport.  Yet, he had a different message.  The tire needed repaired…..or more probably replaced. Groan.  There is ONE thing, I disdain as a woman and that is handling car problems.  It’s hard enough to do it in your home country and a language you are fluent in.  Try doing it in a foreign country.  Also to me, it is a MANS world.  If you want to plop me in my discomfort zone, tell me I have to get the car fixed. So off we drive.  Air hiss...
Read more

Anguished Hearts

-
Image after image flashes through my mind.  I see little but “growing bigger and stronger” two and half year old Azarya coming towards me on the gravel runway.  Wanting to give me a high five and nothing warms my heart more.  Knowing that this is the little boy who drank his way back to life with goats milk.  More images of all over campus this little boy waving at me and smiling shyly, running and playing like normal children should.  Every time I saw him, I rejoiced in the second chance that Jesus had given him.  More images of being with his Mommy and Daddy and their JOY and gratefulness in Ayarya’s strength and change as he transformed before their eyes from being severely malnourished to vibrant.  Ida, his Mommy, is my closest Papua friend, and I see so many images of her and I chatting and laughing together and enjoying her new fat little baby boy, now two months old.  Despite that Ida was still morning the unexpected loss of her father and ...
Read more