This past weekend, I visited the children in the cancer ward. It was the first time I had visited since little Pendo passed away. I wanted to believe that it wouldn't be a problem for me going back. In fact, I didn't have any negative feelings going to the ward at all.....
Then I got there. I acted my usual silly, goofy, funny self, loving on the kids, playing with them, and showing God's love for them. But something was a little off that day. I had brought a volunteer with me, and while I was giving her a tour, I went by all of the places Pendo and I shared our time together. Although in my mind I know she has gone, I could see her in her bed, fighting for her life. That day another one of my little ones was having a difficult time, undergoing painful and frightening treatments. I'll be honest, as I was holding him and comforting him, the one thought I had was: how much longer can I do this? How much longer can I stand idly by and hear their screams, and watch them die? How much longer?
The quick answer is: for as long as I have to. This is hard. I know too darn many of these children. Even though I know to be with the Lord was ultimately what was best for them, I miss them so much. I feel like I am forever in various stages of the grieving process. Just when I think I have it licked, another child dies. It's a difficult, never ending cycle with no beginning and no end. I just thank God that I have a strong support system of therapists, fiends, and chosen family to support me through the difficult times through prayer and fellowship. God knows I can't do this alone.
Monday 19 August 2013
Sunday 11 August 2013
I Chose to Live
I don't remember much about the day I had my accident; mainly because, through the grace of God, I was unconscious through most of it. The only information I have of the incident is what has been relayed to me first hand. I don't remember what season it was, but I do remember it was a cold night in Indiana. Armed with my little chihuahua in my backpack, I was riding my moped without wearing a helmet. Apparently, I attempted to drive through a yellow light that has just turned red as I was going through the intersection. A woman driving a mini van on the opposite side of the intersection didn't see me, and proceeded to continue on through the green light after coming off of the highway. I t-boned her on the passenger side of the vehicle. My head hit the window, and I blacked out instantly.
The next thing I remember was sitting in a field with my father, Peter, who had died of cancer several years earlier. The field was on a cliff, and it was overlooking the largest and most beautiful lake I had ever seen. For a while we didn't speak; we enjoyed watching the sunset in the silence and tranquility of the moment. My father looked more peaceful than I had ever remembered him to be. He still wore the same glasses he had worn almost his entire adult life, but only so I would be able to recognize him. He had no need for them where we were, other than for me to know who he was. He looked at me and told me I had a choice. I could stay where we were and be with him and God, or I could go back to where I had been. He told me God still had a lot of work for me to do. But if I chose to stay where I was, that was alright, too. I could stay and be welcomed without anger, disappointment, or malice. I asked him, if I returned, how it would be for me. I didn't want to live in a vegetative state, mentally incapacitated, or paralyzed. Dad said he couldn't tell me how it was going to be for me. But no matter what happened, I would still have the ability to fulfill God's purpose for me and share God's love, mercy and grace with others who desperately needed it. I loved my father very much and missed him terribly. It would have been so easy for me to choose to stay with him and be with God. But in my heart, I knew the right decision to make. From personal experience, I knew what it was like to be redeemed in God's love, mercy and grace from the absolute pit of self-pity, depression, and emotional hell. The only way I knew to thank God for saving me was to honor His request to be His vessel in doing the same for others. I embraced my father, savoring the moment of feeling small again in his loving and protective arms. I whispered that I would see him again, and I made my decision.
The doctor couldn't believe he was talking to me. I hit my head twice; once on the window and once on the pavement. In both instances, I hit my head on the spot where a head can be hit with no lasting or permanent affects. I had no broken bones, or internal injuries. I wasn't paralyzed. The only lasting effect was a few staples in my scalp. I still carry the scar to this day, and I don't mind. It's a permanent reminder of the day the Lord blessed me with a choice. When times are especially hard, it's there to remind me of the decision I made and motivates me to continue moving forward. I am convinced that if I had chosen to stay with my father, I wouldn't have lived through the incident. But that's not the decision I made. I chose to honor God, despite my fear of the consequences of my actions. I chose to live.
The next thing I remember was sitting in a field with my father, Peter, who had died of cancer several years earlier. The field was on a cliff, and it was overlooking the largest and most beautiful lake I had ever seen. For a while we didn't speak; we enjoyed watching the sunset in the silence and tranquility of the moment. My father looked more peaceful than I had ever remembered him to be. He still wore the same glasses he had worn almost his entire adult life, but only so I would be able to recognize him. He had no need for them where we were, other than for me to know who he was. He looked at me and told me I had a choice. I could stay where we were and be with him and God, or I could go back to where I had been. He told me God still had a lot of work for me to do. But if I chose to stay where I was, that was alright, too. I could stay and be welcomed without anger, disappointment, or malice. I asked him, if I returned, how it would be for me. I didn't want to live in a vegetative state, mentally incapacitated, or paralyzed. Dad said he couldn't tell me how it was going to be for me. But no matter what happened, I would still have the ability to fulfill God's purpose for me and share God's love, mercy and grace with others who desperately needed it. I loved my father very much and missed him terribly. It would have been so easy for me to choose to stay with him and be with God. But in my heart, I knew the right decision to make. From personal experience, I knew what it was like to be redeemed in God's love, mercy and grace from the absolute pit of self-pity, depression, and emotional hell. The only way I knew to thank God for saving me was to honor His request to be His vessel in doing the same for others. I embraced my father, savoring the moment of feeling small again in his loving and protective arms. I whispered that I would see him again, and I made my decision.
The doctor couldn't believe he was talking to me. I hit my head twice; once on the window and once on the pavement. In both instances, I hit my head on the spot where a head can be hit with no lasting or permanent affects. I had no broken bones, or internal injuries. I wasn't paralyzed. The only lasting effect was a few staples in my scalp. I still carry the scar to this day, and I don't mind. It's a permanent reminder of the day the Lord blessed me with a choice. When times are especially hard, it's there to remind me of the decision I made and motivates me to continue moving forward. I am convinced that if I had chosen to stay with my father, I wouldn't have lived through the incident. But that's not the decision I made. I chose to honor God, despite my fear of the consequences of my actions. I chose to live.
Thursday 8 August 2013
Christine
The house seems to be a little more quiet and empty without Christine. There was a lot of time, money and effort involved in having Christine in my home, but I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. I miss her. It broke my heart having to return her to her home in the slums. The anger, guilt and grief were so acute that it was difficult for me to function. All I really could do was pray. I prayed for a day or two about the situation, and asked others to pray for me and for Christine as well. I actually had contemplated bringing Christine to Sophie's Place to live until she died. Ultimately, the Lord helped me come to the decision to continue giving Christine hospice care in her own home. It wasn't an easy decision to make. It would have been so easy for me to just swoop down like a superhero, gather her up and bring her here. But in my heart, I knew that was not what God wanted. I didn't know why God didn't want that for her. For a while, satan was beating on my ego and trying to convince me that the reason God didn't want her here was because God felt I couldn't handle it, or because I was selfish and didn't want the responsibility. I do admit that part of my decision was based on the fact that it would be very difficult and risky for me to have a Kenyan die in my home. Part of me was afraid of the ramifications and backlash. However, as always, God's amazing love and grace helped me see the bigger picture beyond myself and my circumstances. Once again I have humbly learned, it's not all about me.
Christine is now going to have a myriad of women, all different ages and different walks of life, bringing all different kinds of gifts and talents, surrounding her, loving her, praying for her, and supporting her. Women from all over the world will come to share God's love, mercy and grace. If I am to be completely honest, I don't believe Christine could have received the full magnitude of benefits from the experience if she had stayed at Sophie's.
Every single encounter I have with a dying person brings with it a wealth of knowledge and insight that is more valuable to me than any other gift I have ever received. I was so angry when the hospital refused to admit Christine. I knew God had a reason, but I couldn't see it. Now I know. Her body was not meant to be healed; it was her heart and her spirit that needed the healing. Whatever God chooses for Christine, she will know she is loved. She will get to experience God's unconditional love in such a way that she couldn't experience any other way than where she is right now. Christine taught me that we are never alone in our desires to share God's love, mercy and grace to help heal each other. We are all part of the healing process. Loneliness and aloneness are very potent and very dangerous tools of satan to deter us from God's plan. Not only because the task before us might seem daunting and insurmountable. But also because, in taking on the task ourselves, we readily dismiss the God given gifts and talents of others when we try to do things on our own. By ignoring the gifts and talents of others, we prevent the Holy Spirit from displaying its full potential of unconditional love, mercy and grace. Not only for the affected person, but also for the many people involved in the caring and sharing.
This week, the enemy socked me in the stomach with guilt, shame and remorse. He tried to beat me down. And he tried to beat Christine down. But, at the end of the day, God's love, mercy and grace won, as it always does, and we are all stronger for the experience. We are all precious in the eyes of the Lord. To believe anything else is not God's will for us. Nothing, nothing done in God's favor is ever done in vain. Absolutely no amount of giving, big small or in between, is ever wasted. It may not be God's will to heal Christine's body. But He is healing her heart and her spirit through the unconditional love, mercy and grace of an amazing group of women we are so blessed to have on this earth.
"Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised,"
-Proverbs, 31:30
Christine is now going to have a myriad of women, all different ages and different walks of life, bringing all different kinds of gifts and talents, surrounding her, loving her, praying for her, and supporting her. Women from all over the world will come to share God's love, mercy and grace. If I am to be completely honest, I don't believe Christine could have received the full magnitude of benefits from the experience if she had stayed at Sophie's.
Every single encounter I have with a dying person brings with it a wealth of knowledge and insight that is more valuable to me than any other gift I have ever received. I was so angry when the hospital refused to admit Christine. I knew God had a reason, but I couldn't see it. Now I know. Her body was not meant to be healed; it was her heart and her spirit that needed the healing. Whatever God chooses for Christine, she will know she is loved. She will get to experience God's unconditional love in such a way that she couldn't experience any other way than where she is right now. Christine taught me that we are never alone in our desires to share God's love, mercy and grace to help heal each other. We are all part of the healing process. Loneliness and aloneness are very potent and very dangerous tools of satan to deter us from God's plan. Not only because the task before us might seem daunting and insurmountable. But also because, in taking on the task ourselves, we readily dismiss the God given gifts and talents of others when we try to do things on our own. By ignoring the gifts and talents of others, we prevent the Holy Spirit from displaying its full potential of unconditional love, mercy and grace. Not only for the affected person, but also for the many people involved in the caring and sharing.
This week, the enemy socked me in the stomach with guilt, shame and remorse. He tried to beat me down. And he tried to beat Christine down. But, at the end of the day, God's love, mercy and grace won, as it always does, and we are all stronger for the experience. We are all precious in the eyes of the Lord. To believe anything else is not God's will for us. Nothing, nothing done in God's favor is ever done in vain. Absolutely no amount of giving, big small or in between, is ever wasted. It may not be God's will to heal Christine's body. But He is healing her heart and her spirit through the unconditional love, mercy and grace of an amazing group of women we are so blessed to have on this earth.
"Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised,"
-Proverbs, 31:30
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