Yesterday was one of the hardest visit days that I've had. My heart had been heavy all week about the loss of a long time patient and then, we were unexpectedly called to see one of our patients grandsons. Four years old, holding onto life with every breath. Parents sitting by waiting for death. For whatever reason of darkness they have lost their parental fight. To make it worse, in their dark state, they've likely hastened death by using witch craft and false prophecy-- paying large sums of money and then telling us they don't have the few dollars necessary to utilize the local hospital.
I shook with anger. Words were flying from my tongue-- if the parents won't fight for him then we must. And, what about the other 15 family members that had gathered around waiting for death? My righteous anger boiled!
These events of the week broke me. I cried.
I sat and cried, tired of the fight, tired of decisions that others make and there affects. Though I know what we do is of most importance, sometimes I'm tired.
And in my tired state I said "Lord, it's too much..." and He, as he graciously does, he reminded me that...
"Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy." Psalm 126:5
And that, dear friends, is enough to know that we must keep going. Sometimes we are the only ones that seem to care. And often my day may end with nursing notes that turn to prayers simply stating...
Please Lord-- we fight for his life!
