Big Hands, Little Hands

Light bullied its way through the window this morning, long before I was ready for it. I rolled over and willed my eyeballs open. 6:45? “Are you kidding me?” I said out loud. “Why am I awake?!” I was never able to keep myself in bed for very long after waking up, so after making a quick mental list of the 75 things I had to do before getting back in bed, I was standing. “Oh look! A nice new patch of flea bites! Awesome.”

The toothpaste was cold and the water was colder. My teeth like them cold. Hoodie, water glass, vitamin C…yes indeed I am ready to meet the morning. I found a lonely leftover pancake in the kitchen. “Dibs on this!” I declared as I headed out the door. I don’t know why we always put syrup on these when they’re so good by themselves!

I taxied to the clinic and found maybe 40 sitting people lined up outside the clinic gate. As I approached they all stood to their feet and rushed the door. As I came closer they pressed into me, each trying to make their case to take priority in the line. I ducked into the yard where more people were lying on benches inside.

A man named Mike pushed his way through the gate. “Kayla I need you.” “You have to wait in line with everyone else, Mike.” I need to get my guard a bigger stick…

“I will take 25!” I yelled to the guard with the little stick. “Let only 25 people inside.” I closed the door behind me and set up the room.

Before I was ready, an elderly woman volunteered herself to be first and forced open the door. She hobbled into the exam room in bare calloused feet. Her back hurt. Not many American elderly know life without ibuprofen, and most of us young people take it for granted. But here, a little baggie of ibuprofen can make all the difference. She bestowed enough blessings for the rest of my life on her way out the door.

The next patient was even older. He came in leaning on a metal cane. His beard was grey and haggard. A dirty knitted cap covered his head, and he did not smile though blackened teeth. He smelled terrible. When he walked by me, I turned around to hide my expression. His right pant leg was wet down to the ankle. Even his sandal was wet. He said he couldn’t hold his pee. He also had a cough. I listened to his lungs and gave him cough medicine. I can’t do anything for his incontinence.

I saw twenty-five patients that day. A baby with chicken pox, a near blind man with holes in his shoes that were so big that I could see he had no toes, a small child whose head bled from a rock wound he suffered in a fight, and lepers with coughs and stomach aches. A young woman came in holding her son who is less than one month old. Her name is Tigist. His name is Natan. She doesn’t have a husband. She doesn’t have other children. She doesn’t have money to pay her rent, much less to feed a child. She wanted to give him to me right then. Natan was a beautiful and healthy child. I asked her if she would keep him if I could get her work and a sponsor. She said she would. Please pray that we can find her those things.

Broken hearts, broken bodies, broken lives everywhere. I can only do so much. Sometimes what God has put in my hands to do seems so little. But then, my hands are also little. God only gives me what I can handle. I love the song, “He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands”. What big hands He has! He’s got you and me brother. He’s got you and me sister. He’s got the tiny little baby. He’s got Natan.

He’s got the whole world in His hands.