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.
