Some people say we're not sure if there's a light at the end of his tunnel. That's in regards to Hubert's time here on earth, of course, but the light of earth is all we know. Sure we get glimpses of heaven, but at least for me, it's never enough to feel ok with sending a child there. There is always a small part of me when a child dies that feels the wrongness and raw grief of it, regardless of how they may be tortured here on earth.
I've become familiar with death and grief. Like most Americans, my daily life is sheltered from death. Dying is something that happens in hospitals and nursing homes. But I do see it at work and have had to grapple with it there constantly. During one particularly tough time for me in the PICU, my mom said to me that sometimes our job isn't to fix but instead to bear witness to a life. Let's be honest, though- we'd rather cry tears of joy (inwardly or outwardly) and watch a patient walk out completely healed... not sympathize and usher a family through that door and send them on their journey of grief.
Many of us come here expecting to be God's hands of healing. In light of all of our successes and celebrations, we forget we're here for hope and healing. And sometimes hope is the most sincere thing we can give. Hope for peace. Hope for love. Hope for true healing.
Halfway through our Saturday night Scrubs marathon, a handful of us walked quietly down the hall past the ICU where little Hubert is now on the ventilator. It seemed natural, given how heavily his plight is weighing on all of us. We sat on a few beds of C ward. The "Joy ward." The "VVF palace." It's a ward I hear lives up to its name- joyful. And so it felt odd to be there with some friends gathered to pray for the little boy who has touched us so deeply, to plead for his life.
It was beautiful. Five nurses and my roommate prayed for half an hour. We sat there in the dimly lit ward, pouring out our hearts before each other and God. We did the difficult dance of pleading for what we selfishly want while acknowledging the ultimate importance of what will further His kingdom. We know the medical-ese. We overwhelmingly know the pain of watching a child fight an uncertain battle. I couldn't get enough of it. I wanted to pour that vibrant and abundant life into Hubert's broken little body next door. When my roommate started praying in German- English as a second language is even more inadequate for such a deep struggle- we were all reminded that God is more than we imagine him to be in our jobs back home as we silently throw up prayers for our sick patients.
The power and importance of prayer is a recurring theme for me here. I've always felt that throwing up a few words to The Man is inferior to actually doing something. I realize that's offensive, and I realize it's a shortcoming of mine. But I'm truly honest with myself, I don't believe in the power of prayer, not in my core of my being. I want to, but I don't. If I did, I would ask God boldly for what I want- for the deeply personal and important things in my life. Wouldn't you? This is why I pray for God to be glorified however Hubert's life plays out when what I really want is for him to grow up to proclaim it himself.
A new friend who actually isn't here on the ship but serving in an equally important mission has been a wonderful email friend lately. She shared her challenge given in James 1:5-9. I find myself agreeing with her, mutually struggling with double-mindedness and doubt. She said, "for some stupid reason, I've spent much of my life thinking my doubting God giving me wisdom was, well, humble.... It's straight up wrong. I'm replacing it with the firm belief that Yahweh hears and is pleased with my prayer for wisdom." When she talked about how David trusted completely and off-handedly mentioned that he didn't do some voodoo dance before cracking Goliath's skull open, I was reminded me of the importance of this lesson now. Voodoo. It's something we're struggling with daily... and especially with little Hubert.
Is it wise to pray for little Hubert to win the fight for his life? Or is it wise to be more noncommittal, hiding behind the easy answer of settling for what will ultimately glorify God?
Admitting our dreams- noble, good, and faithful dreams- doesn't stop them from being shattered, does it?
I tend to think that we can freely ask whatever we want from God, but it's more the spirit we ask with. Like if when you were a girl you asked your mom for a sandwich b/c you were hungry, but you weren't sure she'd give you a sandwich b/c you doubted her love for you. But what if your mom opted not to give you the sandwich b/c you were to have major surgery in 2 hours, and she'd been given strict instructions by the doctor not to let you have food for x# of hours before (you're the nurse, that's your forte)...then your mother is good in not giving you the sandwich. And you might not understand as a little girl why you didn't get your sandwich, but you trust that your mother loves you more than you know and always has the best in mind. Of course, a sandwich and your mom are entirely too simple explanations for God and the earthly life of a little boy, but I think maybe God is still pleased with our requests even when they might be contradictory to His will as long as we trust in His love during the asking. Anyway, I, too, will be asking our Good Father to heal Hubert.
ReplyDelete