Sorting through a mind that is out of sorts

You've probably read all over the Mercy Ships blogosphere by now that we withdrew life support on Hubert Monday morning. The outcome was inevitable, and sometimes it's nice to humbly acknowledge that and be thankful for the small blessing of being able to arrange things in time for a peaceful passing. He died quickly and it was a beautiful transition in the arms of his father. That's actually a big statement- in the arms of his father. See, his parents had not officially "claimed" him, as evidenced by his smooth cheeks. His sweet sister has the telltale three vertical scars on each cheek from some Voodoo rite of passage into the family.

Not only did Hubert's father hold him as he went, but mama was grieving appropriately. I've made mention of that fact only a handful of times in my nursing career. Usually it's because there's cause for concern over the bonding- be it due to abuse, neglect, or whatever. In Hubert's case, it's important to note because it was there. Mama's genuine grief indicates that we were able to facilitate at least some bonding- that alone is a victory. Not only that, but she spent the days leading up to his death praying and singing over his failing body. Mama cried and wept for a child she had previously not bestowed the acknowledgment of true life upon.

What did we accomplish? I'm not entirely sure, and I'll never know completely. I wasn't one of the nurses closest to his care, but even I can see that our validation of his life and importance was shown through our medical care and constant fawning over him. When your baby has been branded as demon-possessed, I have to imagine seeing a community not just tolerate but love him has some sort of impact. Not being a mother myself, I have to imagine that regardless of culture, you feel the sacred connection to the being you gave birth to.

She went against her culture's teachings and brought Hubert to Mercy Ships after all.

Now comes the broader part of the process that is twofold, the "debrief." What did we learn- about the person, the family, the community, the care? Those are always important for validation, education, and future care. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, what have we learned about the character of God?

Why would I expect God to swoop in and save the day any more often here on the Africa Mercy than any hospital? Sure, I'm in a community where we can openly pray, petition, and praise him, but why would I expect that to change the nature of His interactions in the world? Maybe because we feel closer we somehow conclude he'll become more visible in the way we presume he should be- miraculous healings and such. Which of course is wrong because he's already here. I'm the one who moved in the first place and am simply coming back. Instead, maybe healthcare here just draws us closer into community. We find ourselves in the ever-present power struggle found in healthcare, only this time we're actively searching for God in the process- together.

I'm learning the importance of not just community, but Christian community. Something about living, fellowshipping, and playing with a multinational crew on a ship in Africa alone is reason enough to learn about community. Add in the part of working with patients that deeply grab and sometimes break your heart... well, it's just that much more intense. More attitudes and presumptions and judgements to be dealt with. The Christian community isn't as homogeneous as some people might think. The difference is that we are urged to live accountable for our thoughts and actions and to encourage others as well for the love of God. For For his glory. It's difficult and requires grace from everyone. The fallout from Hubert's situation finds us all dealing with it individually and as a group. This lifestyle is leading us to lean on and draw from God in new ways.

I'm reminded (again) that in the end, maybe it's not the simple outcomes of life and death that matter but the quality of both that matter. And I'm learning that it's not only just ok, but we're encouraged to "storm the gates of heaven" until the very end for something miraculous. After all, we did get several miracles and the gift of life... just not the life we so selfishly wanted.