Dressing changes with these three have been difficult. It is a painful process, even with strong medication. Today, the father of the littlest one, N., came with her. As he was holding her down while she received her shot of meds, she began screaming.
AAAAAABB-BBBBA!!! AAAAAABB-BBBBA!!! (DADDY!!! DADDY!!!!)
There are many words for 'father' in Hausa . . . one being Abba.
As I stood there waiting for her to drift off to sleep, I began to think about little N. shrieking in pain and fear for her daddy. And how he did nothing to stop the situation. In fact, he said nothing to her as he held her down while we inflicted more pain.
He held her there, because he knew that what we doing was good for her. Yes it hurt. And I could see in his eyes that he was acutely aware of her pain. But what caused her pain would help make her well again. Yes she was afraid. But he was there, with her, even if he did not intervene.
Standing there washing her wounds, cutting away infected tissue, and putting on new bandages, I began to identify with my little six year old friend, N., screaming out to my Abba in fear and pain and wondering why He seemingly does nothing to stop the situation. Why He seemingly does not answer. Why He seemingly does not intervene. Why He allows certain things to continue.
There comes a point in the Disciple-life where the children of Abba must learn to trust in the midst of the fear and pain. That even if our screams are met with silence, we are not alone . . . we have not been abandoned. This, now, is for our good.