10 April 2012

Lessons From My Giant Shoe

This afternoon I tried to express a bit of a journey I've been processing for the past six months or so.  In my post, I mentioned washing the face of a four-year-old little girl.  She was admitted to our hospital in the wee hours of the morning today, along with her older brother and her uncle.  She and her brother had been sent, along with two cousins, to a small shop to pick up some seasoning their mom needed to cook.  Their uncle waited outside.

According to the story, there were some bottles of gasoline in side the small shop . . . and somehow, there was an explosion.  With the four kiddos inside.

The uncle ran in and was able to pull the siblings out, catching himself on fire in the process.  The two cousins did not survive.

By the time I got back to the hospital after lunch, this little girl I had cared for only hours before had died.


As we debrided her burns and cleaned the wounds that covered her face, arms, hands and legs, we had prayed that her life would be spared and her recovery complete.

When I walked onto the ward, I saw the bed beside her brother was empty.  I turned to the mom of another patient, 'Where is she?' I asked, already knowing the answer, but hoping I was wrong.

'She has gone.  She is with God.'

My heart wanted to scream out loud: DON'T YOU HAVE ENOUGH?!  YOU NEEDED THIS ONE TOO?!

Instead, my body stood there numb.

Without realizing it, I slid my left foot from my Birkenstock and my toes began playing with the leather strap.  My thoughts shot back and forth across a ping-pong table: how could this happen . . . you knew she would die . . . such a young little girl . . . you knew the moment you saw her this morning . . . she could have been a miracle . . . the miracle was that she made it to the hospital.

I was paralyzed by my internal debate.

But just as I was about to ask Jesus where He is and when He's finally going to show up and part the waters, I was startled back to my surroundings.

A soft warmth rubbed against my left foot.

I shot a downward glance expecting to find a creepy-crawly.  Instead, Little H. was by my side, slipping his miniature toes into my giant shoe.

As he smiled up at me, I felt the Holy Spirit whisper, 'Deb. you want to know where I am . . . I am already here.  Look around at the miracles I have already worked.  See the bodies I am healing.  I was here before you came, and I will be here after you leave.'

3 comments:

Sarah Fountain said...

I'm glad that the Holy Spirit spoke to you in your time of questioning and doubt.  I wanted to reply to your earlier post with something from Job - saying, in essence, that even if God were to explain His plan to us we wouldn't be able to understand.  But, not surprisingly, He used H. to touch you more effectively than I could.  You'll be in our prayers.

Linda Thomas said...

You've brought a tear to my eye.  GOD has brought a tear to my eye. You and He are totally amazing.

Linda

Bobnrobn said...

Keep on truckin'.....and using those toes!!!  What a comfort to have 'H' around.....xoxoxoxo