One Friday morning, like so many others days that I have spent treating patients in the HIV clinic, young men and women and children filled the corridors, waiting patiently to be seen and treated. Although critically ill, most had walked for miles or were carried on the back of bicycles to reach the clinic.
The human emotions that fill this little clinic, every time the doors are opened, are impossible to capture in statistics or words. Each person possesses their own story, their own struggles. They are so much more than the labels that have been placed upon them. Terms like orphan, child-headed household, widow, commercial-sex worker, AIDS patient tell their story merely in part. Within every patient, there is brokenness and beauty that is difficult to describe. Children of God, created in His very image, sit before me. Many are unaware of their worth; but underneath the disguises of poverty and disease, I catch glimpses of what is holy.
This is what I witnessed when Lameck was carried into the exam room. Child-like and totally dependent upon others for his existence, his body was wasted and his mind confused. I cannot estimate how long it had been since he had been bathed; but with a smile on his face, he kept repeating the name of Jesus. A neighbor had carried Lameck to the clinic and reported that he had been abandoned by his family and was left to die alone. As I discussed Lameck’s situation with another provider, I was struck by the hospital referral note that was written: “Abandoned- in need of a home.” My heart was, and continues to be, dissatisfied with this suffering and injustice.
I was reminded that there was no place that Jesus was not willing to go for the sake of love. Subjected to poverty, suffering and death, he chose to come to this broken world and for living out the answer to these questions: Shall I ransom them from the power of Sheol? Shall I redeem them from death? Jesus proved forever that love is as strong as death. And with the mystery of the cross, death was swallowed up in victory. One day, God will wipe away all of our tears; but until then, he catches each one. My prayer is that He will show me the salve that will heal the gaping wounds which cover wasted bodies. With each word and touch, let wrecked hearts be made whole by the power of His love. As St. Francis of Assisi prayed, I ask:
LORD,
Make me an instrument of your health;
where there is sickness, let me bring cure;
where there is injury, aid;
where there is suffering, ease;
where there is sadness, comfort;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is death, acceptance and peace.
GRANT that I may not:
so much seek to be justified, as to console;
to be obeyed, as to understand;
to be honored, as to love…
for it is in giving ourselves that we heal,
it is in listening that we comfort,
and in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Prayer of St. Francis (Modified by Charles C. Wise)
Thank you for being a part of this journey.