Worship in the Ward

On Sunday mornings, the chaplain team puts together a worship service on the wards. It gives the patients an opportunity to worship, the crew is encouraged to join too. It is probably one of the most powerful spiritual experiences I have ever had. When I feel moved, I begin to show physical signs of emotion and will tear up. My eyes were full of tears as I worshiped in B ward.  Many patients made their way from their post op beds to hobble down the hall to join in.  Most had their bandages/dressings/drains/IV's still intact. The worship was full of singing, clapping and dancing. It was powerful. I loved it. I couldn't understand any of the songs, but I didn't need to. I am moved by the spirit of the Congolese people, they are unstoppable! They refuse to complain of pain and to show any signs of weakness.  The two year old boy I cared for was quickly sitting up post extubation, trying to get down off the bed to walk. They eat as soon as we will let them, usually within hours of many surgeries (depending on what was operated on). They were present, clapping, singing, and worshiping with smiles.

I saw many patients I knew from D ward. Including two mamas with babies in D ward. One Mama was Mama to the little guy I had been taking care of. The other was of a little girl who had a similar tumor as the little boy.  The little boy was awake and alert breathing with ease.  Clapping along with the service. The little girl however, was still struggling to breathe. Her tumor was not a surgery we were able to provide, it was growing too fast and she was too sick.

Karyn was at the service too and experienced the worship in a similar way. I borrowed her writing, because she captured what I was feeling so well.  

The most heart wrenching sight however, was directly in front of me - I simply couldn't escape it.  I'm not a crier, at least not in front of people, but I had to bite my lip more than once to keep it from quivering during that time of worship.  I would love to say I just had some dust in my eye, or try to chalk it up to the "new away from home environment," but I'm pretty sure the Guy upstairs was trying to let me know He was present.

In front of me sat two women - both mothers of young children who had been looked after in D Ward.  Both exhausted from sleepless nights as they made sure their child continued to breathe.  Both just beginning a journey neither expected to face when they brought their child into this world.  One mother held her son who had just received a life saving surgery during the week to remove a tumor from his oral cavity.  It had grown so much that it was blocking his airway and breathing had become a tiring task.  I have never seen retractions as impressive as the ones he experienced.  When I first met him he could barely keep his eyes open, as he was using all his strength to pull air in and push it out of his little body again.  There wasn't really a word that could adequately describe his "noisy breathing," it was like nothing I had witnessed.  But when he went quiet, the still in the air made all of us hold our breath, until he startled himself and struggled to continue to inhale.  I honestly believe his surgery could not have waited another day.  And there he sat perched on his mothers lap - eyes wide open, breathing easy for the first time in months.  He was quickly learning how to become the wiggle worm healthy little boys are supposed to be.  And there sat his mother - eyes closed clapping the loudest to the music - rejoicing and worshiping a wonderful God.  She just had this committed faith that was amazing to watch pour out.

My eyes wandered a couple feet over and there stood another mother with her young baby wrapped on her back.  Just two days earlier, she had learned that there was nothing Mercy Ships could do for her child.  Her child also had a large tumor in her mouth that seemed to progressively worsen.  Her battle was quite similar to the other child's in that each breath in was just as difficult as it was to push out.  Her body often sat limp against her mother, as she couldn't lay down because the tumor would push against her airway and breathing would be impossible.  Over the weekend the nurses on the ward worked tirelessly to keep her comfortable, wanting so bad to free her from the pain she endured.  And there was her mother, bouncing her child in her Sunday dress, clapping along with the music.  She wasn't angry or pleading with the Lord, but instead expressed her love for Him.  There was this trust in her eyes that was simply overwhelming.

Two extremes sitting side by side, each with a strength that made me wipe that dust from my eyes.

Read Karyn's whole story here

The next morning, the little girl gave up her struggle. She simply could not continue to breathe with such effort any longer. Her nurse that day was a blessing to her and to the ward, please read her story,  here.