How can there be too many children? That is like saying there are too many flowers. ~Mother Teresa~ |
The first time I went to Children’s Hospital I got
lost. It was fall and the rain turned everything grey. Culture shock hung off me like a
trench coat, heavy and physically limiting.
When I realized I would have to drive a six lane highway to get there I
almost lost my nerve. Off ramps where a
new experience in my world and I lived in fear of exiting the freeway by
accident, only to end up 2 states removed from my original destination.
Thanks to map quest (remember when we used to print out
directions?) I planned my route and made it to the campus on the edge of
Seattle. My miraculous victory was short
lived, I remember sitting in the parking lot, two littles in the car, crying
because I was supposed to be the functional adult. I felt uncertain, unqualified and unprepared. It was horrible.
Summoning my nerve, I grabbed my cotton clad poppets and
stuffed their sweet chubbiness into strollers and harnesses. Sippy cups and cheerios were slung into their
appropriate holsters on my person as I turned toward the building to do battle
with my fears. Drying my eyes, I hid my
face in my baby’s hair, took a deep breath of her fresh soapy scent and walked
through the doors that slid open as I approached.
The presence of God is a difficult thing to describe. Mostly it’s because people who are foolish
enough to use those words are an odd bunch who shout hallelujah at weird times
and wear a lot of denim. I’m going to try not to go there. But when I walked into the hospital, I felt a
peace descend over my fear and I could breathe again.
I still must have looked rough because I was asked six times
between the parking lot and the 4th floor if I knew where I was
going. Each time, my answer was the
same, “No, not really.” My eyes would
start to sting again and I would blink furiously trying not to cry as hot tears
escaped anyway off my nose and onto my baby’s head. Scolding myself furiously for my tears, I
detoured to the bathroom in order to cry in a stall: the huge one, with the
space for a small excavator. Soon tears
were a luxury I couldn’t afford as I battled my nylons, baby front pack and my baby’s
sock that, due to an uncanny sense of timing, came off her foot and got lost
somewhere in my skivvies.
I was an emotional wreck with a baby sock lost in my
knickers.
The day was unforgettable for the wonderfully awful way it
started. It became an awfully wonderful
day because I had discovered a community of amazing people. I have returned several times over the past
decade and each time, been touched by the amazing staff and family’s that grace
its halls. I am grateful I was referred
there so many years ago. After a few
visits this month, I wanted to say thank you to those who work with children in
particular. I have friends who foster
children from broken families and those who nurse them back to health in their
times of illness. Courage and
steadfastness are not the half of it.
I am thankful for your ministry.
Thank you for your faithful service. Ministering to sick children isn’t for cowards. Sometimes I hide in my community, doing
battle with illness and death only when it is absolutely necessary. I counter it with prayer and casseroles not
knowing what to say and retreating whenever possible. Thank God there are those who battle daily
with gauze, sutures and hope. I came
face to face with the reality of long term illness at my last visit, as a sweet
child came round the corner in pajama clad feet, sucking her thumb as the nurse
took her for a wagon ride down the hall.
It felt like she rolled over my heart as she came by. I was profoundly thankful for those who
minister to these little ones. For their courage to continue to care for such
children.
I have been impressed too, by their kindness. Crisis has a way of bringing out harsh words
and short tempers. Yet this group of
caregivers seems graced with the ability to bring gentle words to frayed hearts
and minds. Their continued patience with
families who are stretched beyond their ability to cope is amazing.
If you are someone who works with little
people, I wanted to thank you for your ministry and to remind you that the Lord
sees your sacrifice. I’m not certain
what we would do without those who care for children in difficulty, our world
is richer for your service.
Kindness is just love with its work boots on. ~unknown~
I am praying for you this week and always,
Karen