Life-changing:30 AM

Sometimes, I have this unrealistic mindset that once the Lord has taught me something once, I think I learned it well enough and He won't have to teach me the same lesson again. Key-word: UNREALISTIC
Last Monday morning started at 6 AM with a sunrise over the volcano and anxiousness/excitement to start my first day at the hospital. First let me say, I LOVE scrubs. Guess that means I chose the right career. I got to that streets of gold color building 30 minutes early (per usual) and sat outside, read a John Piper devo and prayed.

I read:
"We must pursue JOY in God if we are to glorify Him as the surpassingly valuable reality in the universe. Joy is not a mere option alongside worship. It is an essential component of worship."
- John Piper

If it ain't perfect, I don't know what is. I had no idea that part 2 of JOYaus lessons by Jesus was about to happen. 

7:59 AM: I walked in to a large hall packed with malnourished, sick, in need Guatemalans waiting to get medical attention. I had to get to what seemed like a mile long at the other end of the hall. Was I going to place my hand over my mouth like a diva and stand out even more, or was I going to "go and do likewise"? My hands must have been tied without me knowing because I just sucked it up and weaved through the crowd praying "please don't let me get sick".

8:03 AM: I got to the office to find that they had misplaced my picture so they did not make my ID card. Not to mention, the english speaker was not there yet and I had only had one spanish lesson as this point. After talking span-glish, the sweet lady got it made and took me back through the chaos of coughs, sneezes and diseases to show me where I would be working. 

8:20 AM: I see a group of 61 wheel chairs filled with 61 absent-parented children. The kids were drooling, twitching, some screaming, some laughing, and some in pain. "Am I going to be able to do this? I do not do well if I cannot communicate with a child. I have never worked with handicapped children that are this severe." Truth was, I had no option. 

Life-changing: 30 AM: After a few more steps, I was handed a spoon and bowl of what appeared to be a pureed mixture of beans, chocolate, grits and bread. My nose has never smelled something as such. I am the pickiest person in the world. Goodbye comfort zone. I began feeding my first live-in patient, Rosibelly. Shaved head, bone-thin (literally), covered in drool and weeping. Can I be honest? I was flat out disgusted, y'all. I did not want to touch the spoon, smell the food or clean the child's mouth after it got everywhere. "Go and do likewise, Shel, go and do likewise." If I had to guess, Rosibelly was a 6-year old boy. I began feeding him with my nose turned up and those awful facial expressions. (Same facials I do when I do not like something, friends.) A tear dropped in the bowl of bean-coco-grit-bread. I was weeping. Again. Truth is, I was being humbled. I was learning something I thought I learned this summer but for sure, last weekend. JOY IN SUFFERING. Rosi, which I found out a few hours later is a 15 year old blind girl, was suffering. Rosi was also joyful. Selfish sinner, Shelby was suffering because she was WAY out of her comfort zone, but she learned joyfulness, too. My suffer was NOTHING compared to the suffer that she knows.

Rosi sneezed and coughed quite a few times. Shelby was covered in that mixture that I will not describe again. Just when I thought I was out of my comfort zone, I had to brush 28 kids teeth. Next it was time to get some of the kids out of their intense wheel chairs and cuddle with them, drool and all. Most of them cannot hold their head up because of spinal issues they were born with or from abuse. Goodbye comfort zone. Time for diaper changes. Their diapers consist of towels with a rope to hold it around their frail bodies. Goodbye comfort zone. Oh and I failed to mention, I couldn't go to the bathroom because it is BYOTP at the hospital… Bring Your Own Toilet Paper. Again, goodbye comfort zone.

The only way I could describe it on Skype with Mama and Daddy was, it was the hardest yet best day of my life so far. I could not stop smiling, y'all. I felt guilty for a second because how could I smile after seeing what I just saw? I know how. Because I got a little closer to understanding what it means to smile in the midst of my suffering. I was smiling because it was such a reminder that I am in the midst of God's will even in my suffering. So are YOU. Embrace it. Find joy there. 

That was Monday, how has the rest of the week been? 

It has been hard. Humbling. Great. Joyful. I am falling in love with these kids. I could go on. But one thing you should know, it is NOT all of a sudden easy after Monday's lessons. I still have my moments where I have to talk myself through it. Pretty often actually. I am not sure that it will ever be easy, but that is ok. I am quickly realizing that the nurses are there for the money, 2,000 Quetzals a month which is $247.30 American dollars. NOTHING. They are so rough with these precious children. They bring their issues and frustrations to work. They are tired. The list goes on but the point is, it is a HUGE issue. A child was dropped two weeks ago, broke her femur (the hardest bone in the body to break) and the nurse did not tell a soul. They discovered the broken bone a week later. The kids are on and off of feeding tubes. Their lungs are filled with fluid.  I could go on. They are suffering. After I figure out EXACTLY how I can help, expect a blog telling you how YOU can help whether it is prayers, money, materials or even a trip here.

The fact that our suffer is NOTHING compared to the suffer that Jesus knows just blows my mind. 

ready for Joyaus lesson #3,
-Shel