In the maternity ward we had the privilege of praying with 5 mamas who had just delivered babies....either the day before or a few hours before! Rita Joyce was even asked to NAME two of the babies!! And, yes, I got to hold ALL the babies! I even helped one new mama with nursing....she was a first-time mama and was struggling. They don't exactly have any lactation consultants on duty!
In the surgical ward there are 2 rows with 20+ beds each. There are women/girls there of all ages....from toddlers to old women. We visited first with a girl who's around 12 or 13. She's been in the hospital for 1 month and 20 days. She has a bandaged wound on her leg. She was all alone...laying on her bed. Rita Joyce would speak to her in Acholi and translate every once in a while for me. She covered the girl in hugs and prayed for her before we left.
Then we went to talk with an old woman in the bed next to the young girl. She was very lonely, even though her adult daughter was there with her. Rita Joyce began to speak with her in Acholi. They talked for about 40 minutes and Rita Joyce didn't translate at all. I just sat on the bed and looked around the room.
I saw a young mama struggling with 2 young children. One was less than a year old and the other was obviously the sick one....but the mama was lovingly tending to both of them. I saw a young girl of about 9 who was lying in a bed alone. And I saw many many older women just sitting in bed...some with family members around them. Some totally alone.
After about 20 minutes I suddenly felt the Holy Spirit impressing on my heart to pray for Rita Joyce and to pray that the old woman's heart would be open to what she was being told. I asked Rita Joyce about it after she had prayed with the woman and we left. She said she had shared with the woman about Jesus...but the woman was not ready to accept Him yet. Rita Joyce said she was going to go back and visit the woman again and pray that before then, the woman's heart would soften towards Jesus.
My heart was so sad as I walked around the hospital. I realized, again, what blessings we have in America. Blessings we can often take for granted. When we go to the hospital we can be fairly certain that the doctor will be able to diagnose what's wrong with us. Then we know that the medical staff will be able to give us whatever medicine we might need...or do whatever medical procedure is needed to help us get well. We know that we can turn on the TV if we're bored. We are guaranteed 3 hot meals each day we're in the hospital. If we don't like the meal we can send a family member down to the cafeteria or gift shop to get us a treat. If our child is sick, they have access to the toy room. Or carts come by with coloring books or bubbles. If we're uncomfortable, the bed can be raised or lowered. Family members come to visit. Friends send flowers, balloons, and cards.
Not so here in Uganda. Here people wait and wait...sometimes for weeks for medicine to arrive (and sometimes the medicine never arrives). Family members sleep on mats outside on the veranda (in rain or shine) so they can fix food for their sick family member. If a sick person doesn't have family to help...they don't eat. Most people just sit in bed all day. Maybe talking to the person next to them. Maybe just watching other people in the ward. As new mothers leave the hospital with their babies, they lift a pan with everything they brought to the hospital on their head and prepare to walk home (unless they can afford to pay for transportation). Children die because of lack of malaria medicine....the very same medicine that I just so easily bought for Garrett.
We are so blessed.
I am so blessed.
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