...here i am to worship...

Where his right leg had once been, only a stump remained, he would never walk normally again. He was not out of the woods yet, the infection that has started to creep up his leg could have gone farther than we knew. His road to recovery was just beginning. Our hearts were heavy, but we thanked God for a successful, safe operation, and prayed that God would hold this little boy in his hands and be with him as he woke up and faced the reality that his leg was gone.



…As the anesthesia wore off, he came to, and all he asked for was a balloon…


It has been over a month now since he had his right leg amputated. He has never once complained. When I come into the ward in the morning, he is one of the first to shout out, “Mornin, Laura, how da body?” I greet him from across the room and say, “Mornin Doctor, how u sleep & how are the other patients?” He giggles and tells me the rest of the patients are fine. As I look around the ward at my plastics patients, all the other children hide their eyes, believing if they don’t make eye contact with me, they won’t have to have their dressings changed. As I am still scanning the room checking how everyone is doing, my little balloon loving friend, volunteers to have his dressing changed first. I say, “Doctor, that is very brave of you, but very wise, as we have many other dressing changes to do today and I need your help, so we will do yours first, and then you can help me encourage the other patients to have theirs done too!” He giggles again and hops out of bed, grabs his crutches, adjusts the toy stethoscope, around his neck that we have given him to play with, and he says, “le go, le go” (meaning let’s go, I’m ready).


Another nurse assists with his dressing change as I assume my post at the computer updating all the patient information on the computer census. I get lost in mounds of paperwork and sorting out of this and that. I run in and out of the ward, looking for this medicine, creating the item that the nurse needs out of a piece of that tubing and this device and then with the most sincere, straight face, I explain to the new nurse how to use what I just created. She looks at me like I am crazy and I just smile and say, “We do things a little differently around here.” I call the doctor and ask what antibiotic he would like me to use instead of the one he just ordered, because the pharmacy just informed me we are all out of the ordered antibiotic and won’t have any more until the next shipping container arrives. I dash off to the lab after receiving a text page saying... “We’ve got something interesting for you to look at…” I rush into the lab with a grin on my face and say, “don’t tell me, I want to see if I can figure it out on my own.” After a 5 second peek down the microscope, I announce “schistosomiasis mansoni!” The lab tech nods her head in agreement. I say, “Cool, well not for the patient, but cool” and dash out the lab, once again reminding them to call me anytime there is anything interesting to see so that I can keep working on my skills.


In the hallway, on my way back to the ward, I see a beautiful African mother carrying a little buddle of brightly colored, African fabric in her hands. I know that inside the bundle of fabric, there has got to be one precious little baby. I smile at the mother and urge her to let me see inside the fabric pile that she holds with such care. I grin from ear to ear as I see a little head covered with a mop of curly hair a little baby with a cleft lip smiling up at me. I tell the mama her baby is BEAUTIFUL…and I bounce off toward the ward.


Once back in the ward, I sit down at the desk and make assignments for the evening shift, considering each nurse’s skill set and determining which patients they are best gifted to care for. With a list of 10 million other things I still have to do before the shift finishes, running around my head, I move on to the next task in front of me. Tackling each challenge and question I am presented with one at a time, I smile and carry on. As I am still working madly on everything that needs done, I hear this little voice singing “hear I...I am...hear I...I’m tooo worshp…hear I...I am tooo bow down…hear I...I am tooo worshp…” the little voice continues repeating the same line over and over… “hear I...I am...hear I...I’m tooo worshp…hear I...I am tooo bow down…hear I...I am tooo worshp…” I look around the ward wondering where the little angelic voice is coming from and wonder how she learned the words to one of my favorite worship songs. I ascertain the voice is coming from a little girl who I find sitting next to my balloon loving friend. The two of them are coloring together, sitting on the floor next to his bed. She keeps singing and he just looks up and smiles at me.


I stop everything I am doing and listen to her singing as best she can, stammering over her words. I pause… and confess once again that that is why I am here…that’s why I am on a hospital ship in Africa…that’s what it’s all about…here I am to worship…here I am to bow down… here I am to tell them that YOU ARE MY GOD! You are altogether lovely, altogether worthy; altogether wonderful to me…Here I am to worship!