Lavender's call was a surprise. "Can you come and help?" she asked me. "I am going to visit a friend who is sick, and I was wondering if you could come with me." I was happy to come, and Lauren came with me.
In one corner of the living room was a hospital bed draped in pink mosquito net. And under the net, nestled among blankets and pillows, slept the thin, delicate frame of a man. His wife and daughter introduced themselves. We shook hands with them and with the other caretakers hovering around the room. They all obviously loved the person in that bed.
We learned that the man is a pastor, a leader among the Karen churches in Burma. He was responsible for the construction of an ark-shaped prayer chapel somewhere on a mountain top in Karen State. People all over the world know and respect him. He is a man of integrity, a man of faith.
And he was trapped in a suffering body. Metastatic prostate cancer had made its way to his bones. He was struggling to breathe, to eat, to move. He was in constant pain, and his mental capacity had begun to ebb. Several days and a battery of medical tests in the private hospital had done nothing to bring him relief. In fact, because the family wasn't able to pay his bill, he was discharged without being given the results of any of his tests - without any medical documentation of any kind.
Lauren and I fell into nurse and almost-a-doctor roles. She did a brief physical exam. I encouraged repositioning and good nutrition and passive range of motion exercises. We looked over the medications he had been taking and answered his family's questions. Then we gathered around the bed and prayed.
At "Amen," I felt the need to sing, and the song that came immediately to mind was "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms." So I sang. In English. From around the room came snatches of the lyrics in Karen. We sang of fellowship, of blessedness, of the peace that comes when we truly do lean on those everlasting arms. And as we sang, the pastor closed his eyes and literally leaned, tilting slightly forward as he sat in the bed. In my mind's eye, I could see Jesus sitting there in the bed as well, his strong arms supporting this precious saint, holding him as he made his way through the valley of shadow.
We were back again with Lavender the next day. The family was preparing to transport the pastor to his home inside Burma. The car ride would undoubtedly be extremely painful for him, and the family wanted to do everything possible to make it more comfortable. I was able to find good anti-nausea medication that we hoped would make it possible for him to keep down something for pain relief. So we brought that and gave again the instructions for basic nursing care. We also found out that a group of Karen believers in the US had pooled their resources and wired enough money to completely cover the pastor's hospital bill. The loving care of this man's biological and spiritual family was overwhelming.
When we got home, Lauren and I looked at each other. We were full of emotions - sorrow for the pastor's suffering, amazement at his spiritual strength, praise for the church's generosity, hope for the future of this man and his family. Also in the mix was the joy of working side by side, using our skills and our passions to care for this real need. Lauren doesn't know yet where she'll aim to be when she finishes residency. I'm pretty sure she knows she's welcome here. But for now we are savoring the time we've been given, and doing our best to use it well.
