My Eyes are Opened

It’s about that time again. Time to go back to into the hospital for round 3! This break has gone by of course entirely too fast, but it has been a great break. How I have felt this break cannot even compare to the first one. I have had much more energy, I’ve gone back to working a little, I’ve been out and about, and am feeling just generally much better. Praise the Lord! So as I am standing on the precipice of round 3 beginning on Monday, I say, “Bring it on!” My doctor is increasing my dose of chemotherapy. He saw me last time staring at the chemo bags and laughing in their face. Needless to say they cowered in fear and submission, so he thinks it’s best to try and up the dose. Psh. Child’s play.

Anyways, something has been on my mind throughout this entire ordeal and I think it’s appropriate at this time to bring it up. It’s actually an event that has been on my heart for nearly a year now, something that is one of those life-changing, breath-taking, make-you-rethink-your-life type events. It came in the form of a sick little girl I met in Uganda this past summer.

Many of you may or may not know that I spent two weeks in southwest Uganda working with Christians there doing ministry at a Bible College and at a rural medical clinic. At the medical clinic, hundreds of people from the surrounding villages came (some more than 3 miles) to sit and wait in the hot sun to be helped by our small medical team. For two weeks they were helped by our group (I began working with them the second week), and praise the Lord we were able to help establish this clinic for the people of that community.

Before you think that I might fit in at a medical clinic, I assure you that as a Shotts, I am a misnomer, and all I did was fumble along in the pharmacy trying to help fill prescriptions for the Ugandans that didn’t have medical care. Many of you know that I do not show emotions very well, and Uganda was no different. I was trying very hard to not get moved emotionally by the great need for Jesus and for medicine there where we were working. I didn’t want to show anyone that I was affected by the spiritual and physical pain these people were experiencing. I was doing a good job of staying objective with the task at hand. And it helped that I was in the pharmacy dealing with finding the correct medicine, counting pills, and filling prescriptions. Objective. I didn’t have to see the patients, deal with their hurts and pains, try to communicate with them and encourage them. Other jobs were taking the patients temperatures, blood pressures, finding out their symptoms, etc. But in the pharmacy, I could just stay behind the scenes and maybe I could get out of there without being moved by the needs that I saw. Let me just say this, God works in mysterious ways.

There were too many of us in the pharmacy. Since I was the newest member of the team, I took a break and sat in the ‘waiting room’. A few minutes later the leader of our team rushed in the door carrying a little girl. She was incredibly sick with malaria, barely awake and able to move on her own. He sat her down next to me and ran to get the doctor. Unbelievable. All of a sudden, after trying to keep my distance from being too involved with what was going on, I was thrust into a situation where I couldn’t do anything but be involved, and the emotions I was trying to hard to keep in check all came bubbling forth. Those next few minutes with her sitting by me are so difficult to put into words. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to help? I couldn’t heal her. I couldn’t speak her language. I didn’t even know her name. I thought of when I was a child. My mother took me to the doctor when I was sick. This girl was all alone. At my doctor’s office we had toys and games in the waiting room, with cool paintings on the wall and stickers and candy when we were done. This clinic was concrete and had no toys. My mom was the one who communicated with the doctor. The doctor came and told her how and when to take the medicine. If I was that sick, I would’ve been able to go to the hospital and get IV fluids and the best, state of the art medical care. She had to get her medicine in a little Ziploc bag with a bottle of water. Here I was, sitting next to a very sick little girl, not knowing if she was going to live or die, feeling worlds apart, and yet the Lord laid it on my heart to do something. But what could I do?

I went to my backpack and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. For the next few minutes I drew pictures with her. I told her my name and tried to my best to communicate with her, to make her laugh, to make her feel not so afraid, to make her think of something else besides her sickness. In a few minutes, she was pretty exhausted and so we stopped drawing. She laid her head on my shoulder and slept. Those next moments seemed like an eternity to me. All of those “Why, God?” questions welled up in my mind. Why this little girl? Why all this sickness and pain? Why can’t you just heal her? I was heartbroken that here was this very sick little girl sitting next to me, and I could not even communicate in words the love of Jesus for her. I wanted very badly to tell her that things were going to be okay. That Jesus loved her and cared about her, that he defeated sin and death and Satan so that one day there would be no more sickness and pain and suffering, so that one day she wouldn’t have to be alone and scared. But instead I had to sit there silent, while she slept, praying that she would be ok. God works in such mysterious and sometimes very frustrating ways.

And just like that, our team leader came with the doctor, woke her up and explained the medicine to her. Still too weak to walk, our team leader picked her up and carried her back to the school she was at, about a five minute’s walk away. How badly I wanted to be the one to save her. To carry her back to the school and make sure she was okay. To help her get better. To make sure she understood how to take the medicine. To make her feel comfortable and unafraid. All these things I wanted to do but knew that I couldn’t. It was out of my control. I watched that little girl go, not knowing whether I would ever see her again or ever find out how she was doing. God works in such mysterious ways.

I think of that little girl every time I go to the hospital now. I think of how blessed I was and am to be in a place that provides incredible medical care. I never take for granted the blessings that God has given me when it comes to the cancer I have now. He has kept me safe and given me doctors and a hospital that can provide the care I need to get better. He’s given me a family, friends, and a church family that support me in so many ways that I am overwhelmed. I can’t begin to describe my gratitude for all of this. But yet I’m constantly reminded of that little girl in Uganda who didn’t have what I have. I’m reminded that Jesus calls us to go and make disciples of all nations. I’m reminded that he says to love our neighbor as ourselves. He calls us to share his love with those who don’t have it. To meet the needs of those who we come into contact with.

Let’s be passionate about showing Christ’s love to the people of God (for this is how the world will know we are his disciples) and then to those who don’t know his love and to those who need his healing, spiritual and physical. Many of those sick people in Uganda begged for Bibles in their own language. Many wanted to know why God would do this to them. Many of them aren’t going to be able to hear about Jesus because they are dying from illnesses like malaria and complications from AIDS.

I’m reminded of all this as I prepare to go back into the hospital on Monday. My eyes are opened. I pray that yours would be as well. Those of us who are in Christ, let’s not forget those in the body of Christ that are hurting, physically, spiritually, emotionally. Maybe what they need is just a shoulder to put their head on. And let’s not forget those who don’t know Christ. Perhaps they need to see his love as well. That’s my prayer and goal this round, to show the love of Christ to those in good ole Roberts building, floor 9.

There is an end to the story of that little girl. The next day there was a team of us going to the elementary school to give shoes and glasses to the children there. As I was helping one of the girls with her glasses, this other girl comes up to me, tugs on my shirt and waves with this big smile on her face. At first I didn’t recognize her, but then I knew who it was. It was the little girl from the clinic! Words can’t describe how overjoyed I was to see her. She looked so much better, and I knew that God had worked a miracle. God is good. He was in control all along. He is a healer. I praise and thank him that even in my weakness and selfishness, he used me and changed my heart to become more like him. Let’s get in on his mission and share his love to those who need it. 

New Year's Resolution

Happy New Year's everyone! I hope everyone who is reading this has had a fantastic Christmas and a fantastic New Year's holiday. Mine were very wonderful and it was a blessing to get to spend Christmas at home with the family and well, less of a blessing but still one anyways, to get to view some fireworks out of my hospital window on New Year's Eve (but then again, its New Year's Eve, not the most invigorating holiday anyway :-) ). Anyways, I apologize for not doing any blogging whilst connected to my various poisons in the hospital. I'm trying to write as anything exciting or momentous happens, but contrary to popular belief, chemotherapy is remarkably uneventful!

This round went tons better than being in the hospital the first time. There were not nearly as many unknowns and freaky diagnoses, much less pain and suffering due to the port, and it was just generally a more pleasant time. I had more strength throughout the stay, and I was learning my way around the whole cancer thing a lot better. We are starting to get to know the nursing staff a little better. They are starting to see how incredibly attractive I am without hair, and how charming I can be when the prednisone side affect of euphoria sets in. But seriously, all in all, it was a good time in the hospital. A week in the hospital yes, but under the circumstances I can't complain. God is good. At home, I have much more strength and energy. I'm feeling a lot better, but I am still trying to get used to having the port inside of me. It freaks me out just a bit having this weird deal in my chest lol. But that will get better over time. It's worth it.

I figured I would make a New Year's resolution this year, since it is the time for new beginnings and what not and most people like to make a new year's resolution. Many of you might have a guess as to what my NYR could be. Is it to beat cancer? Is it to have a clean bill of health? Is it to stay positive while during treatment? Is it to finish school on time? to have good grades? To still be able to work despite being sick? Obviously, these would all be viable options based on the situation I find myself in, and really they would be resolutions that would be fair for someone to make. Unfortunately, none of these are my resolutions. It might be stunning, but I have not resolved for the New Year to set out to beat cancer. I know, be shocked. You might be saying, Jonathan, that is idiotic. And well, yes, you may be right, I am often times idiotic, but in this case I don't think I am. You see, it's not that I don't want to beat cancer. It's not that I don't want to have this tumor inside of me destroyed and removed. That would be very awesome if that happened this year. But a clean bill of health does not bring about ultimate satisfaction. Some people think it does, but I beg to differ. And if I'm gonna make a resolution, I'm gonna make one that brings about ultimate satisfaction.

This goes for everyone I think. Why make a resolution that just brings you momentary pleasure, like resolving to enjoy life more this year. Or a selfish resolution to, be more assertive and state your opinions rather than go with the crowd. Or a resolution to find a better job or make more money? Those things only bring momentary pleasure and often times more heartache. Or maybe its to exercise more and have a better general well-being. Ask yourself the question. Do these things really bring about ultimate satisfaction? Or do they just bring temporary happiness? And then the question. Why would I settle for just temporary happiness when I could be truly satisfied, regardless of my situation, whether I have a great job and makes lots of money, or have lost my job and don't know how to put food on my table? I would argue that if we're going to make resolutions, let's make resolutions that truly mean something, not like resolving to be able to reach down and touch my toes this year.

And so this is where I'm at. I'm not going to resolve to beat cancer. I'm going to make a resolution that is far more satisfying, and one that can be achieved regardless of whether I beat cancer or not. It's one that can sustain us through the most difficult times and the best of times. It's one that's not dependent upon momentary pleasures, but one that's dependent upon something that's eternal. A good friend of mine, Uncle Paulie (and not the one from Rocky), said that he had learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want (by the way, he was in prison at the time he wrote that). He ended up being executed. Imagine if he had resolved not to get executed that year. He would've been disappointed.

But guess what, I know the secret too. And it's my resolution this year. It's simple. In fact, it's my resolution every year. I resolve to love Jesus with everything that I am, and to love my neighbor as myself. Only complete devotion to Christ can bring about ultimate satisfaction. And complete devotion to Christ leads to loving my neighbor as myself. It's a massive learning process and I continually have to be open to see what God teaches me both to love him more and to love others more, especially within my current situation. But its a resolution that transcends all situations and lasts for an entire lifetime. And that's what I'm after when I make a resolution. Seems a bit more reasonable than something that won't last. So will you join me? Forget the resolutions like being a better cook, or to have a cleaner house, or to watch more football, and commit yourself wholeheartedly to Christ. The other things will fall into place. Being a better parent, a better employee, a humbler person, a better student, a more well rounded individual, all of those good things that are God's will work themselves out when we devote ourselves to him. But the other things, those that give us temporary pleasures, they aren't worth seeking out for satisfaction. As for my cancer, if I beat, it praise God. But if for some reason I don't, then praise God regardless. My resolution won't be ruined. Jesus is far better. Uncle Paulie says that everything else is like dung compared to the greatness of knowing Christ Jesus as Lord. I'm with him. Are you?