Wednesday
Each morning my roommate puts on a lovely devotional that pairs Scripture with prayer and music. This morning it has elements of lament in it. This, of course, cuts through all my defenses.
“I can’t start my day with lament.” I tell myself as I pick up a water bottle and walk out of the room to refill it.
As I’m walking away I think about our dinner the other night. We were invited to the summer home of one of our organizers. It was a lush tropical paradise with fruit trees and museumesque antiques. There were charming places to gather and of course a karaoke machine. The dancing that went on that night was nothing short of wild and fun. It was also bittersweet as I imagined that Philip and I would have been twirling on that dance floor and he probably would have even twirled me into the pool. Grief is a strange thing and can pull the rug right out under you even if you are dancing on it.
It seems listening for the prompting of the Holy Spirit is not just for clinic.
My tendency is to keep lament in a compartment and bring it out when I am alone with God. “There is no urgency in lamenting” I tell myself, because it follows me wherever I go. This morning, however, I feel God prompting me to lament. His message seems to be: don’t run away and cover yourself in your positivity but instead Be still and know that I am is God…
Clinic Day Three: Barangay Dos Hermanas
Clinic today is in the center of a bustling neighborhood. It seems to be a hub for Filipino tricycles, a motorcycle with a sidecar. They line the narrow concrete street awaiting deployment. There is a grand Catholic Church nearby and a large gathering place/basketball court where we set up clinic. Unlike our first days, the walls are high and little natural airflow is available but our hosts have provided powerful fans again so we swelter but are not undone.
A long queue of waiting patients has already formed when the team arrives. I stand on the stage to pray for the day while clinic is being arranged. I follow the path of clinic with my prayers asking God to strengthen each participant in our inner beings through the power of His Holy Spirit.
I watch a tiny trio of darlings run and play across the pavilion floor. Their giggling joy at being alive and moving captivates me and I find it strengthening my inner being already. The simplest blessings are often the best of all.
Hypertension, Diabetes and TB are the headliners of my day. So many come to me with treatment already established but somehow simply want my opinion. My day is full of teaching and encouraging and referring to Dr. K when follow up is needed. Dr. K listens with patience and a smile always welcoming whomever I bring her. I am tempted to feel like I am burdening her yet she never receives me with any indication that I am. She is a wonder of fortitude, dedication and compassionate care.
I have a young Mama come with complaints of frequent nighttime trips to the bathroom. She has no other concerns and her exam finds her healthy. I am about to wrap up our time with teaching and send her off to vitamins when my darling Everly offhandedly mentions that our patient’s dad died last month. God immediately pokes me and I sit her back down and hug her.
With tears in both our eyes, I take her hands in mine and share my story. I share how God welcomes us in our lament. How He promises to comfort those who mourn and to bless them. It is not an easy road but He promises to walk alongside us all the way to the end. As Everly assures me that she will need no translation, we pray together. Somewhere down these broken roads we will share again, only then, it will be all about the faithfulness of our God Who walks beside us.
We end the day seeing over 300 patients. It is a new daily record. I am reminded again of something my Pastor says:
Every number has a name,
Every name has a story,
And every story matters to God.
Thank you, Lord, for bringing our stories together so we can be reminders to each other that we matter to You.
💥PhilippiAnne💥
Wednesday in the Philippines
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