Stewart died this morning, the 7 year old son of our health center’s in-charge medical assistant Biguye. I’ve worked closely with Biguye for many, many years, and grown to respect his judgment and perseverance. When he beckoned me in the rain Friday morning to his apartment on the hospital grounds as I arrived for work, I was surprised to see his young son lying on the couch, jaundiced, breathing hard, with an IV drip going into his arm. Stewart had sickle cell disease, which is extremely prevalent here. He had always been on the small side, and weak, but rarely acutely ill, and only had a history of one transfusion prior to this illness. All weekend we conferred together, listening to his failing heart struggle more and more, praying, trying everything available to assist his fight. A staff child, like a team child, draws on my heart in a personal way, and I found myself going back a couple of times a day, hoping to see a change for the better. But no. By Sunday he was not responding sensibly to questions. By this morning he was not responding at all. I watched his growing restlessness and could only imagine the distress he was experiencing. Many children die, many in my presence, but not usually when I know the parents well, and have to watch the inexorable progression of the demise over days. It was painful.
After he died, the staff quickly cleared the room of furniture and laid his body on a mattress on the floor, wrapped in a sheet. They functioned like one big family, crying, discussing arrangements for the burial, spreading the news, collecting money. I think we all thought of our own children, of their vulnerability, of Biguye’s pain. He’s a stoic man who has seen much of life, and he made a few short speeches thanking all of us for the help. But I know his heart is breaking too.
When someone dies, the onlookers shake their heads and say “it is God’s will”. But it isn’t, not really. God let his own son die because the death of 7 year old Ugandan children is NOT OK. It is not the way the world is supposed to be. And changing this world requires suffering and sacrifice, the ultimate suffering and sacrifice paid by God Himself. It is a mysterious truth that His people continue to pay. And it seems this year that working at Nyahuka Health Center, confronting death on it’s own territory ever day, is exacting a high toll from our staff. Jonah paid with his life and Biguye with his son.
3 comments:
Praying for you, for this precious boys family. May God grant you all peace and healing. I often catch myself asking how God could allow you guys to face more tragedy. I don't have an answer, but I do have a grieving heart, and many prayers going up on your behalf. I DO believe that our sovereign God is in control. Just had to send some love your way.
Hi, I learned about your work through one of my pastors here at Grace Community Church in Asheville, NC, USA. Since the Ebola outbreak, I have been reading your blog every day. And every day I cry with, or rejoice with you. Today my heart aches with you. My prayers, too, are with you, all of you. God is faithful.
To the Myhres family and all those there in Bundibugyo who are facing such challenges every day, know that you are in my prayers still daily. Biguye and his family are in my prayers; my daughter Jessica is the 21 year old missionary who died in the car accident that claimed the life of 3 WHM missionaries on February 3rd. I am praying for Biguye and his family with all the empathy I can as a mother who also just lost a child. Your blogs continue to encourage me, to challenge me to carry on, to motivate me to pray for you more, and to work harder at making every moment count for eternity. You are impacting my life more than I can even put into words.
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