Satan's Attack or God's Provision: Why It is Good that We Suffer in Bundibugyo

Part Two

There I was, slicing a fresh pineapple, with a toddler pulling at my dress... Juice running over the counter, pooling at my feet, and sticky baby hands lapping it up and chasing away ants that were in fierce competition.

In he walks, my superhero, looking exasperated, frustrated, and nearly defeated {a face I've seen far too many times in the last several months}. No time for addressing those emotions though, as he was already late for his next meeting and just in to gather a few things.

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"How was it?" I ask apprehensively. "I thought you were just following up on two patients..."

"I was. Until they brought me a baby who wasn't breathing."

"Was he dead?" I asked, dreading the answer, and loosening the grip of my own babe pulling on my dress.

"No. Just gasping for breath, like he was in the process of drowning."

Me: "What did you do?"

SuperHubby: "What could I do? He was born last night. There wasn't any means to suction him, I didn't have any means of monitoring an O2 sat, and the oxygen (which would be nasal cannula) couldn't be located anyway. We couldn't even find a bulb suction..."

Me: "So, what did you do?"

Him: "I prayed. And I looked up some antibiotic dosages..." {...because, what else do you do in a helpless situation when people are looking desperately to you do something, anything, to save their baby?}

Me: "Isn't there anyone else there who could help?"

Him: "I had the head nurse helping me but that was it. There aren't any other physicians (Jessica is out of town), and the other clinical officers aren't scheduled to be there today. I told her that we needed help, and she said she would beg someone to come in...Even still, he is one patient and there are record highs right now. People were literally pulling at my shirt, begging me to see their child. We are going to Kampala tomorrow, and even if someone else were there, they would be alone just like I was today. It's chaos."

"And, you know what the hardest part of it is?" he said, putting his shoes on to head out the door. "Feeling like you are not doing anything well. There's not the manpower. There's not the resources. There's not the infrastructure... There's not enough time. And there's not enough energy..."

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And with that, he scooped up the sticky-handed toddler, squeezed her as tight as he could, knowing that loving that child was something this superhero could do almost perfectly well. And just like that, he was out the door again before I could offer him any fresh pineapple.

This is Life.

It's messy. It's sticky. It's hard.

 It's worth it.

Many days I have to remind myself of this as the chaos can be engulfing and the sheer number of decisions in a day can be mind-boggling. Satan would like to tell us we can't do anything well, but that's because he is in the business of telling half-truths. Because, it's true. We can't do anything well. We are as broken and limited as the system we are working in (...and, we'd be as broken and limited as the system we are working in back home). And there's nothing we can do to change our own condition or those we live in here on earth. But, praise God that we don't have to. We don't have to carry the burden of change. We don't have to find our fulfillment and satisfaction in the fruit of our works. Jesus entered this world because of its brokenness, and He came to help those who were sick, not those who were well. The God-Man is well-acquainted with suffering, and can reach those who are suffering deeply because He took on the deepest suffering of all. 

And so, when we acquaint ourselves with suffering (as uncomfortable as it is...), it is like looking deeply into His face and seeing a portion of His heart that we otherwise would have missed had we chosen to guard our own hearts.  

Even HE was assaulted by tragedy.  

And He stood in it perfectly, so that we too could stand in the gap between heaven and earth, and find rest in the dichotomy. When He said to His disciples in Mark 6 to come away to a desolate place and find rest, He really meant it ...because we really need it.  What struck me most about this passage is that He called them away to a desolate place, not because there is rest in the desolation, but because 

HE. IS. THERE.

So, yes. It is good that we suffer with those who are suffering in Bundibugyo, in many ways "a desolate place". Why is it good that we struggle and fight to live here well, knowing that on this side of heaven we will always be striving?? Because Jesus is in this desolate place and we wouldn't know the depth of His mercies unless we knew the darkness that He has rescued us from. And this place of rest, the one in the desolate place, it's a rest that is as sweet as honey (and, it's worth fighting for...)

And so this is where I rest at the end of many long days:

There is joy in the morning (Psalm 30:5).
We are holding out for that glorious Day to come. 
And on some days, He lets us see rays of that morning shining through.

And it is Beautiful.