September 11th. 2008.The end of another life.
Civil hospital.
Alone.
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This is the brief story of a prodigal son. He ran away from home in his teens. Lived in the city. Had a woman and children. Got HIV. Gave HIV to his wife. Left his wife and went back to the village. Was welcomed and sent back here. Was left by his wife. Lived in destitution but unwilling to take positive steps. Was too sick to look after himself. Wife returned but sick herself and unwilling to do anything more for him. Left him at the Civil Hospital. Alone. Ripped out the IV lines the nurses put in. That was the last of medical care for him. Died last night.
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Its hard to know what to say. The world continues to turn. Our fan continues to send a cool breeze down on us. Another life is gone. Another family has a permanent hole to solidify the many holes that were already there.
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At the end of the day - his wife sent him off to the hospital to die. We tried to persuade her to be with him or bring him home in the last part. "No. Let whatever happens, happen at the civil hospital." Translation: let him die there.
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It was our staff who went to meet him this morning who were told he had died. They then went to his wife and told her. Today the last rites were held.
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I remember meeting him when he first came to JSK. There was some hope in his eyes. Those eyes are shut now.
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Two times in the last week I have heard people say: "I couldn't do what you are doing" "You are specially prepared for this work". I appreciate what they are trying to say. Words of encouragement. Keep going and all that. Just one thing. I can't do what we are doing either. This is not what I would choose to do if I had a choice. This is about obedience to what the Master is calling. If I am involved with this - well than anyone can be. Anyone.
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And so to the end of another day. We spent some time in prayer this afternoon. Thanking God for what He has done. Praying for the quiet carnage that continues in Orissa. Seeking truth and purity in our lives. Bringing the seemingly impossible needs to our Lord.
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Sweet sleep. ... for he grants sleep to those he loves. (Ps. 127.2b)
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