When I was young, I attended a Catholic elementary school. I had a teacher that was particularly influential in my development. One of the things that his woman, a nun, would do has been something that I have carried on to this day. Whenever we heard sirens outside of our classroom, we would stop what we were doing and say a prayer. One time, my mother, sister and nephew were involved in a car accident right near the school and unbenownst to us, we prayed for them as we heard the ambulance go by. It can be so easy to get desensitized to the sights and sounds around us...so easy to forget that within an ambulance, there is a person who needs prayers...a family that needs prayer. I am so thankful for the this woman of God that she taught us to see and hear the cries of others.
In the middle of the night, there were alarms blaring, people rushing, and a general commotion going on. A "code blue" had been called on the unit. The reality of that is that some one's child was dying..or near death.
I am insulated here in many ways..we don't see other patients and they don't see us. Occassionally, we see another parent, but it is only the length of an elevator ride downstairs. The reality is, that within this hospital unit, there are 15 or more really sick kids. I wish I had more contact with the other families...we share such a similar experiences. I wish I had more of an idea of how other kids' course of treatments are going..but for the most part, I have no idea. I wish I could share with other families who are struggling that God has not looked away...he has not forsaken them in their pain. Last night was a reminder to me that not all of the kids survive through transplant. And not all families will walk out of the hospital with their child.There time has not been cut short because of cancer, bone marrow failure, or a blood disorder. God knows the number of our days before we were ever created. The bone marrow unit at a pediatric hospital brings with it to very opposite views of the world and of God. Some can never get over the fact that children are suffering. They can not imagine a God that would allow something so cruel. Some have the potential of losing what little faith they held onto. My heart breaks for those who take this path. There is little but bitterness and anger that grows out of this view of God...
Some chose to believe that God is in control...no matter what. Their faith grows as they realize that they are utterly dependent on Jesus Christ...and they surrender all. The worry...The fear...The anger...
They begin to see the world through God's perspective...that everything we experience, everything we have been given--the good and the bad, is given to us by a loving, compassionate God who really does care about all the details. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good... for those who are called according to his purpose. We are called to give him glory...in life and in death. Faith has the potential to develop deep roots here at the Children's hospital...and the fruit that it bears will be alluring to those who see it.
And so today, I am struck with the reality around me. Kids right now, right down the hall may be dying..they may be barely hanging on to this life. We can get little to no information regarding other patients...but the nurse did tell me that the situation overnight turned out "okay." Families are crying out to God from within the hospital rooms here. My heart aches with them.I may not get a chance to speak with them much because of the circumstances, but I can pray for them. And my prayer would be that the seeds of faith be planted here in the midst of the pain. That the faith of these children would lead their families to peace and a longing to hold tight onto a God that will never let them down...no matter what.
So, whether an ambulance speeds by or a code blue alarm is triggered, I will pray. Thank you for that lesson, Sister Bernice. You have taught this student compassion that did not end when 1st grade was over.
And I wish I hadn't laughed so hard everytime we sang "some one's naked, Lord-- Kumbaya" in Mass every week. How you were not pleased when the pew was shaking because all of the first graders were trying to hold in the laughter....
