Walking up from the gate the other afternoon, I once again met up with Joanna, the Queen of Mercy Ships. We got caught up on her daughter's life and my work on the wards, and then she dropped a bomb into our casual conversation.
Friend die. My face fell and I stopped walking, my feet planted to the concrete. She nodded sagely. Friend really die-o, she confirmed, as my heart sank through my feet.
Friend was another of our long-term patients; he was with us at the same time as Joanna and Baby Greg and Bendu. For years, a tumor had been growing on his back. We took a biopsy, knew that it was cancer, but realized that the quality of his life would be so much better if he could live the rest of his days as a part of society. So we removed it, grafted skin from his leg over the open sores, and battled the infections that followed. Friend hung out in his bed in the corner of the ward, number fifteen, for quite a while. So long, in fact, that he earned himself a new title: King of Mercy Ships. He and Joanna were quite a pair. We got to know him, and he would pray with us at devotions and encourage us with testimonies of how God was making a way for him. And he would complain about pain in his hip.
We figured it was because of the awkward angle at which he carried himself, half hunched over like a boxer nursing a bruised set of ribs. We goaded him constantly to stand up straight and exercise his muscles. Eventually, he went home.
We found out a few weeks later that the cancer had returned, bursting through the skin of his hip. Joanna, who had remained in contact with Friend after they both left us, would come for her own appointments and let us know how he was doing. He trying small. He really not too well. Or, finally, He really die-o. The King's fight was over.
She told me that he was really disheartened during his last days, that he had completely lost hope. And while I hate to think of my Friend living out his final hours in despair, I'm holding on to the fact that healing doesn't always happen in this life.






it does sound hard but worthy at the same time. i would like to think your relationship with God has taken you to many new places since you have been there and am looking forward to that also.
this makes me sad. despite the fact that it was expected, it still makes me sad.
sigh...
Why is it so much easier to remember the failures than all the ones we fixed?