There was Maurius, sitting like a king on his bed, propped up in a wash basin, tucked in all around with lappas so he couldn't fall down, reigning over his corner of A Ward with wide eyes and ready smiles. He's drinking all his milk by mouth now, and if he keeps this up he'll be home by the end of the weekend, fat and happy.
But then, of course, there's O'Brien in the corner across from him, struggling so hard to breathe that his tiny heart has started to fail him. And so, under the watchful eye of King Maurius, we bundled O'Brien up and made the walk back down the hall to the ICU yet again, the place where we saw his life miraculously spared just a few weeks ago.
Knowing what happened before, we haven't been hesitant to pray for healing, gathering in little groups all across the hospital to plead God for life, but miracles have been slow to appear today. Instead, we've watched as his body struggled to get enough oxygen. We've tried everything short of a ventilator (something that isn't an option anymore, given everything else going on), and still his body is failing him. We've been MacGuyver and Inspector Gadget and the Professor from Gilligan's Island, rigging up one failed solution after another to help him breathe, but nothing is really working. Right now he's wrapped up in his mama's lappa, a wire hanger twisted around to form a frame for the plastic bag, being filled with pure oxygen, that he's resting inside, and still he struggles.
I don't know what's going to happen with O'Brien. I don't know how many days God wrote into his book before he was born, and my heart trembles to think that we might be nearing the last page.
And down the hall in A Ward, after praying for our little sparrow baby at handover, we all stood in a circle with Aissa in the middle, and we danced the chicken dance. Nurses and translators and a little girl with her head all wrapped in a bandage, dancing the chicken dance right in the face of all this pain.
It's hard to get used to it.
.....

And speaking of classy, there's just one more day to register for the giveaway. Don't miss your chance to win a little piece of Africa! I've been having so much fun hearing from so many of you who don't normally comment. It's amazing to hear about people who've adopted from Africa, people who have a heart for this continent, people who've done hilarious, dangerous things and people who think that jaywalking somehow counts towards living life on the edge. (coughDinacough) I think I'll definitely be doing this again soon.
I was just bemoaning my lame life to my husband last night and though he agrees that we don't exactly live dangerously, he didn't want me to start by walking across the street. he says he loves me too much to let me take the risk!
How beautiful and frail
Are all the days we share
How fragile is this breath of life
Like mist on the field
Will vanish in the wind
All we've come to know
Fades before our eyes
And what tomorrow brings
Who of us can say
Beyond this sorrow mixed with light
For somewhere in between
The beauty and the tears
This is where we live our lives
My eyes look to You. You're the hope of my days
My eyes look to You as I cry out Your name
And I wait for all things to be remade
Not every earthly tear
That falls is wiped away
For some are like refining fire
That turn my heart to You, my one desire
Words by Doug McKelvey Music by Steve Green
© 2005 LyricHead.com Songs / BMI / Birdwing Music (admin. by EMI CMG Publishing) / Steve Green Music (admin. by EMI CMG Publishing) / ASCAP
from Steve Green's Somewhere Between
http://www.stevegreenministries.org/music/somewhere_between.php
I read your Blog every morning, my prayer's go out to you and all the people you are helping in far away Africa.You are realy doing God's work, God will bless you alway's.
Love you all on that ship of mercy.