I have never had stitches before—not until today that is…
Today was a day full of the unexpected. We planned to leave early for a trip across
the border to South Africa. However, due
to some political unrest, we decided to postpone our trip. We shifted gears, and Alice and I planned to
spend the afternoon at the hospital with our beloved cancer patients as we
usually do. By 2PM, we were ready to go,
and Jorge offered to drive us.
Maputo is a very windy city; but as the aftermath of a big
storm last night, today was exceptionally windy. When Jorge opened the door of our 14th
floor apartment for us to leave, a tremendous gust of wind came out of “I don’t
know where,” causing the glass window of a second door behind me to
shatter. In an instant, I was showered
by glass. Alice with her mother’s heart
asked if I was hurt. Only then when I
saw her concern did I examine myself for injuries. When I looked down, I noticed a slice on my
right foot. Thankfully, it was not bleeding
severely, but Alice and Jorge thought it would be best to take me to the
hospital and get it looked at. So, I got
another taste of Mozambiquan hospitals—this time as a patient. The nurses and doctor were very kind, and I
ended up with six stitches (give or take a few as I was too engrossed in
watching the procedure to count). While all
this was happening, Jorge called to tell us that the car had broken down. Alice and I caught a taxi back home and once
again found ourselves back in our 14th floor apartment. Yes, I think we were all feeling like we
should have just stayed in bed today.
The scene of the accident: note the door missing all of it's glass window pain.
While Jorge was cleaning up glass and Alice was getting medical supplies, I was sneaking a picture.
Stitches!
Having a little bit too much fun with my super swell doctor. He was so happy to be treating a future nurse. :)
Tada! All ready to heal.
As I was attempting to stay off of my foot as instructed by
the nurse, I had time to do a lot of thinking.
My biggest regret of the day was not being able to see and love on my
friends at the hospital. I like to help
other people through their suffering and problems, but having others help me
through mine is more difficult. This
requires me acknowledging that I have problems.
I came to Mozambique, with a lot of wounds of my own—some that I didn’t
even realize that I had because I had been masking, hiding, and numbing them
for so long. Yet, as I begin to truly
see others’ pain, I begin to feel. Then,
as I begin to feel, I feel my own pain.
Now, more than ever, I want to heal so that I can also help others to
heal. No longer do I want to shut off
emotions or exchange them for more “socially acceptable” ones. I don’t want to deny the existence of pain or
punish myself endlessly for causing it.
Neither do I want to slap a Band-Aid on my wounds and leave a trail of
blood as I run around trying to “help” people.
It is time for stitches.
It is time to accept the grace and care offered to me by God and those
who love me. In the end, I am left with
a scar. Behind every scar is a story of
pain, but a scar also tells the story of healing. I want to allow my scars to enable me to
relate to others better.
Shortly before coming to Mozambique, someone told me that I
was like a peach. “Cute. Sunny.
Sweet. But, there’s a pit inside.
Out of that pit comes new life; a tree
grows. From that pit—fruit is produced.” I think that I am ready now. I am ready to allow beauty and life to arise
from my pit rather than allowing it to rot.
I may need a little watering and nurturing along the way, but
thankfully, my life is filled with nurses, doctors, mothers, fathers, brothers,
sisters, friends, and of course there is you. Thank
you for sticking with me throughout this journey. Thank you for desiring to see me blossom,
bloom, and produce fruit. Thank you for
believing in me even when all there is to see is a pit. Here’s to healing and growth!
love this whole thing! Glad you're foot is ok too girlie! He makes beauty from ashes....:) Thanks for sharing this journey with us....and I love the part about you becoming a nurse....I'd be your patient any day!!
ReplyDelete"Behind every scar is a story of pain, but a scar also tells the story of healing." Such beautiful wisdom, Sweet. I rejoice each time I read of your deepening discovery of God. You are quite lovely. Keep being receptive to the healing.
ReplyDeleteSo I came home today to voices in the other room saying: "Abigail" "stitches" and "hospital" ... needless to say I was expecting the worst, and was prepared to catch the first flight to Africa to save my darling friend. However, it sounds like such drastic measures won't be needed - you seem to be in good hands! ;)
ReplyDeleteToday in class we were learning about Rwanda and the massacres that happened between the Hutu and Tutsi people - I know you're not anywhere near there, or in any similar circumstances, but as I was watching the video I was thinking of you the whole time. All those people had such horrible things happen to them - they were starving and sick and forced to live in the jungle, and I was thinking about how we're over here, sitting comfortably at our desks with our hundred dollar textbooks, and they're dying across the ocean. And then I realized: "Hey, my best friend is in Africa, giving so much of herself to help people like that - she really gets it." WOW. You really understand the meaning of love, Abigail...I'd say we all have a lot to learn from you. I've got a lot to learn from you. Prayers heading your way! Heal up - STAY OFF THAT FOOT.