Almost Missed It

Last night, a little after midnight, as I am heading to bed, I realize I had left my phone in the car. I grab a flashlight and walk out onto our lake fly infested porch to get it. As I am approaching our car I can hear my phone ringing inside. The caller ID says its Michael, one of our security guards, who is calling me. Since he is not on duty that night, and the hour is so late, there must be an emergency of some sort. Never a good feeling! So, I answer the phone and Michael explains to me his wife is in extreme pain and asks me if I can take them to the hospital. My flesh is screaming out, “No”, but the Holy Spirit, along with my wife, Leah, win out. Hence, I go pick up Michael and his wife from their home.

As Michael helps his wife into the car, sadly she is screaming in pain. She is seven months pregnant and probably weighs less than 100 lbs. soaking wet. We start down our 5-mile dirt road and with every bump she moans and screams. Needless to say, our road has a lot of bumps.

Within about 30 minutes, we arrive at our nearest local governmental hospital. It is now around 12:45 am. The maternity ward is the only building lit at this time of night. Michael and I carry his wife up the ramp, past three different rooms, which are full of women in labor. Most women have a bed, with a few on mattresses on the floor. The walls are dirty white; the floors concrete and the beds look like they were from a WWII M.A.S.H. unit. The feeling of depression and desperation come over me in a big way. All of these women, suffering alone, and crammed into a room that should have maxed out long ago.

Entering into the main entrance, a nurse asks us if we have our supplies. You see, in Uganda a patient must come to the hospital with their own supplies: 8 pairs of rubber gloves, 2 plastic bags and a roll of cotton. However, we did not have these things. Michael explains they had purchased them but left them at home. Seeing how she is only 7 months pregnant he did not think they were needed at this time. This did not matter. What happened next still plays through my head and rips my heart out. The nurse proceeds to berate his wife, who by the way is still crying out in pain, for not bringing in the items. The nurse says she can’t see her unless we have them in our possession. We try to convince her to examine her while we go get them, but she refuses to look at her until we have what is needed in hand. Thankfully, she tells us of two places nearby, which are open 24 hours, where we can buy all we shall need. Michael and I head out. The first place nets us only 3 pairs of rubber gloves. The second place is worse. We walk in and can’t find an employee anywhere. We decide to head back with only our 3 pairs of gloves and hope the nurse will see her.

As we enter the hospital we can hear Michael’s wife crying. She is still sitting in the same spot, in the same amount of pain. We explain to the nurse why we don’t have the items she requested and ask her to see us anyways. She begrudgingly agrees to do so. After she examines her, she reports to us that she needs lab work done, but it can’t be done until the morning. “Go into the ward and find a bed”, she tells us. As we head out into the courtyard I ask Michael to find a bed for his wife while I wait with her.

I am more than slightly annoyed at this point – The degrading way in which the nurse is talking to Michael’s wife, the fact of a hospital not carrying the needed supplies, Michael having to go a find a bed for his wife, and it is 2:30 am. Prayers for Michael’s wife and prayers for my attitude fill my heart.

From where we are standing in the courtyard, we can see into one of the wards. It is a room that contains about 30 beds, each one with a laboring mother, and a few lying on mattresses on the floor. Due to the hour, most of the women are sleeping, some are in active labor, and there is one woman who is standing by the door closest to us, which has a large glass window at the top, and a wooden bottom. All of a sudden she lets out a loud scream. Three other moms come running over to her. There are no medical personnel in that room. A few seconds later the baby drops from the mother’s womb. Due to the wooden bottom of the door, I can’t see if the baby hits the floor or if one of the other moms catches it. There is a cry for a pair of scissors and the umbilical cord is cut. One of the mothers grabs the silent baby and runs out the door, right by us, with the mother of the baby right behind them. All three of them disappear into the same exam room where we had just been earlier. After what seems like an eternity the baby starts to cry. As I look around at the others standing near us no one is shocked at the events that just transpired in front of all of us. Again, the weight of the depression and desperation is almost too much.

Meanwhile Michael finds his wife a bed in one of the lower wards. We take her down and get her settled in. Between his limited English, my limited Luganda, the early morning hours and the fear that Michael is feeling, the ride back home was more quiet than not.

Michael lives in a little house right in front of one of the witch doctors in our village. We pull up in front of his house and before Michael gets out of the car I ask him if I could pray. He welcomes the suggestion. So, I start praying for him and his wife when all of a sudden the car begins rocking back and forth like someone big is pushing on the side of the car. Immediately, I stop praying and look in my mirrors, out all of the windows and see no one. The car continues to rock back and forth. At this point I have a real strong sense this is demonic and I must continue to pray. As I start to pray again the shaking stops. Michael heads into his house and I head home.

Arriving back at Cherish, I have this overwhelming sense of peace. I know it sounds crazy after the hours I had spent with this suffering woman and the demonic encounter. But it was if in the mist of the storm I knew that I knew, suffering is real and hard, the demonic world is real and hard and yet God is real and good…great…mighty. He does have the power to defeat the enemy and God does have the power to heal Michael’s wife. And that same power is available to me if I only ask. I would have missed that if I had been too tired to take them to the hospital, too critical to look beyond the poor care in the ward, or too selfish to see all that God is doing and can do. So I ask you, are you seeing all that is happening around you? And in the midst of it, do you see how all of it is spiritual? God is connected to it all, wants to speak to you through it and wants to make His presence felt and known, no matter how desperate it may feel. As your world starts to rock, keep on praying. As the situation around you continues to go down hill, don’t stop seeking Him. He wants to bring peace and healing.