So. It's been quite the adventure here in the Baja. One of those adventures that hasn't really gone according to my plans... but then it wouldn't be an adventure, would it? I came down here to serve – and I'm stuck in bed for a week sick? What? But what's so amazing is that no matter where you are Jesus is there too. Can I share a quick story?
Last week I was sick and in the bathroom a lot. When it cleared thought it was just a virus, and then it came back Monday morning, causing my mom to think that it was bacteria-related. So after being up since 2 am throwing up Mom got me into the car at around 7:30 and we drove through town to the government hospital.
Note: 'government hospital' does not mean America's government hospitals. No, there is a big difference between the American hospital and the Mexican hospital. And a big difference between medical terminology in English and medical terminology in Spanish.
So we get to the hospital. I laugh thinking about how horrified my grandmother would be to discover me being treated there... it was not the most sanitary. And this was a nice hospital. Yet now I was trying not to throw up because of the smell, not just because I was sick. I was surrounded by dirty walls, dirty floors, dirty clothes, dirty people. Yet here I found Jesus. In a place where no one spoke a lick of English there happened to be one man – who looked like he was about to die – who spoke my language. And the first thing he asks me? If I'm a Christian, and if his pastor could pray for me to be healed. So up comes the pastor, lays hands on my head, and begins to pray for me in Spanish. I so felt the Spirit there.
I sat there a while, trying not to get even more sick, leaning my head on Mom as I tried to keep warm. Another note: don't wear shorts in the morning. Mexico mornings are very, very cold. So Mom is standing next to me, and the pastor who had previously prayed for me said something to two men who were seated next to me. They got up, and offered Mom their seats. And then the hearts of these people... it was beautiful. They asked me to go before all of them (and there were a lot of people in there waiting to be seen!) to see the doctor. I nearly cried. I still had to wait a while to see the doctor, but that they would offer for me to go first... I don't know, but it touched me. So then comes the doctor's office. She was a nice woman, dressed well and clean. I'm trying to forget that she didn't wear any gloves or didn't wash her hands before feeling my stomach, but some things are different here. :) I was so grateful that even though I can't speak a lot of Spanish, I can understand most of what is being spoken to me (depending on what is being spoken to me), and that she spoke a tiny little bit of English. It was enough to communicate, and she confirmed what Mom thought. It was a bacterial thing. She prescribed an anti-biotic, and as I'm taking it I asked Mom, "Do we believe in anti-biotics?" Yes, I'm not used to taking medicine, so taking something to kill the bacteria in my stomach is a little different. :)
But this morning I am doing so much better. I have been prayed for by so many people, blessed beyond measure by the things people are doing to make sure I'm okay, and am expectant to learn exactly what the Lord is teaching me through all this. Because it's part of His plan. This was not a surprise to Him, though it wasn't on my schedule. But it really was just amazing to see Jesus even in the place where I felt Him the least. Where I felt so alone, scared, and sick. He is always there! Isn't that such an encouragement? To know that the God of the universe is here for us? That He is for us, in general? I am so blessed by that knowledge. To know that He knew this was coming. That He has it all under control. That He is there. Here. With me. And with you. So rejoice in all things.
Be blessed, and comforted, by that fact today.
me, O LORD, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou my praise.