So many questions...so few answers

I can’t believe that in just over a month the ship will set sail from Togo. Where has the time gone? I never thought that I could experience so many emotions, so much heartache and so much joy in such a short space of time.

The time has suddenly come upon me where I am left wondering what will happen to my patients when I leave. I have built up a deep sense of affection and trust with many of them. At each visit Ayabavi walks towards me, arms outstretched, greeting me with a loving embrace. She will often put her hands on my heart and then on hers as if to say, ‘We are linked, you and I’. Never before have I felt such a huge burden of responsibility for the ongoing care of my patients and to provide care and support where none is available. There are so many questions and not many answers. Sometimes I think it would have been easier to have never given them the support. To never have given them a few months free from pain. To never let them know what it feels like when someone cares enough to visit every week despite all the social stigmas.

A couple of weeks ago we told the father of one of them that it is likely that she will die soon (but most probably not before we leave). We watched his eyes fill with tears and his voice break with emotion, his love for his daughter clearly evident in his face. Now I wonder who will be there for this father in his daughter’s final days, to encourage him and support him in his grief? I wonder whether all this time spent with these few was really worth it – to give them some comfort only for it to be snatched away.

I have heard this story told in several different ways since I have been here. It is adapted from a book called “The Star Thrower” by Loren Eiseley:

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."
"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "I made a difference to that one!"

So many times we end up thinking “What can one person like me do?”, “Will I really make a difference?”. In Africa there is so much need and often the scale of it is overwhelming. Gods plan for my life often does not seem to fit with my ideals. When I was preparing to come out here, I had visions of feeling a sense of joy at seeing people changed because of my care. That joy is there but it has been mixed with a large dose of desperation and hopelessness. But then God stepped in this week and reminded me that I am here for HIS purposes. That I should not presume to understand why he has put me in contact with these few people, or why I can only help them in such a small way. I am here to touch the lives of the few and to reflect something of Jesus in my words and my actions. And then he reminded me of Matthew 25:40, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” Though my work seems small and insignificant to me, in the eyes of Jesus it is something beautiful.

Please pray for my patients over the next few weeks, that I can find the support both spiritual and financial that they need and for people who will continue to love and cherish them once I am gone.