Sadness.

I wasn't going to post today because I have already done 2 in a row. But today was rough.

I got a last minute call to help a team from Impact Ministries translate at the Coban Hospital. I wasn't busy, so I went. I've helped them before, and it can be sad to see the sick kids, but I like the interactions with the families. We go to the Pediatric Ward, split into groups, then meet each family and pray for each child.

Next, we go to the Maternity Ward and give gifts to all the new moms, and last we head to the nursery to hold babies. Sound fun, right?

But this time was different.

I have been struggling recently with sadness. At times it can be overwhelming for me. I see how hard it is for so many people. Lives here are difficult. And it goes on for generation after generation. And I can't change everyone's life. To see it so clearly on such a regular basis has made me for the most part accustomed to it, though not immune.

Today we went into the Maternity Ward and a lot of the mothers didn't have their babies with them. They were in the nursery. So we would ask if they had their baby, they would tell me s/he was in the other room, and we would leave the gift.

At one point I saw a large family start to pray with one of the groups on the team. They were crying, so I assumed a baby had died. I tried to stay away to be honest. It is just too sad. Then we went to the next section of beds. There were 3 ladies and one man. He told me that one of the women had lost her baby. We went to her to hand her a bag of gifts (specially packed for those who had lost their babies. It had no baby items in it) and she refused. The man explained to her in her Mayan language that it was for her. She took the bag then went to thank me and I held out my arm in the traditional Mayan greeting of mutually patting each others upper arms. As I turned to go away she pulled me strongly into a hug and kissed my cheek. This is rare for Mayans. I hugged her back tightly.

I started to cry and had to move away. Even if I could have spoken her language, I didn't know what to say. As I think about it now, I hate that I moved away from her so quickly. But her grief was becoming mine and I didn't know how to handle it. How ridiculously North American of me to think that I had to hide my tears from her. I wanted a simple fix and there isn't one. That baby is gone.

Later I was thinking of an episode of the show Call The Midwife. In the first episode a new nurse-midwife, from a good area of town, is working in the poor area of London. She sees things she had no idea about and she struggles with dealing with it. As she talks to the head nun, she says "I didn't know people lived like this." The nun replies, "But they do. And it's why we're here."

And although that is a big part of why I'm here, I'm also here to spread hope. God loves each one of His suffering children, and I believe that we are all suffering in one way or another at some point in our lives. If I hurt this badly for the people, how much more does He hurt for us, and want the best for our lives? So that is what I need to focus on.