lunes, 25 de enero de 2010

Behind the Mask... Part Two

“Ok… now please ask her to apply pressure to spot so I can see the pus come out.” instructed the Optometrist.

“Toca la cara acá para enseñarnos como sale el pus por favor” the words without emotion somehow escaped my mouth with ease.

It seemed to me that I could have translated anything gross or hard after the morning I had with the little five year old boy. Telling a crying mother and her crying son that there was nothing we could do for his left eye which after an accident at school contained a piece of glass was almost unbearable but with God given grace I was able to relay the horrific message. His retina was entirely destroyed and the only surgery he would be having would be to completely remove his eye. So now, utterly drained from all known emotion, I was translating for a young girl with a blocked passage in her tear duct.

As her hand reached toward her face I turned my head away telling God…. I can’t do this. I can’t watch this. This is so disgusting…. Then after the doctor was satisfied he thanked her in his broken Spanish, causing me to turn my head around and repair the damage he had just done to the Spanish language. However, as I turned my head I felt an undeniable sense of shame and guilt. Immediately, I pushed these emotions back and tried to block out the voices in my head as I finished translating for this consultation. This same scene then repeated itself two or three more times that day. And each time I turned my head as the patient showed the doctor the mucus I felt terrible and convicted. It wasn’t until later when I had a heart to heart with God that I realized what exactly I was doing and the implication of my actions. Moreover, it wasn’t until I put myself in the patients’ shoes that I realized that the only disgusting thing was not the pus coming out of the blocked tear duct however it was my turning my head away each time when they were showing us something that was probably really embarrassing and vulnerable for them to do. Sorrow and Regret fought on the battlefield of my heart as I grasped the emotions that I would have felt if I was them. Honestly, I would have felt rejection. This thought and feeling hit me hard like a bat and I found myself asking for forgiveness and pleading for help to conquer this problem. God proved faithful and merciful as ever as grace showered down on me that dark cold night in Chiapas. But along with God’s grace that night came an important lesson. God pointed me to a passage regarding Jesus’ response to person with a physical health problem…. Allow me to paint a picture for you….

Jesus Christ was traveling throughout Galilee, preaching in synagogues and performing miracles when a man with leprosy approached him. In Biblical times, people who contracted leprosy were banished from society, forced to live on the outskirts. People were afraid to have any kind of contact with these suffering victims. To demonstrate the extremeness of isolation between society and the lepers, the lepers had to follow strict rules such as calling out “Unclean” if they happened to approach someone on the road. Ok so now that you have an idea of how people considered lepers I’ll return to the story. So this man, this outcast of society, approached Jesus and falls at his feet pleading for a miracle, pleading that Jesus would make Him clean. You and I have absolutely no doubt that the Son of Man has the power to heal this man. We see in the scriptures that He healed many from their physical afflictions. No medical case was too hard for Jesus to do for He healed many simply by breathing the words and the following are some examples….

He said to the paralytic, “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home. He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all”...... He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, “Ephphatha!” (which means, Be opened!). At this, the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly…... “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.”Immediately he received his sight…... He said, “Young man, I say to you, get up!” The dead man sat up and began to talk…

Undeniably, there is divine power in Jesus’ words and a Centurion who came to Jesus one day understood this as he said, “Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof… But say the word, and my servant will be healed.” Words that heal people are something to notice and be awed by. So you can imagine the simplicity that it would take for our man with leprosy to be healed, right? All Jesus had to do was to speak a word or two for this outcast to be miraculously cured of this terrible disease. And yes Jesus did speak a few words and this man was healed but what Jesus did before breathing a single word of healing is what astounded me that night in Chiapas. The word of God says “Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man (Mark 1:41).” Need I say more? He touched him. My Jesus didn’t have to touch him but He did. He could have easily spoken the words like so many other times but Jesus Christ, the son of God, the author and perfecter of my faith, my example and my King, touched the man with leprosy. I prayed that night that God would work on my heart and teach me to love like Christ… and little did I know as I ever do what was to come….. and in this case, it would come the next day….

The following morning God with the voice of Dr. Sherman laid the following task before me.

Dr. Sherman said, “Brooke, you are my angel from Cordoba. You did such a great job with the mother and her five year son. Now I will be operating for the next hour but I need you to do some translating for me. Go down stairs and there is a young man there in the waiting room who is burned. Now we wont be able to do anything for him but maybe relieve a little of his pain. I need you to go down there and ask him some questions. Ask him what happened. Ask what hurts the most. I need background information and I will come look at him when I get done with the surgery.”

I know, sweet reader, you can already tell where this is going. I will go ahead and say that words cannot describe the shape I found this young man in but I will try. I took my time walking down the perilous flight of narrow stairs wondering what I was about to experience and going through some basic Spanish vocabulary in mind, figuring out how I was going to word certain questions. I opened the door at the bottom stairs, allowing the wind full access to my face and welcoming the sunshine with great delight. It was a beautiful day and I was pleased as I peered out to see that half the seats where family members were waiting under a tent were vacant. This was good considering this was the last day for operating. I turned to my right and made my way to the designated room for patients waiting to be seen. The chairs that snaked the small room were almost all full. Before I entered I staked out the room from the small window on the door, trying to figure out which one was my burnt victim. My instinct went with the young looking guy, seated in the corner, with a black knit hat, red jacket, blue jeans, and with a medical mask covering his face. A modern day man with leprosy one could have thought… And curious enough there was a vacant seat next to him. Slowly but assuredly, I made my way to the corner with each set of eyes that I passed following me, wondering why I was skipping them because they knew how closely I was with working with their doctor.

I took a seat and asked for his record as I searched his eyes to see if they would give away the answer. His eyes seemed to be unhurt but melancholy and this was confirmed as I glanced down at his record and noted that he was not here for an eye check up but for another medical condition. I took a mental breath, suddenly realizing that this was going to be tougher than my experiences yesterday and then with a new found strength and compassion I proceeded with simple introductions and started with the questions that I had already formulated in my mind during my trip down the stairs.

His name: Sergio
His age: Just nineteen

He was very closed off to me at first. His arms were folded, his head inclined, his mouth hidden, and his body seemed to be scrunched as he sat uncomfortably in pain in the metal chair. I gently asked what happened and his eyes meet mine for only a moment of silence and then he began to explain the horrific accident. He couldn’t remember many details but he told me that it happened five months ago while he was doing his job. He was working on electric cables and then the next thing he remembers is waking up in a hospital bed with his life forever changed. I then asked where he hurts the most and this is where the work that God had done on my heart the previous night paid off because I had never seen anything in my life as horrific and heart-wrenching including things I’ve seen in horror movies and in my worst nightmares. To answer my question he wanted to show me so he first took off the mask uncovering his mouth which was so badly burned and his lips were so badly swollen. I felt pain just by observing the condition of his face and this also led me to understand the reason for wearing the mask. He quickly put the mask back on not wasting a second of unnecessary exposure and then he told me his ear hurts badly too. He lifted up the black knit hat just enough for me to make out the place where his ear use to be. His ear looked as if it was almost completely melted in the now discolored skin on the side of his face. Then he so carefully pulled back the sleeves of his jacket to show me his arms and unbuttoned his shirt to show me his stomach. The burns covered his body like a quilt blanket, discoloring the skin like patchwork and leaving enormous blisters. I could not believe what I was seeing but I made sure my eyes never left him especially when he looked up at me because in those moments I wanted to be sending him inaudible messages of acceptance and love.

It’s hard to explain but I loved this stranger from Chiapas and I wanted to reach out to him and to touch him. I could only imagine the looks of people and maybe even friends and family that he has received. I could only imagine not only the physical pain but also the emotional pain of having your appearance completely altered for the worst. I could only imagine what it felt like to in a sense have leprosy and to be an outcast to society. Because without the grace and compassion of my God, I am fearful that my looks would have mirrored the condition his body was in. And despite every fleshly instinct to turn my head and run, I was overwhelmed with the compassion that followed these thoughts so much that I reached out and touched his leg, the only part of his body unaffected by the electrocution. And no, complete healing to his body did not come after that. I don’t pretend to be Jesus. But I know one thing that did come and that was love and acceptance. I wanted him to feel loved. I wanted him to feel accepted. And with a touch and a look of compassion you never know the ways God can reach a heart. We are to be the hands and feet of God while we are on this earth. And in that moment I knew that if not for anyone else or anything else God sent me to Mexico to touch Sergio and to tell him that there is a reason that he is still breathing and that reason is that God has a plan for his life.

miércoles, 20 de enero de 2010

Behind the Mask ... Part One



“Your eyes… They are made of so many different colors… Why?” the boy behind the mask asked.

“I don’t know. It’s the way God made me” I responded.

Within fifteen minutes our conversation which started out tense with hard questions and even tougher answers took a slight curve right becoming a charla between two new friends instead of a questionnaire between a doctor’s assistant and patient. Then as on cue and without explanation, the roomful of waiting patients suddenly got up from their seats and left the room. This was done for no apparent reason other than God wanting Sergio and I to talk freely and without listening ears. So naturally I took my own cue and propped up my tired feet on the now vacant seat in front of me and began to shoot the breeze with my new friend. Spanish filled the air with questions and answers about family, jobs, hometowns, and sports including futbol americano and WWF. Sergio already had a soft place in my heart by the mere fact of sharing the same name of a beloved friend in Honduras but with each passing minute I felt closer and I felt more love for this stranger, this boy behind the mask, than I have ever felt for someone else. In those precious moments I found myself overwhelmed with wanting him to know the truth.

So much that I abruptly blurted out, “You know there is a reason you are still alive. I am so happy that you are alive. God has plans for you. There is a reason.”

His eyes turned brilliant with intrigue and hope, and that same hunger which I had seen so many times in so many faces over the years was irrefutable.

Encouraged by his eager eyes I went on, “I have to leave now to go back home but can I please share something with you before I go?”

My heart hung on what that answer would be but I didn’t have to wait long because he immediately answered sí so I proceeded with great joy sharing the good news with him. When I finished presenting the gospel he looked at me and softly spoke the following words: “You know many people from different religions came to visit me in the hospital after the accident but nobody talked about God the way you have today with me.”

Unwillingly, I had to leave my friend but I left him with a copy of the word of God and by the time everything was packed and in the truck I went back one more time to the waiting room. I found him there alone and half way through the book of John. Praise God.. Amen...


I am grateful to my God for bringing me unexpectantly to Chiapas this past weekend. Without a doubt in my mind there was a purpose behind the crazy series of events that unfolded, allowing me a place in the truck to make the eight hour trip. And I firmly believe that one of those purposes was to meet this boy behind the mask. And the truth is I am not sure if he was the one needing me more than I was the one needing him. Sweet reader, you will understand the reasons for this in the next blog.
Please pray for my friend Sergio.