A Layne Post

How could I not?

I love when the Holy Spirit makes it that easy, that obvious.

There she lay under sheet, naked and wet. Without control of her bladder, it was nearly impossible to keep her clean. She had been discharged two days before, but without the ability to walk she was dependent on her family to pick her up. Like most, they use our crowded public transport, making it difficult to lay her down to actually get her home. Still, the promise of their arrival kept her hoping. Surely she wouldn’t stay forever, right? Her home is about 5 minutes out of the way of my usual route home… not far. I have a car.

There seemed like no other option: I would take her home.

Thanks to the resources my partner Alice has, we were able to put a diaper and new clothes on her. She looked refreshed, full of hope and energy. Funny how a little pampering makes one feel human. With the help of staff and volunteers she was carried down the stairs and leaned far back in my front seat. I would need a few directions so she would need to see the way, otherwise we would have laid her in the back.

Her frail body was layered in gray pants, a white tank top, and a heavy black sweater, and yet still she was cool. I didn’t have the heart to turn the air conditioning on. My enlarged pregnant body began to protest almost immediately. Sweat began to pour from my forehead as the sun beat through the windshield. It must of been bad because she commented through a concerned look, “You’re sweating.” I gently laughed and brushed it off as part of my pregnancy, “I’m always so hot!” yet inside beginning to panic wondering if it is possible for to make the whole way without frantically flinging my door open, falling out of the car, gasping for air. That would be humiliating.Thankfully that didn’t happen.

After missing the turn the first time and going terribly out of the way to turn around, we finally arrived. The car was unable to reach their home, as usual in these neighborhoods, only a large dirt road nearby. She would have to be carried down the narrow path that led to her red and teal home, and, while this preggo lady has a big heart and a lot of will, I wasn’t sure I could do it. Thankfully a nephew was nearby who placed her gently on his back.

Her family seemed grateful; she seemed relieved. There I left her, leaning in a tattered leather chair, with a promise of my soon return.

The next couple of days I stopped by for visits, mainly to make sure someone was taking care of her and to drop off a few necessities. Jon and Anaya joined me one day, which blessed the family and neighbors greatly, even though my daughter’s quick whines pierced the awkward silences. She does not handle the stifling heat well either. We brought juice and little cakes (muffins).

Yesterday when I arrived for a visit I could tell the newness and warm feeling of “home” was gone. She is lonely. Set in a back room with the doorway covered by a curtain, laying on a mattress covered in plastic, she lays all day, everyday. The liquid morphine helps keep her out of too much of the physical pain. Her busy family bustles in the rooms around, and, while I don’t know for sure,  I suspect no one comes to sit and talk.

Tomorrow I will take some more diapers, some yogurt, a little bottle of nail polish, and a Bible. We’ll have a little “girl time”. I am intentional about the order of that list. I believe people receive the Word, the message of hope, better when they have their basic needs met. We’ll make sure she is clean, not hungry, feeling like a human again, and then maybe, just maybe, her heart will be ready for some encouragement.

Pray for my new friend Monica. Pray for me to know how best to serve her.