Category: Hospital Ministry

A Layne Post

I remember the first day that two little girls came running down the driveway of the hospital. They were accompanied by the usual boys, who were excitedly shouting, “Tio Jon!” as they ran. Somehow in the beginning Jon and I became ‘Tio Jon’, yes, me included. It seems to have changed recently, however, when I met these little girls, we were still ‘Tio Jon’.

Their names were Rudu and Esperança. I had never met them before, but it didn’t matter; they each grabbed one of my hands as if we had been buddies for years. Their giggles would melt your heart. Just two little girls… two friends who liked to run and play.

Rudu

Rudu has a large tumor on her face, making one of her cheeks look large and puffy. She is a bit shy, seemingly self-conscious of her condition; however, she eats up attention as much as the others. She gives sweet hugs and loves to be in your lap. Her eyes are beautiful and smile when her tumor keeps her lips from doing so.

Esperança

Esperança was the exact opposite of Rudu. She was loud and unhindered in everything that she did. She was all smiles, even while missing her front teeth; it was precious. She would squeal and yell, even when it was terribly inappropriate. Her energy was contagious.

For a couple of weeks the girls joined me in some of my visits with the ladies. They would sit in my lap or hang on the side of me; they just needed some physical touch. At times the sick women would be bothered by Esperança, and I couldn’t blame them, though I was unable to keep myself from smiling when I looked at her toothless grin. She was easy to love.

Esperança died this last week. Even though she had cancer, she died of pneumonia. The lack of her presence will be felt immensely. As for Rudu, she may be the next to go, as she has taken a turn for the worse. Her tumor grows more each week. Her sweet smile is gone, and even Anaya cannot bring it. It breaks my heart. She can no longer eat solid foods because the tumor is crowding her mouth. It brings memories of José Manuel.

Please pray for Esperança’s family.

Please pray for Rudu.

A Layne Post

I will not soon forget the sound of the clapping and cheers that welcomed Anaya and me as we approached our friends at the hospital for the first time as Mom and daughter. Everyone gathered around waiting to get a peek, to touch her little foot poking out of the sling, to grab my hands and kiss my cheeks.

Originally we planned to wait a little longer; however, I received news that two of the ladies I have known for months would be heading home over the weekend. I could not stand to think they would never meet Anaya; they had been such a part of my pregnancy, sharing in the joys of new ultrasound pictures, worrying and praying with me when her heartbeat was irregular. So we decided to make an exception and go early.

Anaya in her sling

We planned our trip during her nap time, hoping she would sleep in her sling. This would allow people to see her precious face, yet hopefully reducing the requests to hold her, as we still want to protect her little immune system. She did beautifully. A few women still asked for me to ‘give her to them’ or to ‘borrow her to them’, but I was able to say no, and for the most part the women were gracious.

It was a delight to see the joy my daughter brought to the faces of the sick. Even those in bed on treatment wanted a peek at this precious little girl, and when they got a glimpse, smiles would emerge across their tired faces. I worried a bit that the smells may bother her, but she didn’t even flinch. She did sweat like crazy in her sling, but that is part of life getting out and about in Maputo and, thankfully, it doesn’t seem to bother her too much; she is already hard-core. Ha!

We’ll take it slow, transitioning Anaya and me back into ministry, but it is an exciting step! For now I think we’ll aim at once a week and continue to see how it goes. In the African culture, which is probably not so unique to other cultures, me having a baby is a bridge between our differences; suddenly we have so much in common! I look forward to deeper relationships with Mozambican ladies, because of this new season of life that God has brought me into.

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Thanks for your ongoing prayers and support, both emotionally and financially. There have been some things lately that have reminded me how blessed Jon and I are to have such a network of supporters that keep us on the field. You are on my heart. May the Lord pour out His blessing  and presence upon you. We love you!

A Jon Post

It really was always just a matter of time.

Lucia and her father went home almost two months ago when the hospital here decided there was nothing further to be done for her. She wanted to go home and be with her family.

She died on Friday.

Lucia and her smile

It was always just a matter of time.

Lucia smiled a lot. Maybe she learned it from her father who did the same. When she had toxin dripping into her veins to fight the cancer in her body she seemed to teeter on the verge of eternity but always, after her treatment ended she would bounce back and smile again.

It was always just a matter of time.

While we don’t and can’t forget her, we honestly didn’t know her THAT well. We knew her in her time at the hospital but her life with her family, with her friends, in school, the games she played… we didn’t know.

So we’ve started a project, if only a personal one.

This week I spent many hours sitting with little Tomé whom I’ve written about before. With his eager help, I’ve started writing down the story of his life, as much as I can. Where he grew up, how his mother makes food in the home, how far he and his family have to walk to get water to cook and clean, his favorite class in school (it’s math by the way) what his house is shaped like, what kind of food grows in his father’s farm, and much much more.

We want to know people’s lives beyond the short part of it we see when they come here (too often to die). We want to know and hear the life part of it.

So starting this last week I’ve started taking a notebook with me and taking small notes. We want to remember the voices that we hear, even long after they’ve gone on to wait for us to join them with Christ.

There are many voices of the world.

We’re just writing down a few of them.

But please don’t forget Lucia’s.

Goodbye sweet friend