We spent more time at the hospital this week. It doesn’t seem worth mentioning any more, as it’s quite commonplace. This family went with two patients: the father was diagnosed with gout in his foot, and the seventeen-month-old son had pneumonia and was admitted for two days. He was just discharged today and sent on his way.
This story is really only noted because I went to help them get home today and, of course, had another opportunity to learn the goodness of God.
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Most of what I read is about development: political development, economic development, social development. I read why aid is harmful from a secular analysis and biblical perspective.
In just two weeks I am speaking on charity and development, addressing how individuals can participate in development from where they are.
It is a lot of theories: well-researched; biblically sound; wisely phrased and beautifully presented. Some theories even include stories: stories of data and change, measurements of this and that. Most are theories; very few tell the stories of people–with names and faces and families.
I read these theories most days; I attempt to write them into applicable tools and then I teach them.
And then I go home to something very different. I go home to faces, names, and families: the place where theories are confronted.
So many theories push development, sustainability; all the over-used buzz words that we know are good.
I won’t argue any differently: development is good; sustainability is good.
Theoretical approaches try to take the complicated histories, cultures, faults, dreams and complicated lives of people and communities and create a streamline solution.
And they come up with really good ones!
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Nearly every time we end up at the hospital, I realize that this isn’t a solution. Sure, we have helped one {child-adult-family}, but what about the next? We can’t afford for everyone to need treatment, in time or money. Where are the boundaries? What is our plan?
But as I think this each and every time, God meets me in a new way.
When we had our first neighbor admitted to the hospital, I was really fearful about the money. I know hospitals are much less money here, but still, can we afford healthcare for fifty people? Or even one, for nearly a week in the hospital including surgery?!
In the end, the man headed home just before we arrived to discharge him. He found his own way home and left the bill. For the time being, I was really thankful for how God provided. It wasn’t a sustainable solution–I couldn’t knowingly let them walk out on a bill repeatedly. But for this time, he had made the decision without us and we were left with no options to pay. God had provided, uniquely; and I felt he made clear that we were to trust him.
Another baby went to the hospital for an overnight and surgery on an abscess; this time I felt God clearly said to pay for it. I could tell you where I was standing and how clearly I felt that my responsibility was to pay the bill in full and trust. I did so. And we’re still paying rent and eating meals, so somehow it was provided for.
In January we had a little girl that was diagnosed with pneumonia and needed to be checked for tuberculosis. In this case, God had put this family on my heart the previous week. They have a rough family life–rough enough that the entire community knows of the drinking binges and shouting matches. The kids have been removed from the home a few times for their own safety in the midst of marital fights. As we listened to a fight and saw the children’s faces one night, I prayed for an opportunity to love on those kids. Within a week, the youngest was sick and the entire family stayed up at the hospital for five days. Each day we were given the opportunity to come with smiles, treats, and toys for them.
Yet again with a multiple-day stay in the ward, I was worried for the expenses. And this time a dear friend in town–familiar with the systems here–told us about the office for welfare assistance in the hospital. We can pay a certain reduced rate–we just send the family in with what they can afford. We are able to give it to them and send them off to defend themselves and speak on their own. It worked beautifully–it was more affordable for us and enabled them to stand on their own.
And then this trip: another baby admitted for pneumonia. This week I have actually not been so worried about the funding: God has continually provided. Instead, my reading was haunting me, making me fearful that we were enabling them and doing too much for them. And this time? The family called us this morning. They had discharged themselves and sorted out the medicine with the doctor. They had spoken to the welfare office on their own and paid the portion they could on the bill; they just asked if we could help with another small portion. They had their own transportation home and had sorted out everything; I simply helped with the final part of the bill and went back to work.
I know these are story after story; minute details that really aren’t so interesting. But as I drove back from the hospital today, each story went through my mind.
There was no system or cookie-cutter answer. We have never had the same situation happen twice. And with each and every situation that arrives on our porch–truly each and every one–I know at least one theory that disagrees with the approach we took. At times it would be much harder to find a theory that does agree with our decisions and actions.
But each and every time, God has confirmed in us that we did the right thing. I suppose the only theme is trust–that God had us, he was speaking, he was orchestrating the entire situation. And he has blessed us with the ability to walk away confidently, with no regrets or defenses.
We have been asked many questions about our community:
How much have we invested in them already? [We have no idea.]
If we pay for this medical need, how will we pay for the next? [We have no idea.]
Do we have a plan? [Not really. At times we have, but they’ve rarely gone accordingly.]
Is this sustainable? [Mostly no; if we’re measuring logically.]
If you weren’t here, what would they do? [I don’t know. Potentially figure it out themselves and making do on their own. Potentially more would be dying or sick, but that could be giving ourselves too much credit.]
Are you enabling them? [The short version? Maybe.]
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I don’t think theoretical analysis is wrong or negative; I don’t think we should be naive of them. I will continue to study and teach; holding onto the same ideals for development. And really, I will continue to think many theories are quite clever and introspective of society.
But I am molding in this: there is more power and validity in the Holy Spirit speaking in each moment than in any theory or plan created by man at any level of research. There is something really beautiful in each and every event requiring a new level of trust. There is something pure in each and every opportunity delivering a new taste of God’s goodness to me; and [I pray and hope and trust] that somehow each opportunity is exhibiting God’s goodness to others as well, perhaps teaching more than any theory-following ever could.