Easter is always very special to me. It is my special
“Valentine’s day" with Jesus, Lover of my soul. Over many years Jesus and I
have exchanged Easter gifts. Here are some of His gifts to me:
- 1985, the gift of His resurrection power as I struggled in learning to once again live my daily life in recovery from viral encephalitis; He raised me to once again be able to think and walk and do
- 1986, the gift of love shared with Jeff Stanfield
- 1989, the gift of hope evidenced in the birth of our daughter on Easter eve
- 1991, the gift of faith as we celebrated our first Easter in Africa, at our new home in Tenwek
- 1996, the gift of the empty tomb at our first Easter with Mom Stanfield in heaven
- 2009, the gift of joy as I mourned in our first Easter with our daughter far away on another continent
- 2013, the gift of fellowship through our first Easter in the “strangeness” of learning to live in Uganda
And this year, as Lent was soon to begin, Christ quietly invited
me to go into a whole new place with Him. I admit that I was reluctant at
first, saying within myself that I hoped I didn’t have to go. I didn’t really
want to partake of that particular “cup.” I was willing to let it pass. But the
more I listened to Christ, the more I knew He was inviting me to join Him
there…and how could I not?
And so it came about that I found this year’s Easter gift
from my loving Heavenly Father within the boundaries of a local hospital in
Kampala. Within that place I saw some of the best; surgeries that corrected
deficiencies, loving care that brought smiles to faces and hope to hearts,
resources used in appropriate and timely ways, drugs “curing” illnesses and
satisfied clients heading home.
Within that place I saw some of the worst; horrible wounds
that will leave inner and outer scars forever, malnourished children crying
with hunger, weeping mothers, babies with burn injuries and family members heading
home without the loved one they left in the morgue.
I experienced a wide range of emotions throughout my weeks
of orientation in the hospital. I enjoyed “doing nursing” again. I felt
desperate for God’s intervention. I longed for relief for myself
and my clients when the situation was difficult at best. I felt peace in God’s
Presence throughout it all. I felt angst when others didn’t seem to sense the
urgency for intervention that I did. I
felt anxious while trying to get a venous catheter into a child’s vein. I felt
profound sorrow as others experienced loss. I felt a sense of pride when I
successfully placed the first IV I have inserted in years. I felt overcome with
love for my Saviour as I heard the choir singing in the hospital chapel. I felt
great joy in seeing the wide smile of a frustrated mother who could not speak a
language understood by the staff until she realized I was understanding her
Kiswahili.
Through it all I sensed Christ guiding, encouraging and
strengthening me. I felt Him nudging me to “look deeper” in each facial
expression and each situation. When I felt reluctant in the early morning
darkness to return to the unfamiliar for another day, I pictured scenes of
Jesus walking the Via Dolorosa and somehow found His courage in me to go on. If
He could do that for me, I could do this with Him.
Gradually I became aware, experiencing a dawning realization
that my gift from Him is that very “with-ness” of Him. My heart has been
longing for more of being with Him since I came to this city. It has been hard
learning to live well within the walled and gated, noisy and fast-paced city. I
was already in a very new place, but Christ took me to an even more foreign
environment to help me find the more familiar...more of Him. The absence of
fear gives testimony to His perfect Love. More of Him, of His abiding Presence,
His being with me. Another cherished
gift, one that I shall draw from all the days of my life.
Christine
