Can’t You Hear Me?

                           
Meet Alexis. He is thirty-two. He arrived in our hospital, breathing hard. We tried to make him comfortable. We put him on oxygen. We arranged his pillows. We dosed up some meds. As soon as  we left his bed, he called out, “Nurse, nurse! Come here. Don’t you see me?”
   So we returned. We arranged his pillows. Again. His eyes are still peeled back. He is afraid. We talked to him about becoming a Christian.
    We asked him a lot of questions, and tried to figure out his illness. He was swollen in his feet, and he was spitting blood. He had not urinated in a long time. Some days passed like this, because we didn’t have a ride to town. We tried to keep him comfortable. We prayed and dosed up meds.
     Because of his dehydration, we put him on IV, but followed him closely because of his swelling. The doctor put him on a strong Furosemide push, but didn’t get the normal results. Things were odd. Were his organs shutting down?
  Finally, we sent him to town. We wanted to know what was going on in his body. The doctor prescribed a whole bunch of tests.  But before long, Alexis got on a motorcycle and came back home. Then Alexis’ family came back to us.

    “Alexis is not good. He is worse.”
     He spent another night in our clinic. During that night we had dreams. Disturbing dreams. A sense of restlessness was in the air. Whitney and I went down and spent about an hour trying to make Alexis comfortable, during the tiny hours of the morning. We tried  to find something that would let him and all the others in the hospital get some sleep. We gave him a shot.
    But there was no peace for Alexis. He didn’t want to make that decision for God, it seemed. Nobody else could choose for him.  And there was nothing else that our small hospital could do for his body. His family wouldn’t agree to sending him out to a bigger hospital. Our only option was to take him home and hope that his family would change their minds. We prayerfully drove him home, and laid our hands on him for one final prayer before we walked out.
 

                     

     The next day we sent some people to pray with Alexis again. They told us that three demons were on him. We were hoping that Alexis still had time to think clearly enough to choose God and life..

                                  
     So we reallt don’t know if Alexis made that decision for God or not. We were sobered by the fact that serving Satan is a disappointing journey. Was his body so weakened by the demons, that his chances of choice were over?
      We thank God for His protection over us during this time, and also for sending wonderful men of God, like Fre Nores, Fre Dolph, and Fre Direk,  our “Haitian fathers” to shepherd us through every step of the medical decisions and pain of Alexis’ passing.
     We find hope again in the fact that “Greater is He that is in you, than He that is in the world!”
      -Mis Woda for the team

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