"I'll take you to some people who need hope"

“I’ll take you to people who need hope”

Kennedy Hospital is a large hospital in Liberia. It was built in the early 60’s, so it is almost 50 years old and is showing its age. By our standards it is dirty and run down. It smells. Catheter tubes run into dishes on the floor. Sheets don’t get changed every day. Bedpans lay full next to beds. There is no air conditioning and the patients suffer in the heat. Much of the routine care is left to the family.

Yet it is all they have, and many cannot afford even this. The doctors and nurses work hard and do the best they can. But death is everywhere and uneventful. Pain is constant, even with many of the children. Their cries echo through the halls and pound upon your heart.

It is a place of heaviness. It is a place of worry and sorrow. And it is a place of healing and joy. As with the other hospitals we visited, it wears on you. Praying with mothers whose child lays sick, with men whose limbs are gone, or women who have just given birth drains you. Yet at the same time it brings a sense of satisfaction that you have brought some light and hope to a desperate people.

We came to Kennedy Hospital with Elder Ross, a Liberian who teaches at the orphanage. As we came to one of the wings of the complex, we were met by a well-dressed woman who wanted to know what we were doing. She was the assistant administrator for this entire wing. Elder Ross explained that we had come to pray for the sick.

The skepticism was evident on her face. At first, I thought she would turn us away. Then she looked right at me and said “I’ll take you to some people that need hope”. She turned and began to walk into the building as we followed.

We were led to an area that was home to 40 or so women, some girls as young as twelve. These women had been raped. Some by multiple men. They had been torn up inside, requiring surgery and care. Many were forced to sit on buckets because of the damage to their bodies. The assistant administrator told us that their families had abandoned and rejected them because they had been raped.

So for an extended time, this was their home, and each other was their family. And they had no hope. You could see it in their eyes. Their bodies were broken, they been brutally used for pleasure, their families condemned them, and they had no home, no future. Before us was the least among us.

And they were gathered together staring at us, looking at me as I stepped forward to speak with them. How do you prepare for such a moment? What words can give them even a bit of comfort? Am I capable of even praying for these poor young women? The overwhelming sense of utter helplessness overcomes you. All you can do is cry out to God for them.

I told them we loved them. I told them God loved them. I told them that God gathers his lambs in His arms and carries them close to his heart. And I told them that God had loved them so much he sent His Son for them and if they would ask Jesus, he would come into their hearts and never leave them. I told them that Jesus was preparing a place for them and that they would one day sit on the throne with Jesus. I told them there was hope and love and peace and comfort. I asked God to heal their broken bodies and their broken hearts.

Thank you God for being a God of love, mercy, and hope. Thank you Jesus for loving us enough to die for us. Thank you Holy Spirit for being our comforter and intercessor, for my words could not begin to express my heart. Please Holy Spirit, surround these dear young girls with your love and peace. Let them know they are not alone. Let them know they are loved. Let them know they have hope. They desperately need it.

We so often lead such easy lives we don’t pray desperate prayers. We don’t simply cry out to God with the overwhelming sense that we can do nothing, knowing only He can. But what a comfort and joy to realize anew that we serve a God who can heal any broken body and heal any broken heart.

Maybe God is asking you to go to Liberia, to Monrovia, to Kennedy Hospital, to this wing to simply give these dear young women a loving hug. I don’t believe I will ever forget those words “I’ll take you to some people who need hope”. Will you help bring them hope?

Kris