Be Not Forgotten

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I barely started the 4 hours I committed last night to help the short night crew, when the Charge Nurse handed a medical chart and requested if I could see a pregnant female prisoner. Already on her way from her unit. Complaining of increasing contractions and back pain. She was on her later term of pregnancy. 39 ½ weeks to be exact. Anticipating an eminent arrival of a newborn baby, I prepared the Labor and Delivery Kit, a sterilized package that housed the needed things in case she delivered in the jail. 

We called for an ambulance. I saw her grimaced as I asked her to try to walk and be transferred to the exam table instead of sitting on the waiting area. So the IV and oxygen could be started. We heard her trying to push.

“Oh no! Don’t push! Try to concentrate on your breathing,” I commanded, as I touched her upper back and reassured her.

“Trying to relax is the best you can do. I know it’s not easy. But you are not fully dilated yet. We’re just waiting for the ambulance so you can get the better care at the hospital.”

“Thank you,” she uttered. As the wave of the painful contractions seemed to have come and gone.

It was her first baby. A baby boy she told me. A baby who was sentenced along with her while inside her womb. After birth, the baby would go to her mother to care for him. As she had to be returned to the prison after and served the rest of her sentence…Few months…To maybe a year. It wasn’t only her. Many women, young as she was, entered the prison. Pregnant…Some wanted the babies. Some opted for abortion… Some trapped with the habits of abusing illegal substances. 

“I’m glad you never used street drugs and seldom drank alcohol,” I whispered to her right ear, her back facing me as I continued to coach her with her breathing.

“I hope you’ll get a chance to be out of here to be with your first baby…He is precious,” I added.

She smiled. Alternating with some grimaces. As two paramedics walked in, pushing the guerney and the heavy emergency bag. I started cleaning up the exam room as soon as she left. Thinking how awful it was. That she wasn’t alone in her suffering. But the baby had to face that, too… All I could do was pray. For her and the precious gift God had given her. For her to be able to go home…And be able to make her remember how it would be like…To be a loving mother to her first child…And make that child… BE NOT FORGOTTEN like the other children…Born by their incarcerated mothers… 

I prayed…for her to be a loving mother like how God was and always is…to His children…

  

He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young. – Isaiah 40:11 (NIV)

The Dental Work

I could only answer at the back of my mind. As I calmly tried to be still when I heard our family dentist turned the drill on after he made sure half of my lip was already numb.

“Raise your left hand if you have any problem then I will stop it,” he explained.

“Are you okay so far?”

All I could do was answer with my nodding. Of course I was okay. Pain-free at that moment for the removal of my old filling on one of my teeth in the back. 

But not my pocket…So I thought…

He wanted to avoid having me go through a root canal and as a preventative treatment, he had me opt for a crown.

“You are so patient,” he kept talking as he adeptly worked on removing the decayed part of my tooth.

“I wish all of my patients are like you,” he added.

“I am patient?” I echoed in my mind…

“I had to be…”

Because I didn’t want to make a false move and had him poke something he wasn’t supposed to and had me bleeding somewhere…

But I reassured him. During my initial visit with him when my due evaluation came up. That I was never afraid of the dentists…

(More of expenses maybe)…

“Okay…See you in 2 weeks,” he uttered as he threw away the gloves he wore and washed his hands.

Trying to spend a minute with me before he would start again with another patient next door. Already prepped with her bib as the Dental Assistant was keeping her company.

I knew the treatment was well worth it. It would save me more expenses and that my tooth, best of all would have a longer life. With the arrival of that crown. The decayed tooth would be like new.

Oh how so like the Lord’s salvation. Not all men who go under trials are the ones blessed. But those who learn to increase their patience and faith as they stay in obedience to God. Those who know how to avoid the decays of sins knowing how they bring death to their spirits, by God’s grace. And so for them, one day, they will also earn that crown…The treasured crown…Of life… 

I will always trust that Jesus is there for me…going through trials with me. He is faithful. And true…My Lord…My Savior…

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.- James 1:12 (NIV)

Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.- 1 Corinthians 9:25 (NIV)

~ (emphasis was mine)...

The Suspect

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; ²⁶ and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

- John 11:25-26 (NIV)

“This ‘gal’ came behind me and just started punching me…”

“So I hit her back!” explained this young, female inmate. Her heart racing like a horse as I cleansed a small cut on one of her fingers of her right hand. The right hand swelling up. And red by the knuckles. One could tell. Coming from the many punches she threw right back at the prisoner who she said attacked her.

I kept listening to her. Paying attention to every other signs and symptoms of injuries as medical staff was aware…After the treatment, the deputy from that involved unit would write an incident report where the treating nurse had to sign and write down what the injuries were and the treatment plan done.

“Just keep this ice pack on your hand,” I uttered as I started wrapping her wrist with an elastic bandage.

“This will immobilize your hand temporarily so the pain and swelling can also go down,” I explained.

She let out a deep sigh. She started complaining again about the other inmate and the louder she described each event when she saw our Infirmary Deputy approached both of us. She was upset about her alleged ‘attacker’. 

I looked at the deputy and he glanced back at me as if our eyes were talking. We both must sense that the wounded prisoner I was treating actually was the attacker. She was the suspect. 

Working in the prison for many years now, I had learned to try to listen to both sides of a story as much as I could. Because the story always sounded so good and true. Not until I would hear the other part…

The injury report was delivered to be signed by me…True enough…That inmate I suspected of starting the fight was the attacker. 

How many suspected Jesus as a “liar” and “not the Son of God?” To the point that the same people who were praising Him before, wanted Him to die on the cross days after. How quickly one’s belief or story changes! Except the truth is…

Jesus came to die on the cross to save humanity. It was God’s love Who put His own Son to that wooden cross, not men’s wishes, to save humanity from sin’s death…

The Lost Files

“It is impossible to get exhausted in work for God. We get exhausted because we try to do God’s work in our own way.” – Oswald Chambers

I could feel my son’s frustrations last night when he found out that the illustrations he had been working on to produce the image he wanted to enter in the County’s Art Show was lost. However, the image remained. Not the steps he took as he painstakingly drew each line using mathematical stuff in the computer. He was upset. And it was understandable. Nothing hurt my husband and I more than to see him so upset because the many months it took for him to work on that project was lost…Just because of that program from the computer that didn’t convert it to become that file that he wanted. 

“Take a deep breath…”

“Try to cool off please. Just be thankful that your image was saved and that you could still submit that,” I added but with a growing tear ripping across my heart as a mother. 

He had been quiet. He would never talk in any offensive language. It was just his eyebrows were showing anger. That was how I could tell. And deep sighs.

I fell asleep as he continued to work on his homework. As I laid down and fell asleep…whispering prayers for him…

This morning as I ate breakfast, I brought it up again. Not wanting to remind him of the pain and frustration but it was necessary. I wanted him to know…Nothing truly was lost. Even from that mishap, he gained so much knowledge and he could use that as a learning tool instead.

“You have the choice to continue to be upset about what that program did to your months of work…But you also have a choice to pray about it and move on. Be thankful to the Lord that the image was not lost which was the important thing you needed for the art show.”

Like a broken record that he must have heard thousands of times, I repeated, “I want to remind you…Whether you win or not, you are a winner already because you are able to use that talent that God has gifted you with. Never allow the spiritual enemy to steal the joy in your heart. Because as believers, we will also face trials. But we must hold on to what is true.”

“I’m not upset anymore, Mom,” he reassured me, as he savored the buttered Texas toast I paired with the candied bacon. He started laughing as he recalled his Art teacher joking around with him, teasing him that one of these days, his computer would start smoking because of the difficult techniques he was doing in that project. “Boy! Was he right!” I thought… We laughed together. His heart was at peace as he spoke about retrieving what was lost by going back and doing every step he took even if it would sound like a lot of work so he could get the lost illustrations back. 

As the smoke of frustrations eases up, one truth emerged:

That we must continue to labor for Christ, no matter what difficulty we face. Because in doing so, that is how we retrieve what is lost… We don’t allow our lights to be put out so the other lost ones could be found…We don’t labor for us. We labor for Christ. We shine for Christ!

¹⁶ Rejoice always, ¹⁷ pray continually, ¹⁸ give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
¹⁹ Do not quench the Spirit. ²⁰ Do not treat prophecies with contempt ²¹ but test them all; hold on to what is good, ²² reject every kind of evil. - 1 Thessalonians 5:16-22 (NIV)