#90 Dust and Ashes

God,

I’m tired.

I’m discouraged.

I’m ticked off.

I don’t know how much more I can take.

I never viewed myself as the most morally sound missionary, but I trusted You to see me through. Is this Your challenge?

What am I supposed to do?

My head is spinning.

I need the world to slow down for a few hours. A full day, even.

Christophe got caught asking for bribes from patients again. Nothing new for him. He’s promised to straighten up and never do it again several times already.

Honore asked for a bribe from the same patient. When they wouldn’t fork it over, he made them wait all day to be seen. Finally they paid.

Giscar showed up drunk. Again.

So did Etienne.

And DeGaulle built himself a compound on hospital land without asking permission or paying rent. What’s more, he showed up enough at the hospital to get on payroll. And he doesn’t do anything but grow a garden at the hospital that he takes home to feed his family.

What am I supposed to do?

Can you not give me an honest, sober employee to help me out here?

Honore finally convinced some that it was just a tip and he never showed preference for it and never asked for it. He just accepted it. I still don’t buy it.

Christophe threw the whole lab under the bus and insisted that all four lab guys were in on it and pooling together the bribes they extorted from patients and then splitting it at the end of every day.

Really?

So we held our mighty hospital committee today.

Nobody wanted to fire anybody. I pointed out that the rulebook said we needed to fire him. Finally they relented.

So to support their colleague, the other lab guys went on strike. To publicly say that they support demanding bribes from patients to do the job they are already paid to do, they went on strike.

Really? I let them. I told them I’d rather fire them all than support thievery. They went back to work. Except the guy I fired.

So I told the committee, If you’re really serious about catching these people, and we all have admitted already that there’s a bunch of employees extorting from the patients, how about one of you just go around with me and ask patients and their families if they’ve been asked for money by anybody besides the cashier.

And they laughed at me, God. The committee you gave me to direct this hospital to a future of glorifying you. They laughed at the idea of catching the thieves. Why, God?

Are they stealing too, and they’re afraid?

Can You not give me one honest employee to trust and to work with?

Every employee tells me, I’m not stealing, but so-and-so is. The rumors are more than I can process. Everybody is implicated.

God, how does this glorify You? We’re here for You, right? So people come to the Adventist hospital from all over the country, just to find that we extort money? What does that say about our God?

Should I close the hospital? If You tell me that’s what I need to do, I’ll do it. I’d rather close a hospital than continue dirtying the name of Jesus. I’ll fire them all and just see a couple patients a day myself.

Is this stupid pride or righteous indignation? Am I rising above or am I stooping to their recalcitrance? Am I being culturally insensitive? Should I really allow the nurses at Your hospital to continue stealing from patients and the hospital in the name of cultural sensitivity?

Help me out here, God.

Last night I went to bed at midnight. The night before was 2am. The night before was midnight. I have hours and hours of administrative work every night, instead of playing with my children and spending quality time with my wife. Is this really what you called me to? I’m not an administrator. I’m not political. I’m not a fundraiser. Am I really the best You can do? Seriously, I’ll abide by the whole, ‘Here am I, send me’ thing, but couldn’t You find somebody better at this?

I’m trying to fence in the whole property, all 0.8 miles of it. I’m trying to stop the annual fights with neighbors over where they can grow their rice. I’m trying to stop the cows from roaming through. I’m trying to control foot traffic to/from church and school. I’m trying to keep people from building their private compounds and houses and goat pens on our property.

I’m trying to fence in an extra courtyard for a private ward, something to increase our capacity and increase our revenue. No, Your revenue.

I’m trying to build a new OR. One built to be efficient and sterile. One with a delivery suite. One with a lab attached. Something that can be air conditioned.

I’m trying to build a house for my in-laws, who are moving here to be our third doctor. And I’m trying to fence in their house.

I’m trying to start a nursing school. One that requires a year of theology training as a prerequisite to the course. One that filters out the money-seekers. One that teaches ethics from the very beginning. One that will produce honorable nurses who don’t steal and who work hard and who are kind and who glorify You.

I’m trying to start a radio station to spread Your Gospel.

I’m trying to build a hotel for people here for chronic problems or visitors who just need to stay a night or family of patients.

I’m trying to open health centers which will glorify You.

I’m trying to recruit a fourth physician, a construction expert, an accountant, an administrator... anybody honest!

I’m trying to build a new maternity ward.

I’m trying to build medicine wards and surgical wards.

I’m trying to build new toilets for sanitation.

I’m trying to manage current and future volunteers.

I’m trying to keep donors happy.

I’m trying, God. Help me out here. Give me a break. Send me some help. Real help. Not, please let me play surgeon in the OR help. I can’t take any more of that help.

I know the right answers. I know all about how I’m not supposed to be trying it on my own. I know all about how I’m supposed to leave it in Your hands. But I see them take that attitude here all the time. And it’s just an excuse for laziness. Is that really what You want from me? I know all about how it’s not my strength, but Yours. God, seriously, I’m not doing it to glorify myself. Seriously, try me. Test me. Take all the credit. Give me none. See if I complain.

We’re talking crisis point here, God. Give me something.

So what do we do now, God? I’d love some explicit instructions.

You are not a God created by human hands.
You are not a God dependent on any mortal man.
You are not a God in need of anything I can give.
By Your plan, that’s just the way it is.
You are God alone.
From before time began, You are on Your throne.
You are God alone.
And right now, in the good times and bad, You are on Your throne.
You are God alone.
Unchangeable, unshakable, unstoppable. That’s what You are.

I know that You’re up there on Your throne. I know that You see and understand from the East to the West, from the North to the South, from the Depths to the Heights, from Millennia past to the Present to the Future. I know that Your understanding is not limited to my finite three-dimensional reality. I know that Tchad in 2012 is but a speck of physical space in just a moment of quantifiable time. I know that You have reasons beyond my reasoning.

But these people are suffering. This is a country and a people forgotten by the world for so long. These are children of Yours that are so ripe for the harvest. All they need are some leaders to show them the way. God, send me kind, honest, hard-working men and women to lead this hospital to You.

I’m tired.

I’m discouraged.

I’m ticked off.

I don’t know how much more I can take.