Listen Closely, Hear My Heart

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  Lines of people standing in the hot sun for hours just waiting to see a doctor.  Mothers with malnourished babies.  Young girls with swollen pregnant bellies—girls much too young to be bearing children.  Old men bent over unable to look anyone straight in the eye.  Aged women with tumors or oozing sores that had festered for years.  Babies obviously feverish with malaria.  Little children with faces smeared from runny noses.  Hungry.  Unfed.  Uncared for.  Society’s outcasts.  Hundreds waiting to see a doctor for the first time in their lives. 

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  The dilapidated shack became the clinic where five doctors readied themselves to see patients.  No examination table.  No instruments but stethoscopes, blood pressure cuffs, and tongue depressors.  No bright lights.  No sterile surroundings.  No soft music.  No chairs in a waiting room.  No nurses to weigh the patients or take their vitals.

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  The missionary team members held the children, played with them to try to calm their fears.  They embraced the mothers and old women to show God’s love.  More often than not, the message of the Gospel was communicated without a word—it was easily seen in the essence of the character of God…love knew no bounds.  The people walked away knowing they had been embraced by the love of God.  Mission accomplished.

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  Everyone was given anti-malarial medicine.  Many were given antibiotics and sent away with a small amount with instructions to take until they were gone.  Many were given vitamins; some were given a pain reliever.  A few were transported to a hospital with a statement from the doctor that they were to receive treatment even though they had no money.

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  Early morning until the sun went down the line never seemed to shrink.  Still they came until there was no medicine left and the doctors had no means to treat the sick or dying.  The doors were closed.  The Free Medical Clinic sponsored by Heart of God International Ministries was done … at least in that village.  Tomorrow would be another day, another village, another crowd of people who were desperate for help.  Tomorrow the doctors would rise early with a fresh supply of medicines to another remote village.  Upon their arrival they would find a crowd bigger than the day before.  Another exhausting day awaited them.  But they volunteered their services, made the commitment, and would not go back on their word.

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  Three free clinics were held within the week.  Thousands of dollars of medicine was provided, untold man hours were donated, and lives were literally snatched from the grave.  Yet, it seemed like hardly a drop in the bucket relative to the unbelievable need. We walked away knowing we had fulfilled our mission, but knew so much more could be done.  Our funds were depleted.  But, what could we have accomplished with more?  Not only more money, but more people and more prayer support.  So much more could be done!  The overwhelming needs burn deep within my heart…not just for Kenya, but for Uganda and India and everywhere we have a ministry influence and places where we long to go but are unable.   

Listen closely, heart my heart.  We want to be a channel through which God provides for the basic needs of people … the need for a relationship with Him, the need for food and clean water, and the need for medical help.

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  Nurses outside the shack set up triage, prescreening each one to identify the critically ill from those who just needed a gentle touch.  Gently. Compassionately.  Carefully tending to the most ill.  Mercifully ministering to those who simply wanted—needed—a compassionate touch.

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  One by one the patients entered the make-shift examination room and were pointed to the available doctor.  Seated on a wooden bench in front of him, they began to explain their ailments.  The doctors gently and compassionately listened as they looked in their eyes, in their mouth, felt their neck, then listened to their heart. Each doctor took the time to speak to his patient, calm their fears, wipe their tears, then write a prescription.

Listen closely, hear my heart
I’ve seen it with my eyes
Kenya’s people, old and young
All logic it defies

Finding words is difficult
With tears I share their plight
Hopeless, poor, and destitute
Lord, help me while I write

Starving children, dying kids
With parents weak and lame
Graves encircle villages
Yet no one takes the blame

We found doctors who agreed
To volunteer their skills
Charging us for just the cost
Of medicines and pills

Dates were set and advertised
By word of mouth to all
People came from all around
By bus, on foot—some crawled

More than few had oozing sores
Some food could not digest
Little babies listlessly
Lay on their mother’s breast

Children’s swollen bellies and
Their thin limbs, oh so frail
Left alone, no one to care
No strength to even wail

One by one in single file
The nurses checked them all
“Fevers here! This tent, the lame!
With running sores, the hall!”

“Moms with children line up here
And those with child go there!”
Workers holding back their tears
Provided loving care

Tirelessly physicians sat
In rooms lined up with chairs
One by one with skillful hands
Examined each with care

Soothing children’s fearful hearts
And drying mother’s tears
Wrapping wounds with bandages
And checking babies’ ears

Doctors, nurses, volunteers
Along with fervent prayer
Touched the lives of all who came
They more than did their share

Still remains a task undone
To show Christ’s love unbound
Sadness grips the Kenyans’ hearts
While hopelessness resounds

Sickness and disease wide spread
Demand from us response
Instead too many who can help
React with nonchalance

Listen closely, hear my heart
The work’s not just for few
If you ask you’ll find that there
Is something you can do

Stop right now and pray for them…
“Oh Lord, I make this plea
Doctors, nurses, medicines
Are needed desperately”

“Give physicians courage, Lord
To show their servant’s heart
Reaching out to heal the sick
Through them Your love impart”

“And through me a difference make
Please show me Your desire
Money, time, or prayer, dear Lord,
There’ll be no honor higher”

Listen to the heart of God
And heed the Spirit’s plea
Kenya needs to hear you say
“I’m willing, Lord, use me!”

Not only Kenya needs to hear us say we’re willing, but the entire world.  How willing are we?  Are we willing to forego dinner at the local steakhouse in order to feed a family of four in India for an entire month?  Actually, one meal at a reasonable restaurant would pay for nearly three months!  But are we willing?

How willing are we to pray for missionaries and mission organizations who depend on the Body of Christ to be listening intently to the voice of God and heed His prompting to give even when the economy is slow? How willing are we to pray on a regular basis for missionaries who are in the throes of political unrest as religious zealots tear down churches, rape and maim women and children, burn Bibles, torture pastors … how much does that really affect us?  Does it affect us enough to do something about it?

Listen closely, hear my heart … hear the heart of God.  The greatest thing we can do is offer a sacrifice on behalf of those who lay their entire lives on the line, put their families at risk just to see one more soul saved. 

Let’s be willing to say, “I’m willing, Lord, use me!” and then actually do something about it.  Let's not give the Lord lipservice to ease your own conscience … follow through and pray—go—give.

“I’m willing, Lord, use me!”

© 2008 Jan Ross
All Rights Reserved

Comments

[Susan]

Indeed it is a brutal country in terms of poor people. My heart cringed when I read that they were sent to the hospital even though they have no money. As most Kenyans now who live there, going to the hospital in many cases is just as bad as going without anything, even death. Yes, it depends on the location, Nairboi has one of the biggest research hospitals in the region and is awesome, but the rural areas are poorly staffed, and little to no necessary medicines.

When I lived there, it was interesting that I became sex education classes with pastors, many of whom had no idea how their wife got pregnant; the process. They had no real knowledge about how the body works, nutrition or anything. Yet many of those I spoke with were educated in seminary and trades.

There is such a need for teaching just common first aid in many rural areas. Thanks to you and the team for the tender mercies and love to these, my second country.

[Wanda]

I hate being so aware of such suffering!!! I feel so utterly helpless to help! I do believe in prayer - yet I also know that His ways aren't our ways. Part of me wants to pray for early death for these precious people - rather than temporary help, simply because there is not enough help. I feel so guilty in praying for my own supposed needs - yet being aware of these who suffer so, teaches me also to be humbly thankful for running water inside my home, heat, air conditioning, a solid house, food, my ailing health that is perfect health when compared, my Bible that I can so freely read and the freedom to so casually leave in sight, my friends and family, no war on our land. I feel so guilty to ask for anything more! Yet, I know that His ways aren't our ways and we are to go to Him, as our loving Father with ALL our needs.

God, bless the missionaries, doctors, nurses, volunteers! Bless the poor and suffering. Bless those at "home" here in America, who struggle with hunger, cold nights huddled in a doorway or in the sewers, those adicted to drugs, those who are abused and lonely. God, please Bless Us All! We need you so!!!