My son keeps telling me that I should expect to meet Jesus in Haiti. I have met him. In this case, His name was Lexie, but among ourselves, we called him “Legion”.
An outcast of Haitian society, this homeless old man suffering from schizophrenia somehow found his way to our clinic to be treated for cholera. He was more at home lying on the hard ground than on a cot. It was hard to tell how long his nails had gone untrimmed. But they were long enough and thick enough to dig a hole a few feet in diameter and several inches deep.
Other patients were frightened by his behavior and we found it very challenging to care for him. But our hearts embraced him as over the days we found creative ways to meet some of his basic needs. It soon became apparent that while his cholera was improving, he was soon going to die.
We cut his nails with wire cutters. During one of his lucid moments, chaplains with BGEA, prayed with him to receive Christ. We gave him a secluded spot under a tarp to get out of the elements. We bathed him and dressed him as tenderly as if he was a family member and he allowed us to move him to a bed. Then one night his breathing changed into the pattern that warns of impending death.
Joanie sat with him for hours as his breathing became more labored. She couldn’t bear for him to die alone. I had the privilege of spelling her from time to time to care for her other patients.
Then we began to wonder, why was he still lingering? There was no earthly reason he was still alive. Then it occurred to me; God was not finished with him yet. Reminded that hearing is the last sense to go and knowing the language, I was moved to sing one of the only Kreyol songs I know, Tout bagay va bien, Lakay Papa mwen. Everything’s alright in my Father’s house. I began to pray for him in Kreyol that he would rest in his Father’s house, in His arms. I prayed that he would realize that he was a precious child of God and that his heavenly Father was just waiting to look at him face to face and say, “I love you my precious child”.
Then I saw it. A single tear gathered in the corner of his eye. I wiped it and another formed. Moved to tears myself, I tenderly spoke and stroked his face, telling him it was ok to go to his heavenly home. He died several hours later, but not alone.
My son is right; we met Jesus face to face as we cared for this man.
'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.' Matthew 25:40
