"All I want is Jesus," he told us that night we came to visit him. Although a complete stranger, my heart went out to him as if he were my own flesh and blood. His limp body lay on the cot as Dana and I drained his wounds and bandaged his lifeless leg. Still we knew that without medical attention at a hospital, he did not have long to live. The diabetes and infection had taken over his entire body and he was unable to fight back. We did what we could, praying that God would have mercy on him. His family stood back in the shadows, unwilling to touch him or offer comfort. I pleaded with God to spare his life.
The next morning I awoke to news that he had slipped into a diabetic coma. The family had then moved him to a small shed out back to die. In Indian culture it is considered back luck for someone to die in a home and would require them to vacate the home for six months if that were to happen. My heart sunk deep inside my chest as I heard the news. I don't recall a time in my life that I've prayed so fervently for God to move.
When we arrived that morning, I could feel death hovering at the doorstep. Flies swarmed his body as he struggled for each breath. No one would touch him. It seemed as if he would breathe his last breath that very hour. Upon discussing moving him to a hospital despite the family's objections we soon learned that he was an AIDS patient. We had been treating his wounds for days as they kept it a secret from us. With the disease attacking his immune system there was little hope of recovery. They told us that he had been rejected by three hospitals because he is an AIDS patient and feared that we wouldn't touch him if we knew.
I held his hand firmly as I prayed, offering what little comfort I knew how. Of all the times I've prayed for God to do the impossible, I've never believed that he could more than now. This man is dying of a disease with no cure, doesn't have proper medical care, has been shunned by his family, is a diabetic, has infection throughout his body, is in a coma, and has been left to die. Could it get any more impossible than that?
I cried out to my God because I know he is a God of the impossible. He is a God who has given us the power and authority to heal the sick, raise the dead to life, and to cast out demons. As we have been studying in the Gospels, Jesus shows us time after time how it is through our faith that we are healed. Even a touch of his cloak would bring healing..
I left him that day filled with confidence in the one I call Lord. We soon found out that he had made it through the night and was responding. I was elated. We quickly returned to bathe him, bandage his wounds, and change his bedding. A couple days later we returned again to find him eating and talking and his wounds healing well. Only God knows the joy that overflowed in my heart.
As we cared for him and talked to him he asked,
"Who are these gods that have been sent to take care of me and touch me? No one will come near me, but you have." I smiled as he praised Jesus with his own lips.
After praying once again, I left with these words written on my heart...
"All I want is Jesus."
Please lift up our brother in Christ as he fights for his life. Pray that through life or death God would be glorified in him.
