Mother of Nations

FIELD UPDATE

We have a Sarah (Hebrew means Mother of Nations). She is the Hope Medical Clinic’s oldest patient, being 106. Her life is somewhat parallel to that of the biblical Sarah, inasmuch as her years on this earth have been somewhat barren, with pain written across her story.

She is but one of the many patients we visit weekly or more in the camp. As our team goes in every weather condition, the relentless rain and hail of this past month, and the scorching heat that will soon be upon us, my thoughts turn to Isaiah 58: “Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the wanderer with shelter, and when you see the naked, to clothe them? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear, your righteousness will go before you and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.”

This has been our standard, our practice for over 12 years now, and I believe is one of the main reasons for our “staying power”.

Our Sarah is old and sick. Many have passed her by, but our team goes out of their way to make the last period of her life as comfortable as possible. Sarah carries a century of memories, a century of stories, but it’s only one memory that weighs on her ageing heart, one that the passing of time has not softened: the one single day that changed her life and broke her heart.

Prior to August 3rd, 2014, she lived a simple, peaceful life in Sinjar. Her house was basic but greatly loved; she was married, and her daughter married and living with them. She never imagined that her peaceful, seemingly safe and calm life would turn into a nightmare, one from which she would never awaken.

On that tragic morning, ISIS stormed Sinjar, ushering in a campaign of destruction, loss and immense suffering. With no other option, Sarah and her husband decided to flee on foot (remember she is 92), leaving their ancestral village for Mount Sinjar, hoping, as did many, that the mountain would afford them some protection. Their old age with the summer heat made the journey harder than they had anticipated; they pressed on until their way was blocked by the people waving the black flag.

They were both captured; they received no mercy, not even a sip of water. Her husband was murdered in front of her eyes; she was incarcerated in a Tel Afar prison where she endured days of abuse and torture. She had no time to grieve the loss of her husband; she had to stay strong and resilient and survive. These days of captivity she accepted as a test of the strength of her human spirit.

After a while the terrorists decided to release some of the old people and those with disabilities. This was neither an act of mercy nor righteousness; they did not want to be bogged down with people for whom they had no use, or had no financial value. Sarah was physically freed, exhausted, shocked, but holding onto life.

She was taken to Shariya camp and given a tent. The barrenness of the camp was hard, the mixture of sounds of silence and the screams of mourning. Her divorced daughter returned to live with her. Despite all hardship and loss, Sarah was grateful to be alive.

She became a regular patient at the Hope Clinic where she received not only medical care, but the listening ear, love and care that she so needed. As we got to know her we realised that it was vital for her mental and physical wellbeing to replace her tent with a block house, so as soon as the opportunity arose Springs of Hope built for her as an act of love to give her some sense of restoration in her latter years.

Sarah recently had a fall that has left her bedridden. A neighbour gave her an old TV for company. We visit her regularly, checking her vital signs, monitoring her health and giving whatever comfort, care and support that we can.

She describes her latter years as barren whilst admitting the resilience that she grasps hold of every day. She began again, and it’s different, but she is still here, living, enduring and telling her story so that neither she nor her story will be forgotten.

Our prayer for her as we visit is that, like the biblical Sarah, she too will hear news that will cause her to laugh as she experiences the wonders of God in her old age. That joy will be her portion which will bring strength to her bones. That she will be gathered to her fathers in the fullness of her old age.