Katatura Hospital

One of the non kid-related things we did in Namibia was our visit Katutura hospital. We wanted to pray for people there; Namibia tends to be pretty open about that sort of thing (at least compared to America), and, as expected, the employees at the front desk said no problem, just check with the nurses station on whichever floor we go to. We walked around to the elevator lobby and started right away – there was a guy on crutches standing there, waiting for the elevator, and we asked if we could pray for him. After we did, another guy came up, and we followed him into the elevator to continue talking/praying.

He got out on the 4^th floor, so that’s where we went. (I think someone in our group said that they wanted to go to the 4^th floor anyway, but I’m not 100% sure about that.) We hung out in the elevator lobby up there for a while longer, as people kept walking by and we kept asking to pray for them. One guy came up to us and asked for prayer – he wasn’t injured, but his son was (I think he had a burn on his face), and he also asked for prayer to find a job, find housing, and other needs. It’s one thing to pray for someone when we seek them out and ask them, but I’m always especially touched when they come to me (or the group I’m in) to ask us. It’s an honor, and it encourages me to see such faith in prayer’s power.

We split up into two groups of three (Paul was with us, but Jessica wasn’t feeling well so she stayed behind) and went down different sides of the hall. It turns out we were on the floor that mostly dealt with broken bones and amputations. There were a lot of broken legs, and several people with missing limbs. One guy had an infection that took most of his left arm and his entire left leg; he turned off the radio he was listening to so he could talk to us. Many people had been injured crossing streets, hit by a careless taxi or other vehicle. One kid had tried to huff some kind of chemical; he was probably 12 years old or so. Paul talked to him and explained why huffing things was a bad idea and invited him to the youth group at All Nations.

We prayed for every single person we saw (except for a couple who were sleeping.) We even prayed for the nurses – one of them was watching us make our way around the room, praying as we got to each bed, and called us over to ask why “we” (people who regularly come pray at the hospital) never pray for the nurses, too. I think we had planned to already (I hadn’t thought much about it, but I think Paul had), but we stopped right there and prayed over her. Lauren, a nurse herself, talked to her about dealing with stress and frustration in the job, and how to give those burdens to the Lord, and then prayed with her again. She seemed to really appreciate it!

It was a great experience. I felt a little out of my element – going up to random people and asking if they want prayer isn’t all that comfortable for me as an introvert, and I’m sort of uncomfortable around hospitals anyway. But being with the group helped, and I didn’t feel any stress or worry; everyone was happy for us to pray for them, and it was incredible to see their optimism and their faith that being prayed for was worth it.