Be still and know

This is my honest account of what happened. It is sad:

Every Friday evening, the Millers invite all the staff over for dinner before vespers. It's a really nice time for all of us to get together and eat and talk and open the Sabbath. This past Friday night, Peggy asked me if I could stop at the girls' dorm because she got a frantic call from the girls' dean's phone, but all she could hear was screaming. She said that she was getting a migraine and would come as soon as she took care of herself. Pastor Tom called and said that the girls called him and told him to get Mrs. Peggy as well. The students freak out very easily. I have been instructed to run as fast as I could to see boys who have physically been perfectly fine but have refused to move or talk... In the past there was also a rule that the girls were not allowed to faint because fainting is so common here. If someone faints, it's usually because they were stressed or heard bad news or got in a fight. So I don't always take their urgency too seriously. Peggy and I started to get a bag of medical things together quickly for me to take, and three girls ran to the door. So I left with them and started running to the dorm. Then I remembered that they freak out very easily, so I walked for a little bit. Then I remembered being in Sandy's room that morning and commenting to her that it smelled like gas from the water heater, and that I had forgotten to say anything to Ron about fixing that, so I took off running again. I ran into the dean's apartment on the bottom floor and was directed to the bathroom. The first thing I was saw Jackline, one of my senior girls, standing in the bathtub propping up Sandy against her shins. As a teacher you're not supposed to have favorites, but my first thoughts were the impression that this was gravely serious and "Not Sandy... oh no... Not Sandy..." I ran over to Sandy, who was unresponsive, and felt for her pulse. If I did feel it, it was thready if palpable at all. I checked the window in case carbon monoxide leaked from the heater, and it was already open. I told Jackline we needed to get her out of the bathtub so I could start CPR. But Sandy was a little bigger, and there was no way I could get her out of the tub without her helping at all. Ron came in shortly after me, and we called for people to help pull her out of the bathtub. We got her on the floor, and I lifted her chin to open her airway... CPR was not like it was on the dummies in my training classes. I thought I was doing it wrong. But the air wouldn't go down.
It just wouldn't go down.
I'd breathe into her, and it would come right back up.
Oh it wouldn't go down no matter what we did. :(
I fear my details could disrespectfully cheapen this experience or lessen the gravity. Ron called for Gladys to call Peggy and to say that, "Ron says to come quickly," so that she knew it was an emergency. Peggy got there as soon as possible, and we were in crisis mode. Ron and Peggy took over CPR while I made phone calls. I called Abo Fady (who lives on campus and owns a Suzuki van) and told him to get to Ms. Janet's house to take us to the "mosteshfa DELWA'ATEE" (hospital NOW!). I called Jeff to get a door by the work shed so that we had something to lay her on so we could take her to the car. They were much faster than I had expected, and I was so thankful. Some of the girls had to help us put Sandy on the door. Other girls were screaming and crying. Gladys and Peggy kicked them out of the way. The door wouldn't fit in the back of the van--I was so upset--so we had to take her off the door. Poor little Sandy. We continued CPR in the car and rotated positions. I prayed so much. When I wasn't giving compressions or breaths, I sometimes made eye contact with people in cars we passed, and I motioned to them to pray.

We got to a hospital, and Ms. Janet (Sandy's aunt and the girls' dean) jumped out and asked if they had emergency medicine. If not, we would have kept driving to the city. They did, and a stretcher was at the back of the van soon. We got her on the stretcher, and I ran the stretcher up the ramp and into the hospital yelling, "Feyn?! Feyn?!" ("Where?!") and was directed to a room. The poor kid in the other bed in the room must have been freaked out by how frantic we were. The doctors and nurses rushed in. I kept giving Sandy breaths. They told me to back off so they could see her, but I refused because I had to finish giving her air. Poor little thing. The doctors got kind of a slow start, but they were much more competent than the last hospital I had heard about--and Peggy and I would not stop what we were doing until we were sure they were ready to jump in. I stepped back and let them do their thing. They tried their best to get her airway open and to suction her mouth. They actually had a defibrillator, which I was very surprised about. I was upset but composed until I saw Abo Fady standing at the bottom of the bed, and it reminded me that eleven months to the day before this he was standing at the bottom of his own daughter's hospital bed, where she died as well. Pain on so many ungodly levels. At times my business mode would shut off and I would feel, feel like a teacher and a friend. Tears streamed down my cheeks. The nurses were very good. I was pleasantly surprised. I saw two of them tear up and turn away from Sandy. It made me remember how most days at work were kind of the same, but there were some days that just... owned me. And for those girls, it must have been one of those--some looked no older than me. After some time we were told that there was nothing more that they could do. I prayed and I cried and wrestled with my faith. I watched Peggy as parts of the night pierced through her emergency-mode exterior.

It is customary to bury the dead within 24 hours of them dying. Sandy's parents were in Australia with her sister. We had to bring her body back to the school, and the ambulance offered to bring her back for free. When we drove on campus behind the ambulance, we heard the girls start to scream. I got out of the Suzuki, and the guy SMs were physically holding back some girls from running into the house. Some were yelling and crying and trying with everything they had to come in. The next couple hours were a mess. People sobbing and yelling. I heard, "Lay, ya Rab?!" (Why, God?) I held Sarah, who had found Sandy. Some people felt very faint, so I came to take their blood pressures and reassure them that they were okay. I came to see Waheed, who was in front of the boys' dorm. His dad died maybe a year and a half ago, and I think his thoughts were there. I listened to his heart, had him breath into a bag, and ran my fingers through his hair until he calmed down. The school was a mess.

We don't know what happened. We can only speculate. Maybe she slipped and hit her head and compromised her airway. Maybe she had a seizure. Maybe carbon monoxide poisoning--we had some gas issues in our own apartment earlier this year. I don't know.



I have been wrestling with a lot of ideas since then. I would not choose this. Ever. But the wrestling has been good for me. I thought that if I really had faith I would be angrier with God because I couldn't tell whether or not I was being apathetic, and apathy is much more dangerous than anger. So I was angry--sincerely and because I thought there was more to figure out. I have struggled with guilt and sadness. But through it all, through my questioning and anger and guilt and grief, all I could know is that God loves me. God loves us. God loved Sandy much more than any of us. And God hurts with those who hurt much more than any of us.

I'm memorizing Romans 8, and I can't get this off of my mind. Paul writes, "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope; because the creation itself also will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now. Not only that, but we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body." (8:18-23) The earth, the world, we, God Himself is just anxiously waiting to glorify us. The world cries out for our redemption. I think of this when riding through the dusty, trash-filled streets past mangy, hungry dogs. I think of this as I pass the pathetic crippled beggars selling packets of kleenex at the metro. I think of this when I remember that Sandy is gone and that she has left a hole in all of our lives. My heart breaks with God's.
Why?
Why?
Why?
I don't know.
But I am more than confident that God is strong and that He loves me. So I will be still and know that He is God even when I cannot see.