Many medical students crowded round him, one group came after the next and there seemed to be no end to his eager stream of visitors. Uncle Ravin* suffered from congenital chronic lung disease and every acquisitive medical student keen to listen to that distinct crackle of his tired lungs stood in line to do so. Like zealots, we all crowded round.
"It's all right, you know," said Uncle Ravin*. "I'm quite all right, I like having people to speak to."
His white, wiry beard grew like a pruned bush around his chin, in stark contrast to his ebony skin. Bald, with a shining head like a chocolate egg, I remember thinking he looked quite the part of an Indian guru. I sat down. I wanted to know his Story, for he was willing to share it.
"I know what I have," he told me, before he took out an entire stash of papers. Printed from various websites and photocopied from various books, he had done substantial research on his own illness. "Here. See, I know all about Pulmonary Fibrosis."
I flipped through his precious library of information, impressed. Then I leafed upon a page, and then more, on depression- How do you know if you're Depressed? 10 ways to alleviate depression. How to be Happy.
"Uncle Ravin," I said gently. "What is this doing here?"
I remembered him telling me how difficult it was to cope alone. "Then why do you live alone?" I asked tenderly, stupidly almost. He had been smiling and telling me chirpily about all he knew about Pulmonary Fibrosis when all of a sudden, at the precise cue of my words, he choked, blinked and wept like a child, hunched over and sobbing incredibly heavily. "I didn't get married because I was too busy taking care of my younger siblings- they really needed me then, you know. And then, I just got older and now... "
How he wept.
"When I'm sad, I like to read- sometimes I read the Bible, and going to church helps. But it's really hard, you know, " he said.
I've written a little about this in a previous post before: Lectures began mighty early the next day and we had a packed schedule, so I woke up before the sun, wanting to pass to Uncle Ravin a book an uncle had given to me- Finding God in Unexpected Places by Philip Yancey. It was too early, the sun was still yawning awake, and Uncle Ravin was still fast asleep in that grey high-dependency ward. Quietly, I sat by him, watching him sleep, as his frightfully fast breathing rate echoed in the cold, cold room. My lectures were starting soon, but I couldn't bear to wake him. Even asleep, he was breathing like a hamster, heavily, deeply, frantically, as if he had been sprinting, and I shuddered to think of the end of that heaving sound.
Thankfully, breakfast came, and he awoke. All through his meal, his breathing never relaxed.
"The omelette, good?"
He nodded. "For you, Uncle Ravin," I said.
And as I placed the book in his arms, I was ashamed at how I flinched a little- how I dreaded having to give away a gift. It was an old book, well read by my most respected uncle, and I fingered it nostalgically. Almost pathetically, I left my address with him so he could mail it back to me.
Let it go, I felt God say. Nothing you have is truly yours. Even YOU are mine. How I hate to give away gifts. But it was the only book I felt he really needed. He received it gratefully.
Two months later, I opened a brown envelope sent to me by the same uncle and cried when I saw that exact same book inside. Could you believe- that my uncle had forgotten he had sent me that book previously, which he had owned for many years? The previous one had yellow pages. This time, he sent me a brand new one.
Tears streamed down my face as I learnt the lesson of letting go, of giving selflessly, of trusting in God's provision. I held that brown envelope in my hands, as tears burned down my cheeks.
Give, and you will never be short. There were a million other books my uncle could have sent me- why this, again? But God wanted to grip me by the shoulders to teach me:
Give, and you will be given. Do you trust Me to provide for all your needs?
I met Uncle Ravin a good four months ago. Today, four months later, I received in my mailbox:
Dear Waijia,
I'm RAVIN, a lung patient you visited and comforted at Ward 45 last year.
I pray you got off to a good start in this New Year and are basking in the sunshiny grace of GOD'S love. I want to thank you very very much for your prayers in the time of a crisis in my health as I felt devastated over my sudden deteriorating health.. Thank you so much for your encouragement and sisterly advice as to how to cope with my dispair and anguish at the sudden turn of events.
I would like to send back your precious book you loaned me. You can email me your address so I can post your book back to you by registered post. Thank you for telling about the book of Psalms in the bible- I find great comfort in reading them, finding the right words or phrases in sending my pleas to Our Heavenly Father to whom our bodies justly belong. I trust He will make my burden light.
I have an apointment with Specialist doctor Dr. X at X Specialist Clinic at X p.m on Xth Jan and also at the 'Y' Specialist Clinic on the same day at Y p.m.
Thank You so much Waijia for your care and concern. Please continue to pray for me as I pray with the CROSS on my back for your great success too to become a medical doctor ; then you too can join the international missionary team - doctors without borders and bring comfort to the very poor and oppressed peoples in this very troubled world.
You take care dear and till by God's grace we meet again,
May GOD bless you and your family and keep you in his tender care every day and grant you all your secret wishes, goals and aspirations for the NEW YEAR of the OX. Bye dear. Hugs.
Thank you for the greatest new year gift I could ever ask for, Uncle Ravin. I'm so sorry I even had the audacity to ask you to mail me back my book. Why did it surprise me to find the exact same book in my lap 2 months later- oh, how piercing God's lessons can be.
The book is yours, Uncle Ravin. Yes, indeed God knows the lessons He has to teach me, that I may trust in Him to give without worry, so as to "bring comfort to the very poor and oppressed peoples in this very troubled world", as you wrote. Thank you.
Happy New Year, Uncle Ravin.
" Give, and it will be given to you.
A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap.
For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you."
-Luke 6:38
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