Sharp pain stabbed Mei’s arm and radiated throughout her tense, twelve-year-old body. Her whimper, barely heard beyond the curtains drawn around her bed, elicited a comforting pat from her mother. Skiing the snowy slopes had been fun until this.
The emergency room nurse covered her with a warm blanket. The curtain slid on its track and the doctor entered, x-rays in hand. She spoke in simple phrases that her Chinese patient might understand.
“It’s badly broken.”
Tears welled in Mei’s eyes.
“We need to start intravenous.”
Blank stares answered. Fear, like the gray storm that covered the mountains’ peaks, clouded Mei’s face.
The doctor glanced at the nurse. “She needs someone who knows her language.”
The nurse punched phone numbers to the private line of the translation service and turned on the speaker.
“Chinese, please. Mandarin.”
In gentle tones, the conversation progressed. Back and forth, questions were answered, explanations given.
Mei nodded and almost smiled. Her mother breathed a sigh.
“This will relax you.” The nurse, needle ready, turned a slim arm and pressed a vein.
Trust shone from dark eyes. Mei understood.
Our heavenly Father answers when we call. He answers before we call. Whatever the language, he knows how to translate every heart longing. It only takes a breath of a prayer to punch in his number.
“When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him.” Psalms 91:15
“Before they call I will answer; while they are yet speaking I will hear.” Isaiah 65:24
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