I remove the plastic cutting board from the kitchen cabinet, a sharpened knife in one hand and a freshly-picked pineapple in the other. Though my taste buds desperately await the juicy, yellow fruit lying within, the less-inviting but protective spines remind me that once cut open, this gift can only be enjoyed once. One last glance at the pineapple in its wholeness sends my heart and mind on a journey to its humble beginning- a person- the seed of a fruit now flowered, gifted, fully grown, and resting in my hands.
I recently learned that a pineapple plant dies once it produces its fruit- it spends its whole lifetime (about three years) nurturing and protecting its fruit until it is finally ready to share its sweet treasure. Its main pollinators are the whimsical, colorful hummingbird and the erratic, nocturnal bat. During its growth it remains unattractively green, hard, non-fragrant, and even noxious if ingested before it matures. The ripening process is marked by the withering away of its dry, dead spiny leaves and the transformation of its pulp into a yellow, soft, and aromatic delicacy. Though each plant produces only one fruit visible to the human eye, the pineapple is actually a collection of multiple fruits which coalesce together to form a single mass in a process called inflorescence. And as I slice through the hardness and bitterness of its rind and into the softness and sweetness of its flesh, this particular pineapple paints for me a portrait of the man for whom I cared during the dark, heavy, withering moments of his life and the transformation we all experienced into a brighter, gentler, and sweeter-scented end.
He first presented to the hospital with progressive swelling of his legs, yellowing of his skin, and difficulties breathing while walking. After a quick physical exam and some basic laboratory studies it was clear that his liver was beginning to fail. His first hospitalization, however, resulted in a hopeful discharge- with a few medications on board to help remove the fluid from his body, he left the hospital a few pounds lighter and a few breaths deeper. One month later the swelling returned, only this time expanding into his chest and filling his abdomen. His disease resisted any medications and even the removal of four liters of fluid from his abdomen. Soon we decided to pursue palliative care during what would become the last few days of his life. In this paradoxical process of dying, its life-giving fruit was beginning to make itself known. Day after day of exchanging words and gestures, working together to alleviate his symptoms of pain and restlessness, and being present to the needs of their loved one, his family and I formed a unique bond. And as the days after his death went by, the unripe, hard, scentless, and noxious reality of his death soon withered away.
A few weeks later his daughter appears outside the clinic. To my surprise, she hands me a gift wrapped in a plastic bag. She tells me they cultivate a variety of fruits and vegetables on their land, and she wants to share with me a portion of their “cosecha,” or harvest. I gratefully open the bag and inside lies a pineapple- a symbol of the fully-developed, resilient, fragrant, and healing fruit produced during one of the most difficult moments of their lives: joy. I am reminded that joy is not a fleeting sentiment nor a reward for the ambitious spirit. Just as a pineapple is planted, grown, and harvested in fertile soil, so too is joy sown, cultivated, and garnered in the ready, willing human heart. Ultimately, to choose joy is to cut through the hard, resistant rind in which it is contained and partake in the fruit hidden beneath its bitter surface.
***
This past month I had the unique opportunity to participate in a brigade to Angoteros, a small riverside community about seven hours up the Napo River. The last time I set out to this town it was a quick there-and-back trip on our ambulance boat to retrieve a woman who was dying from a severe snake envenomation. As I traverse this route a second time with a more joyful end in sight, I am reminded of both the challenges and the wonders of living in such a remote area of the Amazon rainforest.
The purpose of this trip was to train and prepare local community health workers to attend to the basic and immediate health needs of their neighbors. These community health workers are volunteers of varying ages often nominated by their communities to take on this important role. After a series of discussions on the importance of childhood vaccinations, prevention of anemia, identification of obstetric emergencies, and safe management and administration of common medications, over thirty community health workers walk away with a certificate of achievement in their hands and an incentive basket full of household necessities. We all leave refreshed, hopeful that they will make a difference in their communities.
Arriving back at our jungle “bungalow” in the afternoon, I am invited by one of the long-term Polish missionaries and a group of children to jump in the river for a swim. A moment of hesitancy dominates my thoughts as I anxiously recount the possible creatures, diseases, and exposures that lurk beneath the river's surface. However, with the sight of the cool, inviting water contained by the river’s bank, the hot and humid air manifest in the overactive sweat glands all over my body, and the Polish missionary’s testimony to never falling ill from a dunk in the water, I agree to jump in…
I am grateful to have gone for a variety of unique and beautiful swims in my life ranging from a frigid dip in the crystalline rivers and lakes of the Rocky Mountains, a peaceful float in the turquoise blue of the Caribbean Sea, a starlight soak in the sulfury hot springs atop the majestic Andes mountains, and a daring jump into the river of a pristine Costa Rican rainforest surrounded by a canopy of monkeys, hanging vines, and colorful avifauna. Yet, despite the splendor of all of these aquatic experiences my adventurous plunge into the Napo River with the Polish missionary and the five wawakuna (“children" in the indigenous language of Kichwa) was a unique and special gift.
As soon as the first splash emanates from the murky water’s surface, the joy that surrounds me emerges clear as day- the smiling faces eagerly anticipating the next courageous jumper, the contagious laughter spreading from one child to the next, the relief from the cool water enveloping our parched skin, and the playful juggling of a volleyball that, though separated in space and time, eventually unites all of our hands in this one memorable moment. Joy. I am reminded of this special gift that children so readily accept, embrace, and share with the world joy, a gift often unacknowledged and unwelcome in the adult’s complex and tireless pursuit of a life of success. In this simple yet purposeful moment an unseen void within me is instantly filled. Amidst this void carved away by difficult weeks of witnessing severely advanced yet preventable diseases, deaths both unexpected and devastatingly premature, and difficult situations in which I felt helpless and unheard, these children were placed in my path. I am reminded that even amidst the suffering, the helplessness, the fear and anxiety, the disappointment, the injustice, and the apathy, that joy can be found. And while the world promises a deceptively happy life free of trial and suffering hidden beneath the guise of possession, distraction, and selfishness, He promises a truly joyful life full of trial and suffering revealed and fulfilled in a transformed and everlasting joy.
I am reminded that joy, even in its most spontaneous and unexpected forms, sometimes requires a leap into murky waters, only to emerge cleansed, refreshed, and ready to continue the arduous journey with the heart of a child.
“Count it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials…”
Thank you for your continued prayers and support. Please know you continue to be in my thoughts and prayers as well!
A few weeks later his daughter appears outside the clinic. To my surprise, she hands me a gift wrapped in a plastic bag. She tells me they cultivate a variety of fruits and vegetables on their land, and she wants to share with me a portion of their “cosecha,” or harvest. I gratefully open the bag and inside lies a pineapple- a symbol of the fully-developed, resilient, fragrant, and healing fruit produced during one of the most difficult moments of their lives: joy. I am reminded that joy is not a fleeting sentiment nor a reward for the ambitious spirit. Just as a pineapple is planted, grown, and harvested in fertile soil, so too is joy sown, cultivated, and garnered in the ready, willing human heart. Ultimately, to choose joy is to cut through the hard, resistant rind in which it is contained and partake in the fruit hidden beneath its bitter surface.
The purpose of this trip was to train and prepare local community health workers to attend to the basic and immediate health needs of their neighbors. These community health workers are volunteers of varying ages often nominated by their communities to take on this important role. After a series of discussions on the importance of childhood vaccinations, prevention of anemia, identification of obstetric emergencies, and safe management and administration of common medications, over thirty community health workers walk away with a certificate of achievement in their hands and an incentive basket full of household necessities. We all leave refreshed, hopeful that they will make a difference in their communities.
Arriving back at our jungle “bungalow” in the afternoon, I am invited by one of the long-term Polish missionaries and a group of children to jump in the river for a swim. A moment of hesitancy dominates my thoughts as I anxiously recount the possible creatures, diseases, and exposures that lurk beneath the river's surface. However, with the sight of the cool, inviting water contained by the river’s bank, the hot and humid air manifest in the overactive sweat glands all over my body, and the Polish missionary’s testimony to never falling ill from a dunk in the water, I agree to jump in…
I am grateful to have gone for a variety of unique and beautiful swims in my life ranging from a frigid dip in the crystalline rivers and lakes of the Rocky Mountains, a peaceful float in the turquoise blue of the Caribbean Sea, a starlight soak in the sulfury hot springs atop the majestic Andes mountains, and a daring jump into the river of a pristine Costa Rican rainforest surrounded by a canopy of monkeys, hanging vines, and colorful avifauna. Yet, despite the splendor of all of these aquatic experiences my adventurous plunge into the Napo River with the Polish missionary and the five wawakuna (“children" in the indigenous language of Kichwa) was a unique and special gift.
As soon as the first splash emanates from the murky water’s surface, the joy that surrounds me emerges clear as day- the smiling faces eagerly anticipating the next courageous jumper, the contagious laughter spreading from one child to the next, the relief from the cool water enveloping our parched skin, and the playful juggling of a volleyball that, though separated in space and time, eventually unites all of our hands in this one memorable moment. Joy. I am reminded of this special gift that children so readily accept, embrace, and share with the world joy, a gift often unacknowledged and unwelcome in the adult’s complex and tireless pursuit of a life of success. In this simple yet purposeful moment an unseen void within me is instantly filled. Amidst this void carved away by difficult weeks of witnessing severely advanced yet preventable diseases, deaths both unexpected and devastatingly premature, and difficult situations in which I felt helpless and unheard, these children were placed in my path. I am reminded that even amidst the suffering, the helplessness, the fear and anxiety, the disappointment, the injustice, and the apathy, that joy can be found. And while the world promises a deceptively happy life free of trial and suffering hidden beneath the guise of possession, distraction, and selfishness, He promises a truly joyful life full of trial and suffering revealed and fulfilled in a transformed and everlasting joy.
I am reminded that joy, even in its most spontaneous and unexpected forms, sometimes requires a leap into murky waters, only to emerge cleansed, refreshed, and ready to continue the arduous journey with the heart of a child.
“Count it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials…”
~ James 1:2
Thank you for your continued prayers and support. Please know you continue to be in my thoughts and prayers as well!
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