Dell Hospital, Austin

I've spent the past three days with my friend, Lisa, who is a foster mother and parent of two little girls she adopted out of the system. The little boy she is caring for is in the hospital with no kidneys and has been in the intensive care unit for the past two months. Lisa is here every day with her daughters, 5 and 6, sitting in a small room or playing outside.

I spent yesterday at her home, cleaning, and five hours of solid cleaning was better than a morning here. Every moment simply feels as though it would be better spent just about anywhere else. There is something eternally disquieting about a hospital. It's cold and impersonal, from the staff to the books and plastic toys dropped off by the toy cart. It's just exhausting.

We had a moment of playing outdoors, and for that moment I felt free. If I'm feeling the strain after just a couple of days, I simply don't know where she draws her patience from. Caring and caring and caring for children can be rewarding when you see them improve, but I certainly don't have the patience that most caretakers possess, particularly when confined to a small room. It is truly an attitude of selflessness.

The hospital I dream of is much different from this antiseptic place. It is filled with sunshine and green plants. Dirt abounds, and playing in it is encouraged. The hospital is set amidst vineyards, and red wine flows in the evenings under starry, clear evenings. Fluorescent lights are replaced with soft bulbs, linoleum by hardwood floors and plastic by glass and wood cabinetry. My hospital is warm and filling to all who step into it. Food is doled out liberally and eaten communally.

When it is cold, fires are lit. Warm weather leads to open windows. There are no distractions, but just play and work and routines. We pray in the morning, afternoon and evening. There is no 'therapy' but every patient is given movement every day. No one wears scrubs, and the uniforms are warm and inviting, different shades of brilliant scarves, like saris.

The children are cared for using every piece of medicine in the known world. They are prayed over, and given to God. They are held and rocked and sung to. They get better and better. Every child gets better. Deeply better.

It is truly a place of healing ministry.