There are days when clinic goes so smoothly—days when the most serious thing you see is a snotty nose, and you leave with a smile on your face. Last Saturday was, to be sure, not one of those days. And I knew it from the start when the first kid that came in sounded like there were rice crispies in his lungs.

The sick people kept on coming—one after another. At this point, it’s no new thing for me to feel worried or super heartbroken for those that come in; it literally happens almost every single clinic day. What was new to me was being completely shocked by something that I saw. I guess there’s a first time for everything.

This lady came into the clinic with her four children. She handed me the smallest of them, which I thought was surely a premature newborn at best, and relayed to me that the baby had “fire in her mouth”. I looked at it and, sure enough, it was filled with white patches of yeast all over. This little one had thrush, which is honestly not so uncommon and definitely treatable. But my jaw almost hit the floor when I found out she was two months old. At first, my brain heard dos semanas instead of dos meses, because two weeks old made way more sense to it. But she repeated herself, and that’s when I experienced my first shock.

All I could think was this: I don’t care what third-world country I’m in, a two-month-old baby should never weigh five pounds. Not ever.

The longer she was there, the more I started to realize why this baby was not eating or gaining any weight: the other children in this family were completely out of control. Nothing out of the ordinary, just everything that comes with having three toddlers under the age of four. It was hard to watch this momma try to juggle all of them at once. Knowing that the baby was probably difficult to feed because of the thrush and seeing the chaos that she probably experienced daily made it clear that she literally didn’t have time to try to make the baby eat. What she overlooked is that eating is not a luxury; it is absolutely essential to sustain life.

We fed the baby as much as we could and asked her mom to keep returning for more formula. She came back once, but since then we haven’t seen her. Now the what if’s are starting to creep in…

But I can honestly rest in the fact that God loves her far more and can care for her far better than anyone on earth is able to, myself included. While I spent a few brief minutes with this baby, He actually created her— fearfully and wonderfully made her in his own image. I’m just in awe that He would still provide me with this peace that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7). How inexplicable and incredible is that? It’s kind of hard to even fathom having true peace about something that is beyond my understanding. Not understanding things doesn’t seem like it would give me any peace at all, but here I find myself resting in His kept promise, praying this verse for myself and for her:

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” Romans 15:13

Side note: I can’t help but see the parallel between the physical and spiritual realms here. This baby was near death because her mom presumably wasn’t able to spend enough time trying to feed her. Like literal food, time spent with God is spiritual food. It is absolutely not a luxury, but more like the manna that was provided for the Israelites: it’s our daily bread, food for our souls. So, do whatever it takes to encounter him. Make the effort necessary. It’s what we were created for, and it’s the most important thing we can do in this life.

Guest Post: Victoria Way

I really think there is only a certain level of compassion a person can have from the outside looking in. Of course, your heart can be sad from a story that you hear or from things that you know are happening to innocent people in foreign places, but only to a certain extent. For instance, my heart is only able to be so heavy for the people of Syria—and I think it’s because there is just a new level of compassion to be had for people that you know personally. That’s what is happening to me here in Guatemala. What I thought was heartbreak before is nothing compared to the heartbreak I feel when I actually look the hurting people of this place in the eyes. Because there is something that happens to you when you get to know people. It changes everything.

While I’ve seen all kinds of illnesses since I’ve been here, this one patient continues to stick out in my mind. She was 18 years old, and her complaint was that she felt pain in her heart. Though this could have easily been a medical emergency, I quickly found out that the chest pain was due to sadness and anxiety from things that were going on in her life. Have you ever had a moment where it felt like a lightening bolt strikes all the way through you? That’s how I felt talking to this patient, and I know why. Because I’m not that far away from eighteen. Because I remember what it was like to be her age, and because I remember my biggest concerns being getting to class on time and what I was doing that weekend. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? When you’re 18, shouldn’t you be carefree? Not here, and not in many places. And, of course, I was never naïve enough to think otherwise, but it’s a different thing when you see it firsthand and suddenly have the overwhelming realization there is such a disparity between your life and hers. It wasn’t even so much this particular story of this particular patient as it was the whole wealth of people that she represented to me. How’s that for heartbreak #1 million.

Here are two silver linings to this story:

11.     She came to us, and for that she heard of the peace that God can provide and the hope that is found in Jesus. He is the only hope for all of us, no matter where you live or what you are doing. And I remembered that even though my life was so much easier at 18, I was essentially floating in the same boat as she is. A life apart from Christ is an empty life from every angle. I can only hope that the words we spoke to her sink in. For his yoke is easy, and his burden is light (Matthew 11:30).

22.     I delight in the fact that God is breaking my heart for the things that break his. My desire is to care deeply about the things that my heavenly Father cares about—so I can only pray that He keeps opening my eyes to see things as they really are.

As I think about this little girl more (though she’s not really so little), I remember how essential the Gospel is to every single person everywhere on the planet. “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news” (Isaiah 52:7a). Please pray that we would continue to be those feet!

Guest Post: Victoria Way

As a newcomer to Canilla, I write this blog with fresh eyes after just seeing so much of this beautiful country and many of its people for the first time. Thus far during my days here, I’ve been given the opportunity to serve in the clinics that are held weekly. For anyone that knows me, this is more than my medicine loving heart knows what to do with. While I literally can’t get enough of interacting with patients and learning trademark signs and symptoms of certain illnesses, it’s more than just the medicine that I am so enthralled with. My spirit is well aware that physical life is so unimportant when lined up next to eternal life. Jesus doesn’t just get pushed to the side here. He’s the center of every single part of every single day. Mind=blown.

Each Sunday we hold clinic in San Andres (if you want to know where that is, everyone here will tell you its just over those mountains over there—all I know is it’s about 30 minutes up the road). On the ride there my first week, my new dear friends Leslie (supernurse) and Adrienne (organizational mastermind) forewarned me that this clinic was the more hectic of the one’s I’d been to. And it was. There were lots of people coming in and out all day, and it felt like we saw one hundred million patients. Some were super sick while others just needed someone to listen to them talk for a little while. Regardless of their reason for coming, each one was given love just the same. A few were prayed for, many were given medicines, but everyone was served with the love of Christ. It was such a reminder that even in the chaos, no matter the circumstances, Jesus can be shown to the least of these. That’s the only reason to do medicine at all.

There was one particular patient we saw who had broken her leg very badly several years ago. God chose to miraculously heal her, as her leg used to be about 3 inches shorter than the one that had not been broken due to the shattering of her bone. Though this miracle has taken place, she is still in disbelief. It saddened my heart to see her walking with crutches when I knew she could do otherwise. But when I dwelled on it some more, I realized how common this is to so many people. What are you and I letting hold us back even though God has set us free?

“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom” (2 Corinthians 3:17). What a humbling reminder to walk in the freedom that God has so graciously given to us. It’s a daily decision that has to be made, but that freedom is there waiting to be embraced every single day. I’m praying that this verse will sit in the forefronts of our minds as God allows us to be his hands and feet here in Guatemala.  

It's been a while....but we have two new grandchildren who safely arrived in the last two weeks! Thanks to God, both moms and both babies are healthy and beautiful!

Now that the babies are here, we find ourselves running from morning to night! With Katie on maternity leave and then afterward transitioning to director of the nursing school, I find myself again, managing clinics alone. I have lots of help from our Guatemalan assistants who are invaluable and from those who have come to help - Adrienne (biology teacher and an amazing manager/organizer) and Victoria (soon to be medical student who speaks Spanish) - so I am not really alone. Thursday we went up to our monthly clinic in Chumisa where we saw over 100 patients. As we were getting ready to leave and the first raindrops were beginning to fall (which makes the drive home slightly more treacherous!) another baby arrived who of course, was the sickest little one we had seen all day. He was breathing about 80 times a minute and his lips were blue. His lungs were filled with infection. We tried to give him the only thing we had to offer medically - an oral antibiotic - which he quickly vomited. We talked with his mom about how she needed to take him to the hospital as quickly as possible but she had to talk with her husband first. So we took her to her house and finally met her husband. After quite a bit of discussion, they decided to wait until they could borrow some money and then they would go - maybe - the next morning. My medical mind knew that he would probably not live until morning. But as we prayed that God would breath the breath of life into this little one, there was a flicker of hope that He would bring healing to these little lungs. I will not know the outcome until the next time we go up to Chumisa and possibly not even then, but I have to trust in that which I cannot see - a God who is so much bigger and more powerful and more loving than anything that I can even imagine - into His hands I trust this little one. I have to say that I didn't sleep much that night as I struggle trying to think of how else we could have helped this family but ultimately it becomes a matter of trust...
Isn't that how all of life is?

Now this is the confidence that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears us, whatever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we have asked of Him.  1 John 5:14, 15.

20 year old Maria (not her real name) came in yesterday for the second time in the last couple of months. She had lost more weight - was now down to 68 pounds. I knew that she had diabetes from her last visit. I also knew that she had not been taking her medicine. As I began to talk with her, trying to understand why she had not come back, why she was not taking care of herself, I began to realize that she was all alone. She lives in "the land of pigs" (affectionately named that because almost everyone there has big fat pigs living in their yards or on their porches) with her father. Her mother died many years ago and her father remarried. Maria had become the servant to her stepmother. She began to cry as she told me how her father said that it didn't really matter to him if she lived or died....that she was of no importance to him. He would not give her the Q12 (about $1.75) necessary to come to clinic.

Armando and I began to talk with her about her heavenly Father who would never reject her or leave her....that He would never withhold any good gift from her. She eagerly repeated the prayer of salvation with Armando and jumped up to hug me when I gave her a Bible.  We will give her a few hours of work each week so that she can pay for her bus fare to the clinic. That was the easy part...now we have to figure out how to do what Jesus asks of us....to make disciples. We encouraged her to go to the little church that is in her village but are not sure if there is a pastor there now. As Jesus said, "The harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few. Therefore, pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest." Matthew 9:37.

So if you think of it, pray for Maria....pray that she grows in the truth of her new faith; pray that she finds a church who will be to her what she needs now - a family;  and pray that the Lord heals her body. Thanks!

A few weeks ago, we were asked by our friends in Chumisa (the village that we have our monthly clinic in) to come to a party to celebrate the inauguration of the new clinic building. We knew this was going to be a big deal since the mayor from the main city that is over all the villages that make up the township of Joyabaj (including Chumisa) was going to be there as well. However, even knowing this, I was still surprised to hear the marimba music and the “bombas” (a sort of celebratory bomb that they use here to celebrate anything of importance) going off in the distance as we approached the village yesterday morning. We walked over the muddy trail that made up the end of the road we came in on and arrived at the small clearing that makes up this town’s “main square” to find people lined up along both sides of the road and all around the clinic building. The main attraction was definitely the stage which held the men that made up the band of marimba players, who appeared to have been entertaining the crowd with their playing for a few hours already. As we greeted and were greeted by both familiar and unfamiliar faces, we made our way to a few empty seats also facing the main stage, taking in the sights. Excitement was in the air, and a few men - who had already had way too much to drink - entertained everyone with their dancing as they swayed to the sound of the music. Others had cameras and video cameras ready (an odd sight to see in the middle of a mountainside out here), which they promptly turned on as the mayor arrived and the inauguration service began. The mayor gave a few words about the importance and blessing that the leaders there were for their community, Duane and Leslie both followed with a few words of appreciation for allowing us to partner with them and our desire to continue to do so, and the main leader in the village, Pedro, finished up with more words of appreciation for the partnership that has been established between us and them. This was then followed by a ceremonial cutting of the ribbon across the doors that led to the clinic rooms and then a meal to follow.

 

 

 

And overall, it was a fine party, but there was no denying the spiritual strongholds that still keep that area captive to darkness. From the cases of booze lined up along the road to the candles lit in honor of saints and gods that have provided for them, it was hard to miss the gaping hole that should have been Jesus.

 

These people have become very dear to our hearts over the years that we have worked there; the men are hard workers who advocate for and take care of their families and people, and the people are always grateful for anything that we offer them. But there is a spirit of bondage that is still very real there among the people, and as I have processed through it more in the time after we left, the well-known words of Isaiah 61 have come back to me… “The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners…” (emphasis mine)

Oh, that we may never take for granted the amazing freedom we have been given… and may we never ever lose our burden to see the lost around us come to know that same freedom in their own lives.

Gosh, a whole month has past since I posted last...this has been a busy month with lots of visitors and a couple of teams. Our schedule is finally returning to "normal". Our children, Joseph and Rachel, who have spent the last 6 months in the US, are home. They did a six month internship at IHOP, (the International House of Prayer - not pancakes!) praying from 11pm to 6am each night and attending classes during the day. They, along with David -who spent 3 months there, have returned with renewed faith and passion for Jesus. There is nothing that brings more joy to my heart than to see our children following hard after God. We are very, very grateful to Him because we know that it is only by His grace and mercy that our children are walking out their faith. I often remember those days when we made the decision to move our family here. We were met with such opposition from family and friends who feared that we were endangering our family by leaving our culture and the benefits of growing  up in the US. And then I remember all of the mistakes I made in raising them...and I know without a doubt that God has had His hand upon them.

Progress toward the acute care center continues. We have lab equipment coming soon. The dorm construction is coming together - the roof is almost ready to go on. The paperwork for the nursing school is in progress - although we ask for your prayers in this. We need favor with the Guatemalan government to get final approval to be able to start in January. The physical help that we need is beginning to come. Adrienne, our long time friend will come in August. She is an enormous help and has an ability to see what needs to be done often before we do. And we will begin to get to know the physicians who have committed to come, this fall. It is overwhelming if I think about it too much or think too much in the future. So I just take today....and rest in the knowledge that He is in control.
"But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." Matthew 6:33