Friday, March 22, 2019

“In You, our fathers trusted…

and You delivered them…

they cried out…and we’re not disappointed. Commit yourself to the Lord,

let Him deliver you…

because He delights in you.”

Psalms 22

I am thinking of our Child Safety Initiative this morning as I read Psalms 22. “Cry out to the Lord”, the Psalmist writes, “and be delivered”. He answers every prayer though not always as we expect. Nonetheless, cry out. He will deliver you.

It is a clear, shining day. The past few have been dulled by the smoke of a forest fire just out of town but today, it is clearing.

Our clinic is in the city, a short drive away. Eva tells me, as we pass by Catholic Cathedral, that it was built by the Spaniards for the rich. There is a smaller one a few blocks away, grand in it’s own way, built for the poor.

The church sanctuary is large and airy. There are white banners on the walls. Each one with golden letters spelling a different name of God: Jireh, El Shaddai, El Elyon, Rafa, Jesus. On the altar there is the Arc of the Covenant in miniature. These are powerful reminders of our powerful, trustworthy God.

We are to see the Child Champions this morning, a kind of Big Brother/Big Sister. They are volunteers in each community who have committed to caring for the children. They wear bright shirts of orange that say “I am a ‘Campeon’.

We are short on interpreters so I watch and help as needed. I close my eyes and listen. The combining sounds float like waves. They ebb and flow in undulating crescendos. Like jumping fish, singular voices rise above the rest to resonate clearly: a baby’s anguished cry, the lyrical popping of joyful laughter, a bursting of grateful Spanish, the hush of voices in prayer. This is the symphony of sound that accompanies the splendid coming together of a clinic in unison. If you listen closely enough you might even hear the whirr of angel wings.

The line to wait for an exam begins to lengthen and there are several young children in it. Seeing this, I grab a tennis ball to distract the little ones and soon find out that all ages beam with delight when it is their turn to catch the ball. I transition to having my new found 3 year old friend, Jeremy, toss the ball to each one. It is a marvelous volley of intergenerational connection, for me as well.

A Champion comes in wearing a purple shirt with Juecus 4:9 printed on it. As she sits, back to me, I try to figure out which Bible book it is. I settle upon Judges 4:9 “Surely I will go with you…for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hands of a woman.” It talks about how God invited Barak to join Him in blessing Israel but he was too afraid to go. As a result the blessing was given to Deborah, a mighty woman of God. This child Champion is indeed a mighty woman of God. She listened to His call and joined Him in His work. The blessing is hers.

God invites us into His work. He doesn’t need us but He invites so that we might experience first-hand how He works and partake of the blessings. I shared this with her and for the rest of the day whenever I saw her, I called her Mighty Woman of God.

When sweet interpreting Johanna becomes free, I grab the open seat and do a few exams. We see a16 year old girl who is 7 months pregnant. She is smiling and interested in all my teaching. My Mighty Woman of God comes beside her and hugs her in greeting. I pray for her and her baby and, smiling though with tears in her eyes, she goes to vitamins.

Emily tells me later that she prayed for the same girl. The girl told her that she did not consent when the baby was conceived. She has some kind of lawsuit out against the baby’s father but wasn’t willing to give any more details.

I marvel at the news. This young woman seems self assured and well loved and adapting nicely to pregnancy. I pray again, this time for my Mighty Woman of God. I ask that she might join God in His work in the life of this Mama to be. I think back to Psalms 22 and smile remembering that God delights in her and has promised to ‘deliver’ her.

There. Do you hear? Angel wings again.

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Today we travel to the south of town. Clinic is at a remote church up, of course, a steep stairway on the top of the hill: Iglesias del Dios.

There is a brightly painted sanctuary with the ample space for clinic. I am paired today with Johana and she is an excellent interpreter. Yay!

We are seeing kids, their moms and abuelas today. I have a mom who comes to me with her three children. She is hypertensive and was diagnosed with diabetes in January. She was sent home on insulin but with no way to monitor her sugar. As we talk, it becomes obvious that her care is complicated and will require the many different talents of our team.

I do the initial assessment. Trisha takes the opportunity to counsel her about her diet. Dr. Rich takes time to adjust her meds. Kelly finds a way do obtain a glucose monitor for her to use at home. The project coordinator and Eva arrange for it’s delivery. Grayce gives them all vitamins. Doreen, Daniel and Vanessa sort out her meds. Charis shares the Gospel color story with her children. And Johana prays with her.

Like a beautiful song, it’s start is slow and dark. The harmony takes over, adding beauty and depth. As the melody quickens, the song ends in crescendo of hope. It is so good when a plan comes together.

Most of the homes below are small, square or rectangular, brick and wood houses with tin metal roofs. They cover every inch of every side of the multi-level small valley reminding me of the terraced farms of the Mayans that I learned about in grade school.

It gets warm at times but the cooling mountain breezes coming through the open windows revive me at regular intervals. There is lively music wafting on the wind mixed with the sound of far away hammering and car horns in the distance. I smell the wood fires of lunch from the valley below but am told it is not from cooking but from two house fires which both burned to the ground.

The smoke in the air is giving many people trouble breathing. I am called away just as I finish with one patient to attend to a 10 year old in respiratory distress. Her name is Nazareth and she is struggling to breathe. She is not moving a lot of oxygen in and out of her lungs. Dr. Roger asked me to give her a breathing treatment and she starts to cry. I reassure her that there will be no ‘dolore’=pain.

She is pale and unmoving as she works hard to move air and I press on quickly. During the treatment, I softly tickle her ears and face as my mother would do with me when I was sick. I loved those times that it almost made being sick worth it to me. When I pause to check her breath sounds, she reaches for my hand and takes it back to her face. It seems she likes it too.

Her mother is frantic with worry, crying and shaking. Her deep love for her daughter shining in her tears. Eva and I come around her, holding her steady and pray. I remember my own desperation when I accidentally dropped one of my babies on his head. I was a nurse and yet I forgot all my training and was frantic as well. It is, I think, a mother’s birthright to freak out just as it is my honor to steady her in her storm.

Soon Nazareth’s whole body is noticeably relaxing. Her skin is pink and her vital signs are improving. She is able to smile now, to wiggle in the chair and even to talk to me. It is not long before she can wave to the camera and ask for a snack.

She will still need monitoring but her scary breathing is over. Her calming Mama prepares to take her to the hospital. When they leave, they are both smiling and we all breathe a grateful sigh of relief.

~Anne~

Wednesday, March 20.

Today is our day off. We will have our fifth day of clinic on Saturday instead.

Having slept in, we load the bus for a tourist adventure. We are going into the mountains today to a park and a town.

I look out my window to see a rolicking teenage brother with his two young sisters playing tag on the narrow upward street. Mama smiling in the nearby doorway.

Driving slowly down a hilly street we pause. I find myself on level with a Mama flipping tortillas in her kitchen. I see her through my tinted window though she is cannot see me. There is something sacred about the sight; something of the divine as I catch a glimpse of her mother’s heart.

As we leave the city, I see a sign in Spanish that I can read. It says Jesus is the only exit. It makes me smile.

I sit next to Eva and we chat all the way up the mountain. She tells me her name means Warrior, Child of the Champion. It is the perfect name for one such as she, whose job it is to fight for the children. She does so with courage and grace and humor.

Picacho de Noche park is our first stop. It is on Silver Mountain and features a giant statue of Jesus at his Ascension. In the 1800’s, this area was rich in gold and silver mines. This mountain in particular is riddled with abandoned Silver mines, hence its name.

It is a haven of natural beauty with Jesus as it’s focal point. He watches over the city with hands outstretched. As I stand behind Him, it is a picture of Deuteronomy 31:8- “the Lord is the One Who goes ahead of you. He will not take away his help from you or give you up, so have no fear”.

The team comes together under the trees to talk about our week. There have been some heavy issues. What a perfect place to gather and encourage each other to bring those issues to God. His statue reminding us that He has gone ahead of us so we do not need to fear.

There is a boulder at the foot of Jesus that holds a plaque of Luke 24:50-51:“…And He lifted up his hands and blessed them.” And so He does, again, today.

We stop at a ‘mini zoo’ for lunch. It features two of the country’s national icons: the national animal, the white tailed deer and the national bird, the scarlet macaw. There is also a tapir, a javelina/warthoggish dude, bunnies, ponies and some very talkative sheep. We find a lovely respite among the trees and flowers.

The afternoon is spent shopping in a quaint town of shop lined streets. It is good to decompress and simply be with each other.

Tuesday, March 19

“He went out not knowing where he was going.”Hebrew 11:8

“Abraham believed God” Romams 4:3

Believing God. This is the sash on my tunic and I tighten it this morning. Mr. Chambers tells me today that a life of faith is not knowing where I am being led but knowing the One Who leads. Faith is rooted in a Person. Jesus.

I often fear that I am being naive. And this may be true but I think my true naivete is in my shallowness in believing God and not in the possibilities of this world.

Here’s to a day of faith, tested and true, built on the one true God.

We arrive at clinic in the same church, CBI and Stephen is asked to lead us in devotions today:

Allow us to step into Your purposes. Into our divine moments. The word moment, comes from the Greek word for Atom. There is great power when one splits the atom and there is great power in moments realized.

On my way to the bathroom, I see three preteen boys huddled around a phone playing a Sonic game. When I talk to them in English, they become all shy and hide the game. I tell them I’ve seen that before but because, of course, I cannot speak Spanish, they just giggle. Later, they greet me at the bottom of the stairs and we manage to figure some things out. Their names are Edgar, Josue, and Gerard and they are friends. Edgar is 12, Josue is 13 and Gerard is 14. I tell them that my son is 12 and I show them a picture of Jose and his baseball uniform. They call Jose my Miho and right they are. Later, Josue finds me to say goodbye.

Dr. Roger is my table partner again. He is given a bag of little girl sunglasses to give out and so he begins with his patient zero. Soon after several other little girls come running back. As Roger looks up, I tell him they want sunglasses as if he needed me to translate. Realizing my mistake, we all laugh. Roger asks if we have switched jobs and now I translate for him.

Asly comes to me. She is a 10 year old girl and has a stomach ache. As I take her hands in mine, Mama immediately tells me that she has trouble with sweaty hands. Asly hands are cold, clammy and dripping wet as if she had just washed them. Mama says they are always like that. In school, she soaks the paper when she writes. After a consult with Dr. Nate and Dr. Roger, it is decided that Asly has hyperhidrosis or excessive sweating. It most often affects post puberty children, so in one so young as Asly, it may be an indication of an underlying systemic problem. She will need follow up of both medical and prayer.

Pastor Joel, from the service on Sunday, joins us in clinic today and I am asked to tell him about Keni. He tells me that he already knows the family because they worship here. He tells me that he met them on the way to another church. While he was traveling to the other church, his car was surrounded by gang members and God sent a woman, who was like an angel. She dispersed the gang members. Keni’s father has been coming here ever since. He and his wife are new followers of Jesus.

Pastor says that dad is an alcoholic and a security guard which means he has a gun. Pastor knows it can be volatile at home and has been working with him. He thanks me for my report about Keni so he can help the whole family.

I tell him that yesterday my heart was feeling so powerless for Keni. I tell him that because of his sermon, I asked God to button up my tunic and make a way. And, then today, I see He has already done it.

Stephen’s words take form before me. How powerful is a moment realized through God’s beautiful provision of this precious man. A faithful man of God who is so open to the One Who leads him and so humble and kind as to thank me in return.

He and I may not know where God will lead us but surely we can know He Who does the leading.

“How great is the love the Father has lavished on us…!”

I John 3:1