On Moving Mountains

1/19/21

We find ourselves in rural Guatemala again. Hot in the day and cool in the night,  It’s the end of the dry season here.  Today the nurses and some administrative personnel at the hospital went up into the mountains to distribute food to some local widows, purchasing their pine needle baskets- the only source of income for some of these women.  Some are put to use as holders for eggs, keys, etc.  Others are sold to members of short term mission teams that come through and the monies used to support the project.

I stayed back today with April and the kids, attending to various urgent needs that present to the hospital.  Among those needs was a baby boy I’d seen yesterday.  April and I were walking down the main drag here when we were approached by an indigenous woman and her little girl.  The woman, who held a small bundle in her arms, had that all too familiar look of the terror that grips a parent who just knows something is not right with their little one. The bundle was a baby.  The baby, wrapped in multiple layers of clothing, was said to “have a fever”.  I figured the mom had just over-bundled the baby and needed to let the kid air out a little- and that was true to an extent. 

The hospital was closed for outpatient visits.  It was Sunday.  It was hot.  I said to go to the government hospital.  The woman began to cry.  April convinced me to bring the family in for a glass of water and an exam.  She is the better half, for sure. 

We made our way to the hospital together.  It turns out that the over bundled baby was a 10 pound 5 month old with a fever and cough.  The child clearly had a developmental delay - in no small part from malnutrition. This was not good.  Mom had nothing.  She’d spent what little she had getting on a bus and traveling an hour to see us.  Also not good. Her little girl with her, about 8 years old, was an unforgettable smiling ball of joy.  

After stripping off the kid’s layers and giving him some Tylenol, the fever broke.  My exam said that the child had a lung infection.  I opted to treat the child with an injectable antibiotic as well as oral antibiotic.  But then what?  Seeing the child improve some, we decided to help the family with food and a bus fare and have them come back the following day.  I wasn’t sure if the money would disappear.  Would the family disappear as well?

I was pleased today when the mother, her countenance now much brighter came in with a much better appearing little one.  We repeated the antibiotic dose and hope to see him back tomorrow. Will they return tomorrow?  Will the antibiotics work?  Time will tell. 

Sometimes I’m not sure what the purpose of a day is.  Sometimes it is very clear. I am convinced that God “owns the cattle on a thousand hills”.  It’s all his.  My time.  My resources.  They aren’t mine.  And sometimes he drags my whole family across the world to treat a random poverty stricken kid with pneumonia on a Sunday in spite of me.  That’s God’s economics. It’s how he loves a disabled child from a remote village and his mother and beautiful big sister. It's how he loves you and how he loves me.

Psalm 50 v 7-15

10 

"For all the animals of the forest are mine,

    and I own the cattle on a thousand hills.

11 

I know every bird on the mountains,

    and all the animals of the field are mine.

12 

If I were hungry, I would not tell you,

    for all the world is mine and everything in it.

14 

Make thankfulness your sacrifice to God,

    and keep the vows you made to the Most High.

15 

Then call on me when you are in trouble,

    and I will rescue you,

    and you will give me glory.”