On this day 16 years ago, my life was changed. I was 16 years old and was 1/2 way through a 12 day mission trip to Guatemala.
I had always wanted to go on a trip like this and my Dad had come across a group called Students International (SI) while at a youth pastor's convention. He came back excited to tell me about an opportunity to do a medical mission trip (I wanted to be a nurse at that point) that was in May (I didn't want to do a summer trip b/c it would interfere with working at and going to camp). We researched the organization and discovered that there was a home-school team from Maine I could join (even though I wasn't home-schooled). I talked to my teachers ( I went to a public high school and would be missing 2 weeks of school) and they all gave me the go-ahead and said I wouldn't need to make up any work, just asked that I present about my trip when I returned. I wrote my support letters and received way more than I needed for my trip and I geared up to go on the adventure of a lifetime.
On Mother's Day that year (about a week before I was due to leave) I remember sitting in our high school Sunday School room when my Mom came into our class and somehow told my Dad and I that my cousin Ryan (I think he was 10 at that point) had been taken to the Children's hospital in San Diego and was in the ICU. I left Sunday school and left with my Mom to San Diego. When we got to his room, Ryan was hooked up to more machines, wires, and tubes than I had ever thought possible. I remember being overwhelmed just looking at them. He didn't look like himself...he was puffy/swollen and parts of his skin had turned black. I had no clue what to make of it all. Nobody knew what was wrong or what had caused Ryan to get so sick. Over the course of the next week I made a few more trips to San Diego and my Mom stayed with my Uncle as often and as much as she could.
The time came to leave for my trip so I packed my bags and said goodbye to my parents who took me to LAX and put me on a plane to Guatemala. I wouldn't know anybody on this trip and was told that I could connect with a team member at the airport. I somehow found that team member and quickly said "hi" before boarding the plane. We both sat in different sections. I remember sitting in my seat, looking out the plane window and being both excited and nervous all at the same time. It was a red-eye flight and I'm not sure I slept at all. Someone from SI was at the airport to pick us up and before I knew it we were in a van and on our way. It'd be just over an hour's drive to get to Antigua from the capital city. There was so much to see on the drive...beautiful forest, dirty/busy city, small little towns with streets lined with colorful walls that contained doors and windows of all shapes and sizes.
That 1st week of ministry involved working in a small clinic in an amazing little village called Santa Maria de Jesus. The people were beautiful. They wore the traditional huipil and long skirt that was special to their town. Each huipil was so intricately and beautifully woven and most of the women wore their hair in long braids. We'd take the bus up the mountain each morning as a team and then our role was to assist the SI doctor (a Guatemalan national) in doing assessments and seeing patients. We mostly just did weights, heights, temperatures, etc. We'd work in the clinic each morning, break for lunch, and then do house-visits each afternoon. I loved it all! Once we got back from our work-sites each evening we had a bit of free-time to explore the city and then after dinner we'd do devotions and recap our days together. Each team would tell about their ministry site and what they saw, did, learned, etc.
The 2nd week our team was going to spend our mornings in the capital city, assisting/watching surgeries and helping in one of the hospitals. I don't remember what I saw that 1st day but it was probably a historectomy or a prostate surgery...seems like that was the majority of what we ended up seeing. After our time in Guatemala City that morning we came back for lunch and then went to a local "hospital", Frey Guillermo. Edgar, our site leader took us to the children's ward where there were probably 5-8 babies/toddlers. As we walked from crib to crib, we were told that most of these babies were here due to a cleft lip/palate and malnutrition. In order for these babies to have surgery they had to reach 10 lbs and most of them were 5 or 6 months old and nowhere near 10lbs. I got to hold 2 in particular, Jose Miguel & Maria, both close to 6 months and soo very tiny. When we left that place after an hour or so, I knew I had to go back.Those babies tugged at my heart like nothing/no one ever had.
When I got back to the SI house that afternoon, I was told that my Dad had called. I knew something was wrong. I remember sitting up on my top bunk and journaling, wondering why my Dad had called and trying to guess at what might be wrong. I knew he wouldn't call for nothing. Free time ended and dinner came. Sometime in the middle of dinner one of the staff members came and got me and told me I had a phone call. They must have known what my Dad was about to tell me because 2 of the staff members stayed in the room while I talked to my Dad. My Dad informed me that Ryan had died and that his memorial service would be on Saturday, the day I was supposed to fly home. He told me I had the choice to come home early so I could attend the service or stay and finish my trip. I chose to stay. I don't remember much else of that conversation but what I do remember is the sweet couple from the SI staff who sat with me once I hung up the phone.
I'm not big on crying in front of others or even showing much emotion of any kind and yet there I was, far from home, surrounded by people I had only known a week, and trying to process what I had just been told. I don't know what was said or really what I did, I just remember sitting in the office crying with George and Kathy sitting with me. I don't know if they said or did anything, whether they hugged me or held me, but I do remember that they were there and that I somehow felt safe. After awhile I joined my team for our nightly devotions and once again, don't remember much, just that they loved me and cared for my broken heart. I remember singing a certain song that I can't remember much of to this day. All I remember is: "Come and join the reapers, all the kingdom seekers, come and join the weary, the faithful men." (if that's even how it goes) That song somehow became our team song and still to this day, the little I can remember of it, goes through my head.
The rest of my 2nd week of ministry was spent in the capital city each morning and then each afternoon, as soon as free-time came, I'd head over to the hospital to hold those babies. When I was holding those babies and was sitting in that place, I knew that God was calling me to serve Him in a country that I had fallen in love with, with little ones who needed to be held and loved. God had captured my heart for a people that He loves and had placed within me a passion and desire to love them. I loved their culture, their clothes, their language...I loved everything about Guatemala! Before I left to return home at the end of my 2 weeks I was told about an opportunity to return that summer for a 4 week trip...I told them I'd be there (even though I had yet to ask my parents).
I flew home to be picked up by my parents and immediately taken to my Uncle's house where family had all gathered after Ryan's service. It was so surreal to be hit with the reality that Ryan was gone and to see the grief/sadness in the faces of my family members while still on a high of sorts from all that I had experienced in my 2 weeks in Guatemala. It was sort of a clash of life and death and I was caught in the middle. My life had changed and I had grown so much in 2 short weeks...I knew I'd never be the same. I did return that summer for 4 weeks and got to spend almost every day in that hospital, holding my sweet babies, usually both at the same time! Sitting there, holding them, I felt peace and content like never before. It was that feeling of knowing that I was exactly where God wanted me and was doing what He had created me to do. This is what I was made for...loving little ones and caring for those who were so fragile.
Fast-forward to now...I've been to Guatemala at least 7 times and have served in Kenya, Cambodia and India but Guatemala has has remained my favorite and has my heart. I still feel that God has called me to serve there full-time someday. When I met my husband we had a serious talk about missions and where I felt God was calling me...We were able to serve in Guatemala on 2 different trips after being married and after his 1st day of being there, he too felt God calling him to be down there full-time. God knew even before we did that we were perfect for each other and that He'd give us the same heart's desires. We have no idea when that day will be or what exactly our area of ministry will be, but we know with all our hearts that God has called us to Guatemala and we long for that day when we can live there and be there full-time. In the mean-time, until that day comes, we remain faithful to where God has placed us and learn to love/serve in the here and now, right where He has us!
