Saturday, May 14, 2016

Milk Project building...we have a long row to hoe

I feel like adding the sub-title to this post..."And all I think I have is a spork"

Which do you want first, the good news or the bad news?  Every time someone asks me that, I ask for the bad news first.  Much like eating dinner before dessert...I want to end with a sweet taste in my mouth and not something potentially bitter.

Bitter like tears.

Dr. Darwin had a group of nutrition students working/volunteering at the clinic recently.  Maria got the results of their labor this week, and it was shocking.  Sure, I know the Milk Project is there to help those that are really struggling, kids that really need the I guess I was just naive.

I have removed this 10 year old girl's name from the report. (This was the first report I picked up...there are more like it.)  It shows that her height puts her in the .3 percentile, and weight at 11.6 percentile.

And she is listed as being in "chronic dis-nutrition grade II"

Not all the kids are in this extreme (hard to get under .3) but the majority...I was not able to actually read them all.  I was floored.

Some of this could be from their past, it is not all necessarily a reflection on today, but it is the first time I have been able to see such a report here on anyone.  We know, we see, that especially those in rural areas are shorter...lack of good access to protein, varied foods, vitamins, etc. but, well...I mean I was not expecting to read that about kids we know, we love, and we try to help.  Yeah, I know...naive.
On the positive side I means that in the selection process, Maria is doing a good job identifying families that really need help.

She was sharing about a neighbor that morning, whose son Esnel is in the project.  She knows them well.  They have been unable to find work, to provide...and finally they are selling everything they own and moving back to a very rural community where they have extended family.  Imagine the kids...from being in the capital city, plenty to see, friends/people everywhere, school (although...this year with no money, all the kids could not go) rural life:  no one living near them (very rural), no electricity, school even harder to attend/afford.  More bitter tears...this time from Maria.

It reminds me of something groups ask on occasion...when dealing with hard stories, hard life staring you in the face and the lack of a seemingly great weapon, answer, or something to do you handle that?  I wish I knew.  Seems to be a combination of a heart that is hardened...then broken and softened, and repeat, sometimes more than once in a day.  Holy Spirit intervention required.

On the good news side of things, Maria, Oscar, and I sat down to talk about different design options for the new building, as that has to be decided for plumbing and such well before we actually get to building those walls.  We are also waiting for an architect brother in the USA to give us his professional opinion as well.

The different ideas we had were for the most part pretty similar.  My favorite part of Maria's plan was the two meter hallway after coming in the door of the building.  It will serve to accommodate kids that arrive early (oh how I wish financially we could be open all day)...but the main purpose is actually a safety one.  The building will be close to the bottom of a hill, a well traveled road.  The hallway is there to provide a buffer...a speed bump if you will, for any speeding bus or vehicle that is coming down the hill and loses its brakes, to hit that and not come right into a classroom instead.

I have to admit...that was not an initial consideration I had in my planning process, but was good to know.

Also good news:  We were also blessed to start doing construction every day again!  We have saved enough donations from camps and individuals last year and with a big donation this have enough to guarantee labor for four guys!  This includes one foreman (Rolando, who has worked for us in the past.)  I wanted a foreman so Oscar does not have to oversee and make sure everything is proceeding apace every day, someone to keep ) and have the materials they will need to keep working.

Hopefully by the end of the year we will then have the actual first floor poured, and the two basement levels somewhat finished.

Then for 2017 perhaps...done?  Finishing in 2017 with exterior walls, interior walls, AC (for security...cannot have too many windows), and all the little details that add up... seems very optimistic, but then again I would not have thought we would be able to go this fast in 2016 just a few months ago.

So, I guess this post is a bit bittersweet.  I had not thought about that previously.  Not sure I will think of that word quite in the same way again.

Friday, April 29, 2016

How does that make you feel?

I do not have a picture yet, but the clinic now has a psychologist coming two days a week, to see how that will go for her...maybe expand days/hours from there.  It is an exciting time, because we know how great the need is...but also the fear sometimes in seeking that kind of help.  Stigmas, self doubt, or just cultural stuff, but praying God will use that to bring even more healing to more lives.

This has sparked some conversations, especially to understand why I am not a psychologist since I have a degree in psychology (a few people in the clinic know that.)  I guess I should have long ago put my degree to work here professionally, since I am told that would be possible.  Little do they know how little I know.  Would it really be legal?  Hard telling, and I am not planning on finding out.
Every time I hear someone is studying psychology, I break out the very corny old joke..."How does that make you feel?"  It only gets a laugh probably one out of four times...but it tickles me nonetheless, so I count it as a 100% successful.  I like it better than the much more laugh producing line: "Only crazy people study psychology."

Of course in one way or another we are all least in the broad perspective of trying to help other people mentally and spiritually...being there for someone, and trying to improve ourselves as well.

I personally think I probably do an overall sucky job at this.  Maybe a C- D+?  It reminds me though of Oscar's devotion this morning, having faith like a mustard seed.  We follow God, we tithe, we help others, we pray...but what if I asked you..."How big is your faith?  Is it bigger than a mustard seed?"  Ouch.  You go from maybe saying...hey, I do ok, to...well, I guess I get an F.  Good thing our pass fail meter gets trumped by the Jesus card.  Did I just horrifically mix metaphors?  Give me another F I suppose.
When I reflect on my week this week...not sure the grade I would get, but it surprises me how much "psychology" is wrapped up in it.

Talking with Maria about the need for the psychologist and how we could afford care for some of the kids, I ask how many she thinks really need that kind of care.  She is not sure.  But she is sure about two stories from this week she shared...a boy in the Milk Project showing signs of abuse.  She confronts...finds out the boy has been beaten with electrical cable.  His father discovered 20Lps ($.90) missing from the house, thought he did it and beat him.  Then only offered to stop if he would admit he did it.  So he did...except he did not do it, just for the beating to stop.  And of course by admitting it was him, the beating did not stop. time dad will be even more sure it was him.  What do you tell him, how to counsel, how to help?  And another family that their was some kind of mutual or some sort of spousal abuse, and the wife and two kids from the Project had to leave and are now staying with her mother, obviously all shaken up and lost for direction, and now even worse off financially than they were before...and that was not exactly peachy keen.  Dad is likely to never be in the picture anymore...I say that because I have seen it all too often.

I went to the US embassy auction today, well, the pre-auction where you can inspect the items up for sale.  This auction is very well attended, and is quite interesting.  For those that are from the USA...your embassy buys things for staff that live here, and after they leave for another assignment it goes up for sale...beds, dressers, entertainment centers, etc.

Well...also a couple coffins.  There are several witty comments I could now make, but it does get you thinking as well.  And I thought I liked to be prepared.  That is impressive actually...just too expensive for my taste for a used container.

I have to fight psychologically here a battle of trying to get some good stuff on the cheap for the mission, versus settling for something that would not be quite what we need, and/or a gamble that cheap in the end becomes expensive.  I admit that this used to be a huge problem/issue for us years ago when the mission struggled much more than it does now financially, is always a bit of a challenge, and I find culturally I am a bit mixed and confused between two cultures.

Case in point, they have backup generators that are big enough to power entire homes, the kind that are diesel, 24KW, and start up automatically when the power goes out, but are nice and quiet.

They probably have six of these...some totally done with spent motors, and this one still had tags, looked brand new, and some in between or hardly used.  Only problem is they are Chinese and almost no information is out there on parts, history, etc. (trust me, I looked.)  The clinic really needs a true backup generator (just this week they were without power up there for not quite 20 hours)...and if I could get this here for 1/2 or 1/4 what one would cost in the US before I could ship it and pay taxes...good deal?  Or taking too big a risk?  What is the right play?   People are looking to me to say whether or not that is a good idea...and yet I am looking over my shoulder for someone else to tell me the exact same thing!  When I went to look at the US cars they bring in for use there and now had for sale...there was a small crowd of other perspective buyers gathering to hear a gringo's thoughts on parts availability, reliability, and mileage of the vehicles.  That was a bit surreal.  Vehicle auctions...oh, don't get me started on the highs and lows we have seen here with those.  This time I am feeling a peace in the Spirit not of my own to stay away, we won't be taking the plunge, good or bad, on any items this time around.  Ok, I can breath now deciding that officially just now.

Sometimes psychological stuff really sneaks up on you.  I was being perfectly antisocial in the parking lot of a movie theater, enjoying the shade, looking up Chinese generators on the internet, with my headphones in, not looking up, and not leaving my vehicle, probably looking menacing and otherwise ogre-like...when this taxi driver pulled up, and seeing me hit me with three questions I am now quite accostomed to hear but still not quite sure how to answer:  "Are you from the States?  Do you speak English?  Do you speak Spanish?" Seem straightforward don't they?  Trust me, I bungle answers to those questions...although simple, they are quite thought provoking for me.  I wonder what that means.  Anyway, despite my lame answers, he proceeded to strike up a ten minute conversation about...everything.  Learning English from the "classic station" here...Bon Jovi, The Bee Gees, and The Beatles. (Yes, those were the three bands he mentioned...I figured he has the B station instead)  His five years living in Louisiana, paying a coyote to get across the border not for fear of the border patrol and just getting deported nicely, but for the Zetas (gang/drug cartel in Mexico) and them hunting/killing people trying to go across, coming back not for being deported but to be with the mother of his children.  Talking about how Indonesian people are bad...but Chinese people are hard workers and good, but fragile, and how you have to drive very carefully in the USA, but it is such a beautiful country, and even if you do not have a driver's license, if you are good, even when you get stopped by the cops it is ok.  He did sheet rock, roofing, framing, and whatever else he could find.  Oh, and he doubted that the Thai language was a real language.  

The next time a taxi driver slows me down, pulls a u-turn out of nowhere, or just is sitting on the side of the road...I will think of this complex character, his love of learning English ("Hey, you hungry?"  "It's good man, it's good!") and talking about life, threats of death and the Beatles. His fare came back, and it was time to go.

All with someone I never met before...I could practically say I avoid these conversations and yet they happen with some frequency.  Not because I look inviting to talk to, but I must be because I am white?  I guess that is a compliment.  (I did hear someone at the auction complaining about something about gringos, I was not sure what, but I went ahead and chimed in my agreement, stinking gringos!...big laugh.  Gringos are funny too I have heard.)  Anyway he seemed to be quite eager for someone to talk to, to talk about life with, how hard it is to be away from home...and every city he had ever visited in Louisiana.  I wonder if I in any way proved to be interesting conversation at least, or at all of

I had just been stopped by the police to check my paperwork, and was taking off when I saw this gentleman running on the road leaving town.

Now this...this is a conversation I couldn't not begin, because is certainly not the first swastika I have seen here, as somewhat inexplicable as that might be...but certainly the first one someone was wearing.  I had to see what was on the front of the shirt..."perpetual slavery" it said in Spanish in a harsh, militaristic font as we slowly passed to get a good look.

I could not let it braving slowing down in my lane (by this time he had crossed the road probably thinking I was going to kidnap him for tailing him or something, but still running for exercise)...I rolled down my window and asked..."What's up with your shirt?"  He replied "It does not mean what you think it means."  I amicably replied, "Ah, ok, fine." and I took off.  I took off because I was already risking someone rear ending me, this was so weird and I was just slowly driving in the right lane leaning out the window.  And then of go into a deep conversation seemed...not the right time or place.

I know the swastika did not originate with the is Indian in origin.  Whatever it meant for him on this shirt, and whatever the perpetual slavery was (the caste system?) I told Darwin who was in the car with me...after a brief pause to think this over, that if he were in the US, he would be lucky not to get beaten up wearing a shirt like that.  And then I thought...why did I just jump to presuming he meant he was using it in some Indian way or whatever way, and that it was not what it clearly seemed to be?  That was rather generous of me.  Good grief shouldn't I have told him that was a potentially catastrophically bad idea?  "Take that off you idiot!  You just look like a exercising Nazi!"

What was this guy's point?  Sometimes we have the right things to say perhaps, but there is also a right time and place to say them.  Maybe this was representing something good and true to say somehow...but even so, a T-shirt in this fashion seems not the most appropriate way to broadcast it.  And somehow...that is what bugs me the most about his shirt.  

And lastly of what I can remember, what really struck me the most...I found myself somehow giving someone marital advice.  Deep, problematic, tear jerking marital advice.  No one confides in me, how did I get here?  And what am I saying?  Wait...this is serious stuff.  This is the sort of stuff that changes lives, today and for multiple lifetimes.  I found I had plenty to say/offer, that God has more and more challenging stuff to say, and that someone more specialized should also be consulted and more deeper probing should be done.  Giving advice/guidance is fine, and good, but we have to know our limits, our own shortcomings, and know more than one source of human guidance is usually needed.

I found myself saying something that is true and yet can hurt greatly during that talk...Sometimes you have to put yourself out there, expose your feelings, your heart, and your ability to be crushed.  You have to believe that things will get better, and that God has a plan...and be open to the fact that in that moment, the other person can either come along side you, and you can grow and move forward together...or that you will be crushed, your heart stomped on in front of you and your feelings either dismissed, laughed at, or ignored...and grow and move forward anyway.  How comforting, and yet how challenging...much like what faith like a mustard seed presents.  Many examples of amazing healing and growth that we like and want to paint pictures of...and then as well Stephen, in Acts growing in faith, power and words as he was being stoned to death, with the mental painting/picture I see of that is an ugly crushing background...overcome with bright white overfilling joy.   Ultimately, I added to them, we are commanded "as long as it depends on you"...not the reaction, judgement, scorn abject dismissing or approval of others.  And then being a guy, I awkwardly said something about how that was enough of that, and started talking about cars.

How does all that make me feel?  Well...I'll have to think about it and get back to you.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Fail, struggle, stumble, trip

I am not sure that I believe that the advent of modern social media has created more of a issue of people only presenting the good, hiding the bad, and giving everyone a false impression of what their reality really is.  I tend to think that has been around for quite some time, but of course it is more in your face if you have social media than perhaps fifty years ago, and you can then get those same images from people you know but rarely get to see by not living close enough to each other to see each other on a regular basis.  I think Christmas cards used to fill that role pre-internet.

Anyway, I am so not wanting to present any image that claims we are doing everything here with absolute success.  Sure, we strive for excellence, and we try to do things continually better (although realizing that "success" in some 100% sort of ethereal way is impossible) but in just living life I think we can all agree that there are some trip ups, struggles, failures, and just stumbling along the way.

So with a sort of demented pleasure I present a of those things.

When trying to help people, it is of course difficult some times to ensure what you are doing is actually a help.  Of course you do not want to help and end up hurting and planning and thinking about that can often produce other struggles.

You can talk, educate, and even almost scare people to get them to understand their own needs that they might be neglecting (physically...weight, blood sugar, blood pressure, etc...and spiritually their need for a savior and law completer) but often in trying to help you have not made the connection you thought you did.

Darwin sent me this picture on Thursday of a 93 year old woman from our neighborhood that was using the cane and umbrella to steady herself as she walks the rough roads.  The clinic gave her this walker, and she was on her way.

Great picture, makes you feel good to see, literally, a difference being made.

The only problem is that what you see is not always what you get.

This picture I took the next day, of the same woman (wearing the same clothes from the day before?), back to just using her cane to get around.

Of course, that is her right, and I am not blaming her for not taking care of herself...she decides what is best to use to get around.

It is more an example of thinking you are helping when...obviously there was a disconnect there.

A walker is relatively minor compared to seeing people lose sight to glaucoma, limbs and/or life to diabetes, and eternity to not knowing Christ.

So yes, we try to help others, we try to help ourselves...and we screw it up, or just things happen that make you wonder where it all went wrong.

Except it did not all go wrong.  I told Darwin, sending him the picture I took, that sometimes you have to laugh to keep from crying.  Part of that is to not try to hold on to that which you cannot control.  Part of it as well though is more serious in not getting bogged down in a perceived or real failure...and instead recognize where you tripped, try not to trip there again, and strive to find a better way to walk.

Friday, April 15, 2016

Here's a tip

I learned recently that the Latin word from which we get the idea of tip in Spanish, propina, comes along the lines of "for a drink."   Hearing that made me stop what I was doing.

Tips are handled differently in different countries of course.  Some do not tip at all, some encourage generous tipping for great service.  Honduras sometimes seems to do a bit of both depending where you go and with whom you talk.

A very common phrase though by those working in impromptu work...washing the windows of your car, filling holes in the road with dirt, cleaning things up, is "para fresco!" which is essentially..."for something to drink!"

Hearing the origin of tip and then the common everyday phrase also used informally struck me.  It also strikes me that many times I have been asked to provide a bribe, it has been also in that vein, para fresco.  Once, many years ago when two policemen stopped me and threatened me with jail for an infraction that I brazenly committed (I turned left where it was not allowed) I had to give them a ride to take me to jail as they were on foot, and after driving around for some time, with them presuming I was going to crack and just offer them something I suppose, they mentioned how hot it was and how thirsty they were.  I continued to play stupid and offered to get a drink with them.  They eventually got mad that no cash was no forthcoming and told me to go away after we had gotten out of the car.  I even yelled after them "What about our drink together?" But they could not be bothered.  Several times I have offered to buy a policeman a water or other drink...but that is not the kind of thirst we are ever talking about in those situations.  The amount of money though in those bribes being sought is just about that much money...a dollar, maybe a few at most.

The irony for most people working in the streets asking for money for something to drink for their labor is that they are usually lucky to get the equivalent of a nickel or a quarter, when someone happens to come by...and then when some of them happen to want to help.  Sometimes I see people doing this in rural areas on roads, leveling poor roads with shoveled dirt.  These are roads where I can drive an hour and not see another car sometimes.

I guess what caused me to stop what I was doing hearing all this was the reminder that, for what some might be a tip, or an a livelihood for many Hondurans.  The CIA world factbook says 60% of Hondurans fall below the poverty line, and depending on the website you check determines how many millions you find live here making $2 or less per day...working for tips, or just something to drink.

Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Seeing double

We have been trying this year to take some time to look forward.  Instead of putting out as many fires of daily life, to put some things off, and think/plan/pray.  Where are we going?  What are we doing that we no longer need to do?  (sewing ministry is the first big step...we will not be continuing to do that as a mission, although some of our Churches might take some of those supplies and continue on their own.)  
Honduran labor for the mission is the future.  While there are a few of us somewhat long term missionaries hanging around, finding more of those is not likely.  And while there are no immediate plans for Valerie or myself to be leaving the country...we will be leaving one way or another at some point.  How the clinic will continue to do optometry when that time comes has been problematic.

Finding another US optometrist to come and work has been something we have been seeking for years.  That does not seem to be coming, and come to find out, those kind of folks are fairly rare.  And since optometry is not a thing here...only ophthalmology, and opthamologists usually do surgery and are also fairly rare, and thus would also be very expensive, that is not a decent option for us either.  

So trying to deal with the legal aspects, technical aspects, and everything else, we think we have found an option how to move forward.  Valerie will become a teacher in our own optometry school of sorts, training our general medical doctor Alejandra who is interested in learning and taking on the challenge.  Here in Honduras MDs can legally do everything Valerie can do...they just do not have the training.  So the idea is that Valerie will train Alejandra, starting with a few hours every day, and soon enough, poof, we will have another optometric professional.  The next few months will prove to see how that will work, it will require patience, time, and flexibility by both of them, but we are looking forward to hopefully putting to use the two optometry lanes we have equipped now, giving Valerie back up when patient loads are great, and as well giving her more flexibility for working with teams, making trips to the US, etc. without feeling like she is letting her patients down.  

Monday, April 11, 2016

Just a normal Wednesday

I have some normal days.  Those are the days I am in the office doing accounting, reporting, thinking/planning for the future, and answering emails.  Sometimes it seems I do not get enough of those, but when has anyone really ever felt like they were all caught up and everything was done?  

But I digress.  I thought I would recap Wednesday of last week, or at least a bit of it, captured in three pictures I just happened to take unrelated to each other.  
I went up to the clinic for an interview we were to have for hiring a new translator for handling Milk Project sponsor and children letters, as well as someone to help with groups.  We had a special donation last year and this year to do that. You will probably hear more on that later, but the interview went well.

I decided to go up early though to help someone out. I know Linda (right) because she used to work at the airport, and she happens to be our lawyer's daughter.  She is taking classes as the university and needed to interview someone "native to English from the United States."  (Sorry for all those Canadians, Australians and others that were probably just waiting at the airport for someone to walk up to them!)  Little did I know that there would be in fact a group interview with five other students with her!

I think my English was ok.  It was certainly a unique opportunity to speak to Hondurans where I was kind of not allowed to speak Spanish (at least while the officially recorded video interview was being done)  Some were from Tegucigalpa, some not.  We got to pray before we started (I wish I could say that was my idea...they were quite nervous) and share a bit of how God brought us here with these guys none of whom would have ever found there way to our neighborhood otherwise.
Mostly they wanted to talk about tourist things I had done here, first impressons, etc.  I was amused at some of the questions that had the same two words after them:."What struck you most about Honduras when you first came here?....Be honest!  It sure seems when someone says "Be Honest!" they are thinking or hoping you are going to say something negative.  The guy on the left there actually lived in Miami for seven years (but of course did not advance his English there!) and left his son there to move back to Honduras, after working only a day or two a week doing framing/construction work, so he decided to come back to finish studying...his law degree.  Not sure he can go back to the US to pratice law so not sure what that will mean for his son there.  

I peeked out the window just in time to see Valerie, uncharacteristically outside of the clinic.  Unusual she had no patients and was out talking to the volunteers from the Church that had done the devotional for the patients that morning, thanking them for a particularly good job.  Of course she is...because that is just the type of person she is.  Had I been there just a few minutes before or after I would have missed seeing it.

I would not know it then...but that week was probably the last week the White Musso will ever get to the clinic.  Valerie got home on Friday with a maxed out heat gauge...we already replaced the head gasket, and this time it looks to be the head itself.  With parts becoming rarer on those trucks (which is why we sold the green and were trying to sell the white), this could be a time consuming and/or difficult proposition.

What started as thinking was a blessing winning it at the auction has become a nightmare.  At this point I think we are going to stop throwing good money after bad and sell it as is for parts.  What we will do for a second vehicle long term we are stopping, praying, and waiting right now, and I will be borrowing the mission's White Ford when I need to do errands.  Fundraising to get another vehicle right now seems like a long shot...thus the need to stop and just pray for a bit.

From one white vehicle to another, I saw a Lada Niva 1600 at the grocery store.  These illustrate that while Honduras is famous as Toyota country (as well as Nissan and...ok, generally Japanese automaker territory) there is a history here for other odd brands, whether imported officially or not.  Our Musso used to be sold here and had a distributor for parts.  Now that dealer closed, and so did the parts network.  If you need parts now, there are some aftermarket filters and the like available, otherwise parts are scavaged from wrecked units or sourced via the internet.  One of the parts for the White Musso, the 4x4 module that electronically makes everything work...we were originally going to have to see if available from Latvia or Estonia.  

Ironic I thought, since the Lada brand comes from the old USSR...were generally panned, and yet are still being made, and while I am not sure about Honduras, are still being exported, and parts are...somewhat...available.  .

Expensive lesson learned I learned through this very long experience?  In the future when it comes to buying vehicles in Honduras (anything but huge Ford sized pickups) if you want parts availability and to be able to drive something reliable for 20 a Toyota.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Getting stuff into the field

Part of the inventory control process we have been going through for two years with Justin Clark's invaluable help, has been saving what needs to be saved for long term use, and getting everything organized to then get everything out that does not need to be saved.

He and Jorge filled the garage full of things that were either in disrepair, brand new and not needed for long term storage, or used but no longer needed.  We opened up the garage to the pastors to see what they could use in the Churches or personally, or distribute.  This is just one truck load's worth of many truck loads that they were able to take.  

FAME sent us some PET devices, made especially for people that cannot walk, but where wheelchairs would not be a practical solution.  (PET stands for Personal Energy Transportation I believe...the device works like a bike, but you pedal with your hands.  Unfortunately, in many places in Honduras even these are not very practical since we have so many hills. 

That makes distributing them somewhat problematic...not often do we get requests for them.  We had three, and during this cleaning and sorting process, we decided to put them out there in the garage to see if there would be any interest.  Jose Luis took them back with him in his mission Land Cruiser to Talanga, and in an extremely short period of time announcing he had them via our channel 15 TV station there, they all found new homes!  Talanga is relatively flat (well, for Honduras especially), but roads are still dirt and rock, and most of the city has no sidewalks, so these PETs should be a huge help to these families...

I did not get this gentleman's name, but he got the adult version we had.  He was in an accident and is now paralyzed from the waist down.

PETs are sometimes used by adults in cases like these not only to be able to just leave their homes, but as messengers or transporting things if in a ciy...a way for them to still work.

This is Carmen, she has polio, a disease I thought had been eradicated, but apparently I was wrong, (she did not get vaccinated.)

I love that her brother is relaxing on the box, and that she is posing for the picture (I have multiple pictures of her...she is smiling/posing in each).   She seems happy and has not even got to see the PET yet!

This is Carlitos, he had to have his leg amputated because of a burn.

Just three examples of things the mission gets to do, ways it gets to help, that were not planned, anticipated, or sought out, as we did not even ask for these PETs...God orchestrated all that to come together through quite a few different people in the US (the people that make them, FAME for warehousing them and then getting them to us, Master Provisions for handling the shipping) and then the His Eyes staff here in Honduras as well.

Thanks be to Him for these efforts, and join us in praying for these families that the PETs might be of use to them, and for ongoing health issues, recovery and perseverance for the future in Him.  

Friday, April 1, 2016

Pray together

We are still doing weekly devotionals together as a leadership.  Once a month when the pastors come, we do a devotion for all of us before they start their teaching, edification, etc. time.  The conference table was full today!

I am happy to see in that area the kitchen cabinets from my grandparent's home.  We had temporarily put them in the man cave for a while, but with that area being cleaned out and organized by Justin and Jorge, it was time to decide if they were going to be mine and go home (where we rent and I do not have space), or donate them once and for all to the mission.  I like their new home...letting go felt sad, but good.  Plus even after all these years when I open them...the smell puts me right back in grandma Esther's kitchen.

Last week I decided that when asking for prayer requests everyone was still a little too timid, so I started to just go around the room and ask everyone for their prayer requests...they have to give at least one.  Seemed like a good idea at the time.  Here is the list to join us in prayer with the pastors also with us:
1.  Jonathan's wife Ana asked for prayers for her brother Saul, his health.
2.  Valerie asked for prayers for her memory
3.  Jose Luis' wife Gladis asked for health prayers for Jose Luis
4.  Jose Luis asked for Esly, a woman that came to Christ yesterday in the Church in Talanga, and for her daughter.  Her daughter is six years old and has had hydrocephalia since then, never got an operation.  For years Esly has been angry with God over her daughter's condition.
5.  Pastor Edwin is asking for prayers for getting an additional job to help financially support his family.
6.  Oscar asked for prayers for the leadership of the Tegucigalpa Church and for the Church itself.
7.  Maria asked for prayer for herself (she almost fainted the other day) and for her daughter Melisa that has recurring health issues from last year that they thought the treatment given had cured, but just found out it did not.
8.  Jonathan asked for prayers for his grandmother for her health and for a visa appointment she has with the US embassy coming up on April 11th
9.  Darwin asked for prayers for health for his grandmother Maria Felicita Ramona
10.Felipe asked for prayers that God would guide the changes in the mission
11.  And since pastor Henry was late in arriving...we asked on his behalf he would be punctual in the future.  

Nudist colony

There is that famous story of the emperor who wore no clothes.  I have been bouncing lately between feeling particularly blessed by God in ways I do not deserve given my behavior, in the direction of the mission and decisions being made, the proverbial arrow on the ground guiding us, etc...and then to looking around after something happens and waiting for someone to shout out..."Hey idiot!  You are not wearing any proverbial clothes!  Your screwed that up, your ideas are crap and so are you!  What, do you live in a nudist colony or something?"

Thankfully, it has not yet happened in an "outside voice", but it is troublesome...and good I suppose.  It is troublesome because I do not want to screw anything up, or have it thought that I actually know what I am doing.  It is good because if I was supremely confident in everything, or even most things...that sort of conceit usually leads to darker places.

Am I the only one that constantly feels like he is a teenager (or younger...I have been blessed to meet quite a few teenagers probably more mature than I) in terms of decision making terms of terms of being anyone worth listening to?  This is no knock on my or parents in general...they did a fine job with the material with which they had to work, but I pale in comparison to what seems to be expected by "society."

Politicians, military leaders, business leaders, etc...those relentless in the pursuit of what they know is the right direction, and I am constantly standing in the crossroad thinking that there are several fine ways to go, or just staying right here would be fine, and yet...I just do not know.  I feel judged by people that I am not sure even exist...for my ministry leadership, family leadership, for how I live as a tall person, a white person, a male person, a fat person, etc.

So I know that this queasiness is is a tether that keeps me running back to my Father, where the real answers are.  Yeah, I know that..but I am a bit tired of staring into the faces of people I know and do not know...and not fulfilling what I am guessing they need/want/demand/question.  Some say I am a scary dude, an angry guy, intimidating, or...gosh, who knows what other bad things, or even good things they might say.  I don't think I am scary, cannot remember the last time I was really angry, and never felt like I have been able to intimidate anyone...I honestly can not remember being able to intimidate anyone ever.

I am more ok living with that now than I was in the past.  At least I think so.  And I can at least see a little outside my own selfishness of the situation thinking...maybe other people have their own stuff going on that has nothing to do with me, or to do with me that I cannot heal/fix/help.

I do not have it all together...there is a solid foundation of faith, but there is also jello, duct tape, and who knows what else.  I am a mess in recovery...fearing a living in a nudist colony.

Am I the only one?

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

All wrapped up in serpentine wire

We had quite the troubling morning.  From my perspective...Cecilia startled me awake at 5:30 that there was something wrong with Sisko (our older cat)  I ran downstairs to find that Valerie had already been trying to help...but was bloody for her effort.  She ended up trying to go to work...but had to get a ride from Justin back home after getting the scratches and deep bites cleaned up.  We are praying for no infections.  
So after seeing briefly her injuries, I went out to find Sisko had his tail quite tangled in several rolls of the serpentine wire, and amongst Valerie's blood was some of his.  I could see his tail was not looking good...I could see skin, blood, blood under his nails, and his breathing not good.  He was moaning, and by this time had fought, hung, scratched, climbed and made quite a mess.   
I was at a loss as to what to do...but quickly realized that hanging off the ladder trying to help...I had to balance freaking out at seeing an animal struggling (an animal I said I did not even care about) and not falling off, risking exposure to bites, scratches, or pokes/scratches/stabs from the wire itself.  Clearly pulling him out was not going to work, the wire was working quite well like a fish it was designed to do.  

The kids were sad/crying, trying to get ready for school.  The cat was wore out...but occasionally freaking out, and Valerie was on the floor trying not to faint.  I was still at a loss as to what to do.  I got my work gloves and the wire cutter I had.  What you should know is that this serpentine wire is not supposed to be easy to cut, and it was not.  I managed to dangle the other end off, and free the five or skills lasso rolls in which his tail was ensnared after quite a bit of effort, and avoiding that he attacked me.  I realized though that to get him down...without further freakouts, would have been pretty dangerous and not likely.  Plus then I would still have to get the wire out from his tail, and had no clue how to do this.

At some point in this stressful, scary, and helplessness inducing affair...I remembered to stop and pray.  I was supposed to be able to take care of these sorts of things, and I could not, and had no clue what to do.

So as I came back inside the house to figure out how to get the kids to school and if Valerie was going to be able to get vertical (over an hour later that seemed like ten minutes)...asking Justin via text for bolt cutters (would I be able to cut the wire...or facing that I would have to cut the end of his tail off...could I even do that?) and wondering what was going to happen?... I see through the curtain a shadow on the window sill outside.  

I went out the back door, incredulously...what was I really seeing?  There was Sisko, no massive bundle of wire hanging from his tail, not freaking out, and still with his tail (minus quite a bit of skin and hair) wanting to come in to lick his wounds.  

I am here to tell you that God answers prayer.  I saw the tail...I saw the metal.  I saw the situation, and saw no rational way it would be easily fixed.  And then, with him sitting on the very metal that was poking him for lack of place to go or way out...there he was sitting on the sill.  I cried because I knew that He was the only way that could happen.  

I share all this though as I had a bit of an epiphany as well standing up on that ladder, hanging off to the side, with the known metal and unknown of an injured cat staring me in the face.  I saw my life in the struggle.  Not that it is that hard or bad...but the struggle of life.  We run around getting into trouble (in this case walking through serpentine wire for no apparent reason, but sometimes through no obvious cause) and we see no way out.  This can be big things or just trying to work very hard to get everything done, to tackle a never decreasing pile of work, etc.  When do we invite God into the situation?  When do we turn it over to Him to fix?  

I have been off Facebook almost completely for over three months.  I have emails that I have not answered, I have things that need done that are not getting done.  I feel like in the past I kept winding myself up in the serpentine wire of life, and was not getting free.  More work, more effort, more paperwork does not solve the big stuff.  (Duh, right?)  And although obviously I have no answer how all of those things, nor higher level answers for the mission will be found...I am a little more at peace leaving things I cannot do undone for someone else to tackle...or be left undone until God brings it to pass.  

All that said...after this relatively minor major problem in the grand scheme of things... I am still shaking a bit of the whole thing...Valerie is on the couch trying to still not pass out or think too much about the whole thing, and deal with the physical pain, and I am sure the kids are having a hard time concentrating at school.  May God give us peace, answers, grace... and some more peace.  

Friday, March 4, 2016

Storming the gates of hell with a water pistol

This post's title I first heard just a few years ago.  I remember exactly where I was sitting, doing a medical brigade in Lepaterique, with a doctor from the US.  He was discussing a particularly difficult case we were seeing, and describing what was available as treatment versus the problem facing us, that was his assessment.  It struck me as how hopeless the situation was, so I suppose the euphemism was effective, although it struck me as being a bit callous or harsh.

After it sank in a bit, I too have used the phrase on a number of occasions, not happily, not with joyous wit, but again with the seeming hopelessness of the circumstances before me.  It sarcastically sums up the situation I guess, and it shows my disdain and somewhat backhanded insult to God whom I am conveniently leaving out of the picture because He is not seen there.

So just today I faced three such situations.  The first being an ongoing situation.  Dr. Darwin has been persuading me of the need for an ambulance for the clinic and community overall.  I am convinced, and submitted a request for funding already to one organization, we shall see what happens.  During the logistical conversations about it, Darwin shared again with me the case of Christian.  Christian was one of the boys that charges money on the buses to make a living.  He was at the buses one day when gang members came to shoot the driver, and he got caught in the fire.  He suffered for quite a long time, and ended up paralyzed.  We have seen him several times in the clinic (they have to find a pickup truck or something else to bring him...thus the conversation about the ambulance) and there is nothing we can do for him long term.

Violence here is all around if you do not have the luxury of being able to ride in a car.  Consequences of that violence abound.  Also though in the clinic I have seen too much of what we also see in brigades of problems just either unsolvable by human hands, or things we cannot touch with the equipment or staff we have.  That is flummoxing, beyond frustrating, and just makes me mad.  Seeing our staff have that reaction on their face in light of that is somehow even more frustrating.   How many times have we had to will never regain your sight, your loved one has in fact died, this  cancer is terminal, and more?

The second came when one of our staff asked if we provided scholarships.  I said no, that is not part of what we do (apart from specific medical scholarships that FAME provides.)  He then shared that he is trying to help his son go to college to study law, which is what his son has a passion for and wants to do to help the country, even though here it is a dangerous profession.  His son is industrious, studious, and a great say I let alone his proud father.  He wants his children to get ahead in life, to be professionals, something he was not able to do.  However his salary does not give him that flexibility to just be able to make that happen, and school loans here are not exactly a possibility.  So His Eyes does not do such scholarships, easy peasy, sorry for you, nothing I can do.  So although we are able to give him a job, and that is great, it is not enough to help him help his son go to school, which we would love to see happen.  So...why exactly am I here, just to continually give people bad news that with everything else we do, I cannot help you in your legitimate, great possibility of a need?   We already have too much going on many people say, and yet with all that we cannot meet the needs ever present.

The third came in our devotional time today.  There is a boy near the clinic that used to be part of the Milk Project.  They had to ask him to leave because of very disruptive hyperactivity, probably as a cry for attention due to family problems.  His uncle had abused him.  This complicated situation started several years ago.  Now he is eight years old.  Via the clinic we heard that he was on his way to practice soccer and was caught on the road and raped.  He spent several days in the hospital.  Darwin was lamenting the situation in total, and that he was not in the Milk Project.

We are working to see if he can be part of the Milk Project again (as long as he can behave...we do not have the staff to be able to handle him one on one) but obviously, as great as the project is, and all that Maria does to be available to the kids, to hear their many and vast problems and dry their tears on a regular basis, this is something beyond what we can really handle.  We also know that the government is looking for him and his mother, to potentially remove him from her care.  And with the government child protective services in disarray recently (the former organization was simply dissolved) that casts another pall on the situation that was already bad before (I have talked with women that have come out of government homes that have said they would recommend leaving children in bad situations at home rather than going to that even worse situation.)

I had to sit in the devotion hearing the questions...and I had no good answers.  We can (and now have in this case) reach out to ministries that handle more those types of cases and have homes to remove such boys from such situations for advice or potential involvement, but it is not so easy even then...perhaps harder.  Dr. Darwin said this morning, in despair and sorrow for this boy whose name I am omitting on purpose, "what are we going to do for him?"  He comes to the clinic to talk with the staff because...he has no where else to go, with whom he can share or feels trust.  And as he figuratively looks to me to answer that question...I feel like I am holding the proverbial water pistol, sheepishly looking around feeling apologetic for my presence as obviously someone else would have an actual answer, or some kind of great fire extinguisher.  

That makes me mad.  It makes me cry.  It makes me think...what if that were my child?  It makes me want to yell to God "THAT'S NOT RIGHT!"  "THAT'S NOT FAIR!"  Logical me steps in and you really want what is fair?  Of course it is not right...this is a broken world...

Ugh.  I feel ugly, small, and worthless, lacking in intelligence and just simply not up to the task.  Again, on a logical level...I know that is absolutely all correct.  That the problems, solutions, and everything in between are in fact quite God sized, and that does not change no matter where you are, and that it is all precisely there to remind me that we are in fact dependent on God.

The problem is that while God in fact has already won victory over Satan in Christ, that ultimately He is the fire extinguisher, sometimes all I can see, in my pettiness, my limited perspective timing... is myself, standing with a water pistol, and the flames raging.  What selfish ego, what deluded short sightedness, what gaul.

I have no pretty bow with which to tie this post up, not that I despair to the point of no hope, I do know in me where true hope resides ultimately...this is just an honest sharing of my inner struggle, or at least three of the struggles of today.  I simply wonder if this is what Charles Schultz had in mind when he had his most famous character utter the words...good grief.  

Friday, February 19, 2016


During our weekly devotion time, we sing a few songs before we start.  Last Friday as I sat down with the music (most of which that Valerie had from her playing days at ICCC, some of which are now considered the classics) I had a flashback to my first short term group experiences.

This is where I would get all sappy and spiritual...if I were a good missionary.  But me being me...I am reminded of the excellent guitar player that was in our teams, and the leading of songs after supper, for devotion time...before we were allowed to play Rook until the wee hours.  How I disliked those times.  His playing was great, the singing was fine for group sings...but my heart was not in it whatsoever.  I even escaped to the bedroom a few times as I recall so much I found the experience so unsatisfying.

Now I enjoy playing, and play at Church once a month or so as well as helping lead the Friday times.  Maybe playing is more enjoyable and the songs more familiar now, and maybe with a bit more practice...could I have actually grown or matured just a little bit?

The idea of maturity or growth, that I am somehow improved at all from the depravity I once was, is hard for me to believe or remember, and has been tugging at me quite a bit lately.

My sin and old man follow me longer and darker than my shadow.  I was reminded today through some thoughtful conversation that I am not alone in this warped way of thinking (is it not interesting to see time and again how comforting it is to just know you are not alone? have someone share their struggle and not have to judge or try to have an answer, but just commiserate?)

Being humble is good, giving glory to God in all things is good.  But instead of focusing on the long dark shadow and how we literally always fall about looking to the shining light in front of us, or where our feet are now?  Perfection is always in front of us and not attainable, but where we strive to move forward.

Nothing we do can satisfy, nothing we do or did makes us any more worthy, and our failures and shortcomings only solidify our place in this world as fallen, but with hope from He who shines the light of truth into and onto our miserable lives with love, mercy and grace.

I can know that...I can feel that...but not all the time at the same time.  

I cannot hold a candle to what I see on social media...or probably what people think I am from my rosy social media profile as well.  (partially why I have been greatly removed from some of that lately)

Nor can I compare gifts, abilities, or just differences to what I do and smack my head for being like other people.  Valerie parks the Land Cruiser front first...and then has to back out blind.  Too dangerous for my blood.  How does she do it?

Can I not just try to do what I am supposed to do, instead of worrying about comparisons, or living up to an ideal or model to which I am not perhaps called?

Like Job answering God in Job 42...answers are often few, reasons are not always understood, and the complexities of living well, living right, living in love, are so much more than platitudes as to seemingly exasperate sometimes in living in the gray areas of their limits.

Valerie's devotion for us this morning was from I Corinthians 13 (and to further incriminate myself and unburden a bit of my shadow with the purpose of self was the first time I read from the Bible this week) and it turned what I always heard as the wedding chapter on its ear as a way we are called to live, this is not a sappy portion of scripture to simply smile and recite.

The version I have in Spanish says among other things that love is suffering, it is benign (merciful)...that love does not delight in injustice but recreates in truth.  Love suffers all, believes all, waits for all, and puts up with everything.

In is not easy, and living it should be expected to be so.  It brings great joy, but also great testing and strife.   Accepting that, living that...requires growth.  And what is frightening sometimes is that true growth often hurts.  And according to Paul, while love is the greatest among faith and hope...that means sometimes love hurts (although hopefully not exactly in the context the famous song describes.)  What is even scarier than that though is the alternative that true love encounters...and how easily attractive, deceptive and destructive ultimately that can be.  

Thursday, February 11, 2016

Highs and Lows

Life has highs and lows, ebbs and tides, all that cliché stuff.  So will this post. 

Not sure we will ever be able to afford to have such lovely grass here, but it sure was cool to see it in person and get to sit and even look up at the sky while on my back from it.  This is primo grade artificial grass.  It looked so real when we very accidently stumbled upon it, that I had to touch it to make sure it was not real.  This was on the fourth floor of a building.  I searched for a while to see how it drains, but could not find out how...all I know is that it was a very rare treat here.  No bugs to worry about as well.  Ahhh

Oscar and his family left for Costa Rica last week, it is a long story, but his 80 year old father was facing a trial for something he did not do...there was even proof, but also a motivated witness to say otherwise.  He wrote me today to say that he will serve 12 years in jail.  They do not expect him to handle being cooped up is very likely the last time Oscar or his family will see him alive.  

We have been on the lookout for a new Ford to add to the group and material hauling fleet for many months now.  We had some generous offers of help, but nothing seemed to come together in terms of price combined with what we need (four doors, long bed, 4x4, diesel, not too fancy, etc.) which is somewhat of a rare combination all told.

We wrote our friends at T&T Repairables that helped us tremendously when we bought the 2012 gray Ford, and knowing we had a budget and a wish list...they found this beautiful 2015 with only 26k miles.  Well, it will be beautiful. Most of that will buff right out.  Being wrecked though will save us thousands of dollars versus buying new or on the open market, and worked out very well for us in the 2012.  It should arrive after repairs for the rocker, doors and bed (cheaper there...can you believe it?  These guys really are good) hopefully in April or May.  That solves one vehicle problem for the mission at least!

The Land Cruiser that Jonathan was using does not look too worse for wear after being flipped on its side.  We are in for about $1,000 in repairs, which might cover us, or after some further road/safety testing might require another $1,000, we shall see once we drive it.  Jonathan in the mean time is using the ol' Blue Ford (which we are trying to sell at the same time)

No pictures from the trip to the hospital with the group that was here, I always get wrapped up and busy and forget. It was a small group, so we were fortunate to be able to even get through one ward...orthopedics.  I had never seen so many children hit or run over by cars, motorcycles and buses in prior trips.  There were some real troopers there, tough kids really pulling through, and then also a few mothers that were in tears by the time we were done...and one mother that swears she knows me from previous visits, and that I had even been to her home (she even knew my name?!) but that I could not place or even remember ever being in her neck of the woods.  I told her all gringos look alike.  Being silly, stupid, and just goofy for a few hours for the kids is a high and a low for me every time...I feel so useless, I feel so needed, I feel like such a ridiculous nonsensical goofball, I feel like we should have stayed all day, and I feel like we could not have stayed any longer.  

This stare I get frequently can be a high and a low.  Usually it is from smaller sized humans, but it does vary, although adults are a bit more coy...sometimes.  

Being stared at when you attractive is probably ok sometimes, but when you know that is not an option, and you are an introvert, it can be a problem opportunity, such as to improve one's people skills.  

I am told it is not necessarily for being a gringo...but rather a combination of oddities:  color, height, shaved head, general bulk and other ogre like features, as those of the haired, shorter, smaller stature folks

The zika virus is doing something that dengue and chikungunya never did...actually promoting bug zappers.  This is a low of course for the country the need for these things because of this new virus and its dangers.  The number of cases and such is concerning, but in terms of hospitalization and such it is lower than dengue...the more concerning part is of course the birth defects.  So much is unknown right now, it is hard to tell what will happen.  Operations to ramp up spraying for mosquitoes and eliminating standing water are also ramping up even more than normal.  When governments are asking in some places for women to not get pregnant, you know it is serious.  

So far though we are not seeing numbers in the clinic or any of our staff affected, but it will be a prayer concern here...and the entire continent for some time.  

Ending on a high...our high temperatures here have been quite low for us lately, a nice "winter" for us to enjoy.  Lows not quite to the high 40s here...but further up the hill probably.  Nice for us that have blankets and can close our windows...not fun at all for those however that do not have those options.  Highs at 70 or so are great...but high winds knocking down signs and terrorizing roofs bringing them low...well, you get the idea.  

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Milk Project news

Maria scheduled a parent meeting before the Milk Project got started this year.  They talked about rules, what is expected (coming on time, being in communication, not missing days, rules of behavior, etc.) and I asked how the turnout was.  She said at least one parent/guardian of every child in the program was there.  I was impressed.  It is our goal to help children and their families that are invested and really care, but I suppose I was still surprised to hear that there was 100% participation.

I am also continually impressed at Maria's ability to display love, while at the same time maintain order and discipline.  That is not an easy line to walk...or at least so I have found.

Maria did a devotional last week, part of that was sharing that many times the hyper-activeness people see when visiting the project masks bigger problems that the kids have difficulty sharing or expressing.  Some of those are just parts of growing up in Honduras, some are emotional/physical family problems, and I am not sure why, but what surprised me the most were the kids that are learning about God here, and then either cannot go to Church with their families, or are required to go to services and participate in activities they know are not in line with what the Bible teaches.  Honor your father and your mother, balancing that with honoring God, and the fact that you are a small child, faced with various punishments if you balk.

This year we were able to give every child a backpack, school supplies, and uniform appropriate shoes to start the school year (Honduran public schools run from February to November).  Some of those were graciously donated to the ministry, and some we were able to buy saving up one time donations over the past several months.

Helping the kids in their education is something we are not equipped to do well on a regular basis right now, but is an area in the future I would love to see how God might change that.

There was also a donation Justin brought back with him in January that we just recently distributed....clothes.  These came from a sewing ministry at his Church.  Maria sorted all the clothing and made bundles for each child.

I thought this picture she snapped summed up the reactions I saw pretty well...happy, wanting to try them on right away, and then of course kids being kids, being goofy.

I look forward to 2016 in the Milk Project...but even more excited for the possibilities for the future and how we can use this project as an influence for good and change in the young, and adult lives, that are being impacted.  It is already good...but I can see a future that only gets even better and deeper. Construction on the new building is continuing this year (with the donations we have in hand, working over the next six months or so we should be able to get to the first floor being done) and while change and growth can be scary (we have 25 children on a waiting list that we want to include when we can get enough sponsors), it is all only possible by God's grace, inspired leaders and volunteers here, and great prayer warriors and supporters in general.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Talanga health day

We have a team from Bring Good News here this week.  A much smaller team that the mission normally allows, but it is with good reason.  We are trying out a new method/style of using medical teams.  Typically in the past we would go into a community building (hopefully a Church if there is one) and see as many patients as we could will trying to give good care, providing some education along the way.  (that is the shortened, very much condensed version.)  With this team we are doing something different...

We are limiting the number of people that can come to 50, with the Church handing out invitations.  Then we start with a brief Church service of about 45 minutes to an hour, and after that another hour and a half of health topic teaching times.  This trip we are doing topics like diabetes/hypertension, Zika/Dengue/Chikungunya, respiratory ailments (bronchitis/colds/asthma/allergies), and medicine safety.  We all have lunch together (an added expense, but worth it) and then we see all the patients...similarly to past brigades in some ways.  In this particular case though are doctors and pharmacy staff are mostly the staff from our clinic in Tegucigalpa (Dr. Darwin, the clinic administrator and his wife Sandra who is a pediatrician volunteered to come as well, plus Indira the pharmacist, and Johana one of the nurses.)  

Part of the discussion is about making good lifestyle choices, to prevent and help treat many of the above mentioned ailments as much as possible at home.  We had several patients with questions related to what we were talking about, some good interaction, and then during the brigade time found a woman having an episode who turned out to have a blood sugar of over 400.  She was moved close to the fan, given water, and some attention.  After she finished her water and before the group could get her more we noticed her friend stopped by to help her recover as giving her some Coke.  So although the information given out was successful...we still have a ways to go.  You can be sure that story will be shared with everyone in the remaining health days!

In other picture posting news related to our visit, the Church in Talanga continues to make progress on some of the physical sides of things, raising some money for some much needed signs, first for the TV station, and also for the sanctuary.  Since completing the wall last year, no more break ins have happened, so it is doing its job!
Be praying for the TV station if you would.  It was purchased and developed to try to help the Church be self supporting in being able to pay a pastor full time.  The spiritual outreach it has is much broader and wider reaching than we originally dreamed, but still so far it is not self supporting or able to help support the pastor/station administrator.  It does cover quite a few day to day costs, but still requires mission support to stay running.  If we cannot turn that corner soon, we may be forced to sell the station.  That would be a hard decision for sure.