I’m sure you’ve heard it said before… and maybe you’ve even reposted the saying, scribbled neatly in modern calligraphy and surrounded by flowers… “Preach the Gospel always. If necessary, use words.”
But can I offer some truth?
Unpopular opinion, I know…
This theology isn’t only inaccurate, but it is dangerous. Words aren’t just necessary, there are absolutely critical in understanding the foundation of the Gospel. Yes, we can strive for our lives to reflect that of our Savior… However, my life’s example will only leave people disappointed and confused. Jesus’ words offer unrelenting truth and consistency in a world desperate for assurance.
We were already out in the mountains when we received a call about a lady named Brenda needing urgent help. Tears immediately flowed when I saw her picture. Because she was an adult, she didn’t meet the demographic to be admitted to St Luke’s, but there was no way we were leaving her where she was.
Being on the frontlines of seeing babies grow and be saved is a high honor that I carry close to my heart. Watching their progress and sharing with others the work The Lord is doing through Hope of Life and the team at St Luke’s is one of my greatest joys. What we see is miraculous. But there is a darker side of my job that I don’t like to speak about very often…
Being on the frontlines also means you are the one there to hear a mother’s horrified crying as you carry her lifeless baby in a silk wrapped burial box. You are there to catch her as she almost collapses into the muddy hillside because grief and sadness have overcome her body… and she shakes as she sobs into your chest… and all the rain that falls cannot drown out the sight of your tears or the sound of her screams. Those moments are literally what nightmares are made of.
Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day and also the International Day of Rural Women.
Could I just combine the two of these days to take a moment to spread awareness of the battle that the women of rural Guatemala face? The rate at which babies are dying in these mountains brings me to my knees.
In the past three days, we have lost three babies. One, I had prayed over for a night. One, I had prayed over for three weeks. And the other, I had prayed for over the past two years.
How deep it must hurt for you to read this post, know that it hurts even deeper for me to write it. To somehow try to formulate words for these traumatic moments, all the while knowing that their stories were beautiful even though the ending was ugly. And even deeper still is the hurt that I see in their mamás eyes and tear soaked faces. Maybe one day I will share their full stories, but today my heart hurts too much to write.
If nothing else— know that these babies didn’t die in vain. My friend Julia Homan said it best… “if this narrative softens the heart of even one towards those who look/talk/believe differently, then their short life will have served a great purpose.” Allow these stories to fuel you with a fire to have compassion for the women in Guatemala. Allow them to break your heart with the understanding that government corruption, violence, and a lack of support have left them without help and without hope… and babies are dying because of it. We cannot turn a blind eye to what is happening here in the Corredor Seco of Guatemala, these babies need our help. We pick up and push on to be harbingers of hope in this dry valley of hurt. And I share their painful stories so that their lives serve a great purpose.
One thing I know for certain, is God weeps when He sees what I’ve seen these past few days. And if you, too, have experienced loss and this day stirs up your emotions as well, He weeps with you too. He is close to the broken hearted. (Psalm 34:18)
Each of these three babies were deeply loved.
You are loved, too.
-Whitney
Erickson was 15 days old and weighed just above 3 pounds. Hope of Life set out for him the moment we heard of his case, but he passed away the next morning in a different hospital. His malnutrition was so severe it had already started shutting down his little body. Baby Rufino was 2 months and only 5 pounds. Along with malnutrition, he was suffering from pneumonia and his body was too weak to fight it despite several weeks of antibiotics and admission into the NICU at Chiquimula. And maybe the most difficult of all was the loss of our sweet Deisy. She gave me so much hope that things would be okay… but a long battle of chronic complications took her from us. She was loved by so many… even by my own mama. Allow each of these images to break your heart… so that these little lives will have served a great purpose.
