Author: Bryan & Whitney Saulton

When our medical director, Dr Oliva, asked if I would accompany two of our patients to a weekend “Diabetic Bootcamp” on the Caribbean shore of eastern Guatemala, I said yes… but there was a lot of trepidation in my response.

Of course I was so excited for the experience the girls would have— their first opportunity to see the east coast, to feel the sand beneath their toes and taste the salty water, to better learn how to manage their diagnosis, and to meet other children learning to live with diabetes. Yolanda and Dulce excitedly packed a few of their belongings into black trash bags.

We would be meeting up with nearly 100 others coming from Guatemala City. As excited as I was for Dulce and Yolanda to meet these other children, I was so very nervous.  You see, the divide between middle class and families in poverty is so staggering, that most Guatemalans who live in the city wouldn’t even believe it. Sure, they had heard of a few cases of families in extreme poverty, but I was about to board a bus full of hundreds of kids with two special needs girls who come from villages that were poorer than poor. Yolanda is deaf and because she was raised in a remote village, she spent most of her life communicating in her own language. Dulce has recently had har vision restored after having surgery to treat complications from diabetic retinopathy, her mother died from diabetic complications. Each girl lives in a mud hut without access to electricity or running water.

I masked my anxiety with a smile as we boarded the bus. “Please let them be nice to us,” I prayed, knowing how ruthless kids are these days.

You could tell immediately how different their lives were compared to Dulce and Yolanda. Boarding the bus I noticed kids wearing name brand clothing, modern hair cuts, playing on iPhones, and their belongings safely packed into patterned suitcases and monogram duffel bags. Ae walked down the aisle of children, Yolanda obliviously plowed through the crowd and lugged her trashbag up onto a rack above the seats, where it almost immediately fell onto the unsuspecting child sitting below it. “I DONT WANT TO SIT WITH YOU, YOU MADE US LATE!” Yolanda signed to me from the back of the bus. We weren’t actually late, we were just the final pickup point, but now was not the time to argue with Yolanda. I loaded Dulce’s trashbag and got the girls settled into seats before finding my own. Would all the other kids notice that my girls only had a couple of outfits and some basic hygiene items in their trash bag? My heart longed for them to find connection, but the reality was that I knew it would be difficult because of their differences.

But wouldn’t you know— I worried about those trash bags far more than I ever needed to. I’m certain the other kids noticed, but nearly all of them chose to overlook the differences and get to know the amazing, sweet girls that Dulce and Yolanda are.  They included the girls in activities, practiced sign language with Yolanda, and listened intently when we found a possum in our cabin and Dulce explained that one time they ate possum in her village to celebrate a big event… “but I’m not sure how many carbohydrates are in possum,” Dulce said, and the room of carb-counting diabetic children burst out laughing at her joke. As much as it warmed my heart watching Dulce and Yolanda experience all these new things, it warmed my heart even more watching all these kids choose kindness and inclusion as they were little living examples of Ephesians 5:1-2.

I wish things like poverty, rejection, and type one diabetes didn’t exist in this world… but I am thankful to know and be known by a Savior who welcomes us with open arms despite what we are bringing aboard in our trash bags. In the middle of this Christmas season, I am so deeply thankful for this truth.

“Jesus entered into this world to love people as they are. The heart of the vision of Jesus is to bring people together, to meet, to engage in dialogue, to love each other. Jesus wants to break down the walls that separate people and groups. How will He do this? He will start by saying to each one, ‘You are important. You are precious.’  —Living Gently in a Violent World

God is good, You are loved, & a very Merry Christmas.

-Whitney 

Here are the most precious pictures of the most precious girls. I am planning to print them each a photo book of their special memories to give them when we return in January. Special thank you to Dra. Maya Serrano, Dr. Edwin Oliva, Carol Duque, and Hope of Life leadership for making this possible. And thank you for entrusting me to take them.💛

In Matthew 4:1-11, we read a story about how Jesus was tested in the wilderness for 40 days.  Not that I’m trying to chalk up my life to that of Jesus, but here on day 39 of 2019, we’ve had our moments of walking through the wilderness, blindfolded, arms open and hearts surrendered and trusting God through some difficult times.

When our sending church from Virginia announced they would be pulling their support at the end of this year, we had to step back and re-evaluate.  “God, is this where you REALLY want us?  Are you SURE?”  In the hurt and confusion of all of this, my mind became darkened with doubt.  I recalled a blog post when I announced our pregnancy.  Just a couple months prior, God was very clear that we were to stay here as we embarked in this new journey.  “Quedar” is the Spanish word.  Stay.  Wait.  Remain.  I had felt peace then, why couldn’t I feel it now?

I was soon to see God’s grace in full blown high-lighter yellow.

Continue reading 40 Days.

I love Christmas. The tree is up and my lights have been hung for weeks now. I started watching Home Alone once October rolled around. I’ve been drinking peppermint hot chocolate and sitting in front of the AC, pretending it’s not still 88° here.  I know… “but what about Thanksgiving!” some will plea. Listen, I love food more than the average person. Snacks is practically my middle name. I married a chef. And let’s not fail to mention that the majority of my tattoos are food related. I will never and could never forget the day we celebrate gluttony and mashed potatoes. I just prefer to stuff my face by the holly jolly glow of Christmas lights. I would truly leave the decorations up year round if I thought they wouldn’t lose their magic and wonder by about month 3.

As we sat in our Sunday evening home church, singing Christmas songs, all felt right in the world. I was belting out the words and really feeling festive until the verse of “O Holy Night” hit me like a two pound bag of potatoes right in the gut.   

“Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains He shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease.”

I guess I had never really paid attention to what it was saying. I suppose I had always sang it out of habit, rushing to get to the better known chorus. But man, what a timely word for the world we live in these days. 

Just a few short weeks ago, a political and socioeconomic crisis caused the mass exodus of somewhere around 5,000 Hondurans that walked right past our house. Women, children and elderly people displaced, and yes, even some men who owned cell phones in the mix. They passed through Guatemala and deeply depended on the generosity of a country whose people are also in dire straits. I watched posts crop up on social media about the notion that this was politically driven. I watched the further exploitation and demonization of poor people… headlines depicting hoards of men, no women or children in site. And these men had cellphones! Life must not be too bad if you can acquire a cellphone!

But on the other end of the spectrum, I watched the real story unfold with my own eyes. Desperate people seeking refuge, and even acquiring some Guatemalans along their journey who also sought help. Men carrying children while allowing the women to board a truck and hitch a ride. While West Virginia celebrated bridge day, I saw beautiful pictures of thrill seekers jumping off the New River Gorge bridge and parachuting to the ground below. At the same time, I was flipping through Guatemalan news articles. People were also jumping off of a bridge here in Guatemala… however, it was children trying to pass through the murky waters of the Mexican border on their journey to refuge. Many of those children were unaware of the depths of the water and were swept away to a watery grave.

It’s confusing to me that some hearts are so hardened that these true stories don’t even affect them. However, if the opinion you have of the gospel of Jesus Christ and how we treat others is influenced by people, by a political agenda, by internet memes, or by anything other than the Bible itself, I beg you to consider that maybe today’s social media Jesus needs new PR.

Please don’t let your crazy Aunt Betty’s hyper patriotism or misdirected fear of what is bad and evil in this world be the bearing on what you call Christianity. I challenge you to look for yourself at who the Jesus of The Bible is- kind, compassionate, forgiving… but also still God- and worthy of our reverence and praise. People (myself included) will always fall miserably short when it comes to searching for an earthly picture of who Jesus was and what He stands for.

I know there’s only so much the US can do to help. That’s why we uprooted ourselves and brought help here. And while you may not be called to do the same, I do believe all of us are called to do SOMETHING… to look upon these types of situations with eyes of compassion and a heart willing to step in and help. Help looks like a lot of things- and as Giving Tuesday approaches us next week, one way you can be effective in helping is by supporting those of us on the frontlines. As we raise our own support, our finances and skills are invested back into the Guatemalan community— helping families to thrive here by empowering them with education, healthcare, and by just loving them where they’re at.

As Kevin McCallister’s mom, Kate, on Home Alone so desperately pleads… “THIS IS CHRISTMAS. THE SEASON OF PERPETUAL HOPE.” I also want to leave you with a final piece of hope…

If the message you’re preaching isn’t GOOD NEWS for every person— every nation, every tribe, every ethnicity, every tongue— then it isn’t the real gospel.

In His name, all oppression shall cease. 💛

You are loved.
Whitney

I will stay should the world by me fold
Lift up Your name as the darkness falls
I will wait and hold fast to Your word
Heart on Your heart and my eyes on Yours

-Hillsong “Stay and Wait”

Ever have a song that just speaks to you during the season you’re in?  This has been my go-to and on repeat for months.

Unlike the song that was actively looping through my mind, this blog post sat dormant and in draft mode for months.  To be honest, I’m still not sure why…  Maybe it was somewhat due to fear– of living in Guatemala and not having access to the best medical care.  Maybe it was due to pressure– the pressure that is placed on all of us to make some sort of grandiose announcement when seasons change in our life– complete with professional pictures to show its perfection.  Maybe it was due to how I so deeply identified with it– as I had also spent years in “draft mode”… warding off the questions from well intentioned friends and family on when the next chapter of our life would begin.

I waited for the perfect words for this moment, almost feeling encumbered by the expectation of others to post something more… But I realized the simplicity of this statement is beautiful and big enough on its own.  We are pregnant.

Continue reading Stay & Wait