Renewing My Mind

When I woke up at 5am, I had already decided my mood for that day.  I wish I could give you some fantastic missionary answer and tell you that despite my circumstances, I had chose joy… but I hadn’t.  I was irritated.  My face burned hot with anger, a trait that I unfortunately inherited honest from my Dad.

The night before, a transformer had blown, leaving our house and many others without power or water.  The nighttime temps of course were in the 90’s, the air was still, and mosquitos kept zipping in through the windows and persistently buzzing around my face. I covered myself up with the sheet and got hot.  When I’d uncover myself, the mosquitos went into attack mode on my arms and legs.  Have you ever tried to sleep when you’re frustrated?  It’s a vicious cycle of being angry that you can’t sleep, and not sleeping because you’re too angry to do so.

I learned in the morning that my frustration could become a vicious cycle too.  When I got ready, I carried my frustration to me into work.  I was tired, sweaty, covered in bug bites, I clearly had gotten ready in the dark, and I somehow managed to sit in a puddle of cat urine on one of the outdoor couches. I hate cats.  At this point, my attitude was as ripe as my odor.  Everything stunk.

It wasn’t until I pulled up the demographics of the baby we were going to get that I realized what an ungrateful piece of work I had presented myself as that morning.  You would think that I live a life of 24/7 gratitude when you see the things I see on a daily basis. I love where I’m at, I love what I do, and I’m thankful we have air conditioning..  but it’s amazing how quickly I unraveled after a night without electricity and water.

We were heading to a really remote village La Ceiba in the mountains of Camotan to pick up a baby in a village that I’d visited many times before.

“Did you notice where we’re going?”  Alfredo had asked me. I shook my head yes.
“How about the baby’s last name?” I opened the message with the baby’s demographics.
“He has the last name as Valentin,” I responded. It was then that I found out we were traveling to pick up the nephew of one of my patients.

I sunk back into the seat of the ambulance realizing that I couldn’t carry my ungrateful attitude back into the same house I had visited before.  I opened a blog post that I had written the day Valentin passed away.  (click to read previous blog)

“Be grateful in ALL things, not just the easy things.”

The words in bold I had written that day were both salt and salve to my wound.  It burned, knowing how I had acted like a petulant child that morning.  It healed me, knowing that The Lord had provided me this 2+ hour long journey to pull myself back together. I bowed my head and prayed as hot tears welled up in my eyes.  “Lord, I know it’s only 7AM and I have acted a complete fool.  Please let me honor Valentin and honor you in how I carry myself today.”

When we arrived to the small house made of palm fronds, sticks, and plastic tarp, we were greeted by the same brother and sister in law who had presented Valentin to us.  Only this time, we were there for their malnourished son.  We all started crying as we reminisced Valentin’s earthly body.  Though very sick for the last few years of his life, Valentin carried on a legacy of joy and great faith through every one he ever met.  He never complained– despite years spent in severe poverty, severe sickness, and severe pain.

The Roque family — Valentin’s brother and sister in law and baby Victor. He is 2 years old and showing signs of moderate to severe malnutrition.

Could I ever be like Valentin?  Could I ever be full of joy despite my circumstances and surroundings?

Romans 12:2 says “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is–his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

Renewing of your mind.  As I sat in the back of the ambulance, holding Valentin’s sick nephew, I realized how things truly come full circle.  I pray that my mind is constantly renewed with joy, with gratefulness, and with patience.  That even when I’m exhausted and covered in dirt, bug bites, and dry cat pee, that I don’t allow negativity to creep in.  How dare I even for one second have the right to be frustrated, knowing later that day I would be face to face with a family that lost their young brother and was now struggling to provide for their malnourished baby.  May we never forget the blessings in our lives.  I pray my mind is renewed and the overflow is thankfulness, even, and especially, on the hard days.

What are you thankful for today?
-Whit

Yours are the feet

“Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are His body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”
― Teresa of Ávila

Exactly 1 year and 10 months ago, I hiked hours into the Guatemalan mountains with two Guatemalan men to bring back Valentin.  The day would prove to be difficult, as we had to cut down a tree and tie a hammock to each end of it just to carry him back up the mountain to the ambulance.  At 27 years old, he didn’t weigh but 40 pounds.  But 40 pounds became very heavy for the three of us during our uphill journey.

We were greeted by his brother and pregnant sister in law at the door.  They had tears in their eyes as they pulled back a plastic tarp to reveal what was inside.  Valentin was critically sick.  He was lying on the dirt floor, burning with fever and reeking of infection.  When he saw me, he smiled.  He explained to me how he had fallen ill a couple of months ago.  He could no longer stand, and infection spilled out from a hole in his abdomen that fistula’d through to his bladder.  He was pitiful, but you could see the determination in his eyes and the joy in his smile.  When it came time to move him to a hammock so he could be transported, he winced and cried in pain.  When I apologised, he smiled and said “It’s okay, Whitney.  I’m just happy you’re here to help.”

To be honest, I was happy to be there to help too…. until about 10 minutes into our journey back.  It was hot, he was heavy, and I was already exhausted.  “Just about an hour and a half to go,” I tried to reassure myself.  But that was difficult to do when the two hours that had elapsed in my head ended up being only 10 minutes in reality.

Had I known then what I know now, I would have done a lot less internal complaining on that journey up the mountain.  I would have sucked it up.  I would have disregarded my fatigue and carried Valentin with honor and pride.

Valentin was rescued February 7, 2016 on my oldest niece Kayleigh’s birthday.  He turned 28 that following week on Valentine’s day.  Today, he took his last breath.  With his last breath, he also took a huge part of my heart with him.  Anyone that has ever visited here knows he was my little buddy.  He had a rough life– traveling to Guatemala City (a 3-6 hour trip one way) three times weekly for hemodialysis. Sunday’s I would wake up early to go pick him up for church and we would end the mornings eating lime cucos.  I’m really going to miss him.

I don’t have a lot of words to say to adequately express how I’m feeling.  Valentin became like a little brother to me (even though he was actually older than me)…  we would read the Bible together, we would joke around, and he was always such a kind and gentle soul to anyone he ever met. To know Valentin was to love him, and he left an impression on everyone he met.  It’s miraculous that he ever survived that first week to make it to his 28th birthday, but I had the joy of knowing him for exactly 1 year and 10 months longer than expected.

My soul rests in knowing where he is now.  I am thankful for Jesus Christ’s promise of salvation.  But in this moment, the world seems a little less colorful without Valentin in it.  Oh, but his legacy will carry on in every part of my life.  I will always think about him when I read the book of Philippians, whenever I eat a lime cucos, whenever I sit on the green couches at the hospital and watch the sun setting over the trees, whenever I go on a difficult rescue and forget to be grateful in ALL things and not just the easy things.

Valentin, thank you for letting me be the feet of Jesus just for a moment when we carried you up the mountain.  I pray for the time that we had you as a patient that you felt cared for and significant, because you very much were.  I still carry you, only now it’s in my heart…  and the weight of it now sure does feel a lot heavier than the 40 pound boy I once knew.

Forever proud of his strength, his joy, his patience, and his drive. A boy that had a terrible prognosis spent a year and 10 months overcoming odds, learning to walk again, and adjusting to the difficulties of hemodialysis.  You sure did make me proud, Valentin.
I will forever cherish memories of your birthdays, reading the Bible, and giving you “chilero haircuts, como Bryan”

We love you forever, Valentin.
Whitney & Bryan
Dec. 7, 2017