Remembering Lisvi~~January 30, 2026

Seventeen years ago today (is it possible?) I met a little girl who would change my life forever. 

I was with Dick Rutgers in northern Guatemala, at a wheelchair distribution.  I didn't have much of a role, but was more hanging out than anything. I walked over to a lady with a “baby” on her back. I hesitantly asked if it would be okay for me to hold the “baby.” Mom gently placed her in my arms. 

This was my introduction to Lisvi Escalante Perez, and her mother Francisca. Lisvi, however, is not a baby, but a marvelous little girl of SIX who could not have weighed over fifteen pounds.  As I held this precious little one in my arms, my heart sank to my feet, and tears welled in my eyes. Lisvi will forever “haunt” me. This was not some abstract, starving child in an ad, but a flesh and blood little girl God had permitted me to hold.

It was apparent that this little one needed so much more than a wheelchair.  We explained to her mother that there was a malnutrition center in Antigua which could help Lisvi.  Dick promised transportation for the family if they wanted to bring Lisvi be checked by the doctors there.

Mom was terrified at the idea, but said she would talk with her husband.  He could not imagine having the daughter he so dearly loved taken from their home and placed so far awasy, but agreed to come with us to investigate options.

I got to spend the next three days walking with their family through this process, and getting as much cuddles in with Lisvi as I could.  We learned that Lisvi was their third child born with severe cerebral palsy, and the two previous sisters had died from malnutrition. 

I could not begin to understand what we were asking them to do. To us, it was just a trip to the hospital. To this family, who had never been out of their area, we are asking them to leap into the unknown. They have never even seen a doctor (except maybe the “healers” in the area), and how could they imagine a hospital. 

As I held Lisvi, I couldn’t help but think of my almost 30 lb., two and a half year old grandson back home. As I prayed over Lisvi, I also prayed in gratitude for Zach’s health which I too often take for granted. And, as I struggle with the contrast between these two precious children, I had to remind myself that God loves each of them unconditionally. His ways are surely not my ways. . 

As the contrast pierced my heart, the injustice of the disparity between the opportunities for thesse two chilren enraged me.  Was Zach more worthy of a good life than this beautiful little girl only by benefit of his birth country?

While the hospital had agreed to admit her, the parents could not bear to 8 hours away from her.  They deeply loved and cared for her.  The next day, Dick drove them home to their village, and they would do the best they could to care for her.  

On the plane ride back to the US, I pondered all I had experienced.  God showed me that Lisvi did not need to meet me. I needed to meet Lisvi. I needed to willingly let my heart be touched, and wounded, and trust that God willed the best for this little one. I learned to pray, "God I want to serve you, but it hurts too much." I learned that when I pray, "God break my heart for what breaks yours," that's exactly what he does.  I  learned to risk letting my heart be touched, knowing it might be broken, but trusting it will heal."

A few months later, I received a call--Lisvi was now in the arms of her Heavenly Father.  What I gave to Lisvi, I don't know.  What she gave to me is beyond measure.  

Reflecting on Simon of Cyrene

Why did God ordain that Simon would be called to help Jesus carry his cross?

Logical answer, Jesus was too weak to carry it himself because of all he had endured the previous night.

On a deeper level, I believe God ordained this and included it in each of the four gospels to teach us. I believe we are each called to carry the cross with Jesus as well as carry our own cross.

How do we do this?  Just by accepting the suffering and pain that comes into our lives?  Or is there more to it than this passive response to Christ's command?

I believe we need to intentionally share the burden of Christ's cross by voluntarily sharing in the suffering of those around us.  We can't bear everyone's pain, but, just as Simon was called to uniquely share the suffering of Jesus, I believe God calls each of us to uniquely and deliberately share in the pain of specific individuals or groups suffering in our midst.

Will I do this willingly, or will I resist?  We so easily say, "God, break my heart for what breaks yours." How do we respond when he shows us a particular misery that breaks his heart?  Will I let Him break my heart, or will I protect it from pain?  Will I surrender to being broken by bearing my brother's burden and in doing so fulfill the law of Christ? 

Am I doing what I say I believe?

My journey to Guatemala led me to the hospital/orphanage dedicated to Hermano Pedro.  I learned this story of a simple, humble Fransican monk for whom the orphanage was named.  Born in Spain, he emigrated to Guatemala in the early 1600's. After studying, without success, to be a priest, he became a Fransican brother. 

Known as the "St. Francis of the Americas", Hermano Pedro had a love for those who were ignored and abandoned by society. This included the poor, the homeless, the imprisoned, and the disabled.  While not "smart enough" to master the theology required for the priesthood, Hermano Pedro was a master at the theology of living out what he believed.  He began a hospital, convalescent home, school for the poor, and spent his life serving Jesus who he saw in the least of these.

Hermano Pedro is a constant challenge to me.  I tend toward the intellectual, spending years investigating Scripture and the "right theology" I found there.  Moving to Guatemala, that's been all well and good.  The people we serve, though, could care less about theology.  

Our residents and those we serve have challenged me to look less at orthodox concepts and ideas about God (right thinking).  They need and want to know Jesus, to know who He is and why knowing him matters.  They seek more than words.  They need to actually meet him.

I have learned here, that my love must be shown before anyone will listen to my ideas.  Many have heard the Sunday school lessons, or the catechism about him.  Few of those we serve, though, have experienced his love in action.

That is the challenge Hermano Pedro sets before me.  It is not really a challenge from him, but from the Jesus who came poor, humble and rejected by his society.  Am I willing to live out daily, what I believe?  Concretely in action, not just in words.

Each day this looks different.  Some days it is helping a child with autism learn to communicate.  Other days it is teaching a mentally challenged child to read.  It might be giving a sandwich to the homeless man who come to my door.  Maybe it even looks like taking time to treat the market vendor as a person with dignity, not just a functionary who I am forced to deal with.

This is the challenge of Hermano Pedro and the Jesus he followed.  Am I doing what I say I believe?  Am I serving my Jesus in the least of these, treating them with dignity and respect, not pity and "charity"?  Am I walking the talk?

This is my challenge, and yours.  How are we doing?

I could never do that. . .

 This is such a common phrase spoken by many Christians.  At times it is said in judgment of a person who has fallen short in some way--usually one of the "big" sins like adultry, child abuse, abortion.  It may be smaller sins though, like smoking or drinking, or stealing a pack of gum.  Whatever it is, when we say this we are elevating ourselves above the person being judged.

Other times it is said in admiration, "I could never do what you do.  I'm too ________________." Fill in the blank: weak, tender-hearted, attached to my children, etc.  This is the one I hear too often directed toward me and I grieve for the person each time the say it.

To me, it reflects a lack of understanding of God's will in our lives.  What the person, hopefully, really means to say is, "I don't want God to ask me to what you do." That I'm okay with.  There are many things I don't want God to ask me to do, and I've told him so.    Very often the things God asks of me are these very things I dread.

 And in surrendering to these things, like being divorce, or leaving behind grandchild to grow up in my absence.  In holding my desires and dreads with open hands, I have experienced the presence of God in ways I never would have imagine. What seems like loss, has become gain.  God is faithful when we are obedient.

The next time you are tempted to say, "I could never. . ." stop and ask yourself what is really behind this statement.  Henri Nouwen has wisely said, "We are not judged by how we compare to others, but how we conform to the will of God."

Don't use this attitude to put down or elevate anyone.  We are all given different callings, When we obey we are enabled, equipped and empowered to  carry out the callings with peace and joy.  Don't limit yourself, or your God, and wait and see what happens.  You might not believe it!

San Pedro is so different. . .

It's Palm Sunday.  Once again I am struck by how different San Pedro, where the men and I live, is from Antigua.  Nothing is more striking than the differences I see during Holy Week.  The activities in San Pedro grow out of faith, while those in Antigua seem to come from a delight in pagentry.

Yes, we have processions.  In fact, they pass in front of both my house and Casa de Esperanza.  But they are strikingly different from those I have seen, and come to dread, in Antigua. (I just realized that, since I moved to San Pedro, this is the first year we are freely remembering Holy Week.  Activities in the three previous years had by greatly limited by Covid.  Perhaps that is why they have struck me so deeply this year.)

These processions are not done for tourists--we have none. 

The alfombras (carpets make of sawdust and other vegetation remembering the palms Jesus rode over entering Jerusalem) are so much simpler, mostly done by families in the early hours of the morning.They are not done for show, as most participate, rather than watching like I do.  

The participants, for the most part, are my neighbors, not adorned in purple robes (though some are) but mostly in street clothes.  The leaders of the processions belong to confraternities (parachurch organizations), and some do contribute for the privilege of participating, but it is not a requirement here.  The only requirement is the desire to honor the sacrifice of Jesus.

While it is true that some believe they are doing penance, paying for their sins, by carring the andas ("floats") with statues, many I have spoken to participate in gratitude for the sacrifice of Christ on the cross.  Publically proclaiming that they want to follow him.  

While doctrinal differences divide the Catholics and Evangelicals here, I think we have much to learn from each other.  

The Catholics can teach us much about the price paid to repair our broken relationship with God.  

I fear that too often we have made salvation dependent on nothing more than saying a prayer.  I see this with mission teams that lead folks in a sinners prayer, but do nothing more to teach them about the Jesus they have supposedly asked "into their heart".  Little, if anything, is done to assure that they have had a change of heart, not just said some words.  Most times, nothing is done to teach them to follow Jesus.  Too often they are converted but never discipled. 

As Evangelical, I am concerned that inadvertently we have, in many ways cheapened the sacrifice of Jesus, by focusing on OUR individual salvation, when in reality it isn't about us at all.  It's about our willingness to be disciples and live as he did, not about what doctrine we follow or dogmas we cling to.  It is not just about our "eternal security" of going to heaven, but about the charge which Jesus left us to make the Kingdom of Heaven become a reality here on earth, as was God's intention in creation.

Even the andas carrying Mary do not offend me as they once did.  (BTW, here in San Pedro, Mary follows Jesus, and the "float" is much smaller and the processional simpler.)  These portrayals of Mary always focus on her sorrow as she watched Jesus suffer and die for us.  It reminds us of her faithful presence with him.  Seeing this can provoke our own sorrow in recognizing the price paid to reconcile us to God.  Too often, I fear, we pass over Good Friday in our hurry to get to Resurrection Sunday.

So I ask you this year, as we prepare to celebrate the greatest "overcoming" of all time in the Resurrection, to take time this week to focus on the events leading up to it.  Learn from Mary to take some time so "stay with" Jesus,  to watch and pray with him, as he asked the disciples to be with him in Gethsemane.  Open our hearts to feel his struggle, as a man, as he faced his impending death.  To repent from  all the ways in which we do not faithfully follow him, maybe even run from him, that created the need for his death.  To appreciate what it cost Jesus to reunite us with God.  Then we will truly be able to experience the joy of the Resurrection.