Mourn with Those Who Mourn. . .Feb. 5, 2011

We had gotten a call while we were in Huehuetenango last week, that our good friend Ronny (a 17 yr. old with muscular dystrophy) had gone to be with Jesus.  Today was our first chance to visit the family to pay our respects, and I was having difficulty as I considered the trip.  This morning in my prayer time, I journaled:

Today I go to Ronny’s—to comfort his grieving family after his death. How do I bind up the broken hearted? And as I wrote the question, I realized the answer. It is not for me to bind their broken hearts. Jesus said that was HIS mission, not mine. My job is to bring him, tangibly, into the situation. To share His presence by my words and actions. To bring Him through my very presence, because He lives in me. He will do the healing.

Is He already there? For sure. But sometimes in our pain, we need brothers and sisters help us recognize His presence with us. Lord, today, let me see you in my friends, and help them recognize you even in their grief. For you are grieving with them.

 

Even with this insight, though, this was not a trip I was looking forward to.  Dick picked me up with a car load of boys.  He had debated for days who he would take with to this visit.  The boys decided for him.  They were all feeling the loss of Ronny, who they had come to know well over the years. They needed to see his family as much as we did.

Walking into the yard was a painful experience.  Dad grabbed hold of Dick and wept.  Mom grabbed me and sobbed.  I really don't know how long we stood like this, though it felt like forever.  All I could do is pray, "Jesus give me words to speak. . ."  In time, the crying subsided, and I could hear Dick consoling Dad in much the same way I was trying to console Mom.  I had it easier, however, because I did not need a translator.  I realized, though, watching Carlin translate for Dick, that it can be a blessing that Dick needs an interpreter--I think Carlin learned much as he spoke Dick's words for him in Spanish. 

(I later saw evidence of this as Carlin sat with Dad, looking at Ronny's school work, pictures, and even some legal papers. Carlin understands the "ministry of presence" better than many adults. It was beautiful to watch
a teenage do what many adults cannot. . .just be there.)

It seems we both talked a lot about grieving with hope, the knowledge that Ronny is now with Jesus, and the promise that we, as believers, will be reunited with him.  (I just realized, too, that as the boys and Ronny's siblings heard a gospel presentation in the context of real life.  I pray it touches their hearts, those who have not yet decided to follow Jesus.  The cool thing is, it was a natural part of life, not a contrived "evangelistic presentation."  I think those are the most powerful.)





 

We spent a lot of time reassuring the family, especially the other children, that we would be honored to still be part of their lives, as they all, not just Ronny, had become very special to us.  It was only later that we realized the importance of these words.  Carlin told us that Dad had shared with him that Orlindo (7 yrs old) had told him that he was afraid that now that Ronny was gone, Dick wouldn't visit any more.  My heart still hurts at those words. . .and I'm so glad we were able to talk with him about our "next" celebration of good grades.

It was a pleasure to watch the boys as they visited with the family--each one being kind and sensitive to their loss.  It was also good to see how, gradually, the kids all came to life and began riding bikes, playing, and finally trapsing down the road to pick green mangos to eat.  I think that the boys being with us helped the children in the family be children once again, even if only for a short time.

On the way home, we took a "short cut" that went through back roads too beautiful to describe.  Though I had been to Ronny's many times with Dick, he had never taken me this way.  Today was the perfect day to ride through the beauty of creation, even as our hearts were aching.  With the encouragement of the boys, we even stopped to play at a river bank for a while.  After spending much of the day "acting adult" it was good for them to once again have an opportunity to act as teenagers.  And they did--jumping across the river rock by rock, climbing over to the water fall, teasing each other and just laughing and being kids.  Watching them was good for the hearts of the two "older" kids in the group too--though Dick and I didn't venture into the water as they did.

Today was hard, and today blessed us in too many ways to describe.  We had the opportunity to live out Paul's direction, "to laugh with those who laugh, and mourn with those who mourn" (Rom. 12:15) all within the space of a few hours.  If that's not blessing, I don't know what is.

Pat

Esmeralda Feb. 2-3

Since Dick and I will be traveling together, we decided to share journals this week.  Most of the words are mine, and all of the pictures are his.  If you know me, you know I just do "plain Jane" photos and am lucky to get them posted without messing them up.  Thanks, Dick, for sharing your talent with me. ~~Pat

Today we headed up to the mountains near Mexico, to pick up a young lady named Esmeralda.  We are going with her and her family to Guatemala City tomorrow for an appointment with a neurosurgeon friend of Dick and Roland. (Roland works the area around Xela and Guatemala City and finds many families in need of assistance.)

Esmeralda is receiving tutoring from a private teacher through Bethel Ministries, and her condition has been deteriorating as time goes on.  Dick and Roland wanted to rule out any type of a brain tumor or other operable condition, so we decided to bring this family down.  

Each time we do this I wonder, in my self-ishness, if this is a good use of our  (my) time.  And every time we do this, I realize how hard it is for these families to leave their remote villages to trust some unknown doctor in a city they have never visited.  This case was a little different, as Dad had been in the US in the past.  (This man put a whole new face on "illegal immigration for me. . .but that's a whole other article.)  I saw, however, how insecure they all were, and how fearful they were of what they would find out from the doctor and realized, again, the value of the "ministry of moral-support."  The family probably could have figured out how to get to the city, maybe even found a place to stay overnight, but with all the strain they were under, I know we did the right thing by being with them on the trip down.

Since they live a ways outside of Huehuetenango, we decided to drive to Xela and spend the night in a hotel there.  Roland met us for breakfast early Thursday morning, and we drove together to Guatemala City. Our appointment with the neurosurgeon was not until late afternoon, so we had a few hours to kill.  We killed the first finding the building the doctor's office is located in. (Guatemala City is a twist and tangle of one way streets, which always seem to go the wrong direction from where you want to be.)  Actually, we discovered, the building was only a few blocks from Oakland Mall where I've been going to the dentist these past few weeks.  We decided, with all the traffic and confusing streets to leave the car in the parking lot of the doctor's office, and walk to the mall.

I can't imagine what the people thought as they saw what a motely parade we made as we walked single file (the sidewalks are too narrow to do anything else) down the busy street.  A tall gringo with a bushy beard (Dick), followed by a Guatemalan man pushing a little girl in a wheelchair (Esmeralda and her dad), followed by a beautiful woman in traditional Mayan dress (Mom), followed by a more-than-middle-aged gringa (me) and finally, a tall, lanky European with a mass of unruly curly hair.  We really were quite the sight!  Dick figured with all the congestion, no one noticed.  I wonder though. . .

We got to the mall, and it was the first one Esmeralda and her mother had ever visited.  The whole experience, especially the elevator ride, was a little over-whelming to them.  We decided the best thing would be to see a movie while we waited for the appointment, and Yogi Bear (in Spanish) was about to begin.


When we entered the theatre, we discovered that this was another first for Mom and Esmeralda.  As Mom sat down in the folding seat, she was so light it just about swallowed up her tiny body!  It didn't help, either, that Dick was trying to close it on her!  We all got a good laugh about that, and strategically figured out a way for tiny Esmeralda to sit without being "eaten alive" by her chair. 


She and mom looked around wide-eyed at everything in the theater.  Though we had warned her the sound would be very loud, I swear she jumped 2 feet into the air when the previews began.  She adjusted well, though, and was enthralled by the previews.  She was really excited when the movie began, and she and mom giggled like a couple of school girls throughout the feature.  They were more fun to watch than the movie.


The appointment with the neurosurgeon went well.  Dr. Poszuelos donates his time and talents to helping children Roland and Dick find in villages.  Today I witnessed not only his competence, but his compassion as he carefully examined this scared little girl and gently talked with her anxious parents.  He decided he wanted to have an MRI done tomorrow, just to make sure, but thought that her problem was probably genetically based.  Roland will stay with the family tonight in Guatemala City, and help them get the MRI done and return to Dr. Poszuelos with the results tomorrow afternoon.




 




(Dr. Poszuelos spent much time, after a long day of surgery, calling around to find discounts for us for these tests at clinics run by his friends.  This guy is amazing.  We are so blessed to have him willing to help us with the difficult cases!)


It was really hard to say good-bye to them, as they stepped into a taxi with Roland to go to their hotel.  It was good to know, though, that he would care for them well, and let us know the results.


(The tests showed just what the doctor had expected--no organic abnormalities.  Next week Roland will go with the family to the city once again to see a neurologist this time.  We are hoping that an accurate diagnosis might help find a way to slow the progression of her illness.)

Pat

Javier and Cristobal get their "wheels" (Feb. 1, 2011)

Today we are again visiting the orphanage for children with disabilities in Quetzeltenango our first stop on the way to Huehuetenango. According to Dick, this was one of the worst places for kids in all of Guatemala when he first visited it years ago. Now, under the leadership of a very wise and loving Mother Superior and Father Superior, it is a place I would be privileged to work. I hope to be able to spend some time in the future learning from their therapists. It is a joyous place to visit.

We were bringing a wheelchair to Javier, a sweet young man who I had met on my previous visit to the home. A few months ago, Bethel ministries had brought him a power wheelchair. Unfortunately, as so often happens when power chairs are transported on the rough roads of Guatemala, it only worked for one day before quitting. Arturo, in the Bethel shop, had been working on this chair for days, and Dick was anxious to get it to Javier.

"Big man on campus!"

While he had a manual chair he could propel slowly with his feet, this chair really gives Javier freedom to move about the beautiful campus of the orphanage. He came with to show me the grounds which I had not seen on my previous visit.








It is such a beautiful spot, right in the middle of a big city. I really had a hard time tearing myself away when it was time to leave—there is such an atmosphere of peace and joy here.

If you've ever thought a "regular" wheelchair should be enough, check out this video of Javier.

Next stop, Cristobal's. . .

After leaving the orphanage in Xela, we drove up into the mountains to take another power chair to Cristobal (sometimes called Christopher in previous journals), who Dick had met when he was living in the orphanage in Xela. After Cristobal’s dad died, mom took him home again. A couple months ago his chair stopped working, and his brother, trying to be helpful, had dismantled it trying to find the problem. In the end, this made even more work for the guys in the Bethel shop, but they managed to get it working once again.

Mountain "traffic jam"

Cristobal lives in a very remote area, and even with his power chair is unable to attend school. He lives in a part of Guatemala devastated years ago by Hurricane Stan, and in order to get to town, his mother (a very tiny Guatemalan lady) must carry him down a steep path to the nearest road where his chair is stored by some neighbors. He has become just too heavy for her to carry now, and therefore receives tutoring in his home by a tutor supplied by Bethel ministries.

Cristobal's grandfather and sister

We visited with the family in their home, giving Cristobal a chance to show off his school work, and his mom a chance to show us her new grandson. I still marvel at the hospitality with which we are greeted whenever we visit one of our families. Immediately we are given a place to sit down, even if it means the family must borrow a stool from a neighbor. Almost without fail, we are given something to drink. There is never a sense that we are interrupting the family activities, even though we usually show up unannounced. On the contrary, the family is grateful we would make the effort to visit them. I don’t think they have any idea how their friendship blesses us.

While not able to use his power chair for school, his mother still carries him down the mountain to his chair so he can periodically go to town or to church with her. Without his chair, he has been totally isolated in their home. Mom said that just the other day Cristobal was wondering when Dick would be bringing his chair back.

He was eager to see and test out his new chair, and Dick packed him in and out of home on piggyback. Dick earned a lot of respect from me regarding his physical fitness on this trek. I had to stop to rest a number of times the first trip up the mountain, and only climbed half way the second time.

Dick was not only able to make it himself, but with a 17 year old on his back. I’m learning, though, to accept my limits without beating myself up too badly that I physically can’t do all the things I would like to. . .

Each time Dick takes one of these power chairs out of the truck after the rugged trip to these villages, we both hold our breath and pray earnestly that they will work. Today, we also breathed a prayer of gratitude as the chair started up immediately, even though the batteries had fallen off as Dick unloaded it.

I’m learning so much from both Javier and Cristobal about the dignity they receive from the freedom of movement a power chair provides. I’m learning from them how frustrating it is to have to depend on someone else when all you want to do is turn the other direction. I’m learning of their patience in waiting for these chairs, and their excitement and gratitude when they receive them. I’m learning to be grateful, that while I may not be able to physically do all I would like to, I can move independently whenever I feel like it—I am learning from them to be grateful for all I have, and not take the “small” things, like the ability to move, for granted.

Today, Cristobal was a bit disappointed that the chair would not go as fast as he would have like. Looking at the path he was driving, I was amazed that the chair could climb the steep grade. It ended up being good that the chair was slow, since with the dust and sand on the road, it sometimes slipped losing traction. I can understand, though, Cristobal’s desire to race around more freely.

Is it worth traveling miles of difficult roads, often needing four-wheel drive, just to take a chair to a child in a remote village? Dick is the one who does the real work, doing all the driving, and seating the child. You can see on his face, he loves what he is doing. And I love the fact that he lets me tag along with him as he does this.

Ronny Hernandez (December 8, 1993 - February 2, 2011)

Dick wrote:

Ronny Hernandez  (December 8, 1993 - February 2, 2011)

I received a phone call a few nights ago. It was from Ronny's dad. He told me that Ronny who had muscular dystrophy had once again come down with pneumonia. Just 3 months ago Ronny had come down with pneumonia and we were sure that he was not going to make it but he miraculously pulled through. (Link to October 28 journal) Ronny even got healthy enough that he was able to join Pat, his sisters, his brother, Elder and me on a 2 day outing to a hotel near the ocean. (Link to January 4 journal)


Today however I received another phone call from Ronny's dad saying that this morning at 10:30 Ronny had died. I will morn his loss as I have so many other kids that were so close to me who have also died in the past few months.


Goodbye my friend. I will miss you, but I can smile because I know that the next time that I see you I will not have to carry you.

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”  Revelation 21:4

Rony's family was one of the first families I met here in Guatemala.  For a number of years I knew them only through Dick's journals, but a few years ago a team from Westside came down and painted their house.  I got to know his sisters quite well on this trip, and have become very fond of the whole family.  I was glad to be with Dick when we got the news of his passing--somehow it made it easier to handle the news when we were able to share it.  If this is hard for me, I can only imagine how difficult it is for Dick, who thought of Ronnie as a "son." 

The connection with this family is truly a God story--Dick first met Rony in malnutrition at Hermano Pedro, and lost track of him when he went home, leaving his electric wheelchair behind.  Through a series of  "Godincients" Dick found the family, and has been very close to them ever since. 

I grieve for the family, for Dick, and for the way in which I will miss Rony.  I'm not really able to feel too much grief for Rony himself, though.  While I'm sad he left us while he still enjoyed life so much, I know that he is now enjoying more than I can even imagine as he spends his days with Jesus.

That is what the Scriptures mean when they say, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard,and no mind has imaginedwhat God has preparedfor those who love him.” Cor. 2:9

Hermano Pedro

Every year all of the kids From Hermano Pedro that have family are required to go  home with them for a 2 months stay. This week most of the kids that were home with relatives returned to Hermano Pedro.  After spending 2 months with family many of the kids often have a rough time readjusting to institution life.  

This is one of the reasons why both Pat and I decided to spend

most of our time the past few days at Hermano Pedro with the kids.

 

Going out to lunch at Camperos really cheered these 2 up.

 

We only managed take a few kids out to eat but most were content as long as there was someone there to hold them.

Fernando is a natural with the kids.

Since there are nearly 250 residence at Hermano Pedro it is hard to give everyone the attention that they need but taking some of my boys along with me certainly helped fill in the gaps.

Another tremendous blessing is the fact that Daryl and Wanda Fulp and their 9 children have now  moved to Guatemala.

 

Even though they only arrived in Guatemala few days ago and are just starting to get  settled in to their new home, their entire family  has already managed to spend 2 days loving on the kids at the orphanage.

 

Some of the kids in Daryl's family are themselves in wheelchairs but that did not stop each and every one of them from loving on the kids at Hermano Pedro. 

"Welcome to Guatemala Daryl and Family.  Or perhaps I should say welcome home.  I know that your harts have been here for years."

Goodnight:

Yours in Christ, Dick

Just a short note on Jason

It has now been 3 weeks since Jason has disappeared.  No one has seen or heard anything.  

Please continue to  Pray.

“Perhaps our eyes need to be washed by our tears once in a while, 

so that we can see Life with a clearer view again.”

Yours in Christ, Dick