I’ll never forget the Tuesday morning I met Maria. Yes, most Tuesdays and Fridays have at least one “Maria” on my schedule, but this Maria grabbed my heart, mind and soul. She was a petite, golden brown-eyed Latina, dressed modestly and intently interested in things we discussed during her visit. One month shy of her sixteenth birthday, already the mother of a toddler, she asked if I had time to listen to something she needed to talk about.  I knew the women waiting to see me already filled the dust-covered plastic chairs and overflowed into the waiting room, but there was an urgency in her question.  “Sure, what is it?” I asked in Spanish, knowing that this definite connection had been forged by God for some reason.  “I want to finish high school and work in a clinic like this someday—is that too much to imagine, only a dream?”  Having spent over three years in the environment this Maria lives in, I knew that many would think that was an unattainable, ridiculous dream. Tears spilled out of her eyes, and mine misted over. This girl was determined and wanted reassurance. “No, I don’t think that is too big of a dream, and I believe you can do it.” A big smile lit her face and she hugged me. And then I smiled and asked to share my dream with her. Another dream that some might think as ridiculous. A dream I have of not being the one providing care to indigent women, but working myself out of job because someone from an impoverished barrio rose above the poverty and violence, imagined more, and became a provider who remained in the community instilling hope for other Marias, in barrios here in San Jose, and throughout Latin America.  

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Putting a Face to Domestic Abuse

This morning my bus stopped for several minutes beside an newspaper seller allowing my eyes to scan the front page of a newspaper and immediately focus on a subject I became familiar with first as a pediatric emergency nurse in the U.S., and encounter nearly every day I spend in clinic here in Latin America. Domestic Abuse. The article caught my attention because it stated that an average of 222 cases of domestic abuse occured daily in Costa Rica during the first three months of 2012.

I thought about this for the remainder of the bus ride, and prayed for those who suffer abuse in the home...spouses, children and the elderly. Men and women alike. The article discussed the number of policemen who were injured while attempting to mediate such cases. I inwardly questioned the validity of such statistics, and pondered this as I poured my morning coffee and greeted the clinic staff. Life in a fallen world is messy and tainted.

Several hours later I would come face to face with this dangerous enemy. A client who had removed herself from violence by crossing a border illegally stated that she most likely would be missing her next appointment because she was thinking of returning to her homeland, hoping no further abuse would occur. I pray that I will see her cheerful face next month and that she'll reconsider for not only herself, but for the sake of her unborn child.

Counting the Cost

Settling back into Latin America has been relatively easy-- crystal clear skies, warm breezes, and Costa Rican neighbors greeting us with huge smiles, running to their gates as we stroll the neighborhood.

Going through items we left behind, packed and carefully stored, with dehumidifier packets and all, has been hard. You see, a leak during rainy season allowed some water to reach our things, which went undetected...my reference books completely damaged, and my medical equipment partially so...a cost counted, as those books and my non-waterpoof doppler wand need replacement.

The cost of time, thoroughly cleaning loads of laundry, hanging it in the sun, only to find another wash is necessary, leading to the cost of electricity and water....

But the hardest hit to my heart thus far? The process of sorting and discarding handcrafted ornaments lovingly made by my four precious children in young childhood, as these were not plastic or metal, they were paper,felt, fabric or plaster ornaments no amount of water, detergent or sun could heal. Thankfully, only about ten were destined to the bags of trash, many were able to be restored and will still grace our Christmas tree next year.

All of us face costs in following Christ. As I sorted last night, and tears fell down my face, I was tempted to blame this temporary setback on this lifestyle that God has led us to. But then I remembered that those in New Orleans post-Katrina had mountains of ruined things and they were living where they always had.

Using our time, money, talents and whole being in investing in others, rather than the temporary trappings of this world are what bring my family contentment. And living life serving others has brought great joy and peace. Thank you to those who allow us to have one foot in each continent. For those who give sacrificially and who pray for us often. I felt those prayers last night when I so desperately needed them.

Advent Conspiracy

Living life outside the U.S. is filled with pros and cons. Delicious fruits, a variety of veggies and rich coffee are in abundance. Life flows at a much slower pace which is good on a relational level, but often frustrating when transacting business or keeping to a specific schedule. Many a family would be dismayed about missing out on scores of new products, popular books, the latest movies and music, and current fashion. Oh, eventually those products might make it to our part of the Western Hemisphere, but unless someone travels to Costa Rica, and has perused a book or magazine in flight or lugged a suitcase of surprises, it may be months or years before such items crossed our path.

I had heard of the Advent Conspiracy in the past, but never understood what it was all about until I purchased and read the book pictured above. After spending four years living in Latin America, and another year in Pakistan many years ago, I completely understand the author's premise. And vow not to succumb to the advertiser hype and accumulation of goods while on U.S. soil.

But living life this way is...nearly impossible....the average Westerner is bombarded by advertising, peer pressure, and the idea of perceived need multiple times per day. And yes, while living in the Southeast, we are wooed as well. Others will benefit by foregoing toys and desires that often break and wane post-holiday season. In fact, we as a couple have committed to sacrificially giving not only during Advent, but throughout the year as well...won't you join us?

Family Retreat Day

Reachglobal leaders are encouraged to carve out time each month for a personal retreat day. Although Brian and I often have a difficult time fitting this into our schedules, God always shows up. This past Saturday morning was more of a "family retreat day". A time to breathe fresh air, laugh with the kids, and enjoy the lake that we have missed for four years! The boat cooperated, and the rain held off until late afternoon.

Living life in the US, even though it is only for a few months, has presented challenges unique to our home culture. Fast-paced lives slow down for a few minutes on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights. I long for the spontaneous porch chats with personnel and Latin church leaders and missionaries. Chatting with storeowners and neighbors while walking on foot, an impossibility with America's sprawling suburbs!

But God is present and has interspersed calm moments with Him and others in the midst of a tightly-packed schedule. And among the blessings that are found in both countries? F-A-M-I-L-Y.

Blessed and Burdened

Ideas have been churning in my mind for this blog (and a few others) as our family engaged with a mission team from our home state around Costa Rica; as I sorted, gave away, decluttered, and packed prior to boarding our flight; on the airplane as we flew home to the U.S., and during rare quiet moments interspersed in my life since arriving in North Carolina three weeks ago.

Strangely, some days it feels like moments have only passed, while others it seems like time is passing too quickly. My present reality is strangely familiar, but passes through a lens that has been my reality for the last 4 years. Some days, English and Spanish intermingle and words don't come easily in either language. Some days tears well up in my eyes at the strangest times, and emotion overtakes me. But then the quiet voice of my Heavenly Father comforts me and I acknowledge that time spent in another culture has changed me, my thoughts and desires, and now compels me to reach out to the poor in spirit wherever that may be. In all honesty, I enjoy the temporary pleasure that a six pack of Chick-Fil-A chicken nuggets may bestow, yet yearn for gallo pinto, cafecito, and impromptu visits with Latino friends and clients. I momentarily bask in the cool refreshment that the icy air conditioning and a iced Starbucks latte offered in the local Target, but return items to shelves after selecting only a few, and return home overwhelmed by choices, assaulted by advertising, and seeking refuge with family and friends.

These days have been filled with blessing and provision. I came kicking and screaming, figuratively speaking. But I realize that the burden is deeper that originally defined. My heart's burden is for all those who seek. Those in beautiful neighborhoods in the suburbs or decrepit urban areas in disrepair, at home or abroad --the rich and poor alike are affected. We all need love and encouragement, a hope and a future.

New Life

This baby was prayed for and anticipated long before she made her entrance. A donated crib awaited his or her arrival.God heard the cries of my heart as I seriously wondered if this postdates baby would be healthy and whether her mother would fare well. Practicing midwifery in a foreign country is far different than in the US. Fortunately,usually things are normal and normal pregnancy is what midwives specialize in.
Pre and Postnatal care is provided by our clinic providers, but the actual delivery is left to a random provider in a public hospital. My client feared this. Finally I texted her that it was time to have this baby. She calmly responded it wasn't time. Well, tomorrow it is time...I thought, and prayed that this baby would make her entrance before my cautious management became worry. Late the following evening, I received a call that contractions were regular and my client was headed to the hospital after some tortillas and cheese. I prayed with her, and she thanked me for making her feel calm and capable, even though I wasn't at her side. Several hours later a healthy baby girl finally arrived!
Here she is!

This client was one of the few that continue care postpartum, and was the first to receive home visits due to her lack of resources and need. I was overjoyed as I was able to continue a tradition I began during my final births in midwifery school--a birthday cake complete with pink or blue embellishments and a candle. I had to improvise here in Tres Rios, with a large slice of tres leches and some sprinkles, a pink candle, and a much desired Spanish Bible!