Hey, We're Famous

We are famous. We are on another web site, to prove that we exist in cyberspace, which doesn't really exist. I'm so confused that I exist in a place which doesn't exist, but it's true.

See you.

It's Official, We're Staying Another Year

Since we returned to Malawi in September, we have been praying about how long we should stay. Logic has a number of reasons to stay through June 2012 and a number of reasons to leave in the summer of 2011. But the Lord says,

Isaiah 55:8-9
8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the LORD.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Human logic is nice, but God has a plan for our lives that at times defies human logic, but is always the best plan. So we prayed. We prayed for three months.
As we prayed, it became apparent that God wanted us to stay until June 2012. The logical reasons to stay are that Andrew will graduate high school From African Bible College Christian Academy and we will stay be here while our director spends a year on furlough. Those reasons are nice, but they pale in comparison to the most important reason, God directed us to stay.

We’re excited about staying. The time in Malawi hasn’t been easy, but it has been a time of tremendous growth for each of us individually and as a family. We are a happier, closer family for working through the hard issues that Malawi brought up. If nothing else good happens, we’re grateful to the Lord for bringing us together.
How did the Lord bring us together? Our time in Link Care helped us to talk about what each of us wanted from the family and work on setting goals as a family. That time also taught us that “You are who you are, not what you do.” Try reading the Gospels with that thought in the back of your mind. It seems like that is much of what Jesus is saying.

So, we are here following God’s will, asking for your prayers that we will follow His perfect will joyfully, and that He will give us direction for our next step in June 2012.

15 year olds shouldn’t have AIDS

This week I thought I was seeing a 15 year old boy with a stomach ache, until I looked in his mouth and saw Candida (a fungus). Oops. He was there with his mother, so I had to tell them I suspected AIDS. I sent them to VCT, Voluntary Counseling and Testing, and he was positive. He probably has fungus growing all along his esophagus, which puts him at stage 4 out of 4 AIDS. That is pretty darn sick.
He had very cool shades and a very macho black T shirt, but he was choking back tears as I was telling him all about HIV. I’m not surprised. His world just turned upside down. Now instead of looking at another 60 years, he might be looking at another 10 years, 15 tops.
How did he get AIDS? There are three possibilities:
1. He was born with it. No one else in the family knows their status, so He could have been born with it, having gotten it in his mother's womb. It would be late to present, at age 15, but he is from a well-to-do family, so he could have been healthy enough all along.
2. He could have started having sex at age 12 or 13. That would be odd that he would get that sick that fast from 2 or 3 years of sexual activity, but it's possible.
3. He could have been molested. He has been at boarding school for two years, so he could have been molested by one of the older boys or by a teacher or another adult.
So, as we get to know each other a lot in the coming months, it may come out how he thinks he might have become infected. The how doesn’t matter much now. He is infected and sick. The why doesn’t matter much either. He is unlucky in a fallen world.
The only question s that matter now are “Who?” and “How?”
Who? : Not, “Who gave this to me?” But, “Who do I turn to since my life has flipped upside down?” I will humbly be suggesting that he turn to Jesus. He probably won’t make the infection go away nor will He punish the infector on this Earth, but He will be with the young man as he struggles to live a healthy life. Jesus will sustain him when there seems no hope. Jesus will redeem his soul. It doesn’t seem like much consolation from a 15 year old boy’s point of view, but it is all we have on this Earth.
How? : Not, “How do I get even?” or “How do I get rid of this?” but “How do I live with this horror?” I will also humbly suggest that Jesus is the same answer to that different question. Jesus can turn horror into hope. There isn’t anything redeeming about dying young or being sick young, but there is redemption in eventually using his illness to help others who are ill and to give glory to God.
How does AIDS in a boy who is just becoming a man glorify God? I don’t have a clue how it will happen, or even how it can happen, but I pray that glory does come out of this. I pray I can give some comfort as he starts this very sad journey.

It Just So Happened

Sometimes something just falls into your lap, and you know God dropped it there.
Jerry was working at the main public hospital here, and happened to meet a young Chinese man volunteering at the same hospital with a Chinese government program. It happened that this young man is a Christian. It also happened that he lives just down the street from us.
So Jerry went over one day and took some avocados from our tree to Tuki. They prayed together, Jerry in English, and Tuki in Chinese. Jerry invited Tuki to a Bible study starting in our area that happened to be next door to Tuki’s house, run by an English businessman who goes to our church. When Tuki came he brought three other Chinese volunteers with him and the following week he brought five. Through very broken English we found out that these young people had never met any Christians until they came to Africa and that they were eager to learn about God and about what Christianity is all about.
In Ecuador, Elizabeth used a Bible Study in Spanish that was especially designed for people who have never looked at a Bible, and concluded that it would be useful now if we had it in English. She determined to translate it herself. Well, guess what? It happened to have been translated in to English last year.
After printing out scanned copies of the Bible Study sent from Ecuador, we walked over to Tuki’s house and gave homework to a bunch of enthusiastic young people. We started with the Gospel of John. Friday was the first day of the new Chinese Bible study for Chinese volunteers curious about Christianity.
The students came ready with homework done, and loaded with questions like, “Why did God send prophets to Israel, not to China?”
“Was Jesus just light or spirit or man?”
“Are animals and plants children of God?”
“Was John the Baptist the son of God, too?”
After an hour of lively discussion we had only covered the first nine verses of Chapter One but there were smiles all around and enthusiasm to continue on next week. And off they quickly went to prepare dumplings, because tomorrow happened to be Chinese New Year and we happened to receive a last minute invitation.

The Patient Died Before I Got to See Him

Yesterday was Monday. The doctors divided up the patients who came in over the weekend. I had six. I started seeing them one by one, and as I came into a room, there was a body wrapped up and ready for the morgue.

I asked, with some anxiety, “Is that Charles?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need help putting the body on the gurney?”

“Yes, but you don’t have gloves on, so don’t help.”

It was sad that my patient died even before I got to see him. At least I don’t feel guilty that he died while under my care or even under my stethoscope. It is a recurrent problem here that patients came long after it is too late. They are not comfortable with western medicine, a place that is totally unfamiliar: multi-story buildings, electricity, odd looking machines, even elevators.

You can see little nicks with black tint on the sick part of the body made by the medicine man. The patients are so much more comfortable with the witch doctor. He lives in their village. He speaks their language. He lives in a grass hut like they do. He believes in curses, demons and ancestor worship like many Malawians do. He may even place curses or say that he can prevent curses. By the time the family has given up on the medicine man they are long past the point where we could have helped.

I don’t know what the story was with Charles. I never even got to see him.

Blessings - Jerry

Economic Meltdown and Teenage Boys

Whenever I turn on the radio or TV, I hear about how bad the economy is and how it’s only going to get worse. The unemployment rate keeps growing. The value of most people’s investments is falling. Most people’s homes are worth less than they were just a year ago. The price of gas for our cars goes up and down faster than the stock market. Trying to decide when to fill up my tank makes me feel like a futures speculator. “The price has been going up for the last two days. Is it going to go up more before I go home or will it go down by morning?” Making the wrong guess can cost me ten dollars per fill-up.

The people we are going to serve in Malawi don’t have to worry about the price of gas. They don’t have cars. However, the price of gas is reflected in things they buy, like school uniforms for their children, shoes, even the little bit of food that they don’t grow themselves.

When you live on less than a dollar a day and prices go up, where do you trim your budget?

Another phenomenon is watching my son Andrew sprouting like good Indiana corn. Every morning his pants ride higher up his ankles. For his after school snack, he eats his way through half the refrigerator, and then asks, “What’s for dinner?” If you are missing a child or small pet, you know where to look.

In places where there isn’t enough food, adolescent boys must always be hungry. In Africa, rice is food for the rich. Meat is a rare treat. How does a teen ager have a growth spurt on a diet of millet and corn mush?

Times are tough in the US and the whole developed world. In Africa, where people are living on the edge of survival, as the cliff starts to crumble there is only one place to go.

Even when we feel like we have nothing to share, Jesus asks us to share anyway. I think He might say, “You really have more than you think. Plus, real giving means giving up a little of what you need so that others can have something. Please share even when times are tough, maybe even more now that times are tough. Don’t worry. I really will take care of you.” (Luke 12:22-31)

What I Will Miss about Shell

You can walk on the street anytime before midnight and feel safe.

The kids can walk to their friends’ houses safely.

After 50 years of missionary presence, there is a lot of kindness and care in Shell.

The hospital really makes a difference. People come from very far because we treat them well and give good medical care.

I have patients who are good friends.

The weather is great.

The fruits and juices are wonderful.

Beautiful birds.

I can pray openly with patients.

We start every day with group prayer.

The medical students and residents are eager to learn.

The missionaries.

Getting a front row seat to see God’s miracles.

No TV, no X-boxes, and no weapons in neighbors’ houses.

The children’s friends’ parents share our values and standards.

We will miss Shell a lot.

Blessings,
Jerry

Big Urine, Little Urine

In Ecuador, especially among indigenous people, big urine is stool, and little urine (la orina chiquita, la orina pequeña) is urine. When people complain of problems urinating, the doctor has to be sure to specify which one.

Humorous story to remember this by: One doctor had an elderly gentleman who came in repeatedly saying, “I can’t urinate.”

The doctor gave him Hytrin, a medicine to help men with prostate trouble pee. He still couldn’t go. Finally, the doctor took him to the Emergency Room to put a Foley catheter in him. He starts to scream, “NO! I just can’t pee!”

The doctor remembered big urine vs. little urine and asked how many days since the gentleman pooped. It had been about 4 days. Milk of Magnesia cured him when a Foley catheter put into his bladder couldn’t.

A Grizzly Day by Mike Hardin, MD

Do you ever wonder if all your life’s training was to prepare you for one moment? In retrospect, Saturday, January 19, 2008 seems like that day.

The setting is our 30-bed mission hospital with a two and a half bed E.R., running on generator power since the electricity was out to our section of the country, with one doctor, one resident, one intern and two nurses on duty on a Saturday morning. At 10:15 AM a bus crashes and overturns on the road winding down from the Andes towards the Amazon, about a 25-minute drive from the hospital.

Six are dead on the scene. Bystanders begin loading other victims into pickup trucks, cars and eventually ambulances to be transported down the road to our hospital or up the road to others.

As soon as we realized the number of wounded arriving (eventually 23), we enacted the finely tuned hospital disaster plan: call everyone related to the hospital and then some and ask them to come help. The hospital ambulance trolled through town to find employees and bring them in.

Broken and bloody body after body came through the door and were placed on stretchers or benches in the hallway. It resembled a scene from a war movie. The amount of blood and gravity of the injuries were overwhelming. We made quick triage decisions as we decided one victim was too far gone to save – we stopped resuscitation and pushed the body to the end of the hallway to free up space for others that could be saved. The number of critical patients quickly outnumbered our medical personnel.

Four with severe head injuries were intubated and placed on our three ventilators. Short one ventilator, a patient’s mother-in-law was quickly briefed on how to keep her son-in-law alive by squeezing the ambu bag and ventilating him while we moved on to other patients. She kept it up for two hours before he was transferred.

Victims were labeled with tags with numbers and brief exam findings. Only later were people identified. Some of the injured had to identify their severely wounded or dead relatives for us.

One scene still plays in my head. A 21-year old Korean American girl wandering through the E.R. door with the entire right side of her face from her nose to her ear hanging off, exposing her skull, the skin held up by her right hand. A missionary took her off for treatment.

Everyone came to help. All of the missionary doctors, various spouses -- even the kitchen, janitorial, maintenance and administrative staff of the hospital were all enlisted in some way. Our administrator’s wife found herself shaving and prepping victims’ heads for suturing. Missionaries and staff donated blood that was immediately transfused into patients -- the closest blood bank was unable to process blood due to the power outage.

A call for help to the nearest hospital brought another five Ecuadorian doctors, among them a much needed orthopedist and general surgeon plus two radiology techs to help with the numerous x-rays.

In all, two patients died, six critical head injury patients were transferred for CT evaluation, several underwent major surgery for internal bleeding or extensive suturing and the remainder had lacerations sutured and fractures splinted or casted.

There were numerous heart-wrenching stories. An injured mother with a one-month old baby identifying her dead husband, her four nephews and nieces severely injured as well, their own mother later found dead at another hospital 45 minutes away. Another mother with her severely injured five-year old son at our hospital, her daughter in another hospital and her husband in even another one two hours away undergoing neurosurgery to remove blood clots from his brain. The American girl, severely disfigured, far from home and alone, in such shock she could only worry about her missing backpack that contained all her research data for her graduate thesis.

And there were bright spots. The incredible spirit of teamwork in a gruesome situation, the accidental transfer of anonymous patients (who ended up being related) to the same hospital, gravely injured patients whose lives were saved. I’m proud of a dedicated staff that freely gave their all to help in a horrendous situation.

The following day we airlifted seven more patients (paid for by the local ministry of health, a miracle in itself) to other hospitals for further treatment and discharged the least of the wounded, an 80-year old woman with a small cut on her forehead.

Missionaries contacted the relatives of the American girl, notified the U.S. Embassy, made lodging and transportation arrangements for the family, arranged for her transfer to a Quito hospital and welcomed her there with hospital visits by English-speakers. Another very determined missionary traveled to two separate towns, three different police stations and the regional transportation office in search of the backpack. She even searched the wreckage of the entire bus and found nothing. Eventually, in a locked storeroom in a ministry of transportation office in a town two hours away she found the backpack, still sealed with all the girl’s research data, cash, credit cards and passport. It arrived in Quito today.

I’m not sure how to end except to ask for your prayers for the numerous victims and their grieving families and for a shocked hospital staff that experienced a lot more than they ever bargained for.

That Time of Year

Well, it's that time of year again.

The first day of fall? No

The baseball pennant races? No

The start of football season? No

The kids are back in school? No

Well, what time of year is it? It's the flying of the ants! Duh!

The flying of the ants is the one or two days each year when the ants fly. They can be found under any street or porch light the following morning.

Last Thursday the Indians who live near our house were out collecting them before school. They had big garbage bags full of them. Elizabeth asked for a few.

You see our employee Martha preparing them. You take off the wings and the head and cook them. Around here we call them "Jungle Bacon Bits." They have a touch of a lemon taste, plus a bit of a Baco-s taste.

So, next time you see ants on the move, keep in mind that you too can have a high protein, low carb topping for your salad, or give the kids a nutritious after-school snack!
I'm sure they'll be available at Trader Joe's soon.

Six-Year-Old Update

David Santi went home a couple of days ago. He is the six-year-old who kept thwarting our efforts to change his bandages. He wore donated clothes as he left because he came to the hospital without a stitch on.

As you can see in the photo, he went home with quite a haul of goodies. He has two cars, each about 4 to 5 inches long, plus a coloring book. Not bad for a naked little boy from the jungle The last few days he was in the hospital, David made himself quite at home. He would sit with the nurses at the nurses' station. He always had candy or gum. He went from a frightened boy in pain to a little pistol.

David's home life is sad. He is an orphan, and his twelve-year-old sister takes care of him and his younger siblings. We can't change everything here, but we can do what we do very well and with great love.

We already miss David.

Blessings,
Jerry and Elizabeth Koleski

Outwitted by a Six-Year-Old

We have been trying to change little David Santi’s bandages for the last two days. David burned himself by spilling hot soup on his back four days ago. Because David is only six and in our hospital all alone from the jungle, we don’t expect him to grin and bear it when we change the bandages, we do it under anesthesia.

There is only one drawback to anesthesia; you can’t eat for a few hours before you get it. That is where one little six-year-old from the jungle has defeated six doctors from the big city. Yesterday the resident wrote the order “Do not feed until after lunch.” The nurses thought that David was to get lunch, then nothing else. David, being a hungry little boy in a strange place, ate what the grown ups gave him. He was finishing lunch just as they were going to take him to the Operating Room to change his bandages. The dressing change had to be put off, because if David vomits from the anesthesia, he could inhale the vomit and give himself a nasty pneumonia.

Today, everyone was told that David was not to eat breakfast, so that the bandages could be changed. Everyone was with the plan, except David. As they were about to take the little guy to the Operating Room, he was finishing the apple he had begged from the nice man across the hall. The doctor asked, “Why did you eat an apple? You weren’t supposed to eat anything.” With brilliant six-year-old logic, David replied, “Nobody gave me any breakfast and I was hungry, so I asked the man for some food and he gave me an apple.”

David will be fine. The burns aren’t very deep and cover less than 10% of his body. He would be fine faster if we could change his bandages and clean his burns more often, but he will be fine anyway. He’s really cute, so when he does what he wants, which is the exact opposite of what we want, it’s impossible to be angry with him. Still, getting outwitted by a six-year-old is embarrassing and frustrating.

Blessings,
Jerry

Each Heart Knows It's Own Bitterness

What do you do when there are three patients who need a ventilator, and your little hospital in the jungle only has two ventilators? You pray, you put the intern and resident to work ventilating by hand the patient most likely to die, and in a sad way, you hope that the sickest one passes to his final destination before the poor intern and resident stay up all night trying to keep alive a man who lost his pancreas.

What happened to his pancreas? It died. It was dead and black, except for the areas that were filled with abscesses. He survived about a month with a dying pancreas, but he passed away tonight. We went way beyond the call. He came in near death. We saw that he had air in the parts of his abdomen that should not have had air. He was taken to the operating room with the understanding might die during the surgery, but the surgery represented his only hope, as slim as his hope was. When the surgeon found that there was dead tissue and pus where his pancreas should have been, he closed the man's abdomen and took him back to his room.

As soon as the man returned to his hospital room after the "open and close" surgery, his heart stopped. After three minutes of work and medicines, his heart started again. The resident and intern did the work of a breathing machine for about 30 minutes until he started breathing again, but 2 hours later, his heart stopped and did not start again. His wife did nothing for about five minutes, then she started to cry and cry and cry without ceasing.

King Solomon wrote in the book of Proverbs:
Each heart knows its own bitterness,
and no one else can share its joy. (Proverb 14:10)

The husband and wife and their two sons had many moments of joy in their lives together, and everyone's life ends in sadness for those left behind. Tonight the couple's life together ended. She and the boys will know bitterness for a while, and loss forever, but they will have many moments of joy in the future.

After seeing a number of deaths here on the edge of the jungle, I think that we should work at making more joyful moments and work at remembering them more. Bitterness comes pretty easily; joy takes some work.

Malawi, Here We Come

Our son Andrew will finish eighth grade in June 2008. After that date, we will need to look for other ways to educate our children.

We took a trip to Malawi in April. We liked it a lot. We prayed and were convinced that God wants us to go to Malawi. There is a clinic there called Partners in Hope founded by Dr. Perry Jansen. The needs are huge, but God is alive there.

The life expectancy at birth in Malawi is 37 years. 1 in 4 children die by age 5. 15% of adults and 30% of the population is HIV positive. One half of a million children have lost one or both parents to AIDS. There are 2 doctors per 100,000 Malawians. That is 1% of the rate in the United States. There is a joke, that is half funny and half true that there are more Malawian doctors in England than is Malawi.

We pray we will make a difference.

Blessings,
Jerry for the Koleski family

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants

Hospital Vozandes del Oriente has been here in Shell for 49 years. We do some great work with very little, and have a great reputation. We have patients who come 11 hours to see us. People seem partly to trust us because we are gringos, but mostly because we are Christians. We don't recommend surgery because we want the money but because we think it is best for the patient.

We are reaping the good reputation built up over years by great doctors who came here when there was nothing here. Everett Fuller was the first doctor here, even before the hospital existed. He was a surgeon. His wife Dorothy was a nurse. Dr. Fuller had a operating room and a clinic. Before he had completed the hospital, all the patients that needed to be hospitalized were placed on the first floor of a small hotel down the road. After surgery, the patient would be wheeled down the road on a gurney. One of the people pushing the gurney would hold an umbrella over the patients face to shield them from the sun or the rain. It's either sunny or rainy here in Shell.

Dorothy Fuller was Everett's scrub nurse in the Operating Room. In most hospitals, the custodians or the nurses are responsible for cleaning the Operating Room, but not in the early days of Hospital Vozandes del Oriente. Dr. Fuller loves telling the story that when his wife was his "assistant" and he had a particularly bloody surgery, Mrs. Fuller would hand Dr. Fuller a mop and say, "You put the blood on the floor. You need to clean it up!" Dr. Fuller is sure that he is the only surgeon who ever had to mop his own Operating Room floor.

We are living the words of Jesus from the Gospel of John, "Thus the saying 'One sows and another reaps' is true. I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor." (John 4:37 & 38)

Jerry

Mud Slide Slim

Since children in the jungle don't get to go sledding on snow, they still can slide down hills. Here, they go mud sliding.

The day started with the kids trying to slide on a large sheet of plastic wet down with spay water. They quickly discovered that the plastic wanted to slide down the hill with them. Since the first try was not fun enough, fast enough or dirty enough for the kids, the kids decided just to slide on the mud. It made a huge mess, grinding mud into their clothes. After they were done, they turned the bathroom into a new mud pit.

The great thing about kids is that they will make their own fun, and are usually more creative than the adults around them.

Blessings,
Jerry and Elizabeth

Premature Baby - It's Good to be Wrong Sometimes

It's good to be wrong sometimes. I thought the premature baby admitted two weeks ago was going to die. Shows how much I know. The baby at first lost weight and needed antibiotics, but now she is growing and getting ready to leave the hospital in the next few days.

Her birth weight and her Bilirubin, the chemical that makes people with Hepatitis look yellow, were horrible. She was born at 32 weeks. We have had babies 33 weeks of age die here. This tiny girl doesn't think much of numbers and statistics, she just keeps on growing and eating. When she was born, she weighed 1900 grams (4 lb 3 oz). During her first week of life, she dropped all the way to 1580 grams (3 lb 7 oz). Now she's almost back to her birth weight. She never developed any of the problems most premies develop, like pneumonia or other infections. She never ended up on a ventilator. I'm amazed.

If she can keep gaining weight and clear up her jaundice, she might get to go home to the jungle in a few days. That would be a great surprise and a time when I'll be very happy I was wrong.

Blessings,
Jerry

Premature Baby

Friday night we admitted a baby from the jungle. She was born at 7 months, 2 months early. She was the color purple, like a nasty bruise, from the waist down. Her skin was almost glassy smooth, not normal for a full 9 month baby. She weighed a little over 4 pounds.

It is a horrible situation. Her odds of survival here are really poor. Even in Quito, her odds of survival are really poor. Mom is 16 and Dad is 20. How do you explain to two children that their first child will probably die? We told them we will do everything we can, which we will, but that the odds of her leaving the hospital alive are less than 10%. Mom cried.

It's a scene we work through often. A baby with no prenatal care is born early. We work our tails off, they looks good for about 3 to 5 days, then they start spiraling down and die in a couple of days later. The whole process usually takes a week.

I find it heart breaking. One of my first questions to God, at least from this side of Heaven, would be, "Why do innocent little babies suffer and die?" I don't know the answer. I don't have any clue.

Someone smarter than me said it is because people are sinners and the wages of sin is death. He assured me that the baby didn't sin, but that because she is human, and humans sin, she suffers unfairly. It is like the students at Virginia Tech who never hurt the crazy kid who shot them, they were just the caught in the crossfire of his sin or mental illness. This baby is an innocent victim of the crossfire of human sin.

So today the little baby from the jungle with a child for a mother is OK. If she survives even a month it will be a miracle, but we have to work as if the miracle is coming, but not get our hopes up too high, so that when the worst happens, we aren't too broken hearted. The thing is, no matter how pessimistic I am, it still kills me when these babies die.

Children dying is the part of missionary medicine that I absolutely hate.

God be with you,
Jerry and Elizabeth
Koleski

Clemencia Puwanchin

Clemencia Puwanchin left the hospital today. She was a 32 year old woman I met on a malaria caravan to the jungle over two months ago. She had been sick for one year and four months; bed bound for the last eight months. She was totally blind - she could see light and dark, but not shapes or human forms in front of the light.

We brought her in with the team that went to the jungle. she had to be helped to walk to the airstrip in the middle of town. Her belly was huge, like a woman pregnant for a year and a half might look. Her community had given her up for dead, but not her husband.

We had no idea what was wrong with Clemencia until we got her to the hospital in Shell. It turned out she had diabetes. For the lack of $1 per day in medicine, she lost her sight and almost died.

We treated Clemencia's diabetes, and she started gaining weight and getting energy, but she still was blind. Our ophthalmologist came from Quito, and he operated on one cataract, and a two days later, she could see. We had to keep Clemencia and her husband at our hospital for two more weeks because her diabetes put her at risk fo infection to the eye, which would have cost her newly gained sight.

Clemencia and Jose went home for two weeks, so she could see the faces of her children, which she hadn't seen in over a year. She just came back, had surgery on her other eye, and now she has the binocular vision we almost all take for granted. She has gained weight, is doing the things she used to do, and is about the happiest patient I have seen for years.

In the Bible, the book of John, chapter 9, God tells a great story:
1As he [Jesus] went along, he saw a man blind from birth. 2His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"

3"Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life. ..."

6Having said this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man's eyes. 7"Go," he told him, "wash in the Pool of Siloam". So the man went and washed, and came home seeing.

The miracle that Jesus did more than any other in the Bible was to give eyesight to the blind. It's a metaphor for how we are blind to the things that really matter in life, like God, as we chase the brass rings of physical beauty, new cars, new clothes, and all the other idols we think we can't live without. Clemencia saw all that the modern world has to offer; TV, SUVs and the latest fashions, but none of that compared to seeing her own children's faces.

It's really a privilege to have a bit role in a miracle. Here in Shell we get that privilege often. Have you thought how great it is to have two eyes? Have you thanked God for that gift? We thank God for you.

Blessings,
Jerry