“Less than 2 years”.

That’s the lifespan of most missionaries in Guatemala.

Or, so I was told by nearly everyone when I landed!

While I can’t find the stats to back this particular idea up, I most certainly have seen the trend. The statistics I did find shared that worldwide, 45% missionaries leave the field before 5 their first 5 years. Many of these have very sound reasons for leaving, though sadly 71% of missionaries leave the field for preventable reasons. https://nationsoutreach.org/stories/christian-missionary-statistics/

When I came to Guatemala, I shared that my commitment was from 1 year to forever.

I guess I wanted to keep my options open!

Well, this week, I reached 10 years serving in Guatemala.

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My fist visit was to bring in the new year 2010-2011.

This trip was led by friends who were about to pack up everything and move the following month. I didn’t know then that I would later call them family.

They shared with us the plight of children with special needs in Guatemala, and it was staggering.

We visited 4 “orphanages”. Each were very different, but all had this in common- none were government run. For the most part, foreigners were not permitted to see government institutions.

That statement terrifies me because what we saw in one of the homes that was considered “safe for foreigners to see” would hardly have passed inspection for an animal shelter in the US.

That home has improved over the years, but I vividly remember from this visit the tooth brush bucket.

It was a bucket filled with toothbrushes, no tooth paste, and as they walked around to each of the kids, they would grab a brush at random, spend a few seconds brushing a child’s teeth, then toss the brush back in, and use the same sports bottle to spray water into all of the chilrens’ mouths.

That part was hard.

What was not hard was getting to just play with and hold kids. I will never forget how impacted I was with G and A. Two girls who stole my heart.

When I started nursing school, we were told that 1 out of 3 would drop out. We had to know why we were there- what was driving us. For years, it was A’s face- she was the name I wrote to remember why I would push so hard.

That trip impacted me.

What I didn’t know until years later, when I personally knew the inside of homes’ struggles, was just how important it is for teams to come in the short term.

People to sit with, hold, hug, play with, and love these kids.

People to jump in and wash the dishes this meal so a tired intern can enjoy a cup of coffee with one of the forever-babies in arms.

People to sing to, or play guitar for the rowdy bunch.

People to sit on the floor and have an invisible cup of tea with the littles and snap pretend selfies smiling at a lego block held high like a phone.

The need is so great, and the caregivers are spread thin, that visitors who simply invest time in the children make all the difference!

Short term trips are valuable!

Heading home from my own short term trip, I remember getting on the plane and promising myself I would be back.

And, spoilers, I did come back!!

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Ok- that was a fair few paragraphs and we only covered 10 days time! And that was before even moving here!

Sooooo, maybe I speed up the replay a little!

January 2015 I moved to Guatemala after a few years working stateside as a nurse. I was a float, so I had a little experience in a lot of areas. Familiar with a lot, and an expert in nothing!

Initially I lived in the group home and served as a nanny in the home, a nurse visiting our rural village kiddos each month, and a student both finishing my bachelors and learning Spanish and culture.

In home visits, we would travel for hours and hours- it meant seeing much of the country few tourists would see.

Visits in families homes meant building friendships with folks who shared their lives with us. Some we encouraged, and others encouraged us.

Maria’s mom’s blood sugar would top out my meter every visit. There was no way for her go get or store insulin so she lived with wildly high sugar until it took her life some years later.

Appolonia’s family would not let anyone inside for nearly 2 years after visiting consistently because many others had made promises and not returned.

Selvin’s sister Evelyn was so shy but never stopped playing peek a boo from behind the tarp wall. She would also bite you if given the chance! Her brother died a few years later.

Luis Jose’s grandpa was always proud to share how his grandson would shake his bottle filled with rocks for the sound. His family cherished his role with them and he was always central with the family thought he was a big boy and hard to move.

Maria Jose’s family was one of my first visits, my very first time out.

We visited the ocean town of Sipacate, and this little girl was really sick. I shared they needed to take her to the hospital, and they agreed they would once a family member got back with the truck.

While waiting for the truck, they served us lunch- the catch of they day. This was their custom- inviting us for lunch when we visited kids from their community.

This family did not need help buying food, medicine, or therapy for their daughter. They were skilled at weaving fishing nets the commercial boats would buy- they were well off. So our team would visit them to encourage them, and kept visiting because they had become fast friends.

A week later, on the way to my second ever village visit, we got the call that Maria Jose had died in the hospital.

At that time I didn’t know anything about national hospitals. I thought that a hospital is where you go to get help, to get better. Now I know that is simply not the case for far too many.

I remember out next visit with them. The weight of it.

Their daughter was born typical- no CP. Then Maria Jose got sick and a fever stole her words and ability to walk forever. They loved her well for two years after that.

They cherished her. The grief was so real. And then our team member Manuel spoke.

I hadn’t known that his own daughter had died unexpectedly.

His words flowed so naturally, and resonated so deeply with this family. I will never forget the tears, hugs, and pain and joy in this moment. It was beautiful. Overwhelming. Redeeming.

I had never seen so tangibly how deeply our own personal loss can impact the grieving hearts of others.

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I also spent much of those first years, and really, every year since, in the home with the kids. I had met them one by one reading updates like the one you area reading now, so when I arrived, I only got two names confused with their correct owners!

These kids have become so dear to me over the years.

I’m not their parent.

I’m not their aunt. (well, now I am to just under a dozen of them!)

I’m not just a caregiver either. — Though, let’s pause to clarify that word “just”.

It’s not to imply this profession is not innately essential and deeply impactful, or that being a caregiver in the states was not deeply impactful to me.

Rather it’s to distinguish the depth of these relationships. More than patients or clients, though I imagine some long term home health relationships grow close to this.

See, this was my home, my family– not a job I went home form at the end of the day.

I don’t know what to call the kids, but they are most valuable to me.

I loved working daily with them in direct care; feeding, changing, scolding and comforting.

I loved less the night time vomit that had to be cleaned, or the seizures that were out of control.

I loved this season living in the home with them.

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Now, I seem to have again gotten a little carried away with my words! 10 years and I’ve only shared on a few months…

Let’s reign this in a little shall we?

Ok-

ok.

As time passed, I learned more roles and helped create systems to help the homes keep up with the growing complexity of the kids’ medical needs. More administrative responsibilities.

I mean, it’s no epic, it turns out, I make a really solid flow chart!

I spent less time traveling to the villages, but enjoyed other opportunities such as remote clinical maternity care and for a time, attending births. I loved the clinical nature of this so many years outside of the hospital.

I have enjoyed translating with medical teams for similar reasons. It’s wonderful to hear the process of thought leading to a clinical picture.

I’ve worked with the best in such clinics!

Later I had an odd, beautiful little blip in Tennessee while finishing my bachelors degree.

I loved learning theology and practical ministry, and I had no idea how incredible ministry with homeless and folks battling addictions was. It’s heart wrenching work, but beautiful.

Soup kitchens come with some wild stories!

Back in Guatemala, I fell in love with Aliento, and the community they serve. First I helped by driving some, then with nutritional lessons and height and weight tracking with their formula program.

Again, flow charts!

I even had a wild adventure opening a nutrition training center in my home where moms were invited to come stay and live in learn the care their children needed. We only had a few moms come before COVID realistically ended travel between departments for a long while.

That space later became potential housing for Ukrainian refugees in another little adventure that included so many interviews and heartfelt wishes to learn another language!

Jumping back to during COVID, we learned how to function under curfew distributing literal tons of food in departments near and far.

A few times I felt the crowds of people wanting food might just crush us!!

We also took oxygen to folks in our community after the hospitals announced “if you are sick or injured, you are on your own“. 1 in 3 machines we got back when someone died.

Over the years I’ve had the privilege of serving several folks in home health care, saving the families the money in hiring someone to change out catheters or feeding tubes. I loved these, and some let to life long friendships.

I have enjoyed health training with our homes staff and a few occasions in other ministries.

Advocating with our kids medical appointments and communicating medical needs between doctors and the houseparents was both satisfying in the professional sense, and exhausting because these were my kids, and the news always felt bad- bad to hear, and worse to explain to my friends, their parents.

Through nutritional consults with our incredible dietitian expert and friend, several of our kids gained sufficient weight to no longer be considered malnourished! But more still haven’t. That’s such a long road that it was sometimes hard to feel any progress was being made.

Ok.

It’s still too much! I should go back and delete some to make this more readable…

Adoption attempts and fails, powerful friends, loss of children, community discipleship groups, translating at church, moving to Quiche, new church and new relationship, deep, deep spiritual growth, and so very much more.

Folks.

I can’t!!

I’m missing so much of what has made this 10 year Guateversary so beautiful- but even with just summaries I can’t get close to it all.

How do you summarize so many monumental moments?

Trying so briefly simply robs them of their impact!!

So much is missing, and so much is shortened beyond holding significance.

It’s not the big tittle moments that have mattered most, but all the small moments making them up.

It’s Kevin’s story- the beginning, the middle and the end.

Without sharing all the details, how can you know how incredible he was?

How can I say “I love the kids” and not share the way if felt when Edy would belly giggle thorugh the phlegm in his throat that constantly reminded how temporary his time was?

Or how his permanent spinal curve made him fit so well into my arms for a morning coffee?

All the people that make up such a beautiful life in Guatemala- how does one summarize 10 years of powerful people and moving moments?

So.

Let me back it up to finish this out!!

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“Less than 2 years”.

That’s the lifespan of most missionaries in Guatemala.

I thank God for 10 beautiful, painful, profound, joy-filled years in Guatemala.

Here’s to the next Guateversary.

Another year of adventure, love, pain, depth, and growth.