We are in the storm

My dad and I made it to Bolivia safe and sound! No travel issues whatsoever, so praising the Lord for that! We had some time in Santa Cruz so I some how convinced my dad that we should take a taxi into town. All I told the driver is, "Will you take us somewhere that has breakfast?" Dad was SO nervous and I was SO comfortable. There's just an element to third world travel that no longer scares me. Don't get me wrong, I am definitely aware of whats going on here, realizing my white skin and blonde hair practically spell out T-A-R-G-E-T, but I really don't worry about much. My dad is here for a week, and I really think it is going to be so good for him! When you spend 25 years in a place like Flower Mound, Texas…your eyes are opened up real quick to what the majority of the rest of the world looks like when you are thrown into the middle of it. You have to overcome the initial state of shock, and realize that God's presence is just as much here as it is in our Bible belt home town.

As soon as we got to Cochabamba I couldn't get my arms around that baby fast enough, so I raced to the children's hospital. Surgery for tomorrow is definitely cancelled. The little man has pneumonia, and it's frowned upon to preform open heart surgery on a kid who's respiratory system is compromised. The moment I laid eyes on him, the tears began to flow. He is so sick. And honestly, I am so scared. As I sat there with him for hours today, all I could think about are parents who do this day in and day out. I thought about my cousins, Shaun and Jennifer- who's baby was diagnosed with leukemia at 9 months. They did this watch-your-baby-helplessly in the hospital gig for over a year. And some parents do it even longer. And some end up losing their children altogether. I know these things, I see these things at work at home, but I have never been on the other side. No, I did not birth this baby, and there's nothing official saying that he belongs to me. And he doesn't- he belongs to the Lord. But the love I have for him is just unreal. Anyone who knows me knows I love kids, but when I hold this baby it's like this whole world stops. Nothing else matters to me but him. What I do know for sure, is love like this is not of our own doing, but is an outpouring of the love our Father has for us.

So to sit there, watching him struggle to breathe, knowing time is ticking with this heart of his, and it is the worst feeling I have ever felt. And my heart truly goes out to parents who do this day in and day out. He is in a room with two other babies. Both of their mom's were there today. So when I arrived, they asked why Baby D never has parents there with him. Through tear filled eyes and broken spanish, I told them he doesn't have any. Both of their hearts sunk and they said something to the effect of, "well you get to be mom for a while, he is lucky for that." They were very sweet. And while the idea of 3 sick babies all in one room is not a good one, it was oddly comforting to see other moms also with their sick babies. I love that we are innately designed to build community with one another.

So as far as what tomorrow, or even the next few weeks holds- I have no idea. I won't get into the nitty-gritty of the concerns I have for him from a medical standpoint regarding the care he is receiving. It's not that people are unkind or don't care…the Bolivian culture is one of the most loving I have ever experienced. But they simply have crappy healthcare. Almost all due to the fact that they have next to nothing for resources. So obviously, hospitals in Bolivia are a complete contrast from ours, except for one thing…they are understaffed and overcrowded. We see it at home, and I saw it today despite being on a different continent. But when I was here in March, the Lord really did a lot in my heart and taught me a ton because he continually threw me into scenarios in which I don't have a choice but to trust Him. He is sovereign. We should always live by this fact, but I know for the next few weeks I will be pressing into that truth like no other. 

I don't have much else to report as of now. I cannot believe the number of people back home praying for this baby! The Lord has flexed His muscles in some mighty ways these last few weeks. No doubt He will continue to do that, even in the storm. But please pray I won't be so distraught that I miss what He's doing, how He is blessing me, and what He is teaching me. I ask anyone who reads this, please go to bed praying for this sweet baby. There's truly no power like that of prayer. Right now, we are in the storm. But we are promised the storms of this life will pass. Thank you, sweet Jesus.