Story #1
By Fatima Neves Ferreira
January 2007
First of all I would like to mention God’s amazing provision. Choosing a place to go on elective can seem so daunting but God is faithful and He never fails to guide us through His word and His people. I knew I wanted to go to South America. I had this burning desire to go to a mission Hospital out there. I longed for God to allow me the opportunity to do so. First, I had the hurdle of Written Finals (Medical exams) to get through then finances. I struggled to pay rent and other bills here in England, let alone have funds to go to Mission hospital in South America. So I prayed and prayed and prayed, and roped people into praying for meJ
Yearning to trust in God and longing to know whether it was God’s will for me to go. Whether this burning desire I had in my heart to check out Medical Missionary work was something I wanted or a desire that God had placed in my heart. I longed to please God and to do His will, whatever it took. But I truly had to trust Him with all my heart. I struggled to initially, thinking ‘it’s impossible, I have no money’. But it was as if God kept reminding me through my quiet times and through others, that I should trust in Him, seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things would be added… That He has good plans for me.
Being in a prayer triplet, part of Bible study group at church and all my Christian friends around me, helped me grow in my trust in Christ.
It’s like one of my friends said, ‘if it’s God’s will, it will be. The money will somehow become available.’ And God was very gracious and loving and provided the finances.
I had a 36-hour journey in total! Having paid for the cheapest ticket possible meant having many stopovers. Finally, I was in Cochabamba, Bolivia at midnight. Two friendly faces approached me, an American by the name of Michael Warsewski (CEO of Hospitals of Hope) and Bolivian guy called Guillermo Delgado (National Director). How down to earth they were! And so welcoming! The drive to the hospital and accommodation (Guesthouse on site) took approximately 20 mins in which Mike filled me in on as much as possible about the hospital and the patients they had. He also asked what I would like to do. Guillermo cracked jokes and so did Mike. They were so warm and welcoming. We talked about how we came to Christ and why I had chosen to go to Hospitals of Hope. My room was lovely and there was a note from Elizabeth, Mike’s wife, welcoming me to Bolivia. I loved it! Mike had mentioned that there was surgery happening the next morning on a 12 yr old boy with suspected osteomyelitis at 9 am.
Elizabeth knocked on my door the next morning, to wake me for surgery. She showed me the kitchen where I could help myself to breakfast. I could then walk over to hospital when I was ready and she would show me around.
When I stood at the kitchen sink, drinking water, I gazed out the window, curious to know what this new country looked like at daytime! I spat the water out of my mouth as there before me was the most beautiful sight ever! The mountain ranges that is part of the Andes. What a truly awesome God we have that is able to create wonderful nature! We were further out of Cochabamba, near the mountains, where it was a serene, calm place, ideal for recuperating patients. A beautiful sight!
I felt daunted at the prospect of speaking Spanish, which I hardly knew. I had taken a few lessons many months back. I hoped my Portuguese would help me understand.
As promised, Elizabeth took me on a tour of the hospital. First introducing me to Pastor Nestor, who everyday without fail, was preaching to the crowd of patients in the waiting area. An amazing man of God who showed me the number of people who have come to Christ. The need is great with most people especially the ones living near the mountains, having no idea about Christ. They believe in a mixture of Roman Catholicism and superstition, Gods of the Incas, etc. Most people don’t seek medical help either, not believing in white man’s medicine.
I did end up observing the surgery planned that day. The orthopaedic surgeon, Dr Rodriguez was so warm and in his limited English, welcomed me with open arms. They all spoke Spanish and I struggled to understand at first. But I was so glad I was there. I had felt so at home from the minute I landed. With each passing day, I got to know every member of staff. I longed to communicate effectively and by the end of my time there I could hold whole conversations. They were all amazed… so was I! But it was all thanks to them. They were patient enough to repeat themselves time and time again and teach me.
I went to Spanish speaking church where most of the staff attended. They became family to me. I stayed on late at the hospital shadowing the on call doctor and thus had the opportunity to know them better and truly become part of the family. I saw lots of surgery. The hospital, which was opened in September 2006, thanks to many donations over the years to Hospitals of Hope, was state of the art. The operating theatres are amazing, perhaps even better than some in England. Laparoscopic cholecystectomy was a common thing, amongst other laparoscopic surgery.
Plans for the next phase of development of the hospital are underway with building commencing February 2008. I was privileged enough to be translating for the American team of engineers from EMI who where working with the local architect. How awesome! Me who hardly new Spanish when I arrived in Bolivia, somehow, God enabled me to. What a blessing, a privilege!
Unfortunately whilst I was there, there was civil unrest in Cochabamba city centre. It affected the hospital in sense that there was no transport to bring staff or patients to the hospital. The fact that the hospital hasn’t been open too long also meant that there weren’t as many patients. But, day-by-day, patient numbers increased. The hospital provides treatment at much lower cost than other hospitals and it has amazing facilities with specialist doctors and dentists.
Whilst I was out there, I felt the biggest thing I came away with was a family. The Lord had given me tremendous opportunity to love people and develop friendships even crack my not so funny jokes, in another language!
Mike and Guillermo, married to Elizabeth and Claudia, who are sisters, I got to know very well. Especially the girls’ family and also Guillermo’s. And I love them dearly. I was considered one of them. To me, they are my Bolivian family.
At the end of my trip Mike asked me to return to Bolivia. He said my personality worked well with them. They long for me to return as a Doctor and work there. What a privilege. I hope I can, God willing.
A friend from church was curious to know whether my excitement when I got back and desire to return to Bolivia, was just a honeymoon period. OR would I feel the same 6 months or a year later? My heart still burns with deep desire to return, to learn Spanish, that I may be extremely fluent and to grow in Christ, more and more that I may be a vessel for him to shine His light through me. Wherever that may be. I was told that it’s rare to go somewhere and feel so at home, to feel a part of the family. Could this mean that this is part of God’s plan for me?
I have learnt that if I put Christ first in my life, He will carry out His will for my life. His plans for me are even more amazing and awesome than I could ever imagine. I couldn’t plan my life better that God can. He is totally awesome, totally sovereign, totally Lord of my life. I urge you to allow Christ to use you and believe me, He will not only do that but He’ll blow your mind!
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Story #2
Wheelbarrow Medicine
By D. L. Paige, MPAS, PA-C
Like a big collection of potatoes in a gunnysack, the frail Bolivian man carried his even frailer Bolivian friend over his tiny four-foot tall shoulder into the rural Hospitals of Hope Clinic. With smiles bigger then Aunt Jemimah on both of their dark leathery faces and a urinary catheter-bag flapping like a flag in a Kansas wind from the now shoulder high paralyzed man, this Samaritan of Bolivia gently laid his crippled friend on the simple exam table, where pressure against his non-cushioned bed, causing ischemic necrosis over his bony upper thigh. With no pain sensation due to nerve damage, along with a leaky urine bag, the skin, muscle and bone had responded with an open, fist-sized, infected ulcer. Probably pseudomonas arginosis noted by the foul smell and yellow drainage. But how did this determined duo get to the perfectly placed Hospitals of Hope village clinic just outside of Cochabamba and the foothills of the beautiful mountains? A wheelbarrow! For several miles, over cobblestone roads and hand plowed farm fields this happy friend pushed the equally happy patient to our clinic each day during the week, allowing us to treat and dress the wound. Such was my start of a brisk week of Bolivian medicine that was only to be upstaged at the end of the week by a personal visit from none other then the First Lady of Bolivia.
Friday morning, our final work day at the clinic, the door to my quaint exam room flew open and Madame Virginia Gillum de Quiroga the wife of Bolivia’s President entered, along with her troupe and body guards. With direct eye contact, this Christian woman and national leader greeted my poor patient, a colorful but tiny Quechua Indian woman. Then greeting me, shaking my hand, and looking pleased she had been blessed by seeing us, disappeared as quickly as she had entered. My patient, unaware of the history and the gravity of what had just happened was told who the woman was by Jose, my interpreter. Unaffected, she turned back toward me, trusting and hoping that I could provide some remedy for which she came for. Between those two events came life, bittersweet and the works of Christ.
My wife Victoria and I, from a little north central Kansas town, came to Bolivia for ten days after hearing from God. It was Spring Break and we had the time and desire to be a part of what God was doing in the poor of Bolivia through Hospitals of Hope. To return back home just to tell stories like this would only serve to exploit the very people we came to live with and serve. Surely greater stories could be told, but what about Christ in Bolivia? What satisfaction is HE finding there? We found HIM there. We found HIM providing Hope and Health and Salvation without pomp and circumstance. Even the First Lady of this underdeveloped country left her Palace to see the Palace of God in the hearts of these beautiful but indigent people of Inca History. Hospitals of Hope is the widow’s mite in the hands of Jesus, pouring out mercy and grace in a most practical way, with people, up close and personal. Here, life is not measured by what we take in but by how much we can pour out. Each patient is introduced to Christ as Friend and Savior and giver of Hope by the local Hospitals of Hope Evangelist, while worship music in the native language of the redeemed is piped all across the clinic complex. The building of our Lord’s Body, the Church in Bolivia, one real, poor person at a time, is happening each day. Doctors, nurses, dentists, teachers, believing volunteers of countless backgrounds and talents take turns weekly and monthly to carry out the Hospitals of Hope vision that God set into motion just four short years ago. The only smile bigger than the wheelbarrow man is the one on God’s face, when He confirms by His presence among us that He is Lord of All.
My wife of 31 years, Victoria, a special education teacher, testified that the Fire of God came into Mike Wawrzewski’s heart, back to Heaven, then to the poorest souls of Bolivia and then to her heart as she held the babies who had been carried all day on the working backs of their mothers. Such are the pathways that Christ walks in this ministry.
If any Believer would desire a Baptism of God’s fire they might consider asking our Lord if His Calling on their life could possibly include the ordained ministry of Hospitals of Hope. There are hundreds of tiny works anyone called of God can do to show the face and hands of our Savior to thousands of God’s wheelbarrow people in Bolivia. Just perhaps our risen Lord could move through your life to bring a wheelbarrow of Hope. As for my wife and I, we are already filling ours up again.
STORY #3
MEMIORS OF AN HOH VOLUNTEER
REFLECTIONS BY PHIL SONG, WINTER 2004
“The past three months have certainly been an adventure, whether at the clinic, at the guest house, or in the city. All of my journaling and writing can only capture and record a fraction of the things that I have seen, done, and learned in my time here. Lest I commit the futile error of trying to convey a few months’ experience in its entirety to you, here’s a snapshot summary of some salient experiences which come to mind. Although by no means complete, I hope that this can give you an idea of the things which impacted and changed me the most here.”
“-Medical cases: Each “case” has a human story behind it, and patients are people, never mere medical cases. I’ve seen dermal fungi, huge abscesses, tumors, wounds, and internal ailments on many parts of the body in the clinic. Two instances that come to mind are a ten-year old girl with third-degree oil burns all over her body who only came in for treatment once and never came back and a 40-year old woman with metastasized breast cancer and a tumor the size of a grapefruit (she had thought it was just an abscess and would go away soon, and so hadn’t obtained any medical consultations until she came to HOH). In my time in the clinic, I’ve learned much about how to interact with patients, how to respond to requests and crying children, how to try to address a medical problem while keeping the dignity and humanity of the person in mind.”
“Guest-house life: I experienced firsthand that sometimes the greatest ministry might not be in the clinic or an organization – but in the patient caring for people who need it most. I see much need for flexibility and endurance in a missionary’s life.”
“-Patients: During my first few days at the clinic, I was clumsy and somewhat embarrassed in front of the patients, for what could a college-kid from Boston ever know or understand about their needs and backgrounds? However, I’ve become comfortable greeting others, approaching them and talking about the Bible or anything else [in Spanish], speaking pidgin Quechua, and basically not being timid – and this has carried over into other areas…”
“This entire autumn in Bolivia has been a story of restoration in my life – through humbling experiences, I’ve been renewed with a thankfulness for my opportunities and with a desire to jump back into school.”
“Being brought out of the bustling Cambridge atmosphere I’d been steeped in for a few years into a place of peace where God could really reveal areas where I needed reflection and improvement has been one of the things to be most thankful for here.”
“The more I have been shown how much I have been given in the States, the more I perceive my requisite responsibility to use what I’ve been given towards the good of others (one of my favorite quotes says, “To whom much is given, much is expected”).
“Tolstoy wrote in one of his stories that true happiness can only be found in serving and living for others; in a sense, this is what I have found after being in Bolivia. I see now that losing myself in a greater purpose, that of serving God and others, is what I was truly made for…”
Story #4
“Daring To Dream”
By: Amy & Kyle Stevens
“Now glory to God who by His mighty power at work within us is able to do far more than we would ever ask or even dream of – infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts or hopes.” - Ephesians 3:20 - The Living Bible
God dares folks to dream. Kyle Stevens first traveled to Bolivia with a group of people the break ground and begin laying brick for a dream – a hospital to be built in Quillacollo, Bolivia. Just days before the team arrived in Bolivia, the land agreement with the people of Quillacollo fell apart. But God provided a chunk of land with existing buildings in Vinto, Bolivia. “It was frustrating,” Kyle says. “What was supposed to be ground breaking on a hospital became a last minute acquisition of land and a run down clinic.” Nonetheless, that team and many others to follow went to work transforming the land into a ministry that serves the people of Bolivia.
Kyle returned to Vinto, Bolivia in 2003. A drastic physical change had taken place on the land. A football-field sized structure stood where only weeds once grew. “It was overwhelming. I didn’t expect to see such a large layout,” Kyle reflected. “I thought, ‘Wow! This is a reality. This is really happening’!” He and his team of volunteers laid some of the first bricks of what is now a nearly completed hospital – building on what was once a dream.
It is no surprise that Kyle Stevens is returning to Bolivia in June of 2005. God has dared him and prepared him for this all along. As a boy, born and raised in Oklahoma City, he was considered a “tinkerer.” Family friends would give him watches and small appliances to take apart. He surprised them by repairing the items. From that interest, he grew to acquire many skills including wood working, plumbing, electrical, and CAD drawing. At age 35, he has worked for Love Box Company as the Lead Carpenter for 10 years and as a Structural Designer for three years. Recently, he took on the challenge of designing and building Clinic In A Can (the 45 foot semi trailer that has been converted to a four room clinic.) With that project near completion, Kyle and his family are packing up their Wichita, Kansas home and moving to Cochabamba, Bolivia to serve as Guest House Hosts and to build on the dream. “It’s exciting to be able to go back and take part in the completion of the actual hospital,” Kyle says in anticipation. He will be accompanied by his wife, Amy, and their 17 year old daughter, Megan. Together they will dream, desire and hope for the work God is doing in Bolivia. By “His mighty power at work within us” they hope to see God “do far more” than they would ever dare!
E.3
Mercy
By: Michael Wawrzewski
This is the story of a 32 y/o farmer that was brought into the HOH clinic August 13, 2002. He was carried in on a blanket by some “friends” stating that he had injured himself two days prior while plowing a field. Somehow, while plowing, the rope that was tied around a team of oxen became entangled around his ankle. The oxen took off knocking him violently to the ground and dragging him around the field. Luckily some near-by neighbors were able to stop the oxen but not before he was seriously injured. His friends immediately constructed a crude splint and put him in their truck bound for the nearest clinic. Though the injury was obvious and appeared serious, each institution that evaluated him would not attend to his care any further than a simple exam because he had no money to pay. Somehow the friends were told of Hospitals of Hope and that we might be able to help, so they brought him to the clinic. By the time he arrived, his leg was three times the normal size due to swelling. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that something was broken but the extent of damage had yet to be determined by anyone. Two x-rays revealed that he had a very complex fracture that any wrong movement on our part could potentially cause the sharp bone fragments to severe his main artery in his leg causing him to bleed to death. Our doctors relayed the news and findings and his need for surgery to the anxiously waiting friends. Upon hearing the news and our inability to perform the surgery the friends became solemn and sad. They determined that it “must be his destiny to die’. Without our help, they were going to take the patient home and leave him to either die or survive. This fatalistic and hopeless way of thinking was shocking but not the end of his story. We decided to pay for his surgery, all his medicines and provide his rehabilitation. During the thirty-minute trip transporting him to the orthopedic surgeon, our small but courageous doctor (Edith Villarroel) shared the gospel of Jesus Christ in Quechua (which he had NEVER heard before) and two out of the three riding in the back accepted Jesus Christ that afternoon. Praise be to God!
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