Prayer Letter Archive

July 2003

We wanted to thank you for your prayers for Maspo who died a couple weeks ago. After her passing, I heard of 4 people, two being very active in the Church from one of the tribal groups we work with, who died as well. These 4 people died in the jungle as it was too far for them to hike to the medical facility here in the small town. We do supply the village with medicine, but many times we too have a hard time getting medical supplies. Many deaths here could be avoided if only medicines were available. This problem goes way back and is caused by the mismanagement and improper use of the monies allocated for medicine. In addition, there is much inefficiency by those who place the orders. The people are forced to rely on traditional medicine and witchdoctors. Believers now rely on prayer but the phrase "only the strong survive" is very real. It is only one of the many problems that plague the country. The infrastructure to provide access to remote areas is another huge problem as well as reliable communication. Our phone has been out for 3 months now.

All this talk of medical facilities and medicines reminds me of a story some of you may have heard but I'll repeat it anyway, as it's a rainy day. When we were building our house back in 1996, I was up on a makeshift scaffold when the boards moved and I fell about 6 feet with boards falling all around. I landed on a level right next to one of my workers who just stood there. After the dust settled and I was laying face down, I said to my worker that I was still alive but I had dislocated my shoulder. I slowly made my way down to the ground floor and told my worker, Waselio, to pull my arm down to try to reset it. He tugged on it for a while but it didn't pop back into joint. I was teaching him to drive so I had him drive me to the "Hospital."

We found the acting doctor who had me lay on the cement sidewalk in front of the dilapidated buildings. After about an hour of him twisting and pulling, I decided I couldn't take it any longer and we left to go home. It was a very slow ride, as I hadn't taught Waselio how to shift gears so he ran in first gear all the way. The muddy road was so bumpy he wouldn't have been able to go fast anyway and the pain was excruciating with each jar.

Once home, I took a couple of Joan's headache medicines that have a tension reliever in them. I had Micah get our sledgehammer and tie it onto my wrist and I hung my arm over the back of a chair. Then I waited as Waselio returned to the work site to put things away. While he was gone, I read in our medical book, appropriately titled Where there is no Doctor, of what to do. When Waselio returned, I showed him the picture and explained the plan.

I then lay on the clean floor as Waselio stuck his bare foot, with a 1/4" of calluses from going barefoot all his life, in my armpit. He pulled my arm slightly and twisted it and, WHALLA, the shoulder popped back in. The pain immediately went away so we went back to work. Since that experience, I've been very reluctant to go to the "hospital" and I make sure I build strong scaffolds.

Trust your having a nice day!

Mark