Newsletter

June—July 2010

Why is light given to those in misery and life to the bitter of soul?
—Job 3:20

The Cornerstone newsletter usually begins with a narrative by Dr. Jeff. This newsletter will be a little different but not entirely so.  As some of you may recall, in the last newsletter we mentioned that Dr. Jeff has recently completed a brief novel—The Rainwoman—which is set in the countryside around Loma de Luz and in the cities of northern Honduras.  If I could put the whole story into this newsletter, I would.  But since I can’t, I’d like to give you a taste of it.  What follows below is an introduction to the book by Loma de Luz’s cardiologist, Dr. Leon Greene (who is also himself an author, by the way).  Dr. Greene intersperses excerpts from the book (which will be in italics)  with his critical introductory commentary (regular font).  –SM

 

Here is Dr. Greene’s review:

Misery is a sickness of the soul, born of pain accepted, grown in fear endured, fed from hope left too long out in the weather.  One can surely die of misery.  Or your life might just turn on a raindrop.  Magdalena very nearly died of misery.  But she didn’t.  No, her life turned on a raindrop.

So opens the new book just released from Dr. Jeff’s pen, entitled The Rainwoman.  It tells of the struggles encountered by a young Honduran woman living along the North Coast of this impoverished country.  While it is not a true story as such, it is entirely about Truth.  It tells of a journey…

    It took ten years for Magdalena to complete that journey.  Ten long years had passed since she had left her abuelita’s house, angry and hopeful,

proud and scared.  That young girl, pretty innocent, and innocently pretty, that young girl was long gone.  Ten years of hard work and hard weather had passed out in the campo.  But in a city, a lifetime of abuse and exploitation, a lifetime of continuously lowered expectations, of tedious boredom and sudden violence, of drugs and prostitution or the bartering of one’s soul, which amounts to the same, had so changed Magdalena that no one from Las Niguas would have ever recognized her…if anyone from Las Niguas had ever looked for her.

Set in the dust and mud of the Honduran countryside--el campo--The Rainwoman chronicles the life of Magdalena, a woman acquainted with grief and visited by tragedy.  It takes the reader on a journey from the poverty of the countryside to the loneliness of prostitution in the city of San Pedro Sula, and it captures the soul of the struggle for survival—la lucha.  It tells us of one woman simultaneously living among gangs, yet inexplicably alone.

A few hours before dawn, Magdalena can no longer feel her legs or hands. In a sick stupor, she has been sitting there for hours, feet out before her, back against the corner post of the champa. As conscious thought begins to slip away into the well of darkness, she reaches out to the baby she is losing and weakly hopes that they will both be dead before the dogs or the zopilotes find them. 

To the visitor of Hospital Loma de Luz, it is impossible not to recognize the people depicted working and being treated there.  From Magdalena herself, to Doña Mirian – the ubiquitous Honduran mother figure—to Don Roberto (Tonito)—the guard at the hospital gate—every character is true-to-life.  Though not listed by their real names, all exist, are accurately depicted, and are active in the day-to-day operation of Hospital Loma de Luz.

This is a story of principles and premises, and Dr. Jeff unabashedly tells us two that he believes cannot be disputed:

A [rain] droplet, less than two-tenths of a millimeter in diameter, is set for the fall.  But, just before the initial acceleration, in the poise before the fall, something happens within the framework of this particular raindrop, the guiding raindrop….  It is cast in a particular direction and begins the fall toward earth….  The wandering cow with the crooked horn may have forgotten, within a few blinks, the raindrop that landed in her eye, that turned her head, that set her onto the path, that crossed an overgrown pasture to an old milking champa.  But God did not forget the steering raindrop…not ever…not for eternity….  The cumulative outcome of one such small choice for one raindrop in one storm might bring about a future climactic shift, or a madman to come to power, a beloved to be lost, or a great talent to be born, or….

Dr Jeff is the consummate storyteller, capturing the nuances of survival in el campo.  From the quizzical look on the face of Catcho Pando (the wandering cow with the crooked horn, oblivious to the effect of raindrops) to the fright on the face of 12-year-old Arturo as he encounters the nearly dead Magdalena, the story is woven from the intimate knowledge of Hondurans.  That weave speaks in loving detail to the hardscrabble existence that is the lot of Hondurans living near Hospital Loma de Luz.  Dr. Jeff, the hospital’s founding surgeon, is uniquely acquainted with the travails of the Honduran countryside.  Familiar with the Spanish of the locals and a keen and experienced observer of el campo, Dr. Jeff captures the sentiments of the souls destined to live and die there.

Is this book fiction or non-fiction?  Neither and both.  Can a person’s destiny hang upon the apparently random activity of a raindrop? Yes and no.

Is Magdalena destined to be rescued?  Might she ultimately find redemption from her impossible situation—from her seemingly undeserved suffering?  This story offers no easy answers.  All are formed in the hands of the Redeemer, and none are cheap.

No book worth its purchase price lacks a surprise ending.  Dr. Jeff’s does not disappoint.

--Leon Greene, M.D

The Rainwoman is available through TatePublishing at http://jcmckenney.tatepublishing.net or by contacting Kathleen at the Cornerstone office.  In July it should be available through your local bookstore.

News & Needs—

Well…there are a lot of needs, aren’t there? And in so many diverse areas…. It’s a little overwhelming to contemplate. How would someone who wanted to help even know where to begin? We trust that God will provide the promptings in those of you whom He will call to meet the various specific needs. If you feel His prompting nudging you in any of these areas, contact us at the Cornerstone office. --SM

We Can See Clearly Now…

We added a new ultrasound machine to the hospital’s diagnostic capabilities in March. It arrived on-time, much to the delight of its sponsors since it had threatened never to come at all – it took many years to raise funds for the purchase.

Dr. Leon was pleased to be able to actually see hearts again – the previous machine had served the hospital well, but had old-age dysfunction, and the screen flickered so much that Leon had nausea from attempting to see images that were less than stellar. After he opened the box containing the ultrasound machine, one of his first requests was for chocolate to celebrate! The hospital has also recently acquired a portable x-ray machine, and a refurbished C-arm fluoroscope should be arriving soon. All answered prayers.

 

7th Annual All-Honduras Missionary Kids Camp

A little more than eight years ago the idea of a week-long camp for Missionary Kids from all corners of Honduras—and mostly conducted by Missionary Kids—was born in a discussion between Rosanne McKenney and Todd Fields. Both were adult missionaries in different parts of Honduras who were once  themselves missionary kids.  Sadly, Todd was martyred before the first camp was conducted.  But MK Camp did come into being.  For the first six years, this annual week-long camp of singing, crafts, Bible memorization, hikes, field trips, ropes courses, swimming, bonfires, stories and just bonding with other third-culture kids has been held at the property of  Lynelle Fields (Todd’s widow) near Lago Yojoa.  For these camps, Rosanne McKenney and others from Loma de Luz had to do a lot of preparation ahead of time, then pack everything up and haul it to Lago Yojoa; but Lynelle was a big help, as were a handful of other key volunteers each year. When Lynelle had to move to the USA this past fall it was once again a big question whether we could or would continue MK camp.

In the end, we decided to give it a try—hosting it  atLoma de Luz this time.  With the hard work of preparation done by many of the same people as previously (a.k.a. Miss Rosanne and helpers) plus many of the missionaries from Loma de Luz helping take up the slack, this year’s camp, from June 7- 12, may have been the best ever.  Each year the theme has centered around one of C.S. Lewis’s Narnia books.

This year, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe  illustrated the theme of “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”  Roughly 50 Missionary Kid Campers and Missionary Kid Counselors from all over Honduras came together for 5 days of teamwork and fun.  Each camper (from 7- 15 years old) and each Counselor (from 16-22 years old), over a period of 4 days, memorized and recited (word perfect) the following scripture passages: Matthew 5:3-16, 6:19-24, 7:17-23, 10:29-33, 12:16-21, 13:44-46, and Luke 12:16-21.   Pretty cool, huh?

These are some really special kids that can often be overlooked for the great value they have in the work of the Kingdom of Heaven and the great potential they hold as future leaders in the King’s service.   If you sometimes despair over the direction the world seems to be heading, take heart.  There are some really fine kids growing up out there.  Let’s pray for them throughout the year.

Thank you for your prayers and your help. Keep praying. --Sally Mahoney for Cornerstone

p.s. The McKenney family will be stateside from the middle of July until late August.  After a Cornerstone Board meeting on the Mississippi Coast, they will be traveling; if you would like to have them speak at your church, we will try to arrange it.  Contact Sally Mahoney (270-362-4466; sally.mahoney@mchsi.com) or Kathleen Jones at the Cornerstone office.

 


All-Honduras Missionary Kids Camp Campers and Leaders

 

 

March—April 2010

…He found him in a desert land, and in the howling waste of the wilderness:  He encircled him, He cared for him, He kept him as the apple of his eye.
—Deuteronomy 32:10

Luis is just an ordinary boy. There must be a million like him in Honduras. Brown hair in a burr haircut grown shaggy, brown eyes, middling features; he’s of average height and build for an eight year old, though I expect he’d be larger and healthier looking if he got to eat on a reliable basis. Luis was referred to us by INFA, Honduras’s Child Protective Agency.

The story that was passed on is that Luis’s mother died a few months ago, leaving him in the care of his stepfather. Luis’s natural father was long gone. The stepfather did not elect to care for Luis. He had 4 children of his own—stepbrothers and stepsisters to Luis. There were just too many mouths to feed and hardly enough money to do that.

Then Luis got sick and then sicker. It was his 15-year-old cousin Yesi who finally took him to the public health hospital. Luis underwent gastro-intestinal surgery on the 14th of February. That was not quite three weeks ago as I write this. Luis’s little cousin Yesi stayed with him in the hospital for three days, but then she too had to leave. She had no money and no food and just couldn’t stay. So Luis was left in Hospital Atlantida by himself. No one ever came to claim him. That is when INFA, the child protective services, called us.

We have developed a close working relationship with the directors of INFA in La Ceiba, our nearest city. This is due in part to the charm, reliability and hard work of Iain and Liz Mckenzie, our Foster Children’s Home Directors. But it is also due to our Children’s Home being connected with a first rate hospital, Loma de Luz. It doesn’t matter a bit to them that we are located out in the boondocks and in the next Departamento(state). There is apparently no other Foster Home in Honduras that is connected to a licensed Hospital. Without really planning to do so, we have become the preferred referral center for abandoned children with medical problems. INFA is now calling every week, sometimes several times a week, wanting us to take another sick child, a special needs child, a child abandoned in the public health hospitals … abandoned children like Luis. We take all we can, and it really hurts when we can’t. The staffing and funds required to take in sick children, particularly children with long term disabilities and special needs, is many times greater than the amount it takes to care for children without particular medical problems. We did take Luis. He had nowhere else to turn.

We had had Luis for about two weeks when one of the staff at the Children’s Center found him in a corner, crying and holding his belly. Liz took him down the road to the hospital. (She was already spending the night there with little Orlin, one of our disabled / special needs kids.) Dr. Green admitted Luis and gave me a call as it looked like he might need surgery again. I first met him in Radiology, asked a few questions and studied his X-Rays. Later I talked to the nurses about their observations, then sat at his bedside talking with him and watching. The nurses told me that there had been stool and urine specimens ordered. They had brought in the specimen bottles, the urinal and the bedpan. Luis had assured them that he could do that by himself. Sure enough, he had come back with the specimens in the bottles. He had washed the bedpan and the urinal without being asked to do so. Mind you, this is an eight-year-old boy. Clearly much of that eight years he has spent taking care of himself. But again, in this part of the world, this is ordinary. It may not be so common in such rare and prosperous and privileged parts of the world as North America or Europe, but in this neck of the jungle, it is sadly all too common.

After asking questions regarding hunger, nausea, pain, and other bodily functions, I told Luis that I knew his Mama had died and that I was sorry. He just nodded. I asked where he came from.

“El Prado.”

“El Prado? Where is that?”

“Near Descombros.”

Puzzled look from me.  (“Descombros” means “a clearing”; as you might imagine, there are several “Descombros” in Honduras.)

“In the municipalidad of Jutiapa.”

“Is your Papi there?”

“I don’t have a Papi.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“Four–three brothers and one sister. Their Papi is not mine.”

“So they are your stepbrothers and sisters?” Luis nods.

“Do they live in El Prado?”

“Yes, and in Zona Guierra.”

“Oh, and where did they do this operation?” (touching his scar).

“In La Ceiba.”

You might have noticed that these questions and answers all had to do with geographic places, three dimensional locus points. They bore little emotional weight. Even when I asked “where do you live now,” though he brightened a little, he just pointed. From his position in the bed he was able to point in the exact direction of where he was staying. He had not been there long enough to know its name, but he was able to point unerringly toward the Children’s Center, out of sight and a half mile down the road. This too might seem rare, but remember in Luis’s world, his security depends upon knowing where he might be safe. He kept track of physical locations for survival. So I suppose that this seemingly extraordinary ability in an eight year old for cataloging locations, in the hard world that Luis comes from, might sadly be all too ordinary too.

It wasn’t until I asked him where he wanted to be that I glimpsed something undeniably special. His answer was not a place. It was a person. When I asked him where he wanted to be, he answered, “with Yesi.” Though his face didn’t move, a tear leaked out and meandered tentatively down to his ear. Yesi is his 15-year-old cousin, the one who had taken him to the hospital in La Ceiba. You see, even ordinary boys need to be special to someone. Where he had been operated on, where he had stayed before, where he was staying now, those were just places. Keeping track of where they were helped him stay safe when he had no one to look out for him. But they were just places. Where Yesi was, there he was special to someone. It has been my long understanding that this is one of the most fundamental of human needs. Each of us, in our heart of hearts, needs to be special to someone. We need to have someone who will not forsake us, no matter what.

This is just one more point in which the One whom Jesus Christ referred to as His “Father in Heaven” stands out. Our Heavenly Father stands alone among all other versions of supposed gods as the only one who holds us each as special. For “are not five sparrows sold for two farthings and not one of them is forgotten before God? But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.” –Luke 12:6, 7.

Even Yesi had to leave Luis in Hospital Atlantida. But “He himself has said ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.’”—Heb. 13:5.

We will take care of Luis as best we can.  We will do all we can to take care of his sickness, to feed him and to clothe him, to get him to school and to keep him from harm.  But I hope we can do more than that.  I hope we can let Luis know for certain that there is Someone who considers him special, One who will never leave him nor forsake him, and that Luis is the apple of His eye.

God’s grace,

Jeff McKenney, M.D.

News & Needs—

Emin’s Story

This newsletter opened with Luis’s story, and it will close with another little boy’s story.  My thanks to Dr. Shaw Yount (the story is from Dr. Shaw’s and Dr. Sharon’s personal newsletter, and Shaw has graciously allowed me to paraphrase it below).

One day in February, a 7 year-old boy from a village in the mountains was brought into the ER at Hospital Loma de Luz.  He’d been bitten twice by a Fer-de-Lance, the most feared and deadly venomous snake in Honduras (and Honduras has many feared, venomous snakes).  The boy’s name was Emin.  And Emin was not doing well.  The bites of the Fer-de-Lance are usually fatal without treatment, and Emin’s aunt (the person who brought him to the hospital) said he’d been bitten “yesterday.”  Treatment for this boy, then, was already a day late.

When Dr. Shaw examined the boy, Emin’s left index finger and thigh were in bad shape, and he was white except for many diffuse bruises.  In those early moments of checking him, Dr Shaw caught the boy’s eye, and this child—weak and in danger of his life—made the effort to flash Shaw a wan smile of encouragement…or hope?...or both.

Emin’s hematocrit (a measure of the red blood cells in the blood vessels) was 10 (normal is 40), and his blood was not clotting.  He was given 6 vials of anti-venom while cross-matching and making ready a unit of blood.

While Emin’s transfusion was taking place, his aunt—a nurse in the city of San Pedro Sula—told a longer story.  It was a story that revealed a remarkable amount of grace.

The boy had not been bitten “yesterday”; it had actually been 4days earlier.  In the mountain community that Emin was from, there is an herbalist-healer of some small fame (reports of him occasionally drift down to the coastal plain where Loma de Luz is).  He is reputed to sometimes have success with those bitten by the Fer-de-Lance.  After Emin was bitten, this healer “treated” him.  Word of Emin’s bites and subsequent deteriorating condition, however, reached his aunt, the nurse in San Pedro Sula.  When she heard about it, she had rushed across the country with some IV fluids and 1 vial of anti-venom—all she could afford.  She reached the house and managed to treat Emin, but he needed more anti-venom.  Two more days passed, however, before his aunt could convince Emin’s family to let her bring him down to Hospital Loma de Luz.  They didn’t want him to go because he had been treated by the local healer, and that should’ve been enough for Emin. Leaving for help would demonstrate a lack of faith in the healer’s abilities.  And the healer was…Emin’s grandfather.

Emin’s aunt finished her story, and Emin responded well to the anti-venom and transfusions at Loma de Luz.  He began to improve.  His clotting time normalized, and his hematocrit rose to 25, putting him out of imminent danger.

While Emin survived this close call in which the odds were very much against him, something else happened while there at Loma de Luz. Emin heard the gospel, responded, and came to the Lord in prayer.  He is a new creature, and his name is written in God’s book.

Luis is a little boy who has had scant experience of being loved and cared about.  Emin is a young boy who has been loved by family members but almost didn’t survive the tangled decisions and motives of some of the adults who loved him.  For both boys God granted people who played critical roles—Luis’s cousin Yesi and Emin’s aunt.  And in a remarkable instance of God’s graciousness Emin’s grandfather was spared the terrible grief he would’ve suffered if the boy had died from the long delay in the treatment he needed.  God used Emin’s peril to secure for him eternal life.  We are praying that Luis too will come to see that there is a Lord on whom he can cast all his cares, a Lord who cares for him and pays attention to him.

In Matthew 10 (as in Luke 12) Jesus talks about sparrows and people.  Here he says that not a sparrow will fall to the ground without the Father.  What does that mean—“not without the Father”?  Does it mean that a sparrow doesn’t die unless it’s God’s will?  Some translators even render the passage “not…without your Father’s will”; but the rendering is a gloss rather than a true translation because the Greek merely says “not…without your father.”  So what the verse says about God’s will perhaps remains elusive.  But the verse does make one thing clear…and it’s an important thing.  The first and most literal meaning of “not without the father” is simply “not alone.”  Whatever else is going on theologically, we can know that we are not alone.  Not even the sparrows are alone.   A long time ago God went to great lengths to show me that sparrows do fall and that sparrows—and people—are not alone, even when they are falling.  The Father is there.  God is paying attention...and He does care.

Help those your life touches remember that they are important to God—the apple of His eye—and that joy is found when He is the apple of our eye.

Thank you for your prayers. Keep praying.

Lord bless you,

Sally Mahoney for Cornerstone Foundation

PS. I thought you might like to know that Dr. Jeff has written a novel which is being published this summer through Tate Publishing.  Titled The Rainwoman, and set on the North coast of Honduras, it tells the story of the rescue and redemption of a powerless and dying young woman.  The novel also takes a look at some of the hard issues related to a world full of suffering created by a merciful God.  The book explores the possibilities of God’s constant vigilance and ongoing creation at the very fabric of the Universe.  If you think you would be interested in this book, drop us a line (call or email – see Contact Us page) and let us know.