Category Archives: trusting the Lord

Protection and Guidance: Part 2

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As I waited for Gerber to come fix my tire in a dangerous location outside of Guatemala City, I remembered a time when I came home and noticed a white powder-like substance on the tile floor. What kind of animal leaves something like that? I looked up, and there was a small hole all the way through the ceiling and roof. I checked the floor and found a bullet slug that had rolled under the couch. This happened twice, with the second one coming through the ceiling and hitting the metal kitchen sink. I did some research on the internet and read that “terminal velocity” is when a bullet is fired straight up and then falls to the earth again, accelerating until it reaches a point where its weight equals the resistance of the air. This gives the bullet enough energy to bore through materials like a roof. Yes, people have been hit, injured, or killed by this act. I don’t know if the neighbor liked to celebrate or practice shooting his gun, but I have two 9mm slugs in my jewelry box that didn’t get me.

The Lord gave me protection and guidance just as He promised. Two dear brothers-in-the-Lord, Gerber and Raul, determined that I needed to move, and a few months later, a house became available for me to rent. Listening to their wisdom, the Lord guided me to a place that offered more security, no steep stairs, and a living area that was all closed in with an automatic garage door. This house even had a full set of kitchen cabinets. Something I never had in my past homes.

My thoughts continued while I waited to be rescued. Lord, it is my fault that I’m in this situation. I tell our missionaries that they need to travel with a companion, and I didn’t follow my own advice—Ms. Independent. I knew about the safety of traveling in pairs. I looked out the side window, and there they were. Two police officers in their black pickup pulled up beside me. The stern faced passenger rolled his window down with his rifle ready to aim and fire. Oh, Lord, help me to know what to do. I saw an alertness that would be followed by action if I didn’t do something. I remembered that they could not see me through the tinted windows. Against my resolve not to communicate with the police, I rolled my window down halfway. The seriousness on their faces changed to relief when they saw this white grandma facing them. I sighed when the rifle lowered, and the driver said, “Señora, you need to move your car. This is a very dangerous place to be.”

“I understand that, Señor, but I have a flat tire. My friend is on his way to help me,” I explained.

“No, Señora, you do not understand how dangerous it is for you to be here alone,” insisted the driver. He opened his door, signaled to his partner with the rifle to watch the highway, and came over to the car. He looked at the tires and found the one with a hole in it. Feeling a peace settle over me, I climbed out of the car. The officer told me he would change the tire, but I needed to get back in the car. I obediently did that. Watching the younger police officer guard us made me feel safe. The testimonies from my earlier remembrances encouraged me as I recognized the protective hand of God. He used these two men to guard me and change the tire. My trust level went up greatly on the scale.

With the cute little donut tire replacing the flat tire, I could now meet Gerber in the next town. “Thank you for helping me, Señor. I believe that the Lord sent you, and I truly appreciate all that you have done.”

“You are welcome, Señora. It’s a privilege to help you.” With those words and a slight smile, he signaled to his partner, and they hopped into the truck. I drove onto the highway, rejoicing that something so dangerous ended well. My two angels wearing badges followed me all the way to Jutiapa, where I met up with Gerber.

As a child of God, I see God’s protection and guidance on a regular basis in my life and those around me. I’ve grown greatly in trusting my life in His hands. One will probably never reach the “Perfect Ten” in trust, but I desire to get as close as I can and not allow fear to dictate to me.

Unknown Identity Mystery: Part 1

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The first baby we received in the orphanage brought out the “mother hen” in everybody at Shadow of His Wings Orphanage. This little doll, with curly black hair and a big smile, captured everyone’s heart. The bomberos (the search and rescue people) named the baby Marita* when she was dropped off at their station. She stirred up great interest because nobody knew who she was or where she came from. Christmas1

According to the information given to us, a woman found the baby in a box, took the box to the bomberos’ station, and prepared to leave without talking to anybody. Someone caught her, and she quickly said the baby didn’t belong to her, and she knew nothing about her. The bomberos took Marita to the children’s court, and she came to us from there.

Her care fell to me because I acted as the housemother, and in no time a strong bond formed. The girls loved taking care of her but in the form of playing dolls. They changed her clothes often and fixed her hair in various ways. They willingly changed her messy diapers. Marita rewarded all of the attention with her smiles and giggles. A casual observer could see that she had everyone wrapped around her little finger.

The human rights people initiated an investigation to find anyone who could identify Marita. We contributed to the search by putting her picture in the Prensa Libra newspaper and on TV for any possible leads. A woman claiming to be the mother went to the court immediately after seeing Marita’s picture. The next day she came to our door with a document that declared her right to visit the baby. The mother in me rose up in protest. What if she was not the real mother? How did Marita get lost? What stable mother would lose her baby? It seemed strange that the real mother would not know where her child had gone. We followed the court order, but someone stayed with the mother during the entire visit. With limited Spanish, I couldn’t ask the questions that would help me understand what happened, but I prayed we would have those answers soon.

After a month, another woman came to visit Marita. This woman told the court that she was the mother’s aunt. Our social worker closely followed any information that came from the human rights group, and they said she had documentation to prove her claims of being the biological great-aunt to the baby. Meanwhile, Marita and I drew closer together in a mother-daughter relationship. Just the thought of her leaving the orphanage tore my heart. I needed to prepare myself for this possibility. I did desire for her biological mother to have her child back if she truly loved her and would keep her safe. From our perspective, the mother’s story didn’t seem legitimate. Lord, please prepare me for what is coming. Help the officials to find the truth of what happened and to place Marita with people who will love and care for her.

I wanted to keep Marita with us for her protection, but more importantly, I knew she should be with her biological family. After a good talking to myself, I realized this would be one of many lessons in trusting the Lord to protect the children who came through Shadow of His Wings Orphanage. I would have to let some of them go. I knew I needed the help of the Lord to accomplish this. Could I reconcile the idea that Shadow of His Wings Orphanage, a place of refuge for children, would be temporary in the lives of most of those received?

*Name has been changed.

Deserved Justice Continued Part 3

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My thoughts went down many avenues as I watched this fourteen-year-old girl, who had suffered atrocities that left scars on her body and mind. Who bore the responsibility of the damage done? Would Ana* recover and be able to function normally? Is she locked up inside of her head and not able to communicate with us? Question after question came and went as I struggled within myself. I wanted to do more to help her find her identity and come into healing.

I took Ana to a neurologist in Guatemala City, and he explained that she had a normal brain, but not all of it was functioning. He said he had seen many cases like hers during his time as a doctor in Guatemala. I hung on to every word he said, trying to absorb any helpful information. I never expected to hear, “In cases like this, the survival instinct is for protection, and a part of the brain turns off. That is simple layman language for what happens.”

“What can be done to help her?” I asked, getting ready to write down the recommendations.

“At this point, there is nothing you can do,” he replied.

“Then you don’t have any suggestions as to how we can help Ana?” I probed.

“There is an institute for the mentally handicapped that is run by the government.”

His comment made me sick to my stomach. I walked away from the meeting feeling like a door had slammed in my face. What would we do with a fourteen-year-old who needed the care as if she were four? What about justice for this child who became a victim because of sinful and selfish people? Could her family, a mother or someone, be out there looking for her? What thoughts swirled in the mind of this girl? A part of me wanted to protect her and keep her in the Home. Another part of me knew how difficult it would be to allow her to stay, but a mental institution would not be the answer. Ana deserved more than life in such a place. I felt torn and frustrated.

As I drove us back to the Shadow of His Wings Orphanage, I prayed, “Lord, where do we go from here. Show us the way. I don’t know how we can help her, but I know she didn’t come to us by accident. Help us to know the plan.” Ana watched me and gave me a smile. Excitement showed in her face because she got to go someplace in the car with Mama Carroll—a big treat in her eyes. I smiled back. There had to be a way to work all of this out. I trusted the Lord to bring out the answer.

*Name has been changed.

Trusting the Lord for Protection

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Two days after receiving the three girls from the early morning call, an article appeared in the paper about an attempted drowning. The children’s father had put the girls in a canoe sometime in the night, telling them that they were going swimming. He rowed out into the lake and started shoving each one into the water. The girls screamed, and a nearby fisherman heard their cries coming to their rescue. Able to get the girls away from the father, he went to the shore with them and contacted the police. They found that the father had seriously injured their mother with a machete, in their house, when she tried to protect the children. I felt sick to my stomach when I heard the story, and the “mother bear” in me took over. We would protect these little ones and love the hurt right out of them. It consoled me that the father landed in jail. The article said that their mother had received medical attention in the hospital but did not indicate her current status.

Later that day, Yonith, the Shadow of His Wings’ social worker, said that the court called and that the mother wanted the children back. We needed to take them to the Villa Nueva court. “We can’t do that,” I told her. “Look at the change in them? They are laughing and look so peaceful being here. Has there been an investigation to find out what happened?”

Yonith replied, “No, they haven’t done that.”

“Call the La Procuraduría General de la Nación (the PGN include human rights people) and talk to them about this. It isn’t right that these children have to go back, and we don’t know if they will be safe or in more danger.”

Yonith made the call and then contacted the court to see if we could wait until the following Monday to bring the children into the children’s court. The court official agreed, and this gave more time for the PGN to investigate. Not thrilled that the children only had a few more days to be in a peaceful environment, I realized we had to work with the court system. We did not have a voice in the matter. We knew we just needed to make the best of the time we had to express love and counsel with the children.

Lord, you are their protector, and I pray that every decision made on their behalf will be the plan you have for them. My heart ached as I fasted and prayed for these three little ones. God wasn’t going to allow them to be put back into danger. He brought them to us, and He would protect them wherever they went. I could accept this and trusted in the Lord. They had a destiny with God, and I declared that in Jesus’ name they would walk out that destiny. During prayer and with my eyes closed, I could see a huge form with arms around all three girls. I knew it was the Lord confirming that He had them in His arms. Maybe they wouldn’t be staying in Shadow of His Wings, but they would be safe with the Lord. I finally felt peace for the first time since I received the middle-of-the-night phone call.

The children were taken back to their mother the following Monday. The PGN investigation indicated that the mother would find a safe place for all of them while the father remained in jail. The mother and girls went to live with a family member in a place not known by the father. When released, he wouldn’t be able to find them. The social worker, who had taken the children to the court, saw that the biological family dearly loved the children, and the mother bore the cuts on her body to prove that she fought for them.

This time of trusting the Lord for these children, even when it didn’t turn out the way I thought it should, made me stronger in the area of trust. The Bible says that His ways are not our ways, but His ways are good. I know in my heart that the Lord continues to protect and guide those girls wherever they are living.