Death seems to be a more acceptable part of life in Guatemala. Perhaps it is because of the high rate of violence, accidents, and sickness. Widowed at a young age, I knew about the pain of death, but over the years, I experienced infrequent times of this type of grief. The Lord allowed me to see death from a different perspective.

Miriam* worked for Shadow several months before she left us and entered into a marriage. The girls welcomed her husband as a part of our family. The couple lived in a mountain village many miles from us. As time went by, we heard about the birth of Josselin*. When I met this precious little one, I couldn’t keep my hands off of her soft black hair.

Because of the cold mountain air, Josselin developed pneumonia. She ended up in a Guatemala City hospital, with congestion and coughing. The parents hoped the medical people could remove the fluid out of her tiny lungs and help her to breathe.

I had finished with an early appointment and decided to go to the hospital and see the parents and the baby. When I walked into the room, I caught the end of the explanation for the need of surgery. Miriam and Jose* looked at me with hopeful and expectant expressions. It confused me, but I waited to hear the doctor for more information and why my presence would make a difference. I had intended to see if Josselin had responded to the antibiotic given the night before. Lord, I don’t know what is going on, but I ask that you show me the reason I am here.

The doctor continued to say that the only hope for the baby’s survival was to have an operation on the lungs and drain the fluid from them. He spoke in Spanish, so I did the usual struggling trying to make sense out of everything. I asked him questions to confirm what I thought he said. He did admit to the danger of the surgery for one so young, and that there would months of therapy and medication afterwards.

Then it became clear. The couple wanted me to make the decision about whether or not to go through with the surgery. They assumed that I understood about the process. The doctor used medical terms that they did not understand, and the cost of the surgery overwhelmed them. These typical mountain villagers had a little plot of land raising corn and vegetables for their existence. Lord we need to help them.

I called my friend in the States for advice. I couldn’t get an answer, and all eyes looked at me for a decision. Finally, I told Miriam and Jose that it had to be their decision. They were the parents, but we at the Project would help them in anyway we could. With his eyes looking downward, Jose said that they wanted to take Josselin home to die. The doctor looked my way and told me to try to change their minds. “This little fighter needs the surgery.”

I replied, “They are the parents and they are the ones who need to decide what is best for them.”

With the decision made, I told them I would take them to the our friend’s house and make plans for their return to the village. This plan included complications, but God made a way through all of it. I needed to find transportation for the three-hour trip. A chicken bus wouldn’t serve the purpose this time. While I started making calls for assistance, the disappointed doctor removed the breathing apparatus and tubes and prepared the baby for travel.

We were fighting against time, because city law said that if the baby died in the hospital, there would be a mandatory autopsy and then enormous funeral expenses. The parents would not be able to take Josselin to their village for burial. She would have to remain in the city cemetery. The doctor helped with this by giving the couple a death certificate, so they could register this in their village when that time came. With the baby bundled in a soft blanket, we rushed out of the hospital.

Josselin didn’t make a sound all the way to the house. Is she breathing? Did the doctor give her something to sleep? Oh Lord help this brave and hurting couple. I fought the tears and prayed for strength for all of us.

Our friend prepared a meal for the couple to eat before they began the long journey home. I took the little one in my arms, anxious to know her physical condition. I gently moved the blanket back and felt her warm forehead, but when my hand moved down her spindly arm, I noticed how cool it felt. Concerned, I checked for a pulse and couldn’t feel it. Oh Lord, has she gone home with you? My hand moved to her face and head, and I realized she was cooling down quickly. She left us to go to her Heavenly home. This little one would not have to suffer ever again.

Miriam and Jose were busy talking and eating like at any other normal meal, so I continued to hold the tiny lifeless body. Choked with emotion, I rocked her from side to side. I didn’t know how to tell them the news. My friend looked at me, and I shook my head no. Miriam saw me do this, and they took the update without any signs of emotion. I think they grieved at the hospital during their days and nights of vigilance, already accepting her death. I held back my tears until I later. Now, I needed to find them a way to get the baby to their village. It took calling four contacts before I found a missionary couple who wanted to provide this service for the parents.

Miriam and Jose let their beloved baby go knowing that her new heavenly home was a much better place. They did not want her to suffer with surgery, therapy, and all that would come after. They looked to the Great Healer for their darling daughter and rejoiced that she was with the Lord Jesus. They did not question God’s unconditional love, but trusted in His plan for their precious Josselin. I greatly admired them in their trust and faith, and I determined in my heart that I would be like that. They knew that one day they would be reunited with her, and what a joyous day that will be.

We all can have that hope in Jesus our Lord. His resurrection provided us with the way for our eternal life with Him, if we choose to live our life with Him in this world. Death does not have a hold on us. Instead, it is an open door for a life of love such as we’ve never experienced before.

*Names have been changed.