As my wife and I sought out and began to find restoration and renewal for ourselves, we discovered a new calling in bringing the same to the larger FMC community.
I grasped and kissed that wooden cross and thanked and praised Jesus over and over and over. I knew and believed deep down, Jesus wanted me here, in Peru. He MUST be willing my good in some way through this suffering.
Naturally, in a family with eight children, you learn to take care of others. When Mrs. Genie asked us to watch over Mr. Frank while she went to visit a relative, we were slightly uncomfortable. Even though we were used to taking care of others, never had we taken care of someone whom we had respected as much as Mr. Frank.
My Dad coordinated one day with the nuns to visit their Girls Home. We were greeted by about a hundred of them, in the driveway of the home, all of them waving and trying to get a look at us, a family of nine white foreigners.
These hidden sufferings are the things that till the soil of the mission post, that soften our hearts to the sufferings of the poor. Each suffering, endured with patience, offered up for the salvation of the souls around us, are the seeds that will spring forth into flowers and trees.
When our day was coming to an end, a woman named Irma showed up at the clinic. Unfortunately, it was too late in the day, and our doctor could not see any more patients. It broke my heart that Irma may not be able to receive the medical care that she needed.
A few years ago, an estranged family member showed up at Eusebia’s door with two young girls, aged 3 and 6, that Eusebia had never seen before. The man instructed the girls to sit on Eusebia’s porch while he briefly described the unfortunate circumstances which led their parents to abandon them. He hustled back to his car, and drove away—never to be seen or heard from again.