By: Whitney Saulton

Exodus 17 talks about Moses leading the Israelites to the Promised Land, while Joshua fights the Amalekites. Whenever Moses would raise his staff in his hand, the Israelites had the advantage. However, when he dropped his hand, the Amalekites gained the advantage. Moses’ arm soon became so tired that he could no longer raise it up. So, Aaron and Hur found a stone for him to sit on. Then they stood on each side of Moses, holding up his arms. His hands held stead until sunset and the Israelites were lead to victory.

Someone asked me this week if I ever get used to what I do. While I’ve certainly grown more experienced, I pray that it’s something that never becomes routine or second nature– that holding a malnourished, dying baby will always feel raw, will always carry heaviness and will always move me to tears when things don’t go as expected.

Just last month, things didn’t go as expected. We had set out for a baby boy who was nearly 2 months old and weighed just 4 pounds. He was severely malnourished due to feeding problems from his cleft lip and palate. When we arrived, his mother was crying and clung tightly to her baby that was swaddled in a torn blanket. “He just hasn’t been himself this morning”, she sobbed. Her eyes frantically paced each of my movements as I took him into my arms to assess him. I pulled back the blanket and noticed that his tiny nail beds were cyanotic and the skin between his ribs sunk in and pulled together as he gasped for air. I pressed my fingers inside his arm to check his pulse- 41, critically low. He was breathing at a rate of about 5 breaths per minute and the pulse oximeter read about 34%. I told the mother to quickly gather her belongings, because if the baby had any chance of survival, we had to leave immediately.

I rushed baby Claudino to the ambulance and began infant CPR. My friend Gina helped to hold his mother steady as we rushed down the bumpy mountain road as quickly as we could. I yelled out to Noe, the driver of our ambulance, that we didn’t have time to make it back to Hope of Life, that we would need to stop at the nearest hospital. We arrived at the public hospital in Chiquimula and rushed Claudino inside. Reaching for a 24g needle, I started the IV and filled vaccutainer tubes for lab work. The pediatrician worked beside me to prepare to intubate the baby. After 30 minutes working beside the medical team at an unfamiliar hospital, we were able to stabilize the baby.

When I took a deep breath and walked out of the ER, that would be the last time I would ever see Claudino’s sweet face. We received word a week later that despite all their efforts, Claudino passed away.

We were too late.

I know what you’re probably thinking– you were hoping for a story of heroic action, a change of events or miraculous healing. But this is the real life crisis we are seeing on the ground here at Hope of Life. Sure, there are thousands of stories of restoration and healing, but I cannot let Claudino’s story go untold.

Will you hold our arms up like Aaron and Hur? Will you pray for Guatemala and the work being done here at Hope of Life? Pray for our teams who brave the heat and the distance to find these little ones that need help. Pray that we may never have to say again “We were too late.” Pray for these families that have experienced the greatest losses and that their emptiness is filled with the hope and peace that only Jesus brings. Pray that they are held up in praise for all God has done for His people here in Guatemala.