Now, where is his wife?

I'm here, I'm here. Those of you who know me are wondering when I'm going to speak up (or out). I'm usually the one jumping the gun, thinking quick, and consequently having to try and remove my feet from my mouth on various ocasions.

But I'm slow cooking this one.

I wanted to see her first. I wanted to feel in my arms how (little) she feels. To feel in my fingers her pin straight, thick, black hair (I've combed black children, white children, mixed children, Quetchua indian is new.).
And I did.

I also saw how feeding her will be a challenge. And she laughed with her mouth wide open... how many more surgeries will she need? She's 2 and about the size of an American 1 year old - which makes her look like a little fairy, if it wasn't because she was underfed and can't seem to gain weight... How much pain is she going to go through until we're out of the woods? How much speech therapy? Getting the theme?

If not, the theme is fear. I felt it like a dark dye permeating my fabric. Not eliminating compassion, certainty of the call, joy... just tainting it. Enough that my prayers are scattered and my praise is heavy and hard to lift, like wet cloth.

So it was pulling this trail of fear behind me that Mark, Isabel and I went to Huaraz's central square to look around and eat street food. It was packed with people selling grilled ox hearts on a stick, children running, a couple llamas chewing the cud, and a man singing off key, translated hymns through a megaphone.

But beyond that, encircling the whole city, are the snow capped mountains. And it was looking at them that I remember - or was so gently remimded, that the relief I was seeking was not going to be found in the central square. That is not where my help comes from.

That's also when I heard what hymn the preacher was singing and started singing along in my head. I don't know the words in English so I sang it in Portuguese. Ends up the translations were very different - almost 2 different themes. I grew up singing "Good Name, sweet faith, the hope for what is to come", and his Spanish was saying: "Jesus is for me the only hope of health." My daughter needs health. I need hope.

A stream of light did not break the clouds and zap my fear away. But fear was never a popular theme with Jesus. And then there are the mountains. I bowed my head, and said a Portuguese amen to his Spanish.

And it also ends up, the only words the two hymns had in common was Esperanza. Look it up.