When we arrived and were reunited with the Velasquez’, one of the girls, Lucia, was not present. We innocently asked where she was, never fathoming the answer. Diego, the father, tearfully related the events. Let me add here that our sending organization, our church, had decided to collect and send flip-flops with our team on this follow-up trip. In my mind I was thinking, “what good will flimsy flip-flops do?” So Diego told us the agonizing story of Lucia’s suffering. Lucia, while performing her usual daily chores, stepped on a thorn which penetrated her foot. He scooped her up in his arms and frantically ran as hard as he could in an attempt to get her to the closest medical care. The distance was far and Lucia died on the way. Would the outcome have been different if she had a pair of those flimsy flip-flops?

Fast forward 13 years, to 2016. I woke up one morning and the words “mobile medical clinic” came pouring out of my mouth. “What in the world does ‘mobile medical clinic’ mean?” After much prayer and petition, I earnestly started devising a plan to set up mobile medical clinics around Lodwar, Kenya, where I had visited on multiple missions with SERV International. I had no idea how it would actually come together, I had no network to pull from, no resources at my call, but I felt God was in it, so it had to work out. Didn’t it? I made plans, talked to servant after servant and was ready to take the initial step. Then I meet a lady who worked in Kenya. She told me, “we have mobile clinics already, it’s not needed.” What?? So what did I do…I dropped the idea like a mike at the end of an encore. I had some pangs of guilt off and on over the following years. How many people suffered because I didn’t follow the call? Fast forward another 7 years and I am convinced that delivery of this long-awaited baby is close.