The view from outside Pastor Edgar’s church — warm sun, steady work, and a new week beginning.
Monday it was time to start again. This week our first two clinic days were held at Pastor Edgar’s church, and right away I noticed the pace — and the needs — felt different here. I met a new translator, Caleb, and we quickly settled into a good rhythm as we began seeing patients.
I worked outside in a tent, which turned out to be lovely. The sun was warm, the air was bright, and it made the long hours feel a little lighter. Ric, however, wasn’t quite as lucky — he was set up in the kitchen, higher up a steep set of steps, and it was much colder where he was. We joked throughout the day about our completely opposite “clinics.”
The patient population was different in this part of Cusco. It’s a very poor area, and the stories people shared were often heavy. I saw one woman who was deeply unhappy about being pregnant, carrying a burden that felt far beyond what she could manage. Another lady’s blood sugar was 30 mmol/L, dangerously high, and she needed urgent help. Days like this remind me just how complicated and fragile health can be when resources are limited.
Lunch was cooked by Dora, whom we met last year during the Extreme Project. She helped with the eye clinics back then, and it was lovely to see her again — her food was nourishing, but her kindness even more so.
By the time we arrived back at the hotel, I realized I wasn’t feeling well. I took a long, hot shower while Ric played Skip-Bo and later went down for dinner. Sometimes even the smallest comforts — warmth, water, rest — feel like a gift.
Reflection
Today reminded me that ministry doesn’t look the same in every place, but the need is always the same — people longing to be heard, valued, and cared for. The heavy stories we encountered were mixed with grace-filled moments: the sunshine on the tent, Dora’s kindness in cooking for us, and the steady teamwork that carried the day. Even ending the day feeling a bit unwell, I was grateful — grateful that God uses small efforts, ordinary conversations, and imperfect days to bring comfort and hope.