In full disclosure, this entry is not a happy story. It involves the death of a child. And if you are the sort who cannot bear to read of such events, I encourage you please do not read this. I am writing it not merely because it was horrific and troubling, but because God spoke to me through it. In medicine, it is easy to get lost in our accomplishments. Toward the end of my time in Bangladesh, I fell into this trap, thinking to myself, "How many lives have I saved since I have been here?" God forgive me. I have no power to save lives. I have never saved a life. Only the Lord heals. On the last full clinical day of my stay, I went to the physician's room after lunch to do reading on typhoid when one of the nurses came in to inform me they were currently doing an emergent c-section on a 29 weeker, and my presence would be appreciated. My heart sank. In the States a baby born at 29 weeks stands a good chance of doing well. In Bangladesh, our hospital does not ha
Two physicians and their little explorers sharing the love of Christ through medicine.