Glory in the highest, glory in the lowest, Emmanuel

Sisyphus at Christmas: Greetings from the Nelsons in Guatemala ❤️

Dear friends,

Jeff and I did a rare thing this week and left our kids home alone overnight so we could climb Volcán Acatenango together. We have both done it before, and in fact Jeff (❤️☠️) is accustomed to running it, but the chance to go up together with friends on what appeared to be a perfectly clear day was too good to miss. The girls have never stayed home alone before, but Cora is basically our extra adult, and other than the bus driver briefly forgetting to pick them up for school on Tuesday morning when we were out of cell-range, it went FINE.

I’m a late-comer to hiking, and exercise in general. I think I had to learn to like to suffer a little bit, and mature into the capacity to imagine how I’d feel after it was over (i.e. better). We had about five hours of trudging straight uphill on Monday, and I was at the back of the line most of the time, with some really nice moments of quiet to just listen to the wind and hear myself breathe, and it occurred to me that maybe the hiking and the missionary work go hand in hand. Here I am, in my mid-40’s in this exotically broken and beautiful place, torturing myself to climb a volcano I can see from my bedroom window, with an understanding that it would somehow be wonderful and that God’s goodness would be manifest in the doing. Hard but absolutely worth it and a privilege to have the opportunity to even try.

So, with that, here are a few ways the last year has been good and hard and hilarious and broken…

Good.

I started the diabetes fund, and it took OFF. So many people gave so generously, and Jeff’s therapy practice added a few paying clients which also contributes to the stability of the fund. Mario got his new leg, and the rest of my patients got more consistent access to insulin, which I would call a miracle but it was also just the working out of the generosity and compassion of God’s people. I’m still sort of blown away by what a difference it made.

Hard.

There was so much violence this year. Gangs are killing (and extorting and raping and terrifying) each other, worsening poverty and the corruption that go hand in hand. It is the weakest and most vulnerable of people that are suffering the most, although it is good for me to remember that everyone is suffering, including the teenagers and adults in the gangs that are doing so much of the extortion and killing. Nobody wins in a world of violence.

None of that is new, though, and this is perhaps not the worst year for violence in recent memory, but for whatever reason it weighs so heavily on me. We feel pretty hopeless in the face of such intractable poverty and brokenness, and I’ll be honest that the large, powerful world outside of the garbage dump seems less and less interested in justice and mercy for the poor. We are a little (lot) burned out, so pray for energy and the renewing work of God’s presence as we push through the winter and spring toward home assignment next summer.

Hilarious.

Our last newsletter was about parenting, so I won’t repeat all of that, but these GIRLS. We are enjoying these years so much. All three of them are extraordinary people, funny and wise and brilliant in their own ways. I was thinking the other night about how so much of our life structure has been built around providing stability for them, and that actually they provide stability for us as well. I’ve had some moments over the last year where, if not for the happy flourishing of our kids here, we might have pulled the plug and gone home. They are our greatest blessing and it is such a gift to walk alongside them and watch as God forms and grows them.

Broken.

We have a running joke that someday when I write the memoir of our time here, the title will be “Everything Broke”. This joke kills with expats, and it spans the reality of third-rate appliances ruined by a messy electrical system and hard water, to shoddy construction leading to roofs crumbling and doors falling out of their frames, to heartbreaking relationships with Guatemalans whose chaotic lives have made healing and change feel impossibly distant.

Our work is so focused on chronic, endemic problems, and we struggle with the idea that we can “fix” anything. The trauma, depression and anxiety that Jeff deals with in therapy is likewise (usually) intractable, but he continues to walk with people and push back against the darkness. Diabetes can’t be cured, or even managed well in a setting of severe poverty, but I’m still scrambling up that hill. I think I say a version of this every year, but the point is not actually to win or to pile up successful numbers. I think the point is to know God by long obedience in the same direction, to understand that His mercy is truly never-ending and that joy cometh in the morning.

David Brooks wrote an essay last week, describing the shock of faith as an experience of transcendent joy in the presence of something bigger than himself. He quoted a book of Puritan prayers and this is a good encapsulation of walking with Jesus in the valley of the shadow:

Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up,

That to be low is to be high,

That the broken heart is the healed heart,

That the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,

That the repenting soul is the victorious soul.

In spite of all that has been hard and heartbreaking this year, there has been so much joy, and we are closing out the year feeling content and grateful. I will put a list of some numbers and needs we have below, but let me just say how deeply thankful we are for all of you that follow along with these letters, pray for us, and support our work. It is a source of hope for us always to remember that we are not doing this work alone, that the generosity of so many people can reach so far and do so much.

Merry Christmas!

With so much love,

Abbie & Jeff and the girls

Metrics, Blessings, Answered Prayers:

—Diabetes program stats: 250 regular patients, 40% with renal disease but most of whom are stable, which is a huge win. I saw 9 diabetic foot ulcers turn around this year, each one representing a saved leg, saved livelihood, and a saved life.

—Jeff’s therapy practice continues to thrive. He is seeing a mix of mission workers, Guatemalans doing ministry work, and various and sundry other people around that have been thrilled to find a bilingual psychologist working here. He has seen a couple of troubled marriages turn around this year, and other small wins that remind us that it’s worth it to keep going.

—Guatemala is enjoying a period of relative peace and stability, having elected and then inaugurated a seemingly just and good man to the presidency earlier this year.

—Our kids are healthy, emotionally and physically, and growing in grace and beauty.

—I am half-way through a doctoral program (public health and nursing) at Johns Hopkins, a great blessing and opportunity to get better at the work I am doing in Guatemala.

Needs and Ways to Keep Praying:

—While the diabetes fund is healthy, OUR fund is pretty dry. We lost two supporting churches this year (one had a serious giving shortfall, and the second one actually closed). Pray for robust end of the year giving and new donors to sign up or current donors to increase a bit to make up the shortfall.

—Pray for our burnout. Feels like we’re in that section of a marathon where you’re SO tired and just want to walk away but you’ve still got miles to go, so pray for renewal and encouragement where we need it.

—Pray for Guatemala, particularly as we face what could be very destabilizing changes to the economy if mass deportations and cutting off of remittances actually happens this year.

—Pray for the Guatemalan church, which struggles with false gospels, crises of leadership, and all the attendant messiness of being the Church in the world.

Finally, this is the most best Christmas song anywhere. Makes me tear up every time. Enjoy.