Today was one of the hardest days I’ve had at the clinic.

So many starving children. As word spreads over the mountains from Tapio and beyond, more families are making the long, difficult journey to find help. Today, a father walked six hours with his two-year-old daughter. She weighed only 11 pounds and was suffering from severe kwashiorkor. Her condition was heartbreaking. And she wasn’t the only one—there were three other children just as malnourished.

It’s rare for us to see babies who are even close to a normal weight.

We technically have numbers for 30 patients per clinic day, but we’re seeing close to 40 now. It’s only four hours of clinic, but by the time we finish, my feet are throbbing with pain. I don’t even know how I used to manage eight-hour shifts in the U.S.—but then again, I had time to sit and chart back home. Here, there’s no time to sit. It’s constant movement, constant need.

I started a new book today called Change Me, Lord. It’s already been such a blessing—full of truth and reflection. It’s helping me process the day and calm my mind before bed. I think God is using it to speak to my heart.

In my spare moments, I’ve been planting flowers around the house. The sun here is so intense that it’s hard to grow many of the beautiful flowers I love, but I’m trying. I’ve managed to get quite a few porch plants going, and they’re growing nicely. I try to water them daily and give them the best chance I can.

The porch—and the house—are full of lizards. They crawl on the walls and help out by eating mosquitoes, so I don’t mind them too much. There are also lots of frogs and some giant spiders that show up from time to time. Life here is definitely full of surprises.

I hope you girls are doing well. I think about you often and am so looking forward to your visit soon. It will be such a joy to see your faces and share this place with you.

Love, Mom