10 Carry Your Candle

in the Darkness

Although Dale felt distressed at the thought of losing the faithful service of Steven, he
couldnt criticize the man for wanting to get out on his own again. After all, no one knew how
long Maranatha would continue to function, and when it came to an end everyone would have to
go somewhere else. Dale went over to his house to discuss his situation with him.
Steven, have you found a place to live in Puerto Inca?
Yes, I found a lot with a small house in town for sale. The house isnt in very good
condition, but I can fix it up. I would also like to add another room so that Mary can have her
own bedroom. Could she stay here with you until I get the house ready?
We will be delighted to have Mary stay. She is very helpful, and she will always be
welcome here. How much is your house and lot going to cost?
About a hundred dollars, he replied with a bit of concern in his voice.
Do you have enough money to pay for it?
No, not yet. But I think the owner will let me pay by installments. I plan to work as a
traveling salesman, and as I earn some money I can pay off the house.
Steven, that sounds like a pretty shaky proposition to me. You might earn barely enough
to keep food on the table. We dont want you to leave Maranatha empty handed, so well help
you buy your house. And I can help you build that extra room, too.
Oh, thank you! Youre so kind, he said as he beamed from ear to ear.
But first Ill need your help a little longer, Dale continued. I must go to the American
Consulate in Lima to get a new passport since a thief stole mine. I dont want the girls to be here
alone, so would you be willing to stay here while Im gone?
Oh, yes! he willingly agreed. Ill be glad to do that.
And so Dale went back to Pucallpa where he got a dose of bureaucratic red tape and delays
before he was able to go on to Lima. His report to the police had to be presented on official
paper. This was lined paper with a special seal or stamp on it that was printed in the government
printing office. Dale bought a sheet of this legal paper and typed out his report of how, when,
and where his passport had been stolen. He took this to the police station and handed it to the
officer at the desk, who read it over gravely. Then he got out a huge bound book with blank
pages. For some unknown reason (probably just custom) all this information would have to be
written by hand in this book. He had all the information before him neatly typed out that he
could have copied, but no, instead he asked Dale for each item of information as he wrote it
down. When he got through, Dale had to sign his name and apply his fingerprints.
Next the police officer sat down at a typewriter to prepare a certified copy of the report that
Dale could take with him to present at police checkpoints along the way and at the immigration
office in Lima. Just then the power failed and the lights went out, so the officer said, Come back
tomorrow. The office opens at 8:00. Dale thought that should be early enough to complete the
certified copy before the morning bus would leave at 10:00, so he went to the bus depot and
bought his ticket.
In the morning Dale went back to the police station shortly after it opened to finish up his
business there. The officer on duty typed up the copy for him, but then he couldnt find the chief
who was supposed to sign the copy, and nobody seemed to know where he had gone nor when
he would be back. Dale heard the familiar words, Come back tomorrow. He looked distressed
as he responded, But my bus is going to leave in an hour! When they heard that, they took pity
on him and decided that maybe somebody else could sign it after all, so somebody else did, and
they stamped it with their official seal, and farther down the line nobody knew the difference.
In Lima, Dale went to the American Embassy to find out how he could get a replacement
passport, and he found out that his experience was far from unique. A sign on the wall showed
how many tourists had lost their passports in Peru during the previous six months, and the
average was about 20 per month. He filled out an application, got his picture taken, paid a
passport fee, and the next morning at 10:00 AM it was ready for him. Then he took it to the
Peruvian immigration office to get a duplicate of his lost tourist visa, and that fortunately turned
out to be much easier than he expected it to be.
Before returning home he went to the Inca Union Mission offices where he met Dwight
Taylor, the director of OFASA (now known as ADRA Peru). Dwight asked him if his wife could
use some medical supplies out at Maranatha. Why yes, she certainly could. Usually donated
items are things like cold tablets, headache pills, and band-aids, but this time it was different.
Dwight gave him a whole case of PVM, a protein-vitamin-mineral powder for treating
malnutrition. There was also Ringers lactate and other IV fluids as well as lots of worm medicine
to treat the most common health problem in the jungle. Nurse Patti would be thrilled to get this.
And it was all free! Dwight wanted to give him so much that Dale finally had to cry out, Stop!
This is wonderful stuff, but I cant handle any more boxes!
As Dale thought about this marvelous windfall, the realization began to dawn on him that
he would not have received any of it if he had not come to Lima at this time, and he would not
have come if his passport had not been stolen. Once again he could see how true it was that all
things work together for good to those that love God, to them who are called according to His
purpose.1
* * *
God was also working for them in another way which they didnt recognize immediately.
Actually it had started about four months pre-viously when a young man came to Maranatha
with a complaint of hoarseness and general malaise. Patti started a chart for him, and he said his
name was Leider. She couldnt figure out what was wrong with this 23-year-old single male who
should have been in robust health. He had a scar on his leg from a previous case of
leishmaniasis, so she thought this might be a recurrence that had migrated to his throat. She
would have to keep an eye on that possibility, so she made a note of it on his chart. She treated
his symptoms and told him to come back if he got worse.
Now during Dales absence he did come back, and he obviously was worse than before. As
she watched the now gaunt figure struggling up the path gasping for breath, she noted
immediately the certain sallow look that she had learned to recognize, and her first thought was,
Oh, oh, another case of TB! She took his history and checked him over. He was down to 95
pounds, a loss of 30 pounds. He had a bad cough. Pulse 150. Respirations 70. And he was
having night sweats. Yes, the picture was clear now. He had a full-blown case of tuberculosis,
and he would have to go to Puerto Inca to the public health unit there to get the medicine he
would need.

1
See Romans 8:28.
 Leider pleaded, Can I come back and stay here at Maranatha after I get my medicine?
No, Leider, we arent set up to have patients stay here, Patti responded almost
automatically. But then she looked into his longing eyes and was reminded of Steven and Mary.
She had been praying that God would send them someone to replace Steven now that he was
moving to town, and she suddenly felt an almost overwhelming sense that God wanted this
young man to stay. Her attitude softened as she continued, Well, Ill have to talk to my husband
about it, so you can stay at least until he gets back from Lima.
When Dale returned and met Leider, he was thrilled. He too felt that this was Gods answer
to their prayers. So what if Leider was physically debilitated and couldnt do much? They had
come to this place to help the needy, and this certainly was another soul in need. Besides, after
witnessing Marys rapid recovery, they had confidence that his recovery would also be dramatic
with good treatment and good food.
Leider was very shy, and the first Sabbath he didnt even venture out of his room during
Sabbath School. By the following week he was feeling more comfortable with what was going on
at Maranatha, and from then on he regularly attended all religious activities. He also needed to
carry some responsibilities in order to sense that he really was a part of the group now, so Dale
put him in charge of feeding the chickens, a job that required very little physical exertion but had
to be done every day. He made a good recovery and before long was able to help with heavier
work as well.
* * *
By now Patti knew very well what to do for TB patients. More frightening for her were the
cases of vomiting and diarrhea that were all too common. That can debilitate a person so rapidly,
and it is especially dangerous in small children like little baby Walker. He was brought in very
badly dehydrated. He would soon die unless he quickly received some fluids to replace what he
was losing. Patti tried desperately to get an IV started, but to no avail. He was too far gone, and
his veins had disappeared. Oh, Lord, help me! she breathed. What else can I do? Then
suddenly an idea popped into her head, or perhaps we should say a divine hand put it there. She
knew that the intestines are very absorbing organs of the body. I wonder if maybe She pulled
the needle off the end of the IV tubing in her hand, and then in desperation she quickly but
gently inserted that tubing right up the rectum into the intestine of the baby boy. She had never
heard of doing such a thing, but it was worth a try. She turned on the IV, and as that precious
life-saving fluid steadily dripped into the tubing and slowly ran into the intestine, it stayed in.
And it worked, too. In a few hours Walker went home completely recovered.
Patti never claimed to be anything but a nurse working for God as her medical director, but
as her work grew, the appreciative people she served began addressing her as Doctora, the
Spanish way of referring to a respected female physician.
* * *
One day a silver speedboat came zooming up to their landing. A young man quickly got out
and hurried up the path. He was one of the local paramedics whom the government had trained
to give first aid and simple medications to the people of these isolated areas.
Is the Doctora here? he inquired, and then he continued in an urgent tone, We have a
man here who is dying!
That announcement was like pulling the trigger of a gun that sent Dale flying down the path
to the boat. He helped to lift out the crumpled form of a young man and carry him up the path to
the clinic. They laid him on the floor of the waiting room, and Patti came over to check him.
After listening to his heart and lungs, she commented, He doesnt sound like hes dying.
Theres something strange heremight be psycho-logical.
She couldnt quite put her finger on what was wrong, but there was definitely something
weird about this case. He wouldntor couldnttalk. He just kept his teeth clenched tightly
together, and a white frothy discharge kept oozing out of his mouth, which his companions
would wipe away for him.
Patti put her hand under his head and asked him to relax, but he wouldnt cooperate. His
body remained rigid. Whats going on here? she wondered. And then for the first time she noticed
the dirty bandage on his bare foot. Quickly she pulled it off exposing an ugly machete cut about
four inches long. It had been sewed up, but the wound must not have been well cleaned, for it
was obvious that it was now badly infected.
She turned to the paramedic. Did you suture this? she asked, and he nodded. Did you
give him a tetanus shot?
No, I didnt have any, he responded.
Lock jaw! Could it be? No, it seemed impossible. Thats the sort of horrible thing you only studied
about ages ago in nurses training, but you never saw an actual case. She hurried into the next room to
consult her books, and the description of tetanus she read gave a perfect picture of the poor
young man lying there on the floor. The rigid arched back. The locked jaws. The frothing
mouth. Deep tendon reflexes hyperactive.
She hadnt checked his reflexes yet, so she went back to where he was lying and lifted his
leg. She tapped the tendon just below the kneecap, and he just about kicked her in the face. Yes,
his reflexes were hyperactive all right, and there was no doubt they had a full-blown case of
tetanus on their hands.
The seizures he went through were terrible. When he had an attack he couldnt talk. In fact,
he couldnt breathe. His hands would clutch at them desperately as his eyes seemed to plead,
Please help me! The paramedic would press down hard on his chest to force a little air in and out
of his lungs. After one of the seizures had passed and he could talk again, he asked, Doctora,
am I going to die?
Patti knew the prognosis was very poor. Her reference book suggested injecting a massive
dose of 40,000 to 60,000 units of tetanus antitoxin as the only thing that might help a littleand
all she had was five little bottles of 1,500 units each. She told him as gently as she could that
there was very little hope for him unless God would intervene with a miracle, and she suggested
that he make sure everything was right between him and his God. Now is the time of Gods
favor, now is the day of salvation, was the message in the Bible for him. 2 Then she knelt beside
him and prayed for him.
When she finished praying, he made the sign of the cross. Several minutes later he said,
Estoy tranquilo ahora. (Im tranquil now.) She smiled at him, for she thought that he meant
the tranquilizer she had given him was working, and that he was resting and feeling a little
better. But he realized that she didnt quite understand, so he pointed upward as he continued,
No, Im at peace with God.
Pucallpa was the nearest place where the patient could get a massive dose of antitoxin, so
Patti advised the relatives to try to get a plane to fly him to the city. The speedboat took them to
Puerto Inca to make the arrange-ments, and then they returned with the news that the plane
would arrive in about an hour. They strapped the patient to Dales little camp cot to use as an
improvised stretcher and carried him down to the boat. Bonnie went along to help take care of
him. On the way he had such a severe seizure that she thought he had died, but he finally started
breathing again. They had just a short wait at the airport before the plane arrived to take him to
the city.
A few days later word came back that the poor man had died on the half-hour flight to
Pucallpa. It made the Duerksens sad, knowing that his death could have been prevented so
easily if he had come to Maranatha Clinic immediately after cutting his foot instead of waiting a

2
See 2 Corinthians 6:2.
week. At the same time, however, they felt comforted by the knowledge that he had not waited
too long to commit his life to God.