"What can you do for the deaf and the blind?" This was the question I heard in my spirit.  It was as if the Lord himself asked me the question. 
      It was mid-Sunday morning; Leslie called me from doing Ultra Sounds, and asked me to do general consults for the sick. So, I stepped into the next room and sat next to a woman with diabetes. She was a beautiful indigenous woman, adorned in beautiful local Guatemalan garb. As I spoke with her, I noticed that she wasn't looking or focusing on me as I spoke. I looked at Leslie and asked, "Is this woman blind?"
"Yes,"  Leslie replied, "She's blind due to her advanced diabetes."

So there I was again with the question reverberating through my spirit, "What can you do for the deaf and the blind?" Parts of Isaiah 42 came swiftly to my mind :

 I will take hold of your hand.
I will keep you and will make you
   to be a covenant for the people
   and a light for the Gentiles,
⁷ to open eyes that are blind,
   to free captives from prison
   and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness.
 ⁸ “I am the LORD; that is my name!
   I will not yield my glory to another
   or my praise to idols...


 And I knew I had to pray. I knew without prayer I had nothing to offer. I had no medicine to cure her blindness. I had no words that could open her eyes. But God has the power to open blind eyes! God has the power to make the deaf ears unstopped. God has the power to free the captives!

So I touched her eyes, and I prayed. And then I tested her "Can you see how many fingers?" She couldn't. And so I prayed again, "Can you see how many fingers?" Again she couldn't. This process went on for a while and each time she couldn't tell me how many fingers. Oh how badly I wanted her to see. Oh how badly I wanted her to jump up and say "I can see!" But she didn't. Her eyes were the same. I felt like a failure.

  But as I continued to pray, and talk with her she asked me for food. So, I ran over to our food bin, pulled two bags full of uncooked rice and beans, and placed them delicately into her hands. "Gracias," she said, among other things, and we said our goodbyes...her face ingrained in my mind. " At least I was able to love on her," I thought. "At least I had the opportunity to pray with her." And a saying replays in my mind from the House of Prayer in St. Louis "This is the school of intercession. This is the school of intercession." 

Yes, I am in the school of praying for healing. I am in the school of missionary work. I am learning. I am learning, one step at a time. And I'm not giving up.