News Articles by Tristan Taylor

SÃO PAULO, Brazil (BP) -- Chris Julian could not do his job without food. "I think it's vital," Julian, an IMB missionary in Brazil, said. "We have found that food is such a connection. Food is such an icebreaker. It's just a natural thing."

Read the other stories in this package: Dying Paraguay mission hospital is transformed, given new life Paraguay Baptist clinics treat, minister to poor ASUNCIÓN, Paraguay (BP) — At only 5 years old, Tatiana Benítez was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy, a severe heart condition. Doctors told her parents that without a transplant, the Paraguayan girl would […]

Read the other stories in this package: Dying Paraguay mission hospital is transformed, given new life Baptist hospital implants new heart, new hope ASUNCIÓN, Paraguay (BP) — When Edith Cáceres de González says she loves Paraguay’s indigenous Maká people, she means it. The Paraguayan nurse has spent her career working full time among the Maká, […]

ASUNCIÓN, Paraguay (BP) -- Marlin Harris' mission was clear in 1988 when he arrived in Paraguay as a Southern Baptist missionary: guide the transition of the mission hospital into a Paraguayan-run Baptist institution. But during one of Harris' first meetings with the Paraguayan Baptist leaders, a convention leader stood and said, "There's an elephant in this room, and that is that you all are trying to give to us the Baptist hospital. And it's in such bad shape, we don't want it." "Man," Harris realized, "we've got a long way to go here." Harris, who had helped administer hospitals in Mississippi and Texas, assessed the hospital's needs. The accounting system needed to be completely reworked for financial soundness. But more importantly, the administration needed to be reorganized to involve the Paraguayans more in management. Harris identified key leaders with the conceptual ability and the maturity to handle more responsibility, he said, but realized he needed one more person in place. A contact put Harris in touch with an Argentine pastor's son named Ernesto Simari, a solid businessman who wanted to work in ministry. Harris hired Simari as his assistant. "It was an adventure of faith, knowing that I was answering a call from God," Simari said. "We started working under a participatory leadership, and we defined the vision and the mission of the hospital, which gave us a clear view of where we needed to go." Shortly after Simari's arrival, Harris and his family returned to the United States to care for Harris' ill mother. The hospital was left in the care of Simari and the new Paraguayan management. It was almost a year before Harris was able to return. "I remember when I walked [back] into the hospital," Harris says. "I could just feel things were different. ... They were able to move forward." The struggling mission hospital had transformed into a full medical center with a reputation for excellent medical care and fair business dealings. It was this credibility that inspired a group of local medical professionals from non-evangelical institutions to approach Harris with an idea. "They said, 'We want to start a heart institute, and we don't feel like any other institution in the city could pull it off except this institution,'" Harris says. Harris and Simari had not considered taking the medical center in such a specialized direction, but they couldn't ignore the significance of the request. To generate the revenue needed for financial stability, the medical center already was building 20 private patient rooms. Creating a heart institute meant taking on an additional million-dollar project. "It was risky at the time," Harris said. "But it was just a decision of faith, and we felt like God wanted us to do it."

Read the other stories in this package: Dying Paraguay mission hospital is transformed, given new life Paraguay Baptist clinics treat, minister to poor ASUNCIÓN, Paraguay (BP) — At only 5 years old, Tatiana Benítez was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy, a severe heart condition. Doctors told her parents that without a transplant, the Paraguayan girl would […]

Read the other stories in this package: Dying Paraguay mission hospital is transformed, given new life Baptist hospital implants new heart, new hope ASUNCIÓN, Paraguay (BP) — When Edith Cáceres de González says she loves Paraguay’s indigenous Maká people, she means it. The Paraguayan nurse has spent her career working full time among the Maká, […]

ASUNCIÓN, Paraguay (BP) -- Marlin Harris' mission was clear in 1988 when he arrived in Paraguay as a Southern Baptist missionary: guide the transition of the mission hospital into a Paraguayan-run Baptist institution. But during one of Harris' first meetings with the Paraguayan Baptist leaders, a convention leader stood and said, "There's an elephant in this room, and that is that you all are trying to give to us the Baptist hospital. And it's in such bad shape, we don't want it." "Man," Harris realized, "we've got a long way to go here." Harris, who had helped administer hospitals in Mississippi and Texas, assessed the hospital's needs. The accounting system needed to be completely reworked for financial soundness. But more importantly, the administration needed to be reorganized to involve the Paraguayans more in management. Harris identified key leaders with the conceptual ability and the maturity to handle more responsibility, he said, but realized he needed one more person in place. A contact put Harris in touch with an Argentine pastor's son named Ernesto Simari, a solid businessman who wanted to work in ministry. Harris hired Simari as his assistant. "It was an adventure of faith, knowing that I was answering a call from God," Simari said. "We started working under a participatory leadership, and we defined the vision and the mission of the hospital, which gave us a clear view of where we needed to go." Shortly after Simari's arrival, Harris and his family returned to the United States to care for Harris' ill mother. The hospital was left in the care of Simari and the new Paraguayan management. It was almost a year before Harris was able to return. "I remember when I walked [back] into the hospital," Harris says. "I could just feel things were different. ... They were able to move forward." The struggling mission hospital had transformed into a full medical center with a reputation for excellent medical care and fair business dealings. It was this credibility that inspired a group of local medical professionals from non-evangelical institutions to approach Harris with an idea. "They said, 'We want to start a heart institute, and we don't feel like any other institution in the city could pull it off except this institution,'" Harris says. Harris and Simari had not considered taking the medical center in such a specialized direction, but they couldn't ignore the significance of the request. To generate the revenue needed for financial stability, the medical center already was building 20 private patient rooms. Creating a heart institute meant taking on an additional million-dollar project. "It was risky at the time," Harris said. "But it was just a decision of faith, and we felt like God wanted us to do it."

RIO DE JANEIRO, Brazil (BP) -- "When people die, is it like this?" Peter Moreira Esteves wondered.       Peter, then 18, was bleeding from a bullet wound in his shoulder as two police officers shoved him against the outer wall of a shack in a thicket.

RIO DE JANEIRO, Brazil (BP) -- It weighs on his heart: One day, he will go out to share the Gospel and not come back. IMB missionary Eric Reese serves on one of the most dangerous mission fields in South America -- the gang-controlled favelas (slums) of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.