We save a lot of lives.

Yep, I said it. We’re good at what we do, and we save a lot of lives.

But you know what? That’s not the most important thing that we do.

… Wait, what? Isn’t your mission to eliminate preventable child deaths?

Yes, it is. But bear with me here for a minute.

Many of you may know that a big part of my job is to communicate with the world about the work of CHM through emails, social media, and the like. And let me tell you, my job is so much easier when I have an arsenal of dramatic success stories to share of children who were on the brink of death and were brought back to life by the life-saving work of our clinic staff. It’s just easier – and much happier – to tell the stories of babies and children who are healed – stories where I can share about the difficult beginning, the hard work our staff put in, and then share the happily-ever-after ending filled with hope, much like wrapping up a gift with a big, pretty bow.

But what about the children who don’t make it?

What about the lives we can’t save, no matter how hard we try?

Are those children not an integral part of our story as well, as important to the mission as all the others who go home healed and whole?

I was reminded of this question again recently as our staff cared for premature baby Moïse.

Moïse was born approximately 10 weeks early. He was found on the ground on a gravel road by a pair of women in a town about 15 miles from our clinic. The poor little thing had ant bites all over his neck from being on the ground.

The ladies who found Moïse brought him to a nearby clinic run by some friends of ours. Seeing that he needed to be in a NICU, they called us and the transfer was made via ambulance. He weighed just 2 pounds 12 ounces at his admission.

I thought right away about what a great story Moïse’s would be to share the incredible work of our Haitian staff and the life-saving capabilities of the NICU. We could tell his story to get more support for the NICU so we could save even more babies. Add in the redeeming story of him being adopted by one of the women who found him, and I would have another wonderful story to share, all wrapped up in a bow.

The infection Moïse was fighting turned out to be too much for his tiny body, and he passed away a few days after he was admitted to our NICU. Everyone was crushed, including the thousands of people on social media who had been praying for him.

My frustrated, worldly-success-focused self asked, not for the first time, what was the point in all of that if his life couldn’t be saved anyway?

But God reminded me that our successes will not always be something of this world. We fulfilled our mission with Moïse and gave him the best care we possibly could: Our NICU was there to give him a warm, comfortable place to rest. Our staff was there to give him the medications he needed to give him a fighting chance at survival. Our doors were open to give his adoptive mother somewhere to take her tiny new son so he didn’t have to suffer at home.

Jesus says in Matthew 25:35-36,40, “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. … Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

Jesus did not say, when you save the lives of the sick you save My life – He said when you care for the sick you care for Me.

We are not called to save every child who walks through our doors.

That almost feels heretical to say, but it’s true. God has not given us power over life and death, and He does not expect us to be able to save every child.

The real calling of CHM is to care for sick babies and their families with dignity and compassion, to be the hands and feet of Jesus to a grieving mother or terrified father, to walk alongside hungry families and to show them the kind of love and mercy that we would want to show Jesus Himself.

That we are able to wrap every child’s story with a pretty bow of success is not the point – the point is to say to malnourished children, premature babies, sick infants, and their families: We see you. The world has not been kind to you, but we see you, we care about your life, and we will fight for you.

We saw you, Moïse, we cared for you, and we fought for you. And ultimately, God called you home.