Each
time I travel to Haiti, I think I am going to be the one giving so that
others can receive, but each experience proves to be the opposite; I am
always blessed abundantly by my time in
Haiti. Maybe it’s because I don’t expect to “get” anything from the trip
and go with a servant’s heart. If that is the reason, maybe I should
allow that to carry over into daily life here as well. I can imagine the
lessons and blessings I would realize. I’m unsure of what captivated my
heart most this past week. What I do know is everything will be forever
etched in my soul and not far from my mind.
I snuggled up in my big, soft, warm bed last night in my air conditioned house, mentally and physically exhausted, expecting to drift to sleep in a wink. Instead, thoughts and images of this past weeks’ happenings would not be repressed; I could not rest. My mind bounced back and forth with the eyes of hundreds of hungry Haitians staring back at me; they were hungry for more than just food. There were joyful eyes, fearful eyes, pain filled eyes, and sad eyes-some people displaying them all in a matter of minutes- all of them hungry for love, hungry for laughter, and hungry for somebody to care enough to actually do something.
I won’t forget the eyes of the 51 children we spent the day with at the “bad” orphanage, whose physical state brought even our translators to tears. They hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink for 4 days or more and barely had the energy to stare at us when we walked in. As one of our leaders explained to the “mommies” of the orphanage how alarmed we all were, it became apparent that hunger is but one of the many problems here. The “mommies” here are just kids themselves, between 15-17 years old. They were adopted by the “pastor” and “volunteer” to work at this orphanage without pay. They do as they are told and had to be bribed with money to allow us to finally go get an actual meal for the children and for them. As I held a “baby” girl in my arms and tried to feed her, I was told to put her down, that she could feed herself. When I inquired of her age, I learned that she was three years old! She appeared to be, at most, a year. Another boy begged our leader to take him with her. He was between 10-12 and was probably the child that most broke my heart this trip. His skeleton like features make me cringe, still, his arms no bigger around than my water hose outside. After allowing all the children to inhale enough food to feed me for at least 3 meals, it was time for our team to move on. I am left with the truth that my God loves these children as much as He loves me and with the hope and faith that He already has a rescue plan for each of them.
I also won’t forget the glazed look in the eyes of the little girl who came walking down the drive to the mission where we stayed, tear stains on her face, expressionless, holding out her hand. She was Addison’s age. While pumping water from a well, she somehow got her finger caught, cutting it off just below the first bend; it hung by the skin. She didn’t make a peep, but sat there trembling. There have been few times I’ve felt more helpless than this instant, wishing I could do something to at least help the pain. Because I couldn’t do anything to actually help her injury, I opted to give her a bottle of water and a lollipop. There were a couple of people on our team who have experience with wound care, so she continued to come back twice a day for the remainder of our stay to allow somebody to change her bandages and send her on her way, water and lollipop in hand.
The little mud house, serving as living space for an elderly man and his son and a woman with her many grandchildren, weighs on my heart as well. None had even a mattress to sleep on; the hard brown dirt floor was their bed. It was more like a shelter than a home and could hardly pass as even that. In talking with them through a translator, all they asked was that we pray that the Lord would continue to provide food for them. I elaborately planned (in my mind) how we could bring a team to build them a home and brainstormed ways to get them a mattress, or something at least up off the ground for their sleep. I reminded myself that most families live this way in Haiti in an attempt to normalize their situation and settle my thoughts. This only made my hopes even stronger that someday this would change for them all, that they would all walk in victory over the poverty that calls Haiti home.
While visiting another creche, I had the joy of attending a soccer tournament next door at Anna’s house, an orphanage dedicated to providing needs for those who not only lost their parents in the earthquake, but who also lost arms and legs. Many of the children there were missing a limb, but this didn’t stop them from enjoying life and playing sports. It was here that we met Chuck, an American man that we had the privilege of spending one of our afternoons with. Realizing that one of the most basic human needs, clean water, was scarce in most of Haiti, he decided to begin digging water wells and fixing wells that had been broken for years. His first trip to Haiti was nearly 30 years ago, and his organization, Water 4 Haiti, is still making a huge impact in the lives of many Haitians who wouldn’t have clean water if it weren’t for him.
The kids in Haiti melt my heart. The sweet little girl at Life Connection Mission was no exception. Five kids joined us for dinner one night to allow us to get to know them a little better and in hopes of gaining a sponsor for school this upcoming year. This little girl not only cleared her plate, but broke the end of her chicken leg off and began to eat the marrow. Talk about a reality check! I quickly learned that by sponsoring this child (for only $30 a month), she would have at least one good nourishing meal a day plus school supplies and a uniform. I also found out that for the amount of money I pay a babysitter for one date night, I could provide her whole family with enough rice and beans for the month. This definitely put into perspective how blessed beyond measure my family is to have all the food I can ever need and want.
Our final day there, as we were preparing to leave, an older man came walking down the way. He had 3rd degree burns on 70-80% of his body, many of them already broken open. We later learned that he had walked to the mission the night before, finding nobody who could help, and walked home. He came back the next morning, refusing to give up hope that somebody could help him. Our team was here, so our wound care expert took him to a clinic and began to treat his burns. Realizing it was outside of his realm of experience and a sense that something more needed to be done, 3 members of our team began a journey of finding help. A stop at the burn treatment center near PAP would not be their last. They were told that this man was critical, near death, and needed inpatient care. This led them to a hospital that agreed to take him in free of charge. As they got to spend time with this man, they learned that he had worked many jobs all his life in order to put his only daughter through nursing school. She was killed while in school when the earthquake hit Haiti. His grandson (her son) threw some gasoline on the fire the night before, unknowingly, causing an explosion that caught the grandfather on fire. Each day in Haiti, God seemed to be showing me more of the blessings he has bestowed on me-easily accessible and dependable medical care was one this day.
Our first day in Haiti was Sunday, so just as we would attend church at Journey, we attended church with Life Connection Mission, where we stayed. Little did I know that despite the language barrier, I would feel the presence of the Holy Spirit just as much as I do in my home church in Norman, Ok. These people LOVE our Lord. They depend on Him for everything. When they sang, they meant those words; they were more than just a song. It was a breath of fresh air to see a people so poor by American standards but bursting with richness in joy because they have the Lord. It made me re-think, once again, where my hope comes from and shifted my focus back to exactly where it needed to be.
Our last evening there, I had the privilege of giving one of our cooks a pedicure. I’ll never forget the look of gratitude on her face as she sat down in a chair outside, underneath a huge palm tree, right next to the ocean, and allowed me to serve her. She had been serving us all week; her entire days were spent cooking and going to market. I wonder when the last time was that she actually got to sit down and relax, taking in everything around her that God has made. When I finished, she hugged and kissed me and thanked me many times, barely waiting until her nails were dry to return to her evening duties of cleaning up from the dinner she has spent the afternoon preparing.
One of the highlights of my trip was our last day of vacation bible school. Each day prior, when we began, the toddlers would begin to cry as we approached because they wanted to be held. We quickly realized that if we just began to sing, they would stop crying , gather round, and join in. The only song they all knew in English was Jesus Loves Me, so we started with that each morning. That final day, as we came through the gate and began walking their way, without our prompting, they began to sing Jesus Loves Me and waiting patiently for us to join in. The beauty of their bright white smiles against their rich ebony skin and sound of their sweet little voices as they sang still brings chills to my skin! If they only knew what a blessing they were to me that day!
One day we went on a prayer walk throughout the nearby village. When we came across an older woman, too weak to stand, our interpreters told us that this woman had been sick for 8 years. When we inquired, we learned she had AIDS. She told us that she knew of the the woman in the Bible who was healed by faith from touching Jesus’ robe, hopeful that she too could be healed from her disease. Feeling led to share a scripture, James read Matthew 10:1- “Jesus called his twelve disciples to him and gave them authority to drive out impure spirits and to heal every disease and sickness.” Knowing that we too are called to be his disciples, many of our team realized that we had 12 members on this trip. We surrounded her and began to pray healing over this woman’s body. I can only imagine our next trip when we visit this woman again; I cannot wait to share in her joy as she celebrates victory over her illness through the healing power of Jesus.
While in Haiti, I definitely saw many things that have the ability to muffle out God’s calling on my life. Without remaining focused on God, I would feel unsettled and discouraged. It would be easy for me to believe that any trip I take or time I give is actually insignificant when compared to the need. With that being said, I choose not to focus on any of that stuff but instead to focus on God. I’m beginning to learn not to ask Him, “Why me?” or try to figure out reasons; Instead I will say, “Here am I-send me.” God has called our family to adopt from Haiti, and I am beyond excited to see God work through this entire process. It is a lengthy one with lots of red tape, but where some may see road blocks, I see opportunity for God’s glory to shine through. Many times I catch myself attempting to rationalize how this may play out, how many children our family will adopt, how Addison will adapt to the changes, and if our adopted child(ren) will even like us. The voice of God and His calling on my life are far stronger and weigh heavier, though, than any doubts I’ve ever had, and I choose to walk in the promises of God and to live my life for His glory. He has done so much for me, and the least I can do is trust His plan for my life.
I snuggled up in my big, soft, warm bed last night in my air conditioned house, mentally and physically exhausted, expecting to drift to sleep in a wink. Instead, thoughts and images of this past weeks’ happenings would not be repressed; I could not rest. My mind bounced back and forth with the eyes of hundreds of hungry Haitians staring back at me; they were hungry for more than just food. There were joyful eyes, fearful eyes, pain filled eyes, and sad eyes-some people displaying them all in a matter of minutes- all of them hungry for love, hungry for laughter, and hungry for somebody to care enough to actually do something.
I won’t forget the eyes of the 51 children we spent the day with at the “bad” orphanage, whose physical state brought even our translators to tears. They hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink for 4 days or more and barely had the energy to stare at us when we walked in. As one of our leaders explained to the “mommies” of the orphanage how alarmed we all were, it became apparent that hunger is but one of the many problems here. The “mommies” here are just kids themselves, between 15-17 years old. They were adopted by the “pastor” and “volunteer” to work at this orphanage without pay. They do as they are told and had to be bribed with money to allow us to finally go get an actual meal for the children and for them. As I held a “baby” girl in my arms and tried to feed her, I was told to put her down, that she could feed herself. When I inquired of her age, I learned that she was three years old! She appeared to be, at most, a year. Another boy begged our leader to take him with her. He was between 10-12 and was probably the child that most broke my heart this trip. His skeleton like features make me cringe, still, his arms no bigger around than my water hose outside. After allowing all the children to inhale enough food to feed me for at least 3 meals, it was time for our team to move on. I am left with the truth that my God loves these children as much as He loves me and with the hope and faith that He already has a rescue plan for each of them.
I also won’t forget the glazed look in the eyes of the little girl who came walking down the drive to the mission where we stayed, tear stains on her face, expressionless, holding out her hand. She was Addison’s age. While pumping water from a well, she somehow got her finger caught, cutting it off just below the first bend; it hung by the skin. She didn’t make a peep, but sat there trembling. There have been few times I’ve felt more helpless than this instant, wishing I could do something to at least help the pain. Because I couldn’t do anything to actually help her injury, I opted to give her a bottle of water and a lollipop. There were a couple of people on our team who have experience with wound care, so she continued to come back twice a day for the remainder of our stay to allow somebody to change her bandages and send her on her way, water and lollipop in hand.
The little mud house, serving as living space for an elderly man and his son and a woman with her many grandchildren, weighs on my heart as well. None had even a mattress to sleep on; the hard brown dirt floor was their bed. It was more like a shelter than a home and could hardly pass as even that. In talking with them through a translator, all they asked was that we pray that the Lord would continue to provide food for them. I elaborately planned (in my mind) how we could bring a team to build them a home and brainstormed ways to get them a mattress, or something at least up off the ground for their sleep. I reminded myself that most families live this way in Haiti in an attempt to normalize their situation and settle my thoughts. This only made my hopes even stronger that someday this would change for them all, that they would all walk in victory over the poverty that calls Haiti home.
While visiting another creche, I had the joy of attending a soccer tournament next door at Anna’s house, an orphanage dedicated to providing needs for those who not only lost their parents in the earthquake, but who also lost arms and legs. Many of the children there were missing a limb, but this didn’t stop them from enjoying life and playing sports. It was here that we met Chuck, an American man that we had the privilege of spending one of our afternoons with. Realizing that one of the most basic human needs, clean water, was scarce in most of Haiti, he decided to begin digging water wells and fixing wells that had been broken for years. His first trip to Haiti was nearly 30 years ago, and his organization, Water 4 Haiti, is still making a huge impact in the lives of many Haitians who wouldn’t have clean water if it weren’t for him.
The kids in Haiti melt my heart. The sweet little girl at Life Connection Mission was no exception. Five kids joined us for dinner one night to allow us to get to know them a little better and in hopes of gaining a sponsor for school this upcoming year. This little girl not only cleared her plate, but broke the end of her chicken leg off and began to eat the marrow. Talk about a reality check! I quickly learned that by sponsoring this child (for only $30 a month), she would have at least one good nourishing meal a day plus school supplies and a uniform. I also found out that for the amount of money I pay a babysitter for one date night, I could provide her whole family with enough rice and beans for the month. This definitely put into perspective how blessed beyond measure my family is to have all the food I can ever need and want.
Our final day there, as we were preparing to leave, an older man came walking down the way. He had 3rd degree burns on 70-80% of his body, many of them already broken open. We later learned that he had walked to the mission the night before, finding nobody who could help, and walked home. He came back the next morning, refusing to give up hope that somebody could help him. Our team was here, so our wound care expert took him to a clinic and began to treat his burns. Realizing it was outside of his realm of experience and a sense that something more needed to be done, 3 members of our team began a journey of finding help. A stop at the burn treatment center near PAP would not be their last. They were told that this man was critical, near death, and needed inpatient care. This led them to a hospital that agreed to take him in free of charge. As they got to spend time with this man, they learned that he had worked many jobs all his life in order to put his only daughter through nursing school. She was killed while in school when the earthquake hit Haiti. His grandson (her son) threw some gasoline on the fire the night before, unknowingly, causing an explosion that caught the grandfather on fire. Each day in Haiti, God seemed to be showing me more of the blessings he has bestowed on me-easily accessible and dependable medical care was one this day.
Our first day in Haiti was Sunday, so just as we would attend church at Journey, we attended church with Life Connection Mission, where we stayed. Little did I know that despite the language barrier, I would feel the presence of the Holy Spirit just as much as I do in my home church in Norman, Ok. These people LOVE our Lord. They depend on Him for everything. When they sang, they meant those words; they were more than just a song. It was a breath of fresh air to see a people so poor by American standards but bursting with richness in joy because they have the Lord. It made me re-think, once again, where my hope comes from and shifted my focus back to exactly where it needed to be.
Our last evening there, I had the privilege of giving one of our cooks a pedicure. I’ll never forget the look of gratitude on her face as she sat down in a chair outside, underneath a huge palm tree, right next to the ocean, and allowed me to serve her. She had been serving us all week; her entire days were spent cooking and going to market. I wonder when the last time was that she actually got to sit down and relax, taking in everything around her that God has made. When I finished, she hugged and kissed me and thanked me many times, barely waiting until her nails were dry to return to her evening duties of cleaning up from the dinner she has spent the afternoon preparing.
One of the highlights of my trip was our last day of vacation bible school. Each day prior, when we began, the toddlers would begin to cry as we approached because they wanted to be held. We quickly realized that if we just began to sing, they would stop crying , gather round, and join in. The only song they all knew in English was Jesus Loves Me, so we started with that each morning. That final day, as we came through the gate and began walking their way, without our prompting, they began to sing Jesus Loves Me and waiting patiently for us to join in. The beauty of their bright white smiles against their rich ebony skin and sound of their sweet little voices as they sang still brings chills to my skin! If they only knew what a blessing they were to me that day!
One day we went on a prayer walk throughout the nearby village. When we came across an older woman, too weak to stand, our interpreters told us that this woman had been sick for 8 years. When we inquired, we learned she had AIDS. She told us that she knew of the the woman in the Bible who was healed by faith from touching Jesus’ robe, hopeful that she too could be healed from her disease. Feeling led to share a scripture, James read Matthew 10:1- “Jesus called his twelve disciples to him and gave them authority to drive out impure spirits and to heal every disease and sickness.” Knowing that we too are called to be his disciples, many of our team realized that we had 12 members on this trip. We surrounded her and began to pray healing over this woman’s body. I can only imagine our next trip when we visit this woman again; I cannot wait to share in her joy as she celebrates victory over her illness through the healing power of Jesus.
While in Haiti, I definitely saw many things that have the ability to muffle out God’s calling on my life. Without remaining focused on God, I would feel unsettled and discouraged. It would be easy for me to believe that any trip I take or time I give is actually insignificant when compared to the need. With that being said, I choose not to focus on any of that stuff but instead to focus on God. I’m beginning to learn not to ask Him, “Why me?” or try to figure out reasons; Instead I will say, “Here am I-send me.” God has called our family to adopt from Haiti, and I am beyond excited to see God work through this entire process. It is a lengthy one with lots of red tape, but where some may see road blocks, I see opportunity for God’s glory to shine through. Many times I catch myself attempting to rationalize how this may play out, how many children our family will adopt, how Addison will adapt to the changes, and if our adopted child(ren) will even like us. The voice of God and His calling on my life are far stronger and weigh heavier, though, than any doubts I’ve ever had, and I choose to walk in the promises of God and to live my life for His glory. He has done so much for me, and the least I can do is trust His plan for my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment