strength & hope out of the rubble

Leaving the Dominican Republic and driving to Haiti was to leave life as we know it behind us, and drive straight into a life that will be lived minute to minute, not knowing what each day holds; to lean into my faith more than I have ever needed to before because of the unknowns and the risks.

How bizarre to have a police car come up behind us with lights on, and when the driver ignored him and kept driving, we prayed even harder, and when the police car gave up and turned down a side street, we laughed so hard! Only in Haiti would such a thing happen! We just knew people were praying, too.

The border was utter chaos with a zillion vehicles and no organization. Everything is grayish-brown here. You don't realize how much you appreciate color until you don't see any. I remember fingering a beautiful rose in my garden on our day of departure and wondering if I'd see anything so vivid and lovely in Haiti.

Well, I have. It's the faces of the Haitians. They have a fortitude and a perseverance to survive that is so admirable in the midst of their suffering; they smile so magnificently when they greet us...I wouldn't blame them for not smiling right now, but they haven't lost hope. They are thankful to be alive, and they give praise to Jesus, some of them for the first time. Many of them have turned to Him for the first time after seeing churches, Christian orphanages, and the homes of neighboring Christians untouched by the quake surrounded by collapsed homes and buildings, and asking, "Who is the God whom you serve? We want to follow HIM!"

The tent cities are everywhere. Sanitation is critical as people do their business in open areas and bodies decompose and threaten the water system. Medical care is a high priority with infections from wounds, lack of follow-up care from injuries, and diarrhea & vomiting from drinking tainted water. Many thousands of criminals are on the loose from the collapsed prison, wreaking havoc on the streets. The police force lost half its members. The problems seem insurmountable. Oh, Lord, please rebuild this city on your foundation!

Behind the home where I'm staying is a collapsed home with 2 dead bodies in it. What? At home that would be unthinkable. I'm in another world here...my mind shifts to another way of living. A cockroach on the kitchen counter doesn't even affect me. Dust coating everything, including me...intolerable at home. Honking at everyone while driving would earn you a finger or an attack of road rage at home, but here, people are glad that you are letting them know you're closeby. An armed guard around the house doesn't even phase me. Curfew at dark would make me indignant at home, but here, I'm more than happy to oblige.

Life here is raw. No watches, no hurries, no organization. Few comforts, few expectations, few plans. Lots of smiles, lots of hugs, lots of prayers, lots of friendship and doing for one another. Tons of faith. I can't think of a better place to be :)

Preparing to go to Haiti

Never in a million years did I imagine that the next time I went to Haiti, it would be to a disaster zone.

Never did I imagine that I would ever feel desperate to get there.

Never did I feel so willing to walk away from all that is comfortable here at home, in order to do something purposeful yet uncomfortable. Yes, it will be awful, and dirty, and heart-wrenching. It won't be safe. I might stink and be hungry. Only God can make one's heart long to go to such a place.

When Tom and I prayed on New Year's Eve 2009 that this year would bring a big change, that we would "step it up a notch", i.e. our opportunities to serve, that we could GO somewhere and DO something...little did we know that these prayers would be answered in short order.

The restlessness I've felt for months now to GO and DO is all making sense. God was preparing me for such a time as this. I'm ready, Lord. Send me. My heart and my hands are open and ready to be used in Haiti.

I must go pack now. Jesus, prepare me for what awaits...