The rain, a dog, and a river of filth

The dreaded rain finally arrived. In torrents. The Haitians have been dreading it because so many thousands are sleeping outdoors under makeshift tents of sheets held together by sticks. I read that one teen girl said she doesn't mind sleeping outside except for the snakes that crawl on her at night. I mean, really? Could I handle that? NO, I don't think so.

Tom and I were sleeping in Bill & Susette's house the night the rain came, because they were out of town and needed someone to stay there. We weren't in our tent on the roof, which would've been OK. But instead, we were safely tucked into a comfortable bed, listening to the torrential rain outside. We griped and moaned because their dog howled and barked the whole night, keeping us awake. Oh, poor us, boo-hoo, we couldn't sleep because of a dog.

The next morning we returned to the guest house for breakfast. Our sweet, wonderful cooks, Janette and Monice, arrived with their usual smiles and huge hugs and "bises" (kisses on the cheek, like the French do). We asked how their night went with the rain, and that's when they cried. I didn't know that Janette and her family sleep in the street. I didn't know that Monice and her family sleep outdoors because their house is so cracked and they are afraid to sleep inside until it's inspected and deemed safe.

Both of them related stories of being surrounded by a rising river of filth that swept stench-filled trash and human waste all around them, soaking their sheets on the ground as the rain soaked them. Monice held her baby to her chest, crying out to the Lord. It was horrible, but they weren't seeking pity. I silently repented for my whining about a barking dog that kept me up. Oh, Lord, don't you love to give us perspective?

God took my eyes off myself and my complaining to everyone about how tired I was (I'm even embarrassed to write this), and immediately we all set out to find stuff to help them. We procured tents for them, and you'd think it was a thousand Christmases by the way they responded. They danced and praised God and were exuberant in their gratefulness! I found some boxes of toiletry items, and their exclamations of happiness astounded me. I received more kisses and hugs for toiletry items than for any gift I've ever given. I am humbled, Lord. These precious people never cease to teach me lessons in thankfulness and simple joy and praise to You.

How often have I filled my cart with toiletry items at a huge store like WalMart, all the while having a long face and being impatient while I wait in line? Forgive me, Lord, for my lack of gratefulness for my life of plenty. It is in the having of much that I have forgotten to be thankful. It is in the having of much that I never seem to be satisfied. The more I have, the more dull my heart is towards You.

Haiti...this place of suffering and poverty...this place of unexplainable joy and peace...my heart is conflicted by the paradox of it all. Will I ever be able to sing Mesi, Seigneur, Mesi (thank You, Lord, thank You!)for a box of toiletry items?