this is like nothing i have every experienced before. brokenness.
I just returned from my 12th trip to haiti and i have seen, heard, and felt things on this trip that i cannot keep quiet about.
I don't even know where to begin.
We tried to go to the government run hospital two different times and were unsuccessful. But we felt His nudging to keep trying. On friday afternoon, we made it there at about 230 pm. We walked down a paved street lined with sheet metal walls. This road was maybe 20 ft wide and would have been very tricky to have two cars drive through. As we walked, carrying our lotion and wipes for washing the hands and feet of people the Lord put in front of us, we had no idea what we were about to see. We crossed over into an areas that was dirt and grass and trash and continued to follow the path He had laid out for us. We had no idea where we were going. We were trusting the hospital staff to lead us to the abandoned adult room that we had come specifically to visit. (Honestly I just wanted to go see the babies because holding them and kissing them is enough to make them happy).
We finally got to the place where the adults were housed. We walked up a ramp into a 40X40 room, tin roof and sides, concrete floor, and 12-15 abandoned people housed there. We were all in shock at the conditions. Some of the lucky ones had a 2 inch mattress to lay on, directly on the floor. Many others were just on a sheet or directly on the concrete floor. Some were clothed; some were not. Some could talk; some could not.
One man was covered in flies, laying directly on the floor in the corner, completely naked... moaning in pain.
Left to die. Absolutely left there to die.
They all have a story. I was struggling to ask any questions because I was simply too afraid at the thought of knowing. Knowing how they got there. Knowing how they have been treated.
One girl, probably late teens or early twenties, I connected with right away. I walked through the door and her eyes met mine. Big brown gorgeous eyes that looked deep into my soul. She seemed handicapped, sitting with her legs folded out like a little kid does. I sat down right next to her on her soiled mattress, grabbed her hands, and started singing in her ear. When I was finished singing "10,000 Reasons" in creole, I asked her to sing to me. She proceeded to sing a song in da da form that sounded a bit like the first two lines of "this is the day". (This is the day, this is the day that the Lord has made...) As she was singing, she would rock back and forth and hold tightly to my hands. The same tune for an entire hour. :) She seemed to be in heaven. We had a special connection. I don't know her name, age or any piece of her story, but I know her song.
Today the hospital was planning to tear down that room. I trust that they were all successfully moved to another part of the hospital, but one can never be sure. Lord protect those frail bodies. Grant them a healing that only you can give. Restore their souls as my sweet singing girl restored mine.