Life Church Haiti Team...

My latest trip to Haiti...

almost 2 years

February 20-27, 2012 was my first trip to Haiti.

What?  It has only been 2 years??  I feel as if I have been traveling there a lot longer than that.  He continues to soften my heart for what He has.  I have just returned from my 10th trip and I fall more in love with the country each visit.

This last trip I thought God was opening doors for what ever may be next for our family in Haiti, and then He gently closed the door.  He is loving and good and closes doors.

I am confused.  It has been 2 years.  I feel a calling, yet I sit on the couch with my laptop and talk about confusion.

I know during this time He is making a path that is perfect for us.  He has gone ahead to prepare a way for us.  When we try to prepare the way for ourselves it ends in a mess.  We know.  We tried that.

Wait...
People keep talking about the waiting period.  The waiting room.  The hallway between the doors that have closed.  Time of rest.  Be still.  Hang tight.

Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous.
 Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.(Psalms 27:14 NLT)

I HEAR YOU!!!  and I want just a glimpse of what is to come.  Just a bit.  A blink.  An idea.

Be present today.  What is going on today that God is wanting us to be present in?

The other day Xan came home from school crying because the girls in her classroom were complaining about the school lunch.  The mac n cheese was appalling, according to ALL of her classmates.  She felt sad and told them that for sure it wasn't THAT bad... With big eyes they responded, "YES, it is THAT bad!!".  My 11 year old daughter doesn't know what to do with situations like this... through tears she told me she was finished living in America.  And now, her mother doesn't know what to do with situations like this...

Henry decided he didn't want anything this year for his birthday.  Pou kisa? (why?) I asked.  He couldn't give me an answer.  I tried to find something that would be more meaningful to him and suggested we sponsor a child through World Vision.  A child that was born the same day he was.  Everything seemed good and then through tears in his eyes he told me he was worried that the money we would send wouldn't go straight to that child.  He asked me to start saving money for children in Haiti that we can bless instead.  What?? Once again, mother doesn't know what to do with situations like this...

It isn't just my heart that is broken.  Apparently God is working on little hearts as well.  So, what do I do as a broken momma with broken children?

Love Does.  Bob Goff has written a book that describes how we can live our lives doing and make something incredible out of ordinary.  I know that He wants me to DO while I am waiting.  It is not just thoughts and feelings.  It is action. What does that look like today?

Today is Henry's birthday.  We had French Toast for dinner, just because.  Yesterday was Xan's birthday.  We had chili cheese fries for dinner, just because.  But I don't want things to happen just on their birthdays, just because.  How can my just because be played out in my daily life?

Coffee with a friend, just because.
Random loving text, just because.
Drop everything and go help a friend in need, just because.
Send money to a missionary, just because.
Tricky conversation with someone you care deeply about, just because.
Candlelight dinner, just because.
A wink, just because.
Pay for gas for a stranger, just because.
Smile, just because.

Just because might just change someone's life.

Ou sonje mwen?

You remember me?

After being to Haiti 10 times in the last 2 years, this is a phrase that I have said on recent trips, seeing if people remember me being there before.  There are so many faces.  Honestly I struggle to remember them.  I am not gifted at all when it comes to remembering names, especially when there is a lot of stuff going on around me.

But...the momma with the 15 day old baby that changed my life about a year ago, I will NEVER forget.  She let us hold her brand new baby!!  Wow.  A group of white people coming into her section of Cite Soleil, the slums of Port Au Prince, Haiti, and she allowed us to hold her baby.  She was not a mother desperate to find a better life for her baby, attempting to give it away to us.  Instead she stayed close by our side, watching every move we made, protecting her sweet gift from God.  Her baby was all wrapped up in clean blankets and had a knitted green and white hat on... beautiful.

February 2013 (15 days old)

We all prayed that God would protect that sweet sweet face.  But, it is Cite Soleil.  It is dark and desperate there.  Not a good chance this baby will make it past 3 months.  We were told by other missionaries that many mommas in Haiti do not name their babies until after they are 3 months old, understanding that there is a very good chance they will not survive.  I don't remember if this baby girl had a name.  I would like to think that she did by the way she was loved and taken care of, in the hopes that she will survive.

I have been back to that particular section in the Cite three times since first meeting "her".  I always look for them.  I know that I will not recognize the baby, but hope that the mother will "sonje" me.

One week ago today, I saw the mom.  I recognized her.  I asked her in creole if she remembered me!  She said yes and that we held her baby when she was very tiny.  Only God.

February 2014 (1 year old!)

Sweet Christina is thriving!  She looks healthy and well taken care of!  Mom was breast feeding her while we were talking, so I was able to tell her how amazing that was and that her "Christina" would be strong because of the nursing.  I told her that the milk she had was the perfect food for her baby.  She smiled and gave me a big hug.

I have been praying for a year.  This baby changed my life, and continues to.

I told her I would be back soon and that I would remember her... and pray for her.

Mwen sonje ou! 

From start to finish

Sometimes in America we think we are helping, but yet there is a piece of us that is unsure if our help or donation is actually going where we think it is...

We just returned from a trip to Haiti on Monday February 3 and we were able to see the mouths that were being fed by the Feed My Starving Children meals packaged in the U.S. !!  It was amazing.

Feed My Starving Children is an organization that packages meals for kiddos to eat in impoverished countries.  Contents are rice, soy, chicken, veggies... This is a dry meal that is cooked with water and can feed several tummies.

This week in Haiti we had the opportunity to visit Haitian Initiative, a soccer program  for the children in Cite Soleil (the most dangerous place in the world as stated by the United Nations).  The children play organized soccer after school and then get a meal when they are finished with practice.

Feed My Starving Children...


So many little mouths to feed.  They open many packets of the food, mix the appropriate amount of water in, cook in LARGE pots,

and serve the children a bowl of food.

They seemed so happy to be receiving a hot meal, and we were excited to see that the volunteer work done at home and the food is actually going to places such as this.

Three days later we went to deliver water into the same slums and I happened to have a little girl hanging on my shirt that was eating the leftovers of the dry food right out of the bag.  I will never forget her eyes and hoped that through that food... life.

 

I know that life is more than food, something the Haitians are constantly teaching me.

"That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life-- whether you have enough food to eat or enough clothes to wear.  For life is more than food, and your body more than clothing..."  Luke 12:22-23.

Adrenaline rush

Every time.  Sunday night before taking a new team to visit the country I love.

I can't sleep.  My heart races thinking about the beautiful faces of the Haitians I have fallen in love with.

I count down the hours.  Making sure every thing is in place here in Minnesota.

What will God teach us this week?  We are empty.  Empty vessels waiting to be filled with you.

Break our hearts for what breaks yours, Lord.

This week we put in your hands...

keep seeing, livesay blog

This is a blog from a family living in Haiti doing amazing things through Him.  Please read and allow the words to sink deep into your core.  

keep seeing

To my left, out the window, a man with crumpled legs lies on the sidewalk in the sun. I see him.

His hair is matted and tinted a peculiar orange. His clothes stained so badly their original color is unknowable.

Flies land freely on his face, his hands. 

His life is this.

Sitting against a wall, watching men and women and children go by; he watches life happen from his prison. Trapped in a body that doesn't cooperate and a mind that won't allow him to communicate at all, he sits.

He is a reminder that many things lie outside of our solutions, outside of our abilities, outside of all our talk. I have no answers. I have no ability to fix it, there is no "justice" for him.

I see him.

I cannot fix it.

~          ~          ~

To my right, an older man pushing a wheelbarrow as I walk past him.  I've come to know him a little bit. 

Well, that is a stretch. 

I've come to know his name. 

I see him. I greet him, "Bonjour Marcel".  "He keeps his eyes forward and replies, "Bonjour Madame". 

Marcel is what many folks might describe as 'slow'.  He keeps his head down and quietly, daily, always faithfully, does his work.

His job is coming to pick up trash from middle class families. Marcel walks the trash about two miles away where he can dump it.  He does this by hand, on foot, just he and his trusty wheelbarrow.  Over and over again. Day after day after day.

People call him "Mesye fatra" - or - Mr. Trash. That is why I have decided it is important we know his real name.

His life is this.

Taking people's garbage away in his wheelbarrow. Walking miles in heat, mud, dust, and traffic. Coming home to eat a little, sleep a few hours, then wake up and do it again tomorrow.

Marcel can move. Marcel can work.  He may be suffering from an incomplete development of his mind, but Marcel is making a small wage. His grueling work hasn't meant a climb up a corporate ladder to success, but it has meant a meal most days and a place to lie his head at night.

Marcel is a reminder that life is not fair, and poverty steals much. I have no better ideas for Marcel. He's not headed to a promotion or an earthly reward for his diligence.

I see him. 

I cannot fix it.

~          ~           ~

In front of me at the Maternity Center is a pregnant woman.  She is nervous and shy.

The other midwives and nurses tell me she is really doing well. I should have seen her when she first arrived on the doorstep, they say.

Her story has been shared with me in fragmented pieces by my co-workers. Abuse. Poverty. Servitude. She is pregnant but has been so used that she cannot say which man might be the father. It matters not. She is not interested in knowing him anyway.

She seems mainly accepting that this little life within her womb is heading full-speed-ahead toward delivery day, toward life outside the walls. She has begun to trust a few people, although I know I'm not among them yet.

She will deliver later this spring, during a time of year that signifies birth, new life, and resurrection.

For her, there are a few things we can do.  We can show up weekly and at her delivery. We can support and encourage in those difficult early weeks and months.  We can believe in the metaphorical significance of her spring time birth. We can choose love. We can be love. 

We see her. 

We cannot fix everything, but we can fix some things.

~          ~          ~

In my room, lying on my bed, my son is crying.  

"What is wrong, son? Why are you so very sad?" 

He pours out his sorrow in words and in tears.  I listen.  I empathize. I listen some more.

He wants to be comforted and I have been given all the gifts necessary to provide him with the perfect words of assurance and comfort.  

I see my son. 

I cannot fix everything, but I can fix some things. 

~           ~          ~

This is life.  Seeing sorrow. Seeing want.  Doing what we can.  Seeing sorrow. Seeing need. Refusing to stop seeing it, even when our lack of ability to fix it frustrates us.  

Miracles still happen

My last trip to Haiti left me with one word for several reasons... Miracle.

Ben wasn't suppose to be on this trip, but God made it very clear, through a series of events that he should go... Miracle.

Everyone on our team was either physically, emotionally or spiritually attacked by the devil and had a legitimate reason to stay home.  We didn't... Miracle.

The most life changing of events that took place during our trip was also a miracle.  We arrived at stop #26 in Cite Soliel to deliver water to the people there and they came running, desperate for it.  Skinny street, many people, too many buckets to count, people upset because there wasn't even a chance they were going to get water before the truck ran out.

I was holding the water hose, Ben and Tim were handling the buckets.  At one point I looked down the line and saw what seemed to be an infinite number of buckets.  Sadness overflowed my heart.  There wasn't any way we could provide what they needed that day, not even water.

The Bible story about Jesus feeding the 5000 came to my mind... Lord you provided then, provide now.  I trust you.

Then the water "ran out", or so I thought.  We looked up and the water truck workers had turned the water off because there were no more buckets left to fill.  WHAT???  We left stop #26 with water still in the truck.  A miracle...