This trip was for me a lesson in trust, a lesson in surrender, a lesson in dependency and humility and a lesson in what it means to love and be loved.
First, Haiti:
Haiti started badly, there’s no doubt about that. But I wouldn’t have had it any other way. If everything had gone according to plan, would I have started the trip with my arms in the air saying “I’m in your hands, God. I trust you because I know your perfect and wonderful plan for my life is good, as you are, and I believe that this is all part of that plan.”? Absolutely not; I know myself and I know that when things go according to my plan I lose awareness of my dependency, and dependency is something that I have come to see as gift beyond measure. I literally remember leaning against the toilet seat, sick as a dog, repeating over and over in my head, “I trust you, I trust you…”
My babies, how I miss my babies; especially my little Finder. Never have I known children who are quite so extraordinary. They’d get knocked over or get their fingers stepped on or fall quite badly on the hard tiled flooring of the balcony and we’d all wait for the waterworks, but more often then not, nothing. They are so incredibly tough. In fact, the only time I ever really saw any of my kids cry was when I’d put them back in the nursery, which always broke my heart. We’d come to them as strangers and you’d expect them to eye you suspiciously or hide behind the nanny's legs or turn away when we’d put our arms out to lift them, but that wasn’t the case. If you knelt down and put your arms out to any child, they would nearly knock you over as they threw themselves into your arms. They would hold onto you as though you were that person in their lives that they lived for; the one they would come to if they were hurt or sick or scared. It took only days before most of my kids would greet me with a look of recognition and hope. I have been humbled because they loved me and because they allowed me to love them. And in their own way, they have taught me a bit about how to love better.
I tend towards being judgmental. I see and mentally criticize faults in others that I justify in myself. This became abundantly and especially clear to me while I was away. Maybe it was because so much of my life there was relational and I was less distracted or because the atmosphere caused a certain softness of heart, but my hypocrisy was too obvious to ignore. I am learning that I am epically flawed and I will never know transformation if I try to fight my flaws by my own strength. Though this concept is not new to me, I have come to see how directly it affects my ability to love those around me and that isn’t something to be flippant about because, in the end, it all comes down to love.
I have learned what it means to surrender your life to the Father by the example that was set by those who have left their homes and families to take up long-term residence in Haiti. I heard from more then one person how a short-term trip left them changed forever and after hearing clear direction from God, picked up and left all they knew to come back just weeks after returning home. Two of these people were Molly and Joyce who have now lived in Haiti for 7 and 5 years. I thought I knew surrender; I thought I knew what it meant to trust God with my life…I know nothing. I am blessed to call them friends and it is an honor to have been invited into their family.
Haiti is a rough place, but it is now a place I can call home.
As I sat in the living room of the main house after saying my final goodbyes to my kids, in the company of a couple other volunteers and Kaylie, the 9 year old daughter of two of the long-term missionaries that work at GLA, I was very emotional. I don’t remember much of our conversation but I do remember very clearly the moment when Kaylie told me very nonchalantly, “You’ll be back”. I have always believed in the idea that kids, being essentially more pure and innocent and having not gained any of the cynicism and loss of imagination that comes with life are more in touch with all things spiritual. This comment, given square faced and without pretense, left me momentarily without breath. I did not take this comment lightly and it has left me with the hope that I will one day call Haiti home once again.
First, Haiti:
Haiti started badly, there’s no doubt about that. But I wouldn’t have had it any other way. If everything had gone according to plan, would I have started the trip with my arms in the air saying “I’m in your hands, God. I trust you because I know your perfect and wonderful plan for my life is good, as you are, and I believe that this is all part of that plan.”? Absolutely not; I know myself and I know that when things go according to my plan I lose awareness of my dependency, and dependency is something that I have come to see as gift beyond measure. I literally remember leaning against the toilet seat, sick as a dog, repeating over and over in my head, “I trust you, I trust you…”
My babies, how I miss my babies; especially my little Finder. Never have I known children who are quite so extraordinary. They’d get knocked over or get their fingers stepped on or fall quite badly on the hard tiled flooring of the balcony and we’d all wait for the waterworks, but more often then not, nothing. They are so incredibly tough. In fact, the only time I ever really saw any of my kids cry was when I’d put them back in the nursery, which always broke my heart. We’d come to them as strangers and you’d expect them to eye you suspiciously or hide behind the nanny's legs or turn away when we’d put our arms out to lift them, but that wasn’t the case. If you knelt down and put your arms out to any child, they would nearly knock you over as they threw themselves into your arms. They would hold onto you as though you were that person in their lives that they lived for; the one they would come to if they were hurt or sick or scared. It took only days before most of my kids would greet me with a look of recognition and hope. I have been humbled because they loved me and because they allowed me to love them. And in their own way, they have taught me a bit about how to love better.
I tend towards being judgmental. I see and mentally criticize faults in others that I justify in myself. This became abundantly and especially clear to me while I was away. Maybe it was because so much of my life there was relational and I was less distracted or because the atmosphere caused a certain softness of heart, but my hypocrisy was too obvious to ignore. I am learning that I am epically flawed and I will never know transformation if I try to fight my flaws by my own strength. Though this concept is not new to me, I have come to see how directly it affects my ability to love those around me and that isn’t something to be flippant about because, in the end, it all comes down to love.
I have learned what it means to surrender your life to the Father by the example that was set by those who have left their homes and families to take up long-term residence in Haiti. I heard from more then one person how a short-term trip left them changed forever and after hearing clear direction from God, picked up and left all they knew to come back just weeks after returning home. Two of these people were Molly and Joyce who have now lived in Haiti for 7 and 5 years. I thought I knew surrender; I thought I knew what it meant to trust God with my life…I know nothing. I am blessed to call them friends and it is an honor to have been invited into their family.
Haiti is a rough place, but it is now a place I can call home.
As I sat in the living room of the main house after saying my final goodbyes to my kids, in the company of a couple other volunteers and Kaylie, the 9 year old daughter of two of the long-term missionaries that work at GLA, I was very emotional. I don’t remember much of our conversation but I do remember very clearly the moment when Kaylie told me very nonchalantly, “You’ll be back”. I have always believed in the idea that kids, being essentially more pure and innocent and having not gained any of the cynicism and loss of imagination that comes with life are more in touch with all things spiritual. This comment, given square faced and without pretense, left me momentarily without breath. I did not take this comment lightly and it has left me with the hope that I will one day call Haiti home once again.
To be continued...
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