tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86471936239810616932024-02-06T22:01:24.363-05:00The H.A.I.T.I. Chronicles- St. Marc, HTHopeful, Anointed, Inspiring, Timely, Intervention.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger426125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-75831424200337724962019-02-27T09:05:00.001-05:002019-02-27T09:05:26.845-05:00Here's why everybody talks about it<div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US>You should definitely try it <a href="http://stable.knittersmark.com/">http://stable.knittersmark.com</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US style='mso-fareast-language:EN-US'>Doyle Berg Jr<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-24577822569726405112019-02-09T17:23:00.000-05:002019-02-09T17:24:04.471-05:00Right decision<div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US>My favourite one <a href="http://level.hockinghillsrestaurants.com/">http://level.hockinghillsrestaurants.com</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US style='mso-fareast-language:EN-US'>Doyle Berg Jr<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-53379138508228833842019-01-10T17:15:00.000-05:002019-01-24T12:34:23.854-05:00Foreign Affairs<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two days ago, I stepped off American Airlines flight #971 to
Port-Au-Prince Haiti. In a just a short couple minutes the din of American politics,
business as usual, dinner plans with friends, and the next sermon took flight
of my mind. I steadied myself and sought my sea leg balance for this culture
again, and by the time I exited the airport I was snapped to attention and
geared for the clanging and striving of pure poverty. It met me before I arrived
at the door but slammed me in the face as I pushed out of the building.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have never found the words to conduct my thoughts to paper
in such a way as to paint the graphic picture a third world country brings to a
being. I know there are those out there who fluidly swerve back and forth
between cultures with hardly any effort at all. Not me. It’s more like
careening, awkward, and ill performed at best. I want to think the years and experience
have softened my approaches internally, and perhaps to one degree or another
they have. But still, the gentle caresses of a plush culture are deeply woven
into the fabric of my being, and my soft underbelly lacks stomach for the harsh
and brutal ways of the impoverished. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tell my teams not to rush to judgement, but it’s hard.
Staring awkwardly in the vacant eyes of a child who you will only be left to wonder
what will happen to them is a tsunami of the soul one cannot pen, nor tongue
tell. It is a grief you will carry to your grave, and a theological question
that will play with the soundest theologies of God and men should you possess a
true soul for the unfortunate and the forsaken. I am not one to shake a fist in
the face of the Almighty, but this place is a true test of my endurance and faith!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Soon enough I am confident this land will swallow up my work
of flesh, devour it and spew it out on the ground like refuse. Gratefully, the
work I do is not for flesh alone. Seed planting is what we do, and when we are
gone, and the dust has settled, and the rain comes…new life will be found
pushing up through the harden soil, life of promise, and hope, and change. Good
will grow, that is my prayer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I walked out through the parking lot, and got in the
car with Robinson, I couldn’t help but notice the full airport parking lot. A
very different site for me. He said it was a sad day in the country, it seems
there is a gas shortage. As it has played out, it’s a yearly struggle here. It’s
quite a site to pass the gas stations and see 50-100 motorcycles strewn throughout
the parking area by the pumps, all waiting for one thing, fuel. Almost every motorcycle
taxi you see has a one-gallon jug tied to the back fender, dangling on a piece of
rope, a sign of the prepared. Rob has headed to the gas station at 4:00 am each
morning to make sure he can have enough gas to get his American friend around
and run a generator at night for a fan to keep him cool. What are the odds?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yesterday we pulled a miracle, we setup and stood up our new
big tent at the project. It takes an army of guys to lift 1150 lbs. of fabric
21’ in the air! I can tell you, I was there! Our first try failed, and I was
ready to call it a night. It was pitch dark under the fabric and we had my pen
light and a couple phone lights trying to see what to do, did I mention that I
don’t speak Creole? And I have a couple good translators, but when they don’t
have a clue what you’re up too, it become a real fiasco. We did succeed, and
then I raced around tightening a few places on the tent to steady it overnight…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was walking to the bathroom for my shower late last night
when I heard a terrible racket. I was momentarily confused, and then a shutter
went through my frame…rain! My tent was up, but still needed tightening for
water flow off the canvas, when they are not tight, they pocket water, and
water is 8.3lbs per gallon. Robinson cannot remember a time it has rained in January
in his lifetime! We fought to get it up, and another force tried to get it down.
When we got back to the property this am, I was greeted with what I feared, a huge
pocket of water threatening to tear our new tent down, I raced…no…I plodded
through deep mud to where the canvas was groaning under its uncomfortable load,
released two straps, dropped two poles and called for a bucket. It took ten
minutes of bailing, and unsettled panic inside me, before the strain was lifted
and I tightened up the canvas to safe proportions. Did I mention how good God
is. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrote to a friend this morning that I don’t quite know why
I find myself in such foreign affairs. I’ve never arrived at a place and been
there very long before I have found Him already there. I know He could just go
on without me, but he seems to keep pausing, looking back over His shoulder and
saying: “Are you coming?” What are you supposed to say to that but ‘yes Lord’?
And so I go, finding myself embraced by the most unusual arms of God, an orphan,
a widow, a pregnant mom due any moment, concern deeply etched on her face. There
will be no NICU for her baby, barely any proper medical care for herself. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you can’t teach the people to fish, you better know how
to break bread like Jesus did! You better know the power of the one who fed 5000 with
two fish and five loaves of bread. This morning I packed a little extra in my
lunch bag. Two little boys spotted me getting into the Toyota and came on the
run. I gave them each a snack, and they asked for one for their sister. We told
them to go get their sister, for hungry bellies cannot be trusted! It was as I
suspected, older sister…and little brother came on the run…but I had enough. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Robinson forgot about a wedding he was supposed to do at
4:00 today, so it has left me with a little writing space. The clouds are threatening rain again tonight, but I am not bothered now. Actually, it has
worked out quite well because the rain has exposed a few other issues that
needed to be addressed at our new property. And better while I’m here to see,
than trying to explain it on the phone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Paul says to be content in whatever circumstances one finds
oneself, I am still learning what that means, and over time, finding out it
means a lot more than I initially conceived. Here’s to all being content tonight,
trust me when I tell you that you have it far better that you can imagine. I
know we have some big mountains to climb in our country, just remember though,
we have climbing gear, imagine what it would be like if you had a mountain, and
nothing to climb it with. I suppose that would be the time have the faith to
cast the mountain into the sea, this is the culture and burden I find myself immersed
in tonight. We stopped in passed the old church property before noon today, there
were a few people there, gathering for noon prayer. As I walked to the front of
the church, I was struck to see a young girl already on her knees praying.
Great desperation or great faith on bold display for my afflicted American eyes
to see. I paused, and looked up to see God looking back over His shoulder again,
the question hanging between us… “are you coming?” I’m on my way!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Blessings to all from St. Marc. </div>
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-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-68885068131683688142018-10-29T18:34:00.000-04:002018-10-29T18:34:14.175-04:00Validation
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The sound of children playing and scratching on my tent in
the dark is the way my morning started. That dog pile of young boys asleep on
the floor early last evening apparently thought they had enough sleep at around
5:00 am. Light rudely blasted into my tent and a silhouette stood in the
doorway to the porch I called home for the last 7 days. I waved my hand to
signal I wanted the light back off to the figure surrounded by light, and it
when out. I tried to sleep for a few more minutes, but to no avail. So I got up
and put in another movie to allow the team a little more time to rest and keep
the kids calmer. We gave the kids a smorgasbord of breakfast bars too choose
from as we won’t need much for tomorrow morning, we will be hitting the road
early for Port. We went to the new property this morning via a school bus. It
was a big adventure for the kids. We arrived at the property and I set up a
little tent for shade and was getting ready to lay bases when someone carried a
phone to me and said Pastor wanted to talk to me. They were at the property with
the Toyota and trailer but couldn’t make it up the hill. We ended up removing 100
lbs. of pipe from the trailer as well as two of the tent packages. The pipe was
carried up the hill by Haitians and I was finally able to use a different route
and up the hill we went. With the work we had done on the road to help repair
the water damage we were also able to run the two-wheel drive truck up as well.
We compiled all the goods back in the trailer and parked it out of the way while
they pour the floor to our Well Shop/storage area for rigs and goods. A huge
bonus we discovered while we were up at the property is that the metal roof of
the building reflects the sun’s heat, and it’s actually a very cool place to
work. This will be wonderful to have in the days ahead. We were also able to set
up one of four perimeter solar lights that will aid in property security. We
are really excited about this because when it gets dark in Haiti, it really
gets dark. No city night light glow, just a jet-black sky that vacuums up all
light and makes the stars truly sparkle. I have seen these lights working way
high on the mountain and it used to confuse me why they had power up there and
not down in the city until I found out they were solar powered units. At the
end of the week I am not where I planned to be, but I certainly am not where I
was when I arrived. Patience is a coveted fruit, it grows slowly, it is a
virtue which is an acquired taste, much like coffee. I say coffee, because it
is a flavor I have never come to fully appreciate. I drink it in Haiti with lots
of cream and sugar, never ask me to drink it black! That is the way I am with
patience. I need a lot of sweetener and some cream. I covet it dearly, but I am
wired to do: “do or do not, there is no wait” is my catch phrase. While I have
drunk deeply at the well of patience this week and have typed out my blogs laced
with cream and sugar, a bitter taste remains behind. I hope ten years of
working in Haiti has made me a better man, but days like these where my
patience is truly put to the test, I feel failure eating at my frame. I cast my
eyes to the hills from where comes my help, my help I say, ‘comes from the
Lord.’ He is in charge of all things in this HIS Haiti ministry. As I write
this blog I am moving back and forth between words setting up our annual orphanage
birthday party. This is quite the business, a serious endeavor that takes
several man hours of time, a true labor of love to validate these kids ‘American
Style’. Criticize me if you will, as I had my meeting with these golden hearts yesterday,
I confessed to them we are not a family replacement. I told them this is broken
attempt to bring a place of protection and a safe environment for them to grow
up in. We love them but are rarely with them. Hence, a birthday bash, a time of
validation, a time we burn into their memories how much they are loved and held
close in our hearts. As the ladies and kids were finishing up coloring and
decorating banners with each child’s name on it some of the kids were helping
color theirs. Kenly appeared with a piece of paper in hand, he unfolded it to
reveal last year’s banner with his name on it. He has kept it safe this entire
year. Confirmation is rare gift we get. In the moment that banner was unfolded
I knew we had validated this young teenager in a plausible way. On that note, I
have a party to attend. Blessing to all from St. Marc.</div>
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</style>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-45604562324216120482018-10-29T15:36:00.001-04:002018-10-29T15:36:04.756-04:00Teenagers
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are having another sleep over. We have made a few
adjustments from the sleepover tow nights ago, no kids sleeping in front of
fans, they get freezing cold at 70 degrees! The little boys are asleep in the
middle of the big room on a comforter. It funny, they dog pile like a litter of
puppies. Deloris awoke yesterday morning to 5 girls sleeping in a space no
wider than 4 feet right beside her bed. It’s hard to even capture on camera.
Today was very busy with church this morning and orphanage meetings all
afternoon. I’m bone weary tonight, but my voice is returning! Poor Lee has lost
hers today. She was our lingual rock star this morning, the Haitians always
love her little speech to them in Creole. There was a special moment when Ray introduced
himself and his age of 16. An audible ripple went through the tent of shock and
awe. He is a tall, very tall, drink of water! They often ask what we feed our
children. It’s pretty funny to see their reactions. I know I always say this,
but it is amazing how many people fit on our church property in town. At one
point I looked and saw that they had attached a blue tarp to the front of the
tent to help create shade for the morning service, a man was standing in the middle
holding the tarp up off of the heads of the people. Service went well, I had
enough voice finally to talk. Lunch was our Sunday afternoon staple, macaroni
and cheese with hot dogs. Haitians love their hot dogs. So it was a very happy
crowd at the orphanage. We held an orphanage meeting and then met with our five
teenagers, yes that’s right, five. One of them can be a handful, so we have
some fresh challenges for our staff. The meeting with the kids was well
received, they are such brave and intelligent hearts and beings. I pulled out the
drawings for the new orphanage and shared it with them, they were so excited
and pleased. They did ask if they would each have their own rooms. I told them
we wouldn’t have the luxury of that right now. What we have and take for
granted, their question made my heart cringe. The men worked fast and furiously
on the Toyota today, it won’t be done tonight as they need the electrical mechanic
to do the wiring, he will start at 6:00 in the morning. But they did have the
new engine running tonight. It would be nice to have it roadworthy for our last
day on the ground here. We have much to do, but a big event of this trip with the
kids is a baseball game. We will do this at the new property in the morning.
There is a lot of excitement among the children for this event. Sean has played
a lot of baseball in his life and it’s something he really wanted to do, so we
have gloves and bats, it should be a great time. We will report in on its
success or failure later! It is time to get some shuteye, the kids will be up
very early, especially the young ones that have fallen fast asleep on the
floor. Rest well and God bless all.</div>
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</style>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-19167476166804858072018-10-28T00:03:00.002-04:002018-10-28T00:03:57.240-04:00Tow Strap
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I am busy in sermon prep for the am service tonight, so this
will be a short post. We had a splendid day today, immersed in so many
activities. The school meeting went well today, we just needed to connect with a
few more children, but that is the way it is every year. We’ll get there. It
was a very warm day, but we did manage to get the trailer off the dock. The
first thing I wanted off the trailer was the new motor for our Toyota, just to
get rid of weight and make room to be able to remove all the supplies that need
to stay in town. Rob called me from the mechanics yard to tell me he had the
trailer and I was supposed to come to him on a motorcycle taxi to see about
getting it off. When I arrived, there were a couple guys sitting with Robinson
under a shade tree on the hood of a vehicle I doubt will ever see another road
day in its life, actually, there is no life left in it! He told me the mechanic
was in Port. Just like everything else in this trip. I had to laugh. I said let’s
go, we can get it later. I had seen our motor hoist was buried deep under the
chaos left by inspectors, so I had no way to unload it. Rob asked me if I was
sure, and I said yes. About this time our truck driver came around the corner with
a tow strap he immediately reached down and wrapped around the motor. He
stepped out and disappeared for another moment or two before returning with an
8’ piece of bent 2” pipe that was as smooth as silk. And then I knew. Two more
guys showed up and four of us lifted the motor an inch. I thought to myself,
well this will be the end of me. But now the Haitians are getting louder, one
of them motions for me to get out of the trailer and takes my hand hold on the
pipe, and then suddenly there are about 20 Haitian hands on that pipe and motor.
I needed this moment on video I thought, and so I stood there while these guys
took that motor and put it at a neighbor’s house by the mechanic for
protection. Folks, it’s a thirty second video, and then it was done. I joked with
the mechanic when he showed up at the church later that I wondered what time I
could get my Toyota tonight. We laughed. A few minutes later Rob came to me and
said the mechanic was going to do the motor for free but needed to pay some
extra help, so he could have it to us tomorrow! Part of me doesn’t believe it, after
the week I’ve had I’m plenty conditioned to not believe, but part of me still
hopes. Then another part of me, the part that watched 10 Haitians unload and
move a motor 50’ in 30 seconds, believes it just might happen. That would be a
golden nugget in this chaotic trip! It would be awesome for a plan we have for
Monday, it’s been a pain without the team transport vehicle. As I bumped along
in the back of the truck today, sweltering in the mid-day sun with a few of the
orphans, I was grateful for the ride, but miserable at the same time. So, it
was a forward progress day today. We will see what time affords, we have very
little left this trip. We have two full days of activities stretched out before
us. Pray we end on a high note. I’m speaking in the morning and my laryngitis
has taken a turn for the worse today. Fortunately, I will have the aid of
translator, but I’m not looking forward to squawking away to a couple thousand
people in the morning! Blessings from St. Marc. </div>
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</style>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-14313651846195662042018-10-26T23:46:00.001-04:002018-10-26T23:46:29.252-04:00Goat herder
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Good evening from Haiti. So much for the cool weather! Today
things heated right up, in more ways than one, but that is Haiti. One thing I
never miss yet when I leave here to go home is the rooster’s crowing at 3:00
am. It’s not bad when you can block it out with fan noise, which works more
often than not, but then there are nights that are the exception, like last
night. I guess I get now why Haitians like chicken so much, it’s a staple you
have because you have to kill them to silence them! On to bigger and more important
things though. Kelly, Rob and I hit the road early this morning to see about
starting our well machine and getting it under the cover of our new building.
We were successful, even though we encountered nasty biting ants, huge spiders
and their webs, and a big hornet’s nest. They will be pouring the floor in our
building next week and that will give us a much-needed equipment storage space.
Another early morning blessing was the opportunity to engage with the orphans when
they were just getting up and around. Their energetic hearts were a treasure to
experience. I believe this has been a necessary trip to reconfirm these beautiful
lives that have been placed in our care. Several are at challenging ages, and
this country is anything but kind to hopes and dreams. This has been a great
team to redress the needs of their young hearts. It’s particularly tough when
they go a whole year without us. I am constantly reminded this mission is
nothing if not about the hearts we are meant to touch and change by being that
loving hand of God extended. As I type away on my computer, they are all staying
with us at the Mission House tonight, enjoying popcorn, Kool aid, and Peter
Rabbit. A room full of their laughter, and one might imagine how Monster’s Inc.
actually became a thing. One by one they will drift off to sleep, cherishing this
moment in the brave history of their lives. Swept along by the complexity of
the mundane, they must at some point own this life, or die trying. As I bump along
their dust laden streets, the drift of a unique smog all their own grays the
sky, I wonder at the stories they could tell. The child whose father breaks
rocks to make gravel every day for a living. He doesn’t come home and kick off
his shoes, turn on the TV and crack a can of beer. He comes home to a dark hut
without electricity and running water, with something called a door, he sleeps tired
and hungry with his children on the floor, to die and be buried in a nameless
tomb, no epitaph, just the fact that he was here, and now he is gone. I think about
these things because that is something of the story line of the lives of our
orphans. For most of these kids their history has been erased, they have fake
birth certificates, the only sense of belonging is the one they get a few days
of the year when we show up. Don’t get me wrong, I think our staff and director
are some of the best people in the world, but even Robinson confessed to me he didn’t
ever know love until he came to the United States. The harshness and brevity of
life here border on a stroke of evil almost too much to comprehend. To this darkness
we are called, and to this calling we try to remain faithful. Apparently, I
will get the comedy award of this trip with the Haitians. There were two goats
at the orphanage that are a part of a birthday feast for the kids this weekend.
As we were leaving the house and bringing all the kids to the Missions house to
stay, the goats could not be left behind for fear they would be stolen. As I
was trying to leave one of the kids handed off his charge to me. And I happened
to have the stubborn one of two. I led out on a determined mission not to have
anyone else have to deal with this feisty little creature. As the Haitians tell
it the poor goat never had his feet on the ground. That is not true, because for
most of the way I had to drag the poor little guy along. He would jump into the
air and land on all four feet set dead against me, but I kept walking. By the
time we arrived at the Mission house I wasn’t sure who was most tired, me or
the goat. But he immediately started head butting the other goat so I figured
he had fared better than myself. I have never seen Robinson laugh so hard at
the telling of the story. I guess I will live on in infamy as the bizarre
American goat herder! I guess I’m grateful to have brought some comedic relief to
an otherwise repressed culture. One other point of clarification, you experience
some of the greatest joy people can live in while here in this country. But the
markings of deep sorrow and hardship are carved upon every face as they carry
added weight to the normal burden called ‘Time’. A disappointment to our day
was that after spending several hours at the dock today, we still don’t have
our trailer. Now it will be a bonus if it gets out before we leave. Time to lay
a new plan for our setbacks, and finalize what this trip was really about, and
in case you’re wondering, no my voice has not returned. I’m beating out my
frustration on my computer keys. I hope this post is not overdone! Blessings to
all from a heated-up St. Marc. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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</style>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-67719987509335871032018-10-25T20:10:00.002-04:002018-10-25T20:25:15.292-04:00Noise<br />
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On this day in Haiti…the trailer is still in customs. There,
that is now out in the open. On a positive note, it will be tomorrow. We called
after the men’s meeting at 5:02 p.m. and our customs agent said to Robinson, “I’m
sorry, you’re too late.” Really, we’ve only called 50 times since we have been here,
and you couldn’t call with authorization? We called at noon and she had said no
word. Well, word came sometime this afternoon, and everything was authorized to
move as I suspected because the dock has to be emptied for the next ship
arriving Saturday. There is a never ending list of things to do while we are here
though, and as there has been a year since our last visit, everywhere I turn
there is something to fix or add or get done. We are picking them off one by
one, and it’s making people very happy. One unique thing happened yesterday
that I thought should receive mention in my posting was a meeting that happened
at the courthouse. Robinson was advised by the government that they requested an
appointment with him on the day we were arriving, and he had to respond with a
letter stating he could not do that date, so it was changed to yesterday at
11:00 a.m. I asked him what the meeting was about, and he told me it was about
the church in town, no big deal. This peaked my curiosity and upon further investigation it
seems news of the long night service has reached Port Au Prince. He informed
the League of Pastor’s in St. Marc of the meeting, and they told him to go but
if there was a problem they would come with support. As it would turn out there
was word on the street that the government might shut the church down. Robinson
came out of his room yesterday dressed to the hilt, and I knew in that moment
this was a serious meeting. As it would turn out, it was a noise issue. The man
from the government turned out to be a Christian pastor, and the meeting was a
cordial one. A small agreement was made, as Robinson made the case in point
that there was no effort to restrict the disco’s in town which was met with chuckles.
They had been called on their own game. The surprise came when I found out
there was a demonstration put on in front of the courthouse by other area churches before he arrived and while the meeting was in session
and that people had gone through the courthouse trying to find him to protect
and defend him! But the meeting was in a special, private, air conditioned room. It
would seem the city is not going to surrender our long-night service for a long
time to come. At our new location, they are already asking Robinson if he will
start a long night service when we open there. One thing it seems our Haitian Christian
family and community are seeing is true answers to pray! ‘Praying without ceasing’
takes on a physical commitment here, not just a mental one going on in one’s
head. I don’t want to minimize anyone’s prayer life in this blog, but the
commitment of the church community in this city in to be commended. And most
certainly Pastor Robinson and his commitment to making sure it prevails.
Without fail across the years that our teams have come, after bedding the team,
the one night Robinson does not stay with us at the mission house is Friday
night because he still goes and prays with his people all night long. And then
without any rest, he serves the team all day long on Saturday. Sean spoke for
the men’s meeting this afternoon and did a great job. It’s always a challenge when
one speaks with a translator for the first time, but he did well, and the young
men appreciated his talk and message. I saw my post was long last night, so I
will wrap up for now lest I labor you with too many words! One small issue that
has come to light is the failure of the comment section. Google has apparently
disabled ‘open’ comments in order to protect from scam, which my post has apparently
suffered from. You have to sign up for a google account, sign in, and then post
your comment. If it’s too much trouble, no worries. I usually share the comments
with the team and they have missed that feature this trip. I have linked the
blog to FB, but it is too daunting here with the internet issues to try to sort
through the news feed to follow the comments there, and I know some are doing
that. We will catch up with that trail when we get home. Blessing as always! </div>
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-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-74148703682792428392018-10-24T18:06:00.001-04:002018-10-24T18:06:48.407-04:00Ironic
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We have been fortunate to have a couple of the nicest days we
have experienced in Haiti in ten years of travel here. Don’t get me wrong, it’s
still plenty warm, but our first two nights have been down right cool. Today
has been another day of hurry up and wait. We took off early to run a couple of
errands, one being to take a compactor out to the property to ready the floor
of our building for concrete. For all who have done equipment rental in the U.S.,
something very different here is that when one rents equipment here, it comes with
an operator! When we made one quick stop after picking up the compactor I was
startled to walk past the back of the truck and find a Haitian lodged in the
back. I said to Rob, ‘what’s he doing here’? And then he told me. Both he and
the engineer were stunned to learn I could rent a piece of equipment without
someone from the rental company coming with me. One determination we made on
our site visit was there is more leveling to be done for our new tent. When I
measured it out for our engineer, there were many wide eyes! In the world of tents,
this is not a particularly huge tent, for these Haitians, as well as for me,
this is a monster. This tent is 3 times bigger than our current tent in town, it’s
going to be amazing. It’s ironic that we find ourselves in a waiting game on
customs just like we did our very first trip in all those years ago. Hopefully
this is not a complete ditto of that journey. We did have partial success
today, our people at the dock took mercy on us and let us into the trailer to
pull our food and generators for this trip. We were living off backstock today,
some serious improvisation has been going on with our chief cook and bottle
maker…my wife! But everyone has been staying very upbeat. This afternoon there
was some intense crafting going on with our kids, Krystle is in high demand!
Ray played soccer with the boys for a couple hours, he’s getting some serious
workouts in! Did I mention he’s the tallest guy in every room he enters! As I type
out this blog, the women’s service is in full swing, Beth, Deloris, and Lee are
there. Meanwhile back at the orphanage some big soccer game was on TV, I think
some local team was playing and there were about 10 of the young guys here.
Sean commented it was funny all the ladies were in church and all the guys were
here watching soccer! Also, that we must be the only location in town with power
on and a TV. The electrical problem in St. Marc remains the same, that is, no
power. When we were pulling the food off the trailer a bit ago, I was confused
as the generators were pulled off as well. When we got out to the truck and loaded
everything, I told Rob my surprise they let him take the generators. He told
our contact person he was taking them, that the church needed them, and he was
not willing to wait anymore for them! As we walked back through the customs
dock, he kept saying ‘hi’ to many people and then would drop this line, ‘they
go to my church’. It looks like he owns the dock! I had to chuckle to myself.
He went to school with the customs inspectors, the head security folks go to
his church, some of the very top customs folks are close friends of Rob’s. The reach
of our church community here is vast and far reaching. The stall with the
trailer delivery is not a local issue, it’s an attempt to crack down on corruption,
it’s a delay tactic to minimize bribery, Robinson said it is a good idea, they
just don’t have it working well right now. One thing in our favor is the fact
that the dock is full, and a ship is coming in Saturday, they need the dock
emptied by then. So hopefully it’s pushed out by tomorrow. It is minimizing
what we are going to be able to get done physically on this trip, but one thing
I have learned about working in Haiti, if you don’t have patience to deal with
the push-back that comes with doing good, don’t get involved here! Haiti has
tested my resolve so many times, were it not the great cloud of witnesses
around us and this mission, perhaps we would have fainted long ago. As evening descends
on another day, I remain consumed with gratefulness. If nothing has changed in
this country the last ten years, my consolation prize is that I have. I read
through some of my early blogs before we left on this trip. I can see with great
clarity I am not the same person I was all those years ago! Time will judge us
all, the seasons of life pull us along with ever changing tides that strain us
to our very cores, who we are, who we will become. Thank you to all our supporters
who pray and team with us financially in this major endeavor. More to come.
Blessings to all once more!</div>
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</style>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-59313211084840399312018-10-23T20:37:00.001-04:002018-10-23T20:37:25.064-04:00Crayons
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How much changes in ten years? Good question. If you live in
Haiti…not much! I’m being a little facetious, but only a little. In my post two
nights ago titled ‘Decade’ I talked about reminiscing, but now I’m actually
reliving part of my first family trip ten years ago. Our trailer is still in
holding at customs. We have paid the fees, the paper work is complete, but the
voice of a man in Port is the only way our trailer comes out of the dock. We
were told in the morning, we will see, we were also told that yesterday.
Krystle bet me this afternoon it wouldn’t be out today, optimist vs. realist…
she won. In the meantime,...we have had to make many adjustments to accommodate
our schedule. Today was our big children’s service at the church, and all the
crayons are in the trailer, as well as food, tent, new engine for the Toyota,
new generators, and a long list of other necessities for this visit. So, we dug
around a few left behinds from other trips and found 2 boxes of Cracker Barrel
crayons, we started loading the 500 craft bags and when the last verse and
coloring page were loaded into the bags, there were about 10 packages of
crayons left over. It felt like the loaves and fishes all over again. Also, we
started the daunting task of loading the plastic bags for the service with about
three of us and before we were done, we had a room full of young Haitian men
helping us, it has been amazing to be a part of their lives these 10 years, and
to see the impact of our ministry on them. Are they making all the right
choices, likely not, but then who is? In the critical moments, they know how to
show up, and how to help, how many know how to do that? Last night was a bright
and cheery reunion, with lots of hugs and a few tears. We had the orphanage
repainted, (we do this yearly now) and the guys were wrapping up the outside
today. We did a lot of sorting and organizing today, I’m still terribly under
the weather and my voice is not returning. A very frustrating circumstance to
say the least. When we arrived at the current church property this afternoon, we
found a lot of our benches for seating in desperate need of repair, so we
contracted our welder and carpenter to get them fixed, and before we left the
facility crews were already hard a work to fix them. Lee and her acting team
did a great job with the story of Adam and Eve, Rob pulled me away for a few
minutes to diagnose a well in the neighborhood that was broken. We will have
our resident up and coming well driller fix it in a day or two. While we are
here there is a storm of activity and people visiting, coming to say hi and
catch up. Did I mention I can’t talk? Honorable mentions today are Sean playing
‘God’ in the Adam and Eve story because he’s such a ‘godly man’, Ray riding a
motorcycle taxi in Haiti for the first time with his grandma nearly having a
heart attack. I mentioned our newbies doing well in last night’s post, on their
first full day in Haiti, they are rocking it. The weather has been kind so far,
and our first day is just about a wrap. The team is doing very well together,
and we are confident we will achieve what we are meant to achieve this trip.
Pray for Deloris and I to get our voices back, and that no other team member
suffers this plight this trip. I have managed all of my trips to Haiti to date
without being sick, this is a first for me. But others are stepping up, I feel
like the priest Zechariah who was made dumb just after he received improbable
news that his wife would bear a son, such great news and couldn’t speak a word
of it to anyone. LOL Well, that’s me right now, but my team is filling in the
gaps well, as perhaps is now due! We are tired and weary, so we will finish
early tonight and try to rest everyone in hopes of a trailer of goods to manage
through tomorrow. Blessings to all from St. Marc. </div>
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</style>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-75112210842627322462018-10-23T08:32:00.003-04:002018-10-23T08:32:51.790-04:008A
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Destiny, there’s a word for you! We live our lives moment by
moment, and yet we look at it like a package deal, work time, family time,
dinner time, it gets clumped together, so that we look forward to vacation, or
spring break, or summertime, winter time…I think you catch my drift. Whenever I
head into Haiti, this time decompression happens, time slows, much like the
drag I feel as the pilot comes to land, and especially when you hit the runway
and the air brakes engage, the thrust is reversed, and you are reminded why they
are insistent on your seatbelt being fastened. We flew Jet Blue this trip and
have actually been very impressed with their service. The planes were on time,
and we were so grateful that our connection with Deloris and her grandson Ray
happened smoothly. As we boarded in Fort Lauderdale, I was separated out from
our group due to a booking detail. My seat was 8A. As I walked down the aisle about
two rows back from my seat a stewardess was standing overseeing the boarding
process. As I approached my row, sitting in the middle seat between the aisle
and my window seat was an elderly Haitian woman. I couldn’t help but notice her
discontent. She was writhing in her seat and seemed to be trying to communicate
to anyone who would lend an ear, but neither the stewardess nor myself
understood her attempts to speak to us in Creole. The stewardess said she could
see about moving her and I said no, she was fine. As I took my seat, I noticed
she was pulling on her seat belt that was already buckled and was a twisted
mess. Then she looked at me and I knew what she was struggling with, she wanted
the seatbelt unfastened. I assumed she was a free woman, and if she wanted the
seatbelt undone, I was just the guy to set her free! And that is what I did.
She exploded with a grateful outburst, I was her new best friend. But just as
quickly as she had erupted with thanks, she also reached under the seat in front
of her, snatched her bag and was up out of her seat. The stewardess shrugged
her shoulders as the woman moved back into the aisle crowd and headed toward
the back of the plane. A few minutes later, the stewardess came back and told me
they had discovered the older woman’s daughter was on the plane and they had
seated them together, problem resolved. Toward the end of the flight the
stewardess came back to me and said, “you know that older woman you helped this
evening, we discovered she is 108 years old!” I was staggered. Haitians have a
much shorter lifespan due to the lack of a proper and steady diet among other
things, and here my path would intersect at row 8, window seat A with a woman
who was defying time. As we struggled through terrible traffic this evening and
finally arrived in St. Marc a little haggard and worn, I have given pause all
evening to reflect on this beautiful soul and the undoubted anguish and
suffering her life has seen, how she reacted to the freeing of a seat belt, a
simple gesture on my part, our lives connected for that brief moment and I
captured it. I am not sure I will make it to 108, but if I do, I hope someone
will be kind enough and patient enough to be marking moments in a way to be of assistance
to me should I find myself trapped by an airline seatbelt. Yes, time has slowed
once again. The drag of Haiti is upon us, the trailer was not released to us
today, we are hoping for the morning. We will see, but for now, I’m giving
myself to the moments, surrendering to, and being a part of this day. Tonight,
I hope you can, and will too. We are all here, the team is bedded down, our two
newbies, Ray and Sean are adjusting fine, my mat is calling me, and my laryngitis
is needing reprieve and healing time, more tomorrow. Blessings from St. Marc tonight!</div>
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</style>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-82365297269812182362018-10-22T00:04:00.001-04:002018-10-22T13:47:48.509-04:00DecadeTen years...what can happen in ten years...well if you go to my first blog on this site, over 400 posts ago...so many posts ago my beautiful and talented daughter made a book of them and gave them to me for posterity's sake! It's hard to believe I sit here tonight on the threshold of another chapter in our journey to aid and minister among the Haitian people. I suffer with a nice case of laryngitis, fortunately I don't need my voice to get a blog together, I cannot harness Siri tonight, an incredible technology that has arrived in the last ten years. There are some similarities between this trip and our first one all those years ago, I go to set up a tent just like I did ten years ago. The tent sits in customs tonight as it did ten years ago. But something has changed across all these years of work in Haiti. Me, I've changed. We have been pushed through knot holes, twisted up by circumstances, thwarted often, and yet today the bright light of love and compassion have seen thousands of lives impacted by faith, hope, and love. Tonight as I contemplate, which I most likely will a few times through this trip, I am staggered at what we have been allowed to, blessed to be a part of. As bone weary as we often are, and frustrated by circumstance, we are not discouraged, we are not dismayed. As much as we have been able to carve into this beautiful people a new legacy of hope for a new generation, they have carved into my heart a fresh courage for whatever I face in the driven culture in which I live. And so it is we go tomorrow, to see with fresh eyes the culmination of all the efforts and gifts of grace and mercy we have received across this decade to help and sustain so many lives, the hearts of orphans, of school children, of the destitute, the thirsty, the hungry, the down trodden. Our anxious hearts bed restlessly, as we ready to go, pray for our success, for our way to prosper, for love and light to be shed on many. Blessings to all and goodnight!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-18287211850858500912017-11-01T01:49:00.000-04:002017-11-01T01:49:38.990-04:00Symphony<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Yesterday was what I call a symphony of chaos. A strategy in randomness. A whirlwind of disorder that landed with everything right side up. As I watched Robinson navigate the customs universe of Haiti it was something to behold. He knows his country, his people, and the system that runs it all. His connections are brilliant. As we sat in one place listening to the noise of so many negotiating people, he said to me: ‘I never need to do this’. The dear friend that is doing all the footwork for us is a very powerful and smart woman, but she has had to go all over the place getting our documents stamps and properly verified. I said to Robinson one time as she was walking away from us, she is really sweating. He said, she is really working hard! I knew in that moment that without her, there is no way we would get our trailers for days. In the midst of this activity I purchased new mattresses for our orphan boys beds, their old ones are really worn out. Stuff here is terrible in quality, and the boys are a little rough. On the way to the house I asked Rob how we could get rid of the old ones and he said, someone will need them. I cringed on the inside. But then I remembered the woman I have noticed each day who spends hours sitting or sleeping on a concrete ledge on the street corner close to the Mission house. Sometimes she was naked, sometimes clothed, and I realized she would not even notice the condition of the mattress compared to what she has now. Rob said they have a song in Haiti, whatever you don’t need or want, someone else will. He went on to say it’s the same with people. If there is someone you don’t think you can use, someone else will. How out of sorts does our thinking get. We are a country that proclaims tolerance, and yet divisions abound. 70 churches here in St. Marc work together for a city wide evangelization one time a year, on so many levels this is profound. When I asked Robinson about the differences in the churches, he said we need to set those aside for the greater mission. How quickly we race to judgement on what divides us rather than entertain discussion and forward momentum on what unites us. The woman who is such close friends with Rob is a Seventh Day Adventist, but they way they get along with each other one would suppose they were brother and sister. Back to the symphony, as we tumbled through all the minor cords, all the confusion and chaos, something amazing began to emerge, out of all the twists and turns of the day, we were getting our trailers. The day they came off the ship they come into our hands. Someone recently challenged me on how God does all he does. I was reminded of a saying my Great grandpa used to repeat, 'a God comprehended is no God at all'. We received the trailers into our care after the dock was closed, all the offices were closed, and people were staying around to make our shipment release happen. It’s a miracle people. You may have wondered were the post was last night. Well, we never stopped working all night long. The symphony had a crescendo that landed with me and Robinson at the police station at midnight with them having confiscated the license plate of the Toyota over a parking issue on the street while we unloaded the larger trailer. I was out of my mind with disgust. When you have been in Haiti for ten years and witnessed the kind of parking violations I have that have lasted years, yes, I mean years, take for instance a broken down car parked in front of Rob’s house for years with dogs dying under it. I was ready to give them a piece of my mind. But grace prevailed and I waited for an hour in the Toyota while Rob worked with the police inside the station. I had given him $100 to pay them off, when he finally came out and told me what went down, I was ashamed of myself. His gracious and truthful demeanor along with telling them of the day and his work, ended up with him with his license plate back for free. As he was leaving he said to them all, I am Pastor Robinson Louis and I want to thank you for your good service in the town. Eyes bugged and arms flew up, and shame stormed through the room. They exclaimed to him he should have told them he was a pastor. He said there was no reason to do that, that he was human and was capable of mistakes. They were astounded by his response and told him they were sorry. I think this will be news in town today. It was humor laced with incredible grace. It was a reminder how God takes the chaos and confusion of our often sorry decisions and renders them into a stunning symphony of angelic proportions. As I stood in the darkness at around 12:45 am this morning at the new church property with the new trailer parked on it, I looked up at the star studded sky and couldn’t help but wonder at the accomplishment of the day in spite of everything that had gone wrong, much more had gone right. I won’t lie, I’m exhausted today, at the end of the busiest last day in Haiti ever, but it’s a good feeling. A couple days and we’ll all be fine. It’s been another great trip. Blessings from between St. Marc and home. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-27609890153093417472017-10-31T20:01:00.002-04:002017-10-31T20:01:40.004-04:00Frozen<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I am currently on a plane part way between Miami and Chicago. Our trip is quickly coming to a close. We finished out our last full day in Haiti well last night although I must admit that it turned out differently than I had planned. We all crawled out of our bug tents, got ready for the day, ate breakfast, cleaned up the mission house and got to the orphanage by 9:30. The kids had made sure to inform me that they wanted us to come early in the morning so we could have lots of time together. Everyone had known that it was birthday party day. It is something we've been doing for at least a couple of years now. Our best laid intentions of spending the day playing were vetoed by said party though. The whole place, children included were happily running around cleaning and cooking. You could feel the buzz of excitement vibrating throughout the entire household. Instead of the nice and calm day we had been expecting, we all quickly got sucked into the vortex of preparations for home, preparations for the party, unexpected and last minute tasks and all while trying to handle the idea of leaving. Dad, Lee and Pat spent a great deal of the day working hard to get the trailer off of the docks. Deloris and Mom were busy and hard at work organizing the storage room, taking inventory, passing out the rest of the goods we had brought in the suitcases, as well as tons of other things most people are unaware have to be done on these trips. Abigail and Kelly were rocking it out helping to cook all the food with the Haitian ladies for the party. Emma, Caeli and myself spent hours in a deathly hot kitchen, pouring over 12 giant banners with each of the kids names on them. Our extremely talented Caeli had drawn their names in beautiful lettering for the children to decorate and hang on the walls for their birthday party. It backfired a bit on us this year because they ended up begging us to decorate them because they wanted them to be perfect. So we stood, bent over a table with crayons and paints, drawing everything from flowers and frogs to planets and soccer balls all over these banners. Partway through the afternoon, I could feel tensions getting high. The pressure of getting everything done, spending time with the kids, getting the trailer, not having a translator around and creating a magical party for the children was getting to many if not all of us in different ways. However, everyone pulled together the frayed ends of our emotions and plowed through. Dad and Rob got the trailers off the docks and the house became an even bigger bustle of activity as many hands started bringing every kind of good imaginable and filling nooks and crannies all over the house. The ladies worked themselves to the bone to get all these important but extremely monotonous and tiring jobs finished up. Every table surface in the house was soon filled with bowls and platters of rice, beans, chicken, goat, noodles, plantains and many other things that Abigail and Kelly helped bring to fruition. The living room and kitchen were transformed into a Frozen winter wonderland/ Avengers superhero dream land with everyone's beautiful names acting as a rainbow wallpaper affect in the background. It all fell into place. Our party started much later than planned but the smiles on these kids faces was worth every drop of sweat and every frustration felt throughout the day as they sat listening to Dad tell them why we do these birthday parties. Because we are celebrating the day God placed them on this earth and into our lives. To celebrate how special they are, how important they are and how loved they are. Let me tell you, if you've never been in a room full of children that everyone else has written off as hopeless causes, children who have suffered more in their short lives than most, children with all the odds stacked against them, and tell them the exact opposite of those things... it is an indescribable kind of joy and heartache. We sang, they blew out the candles on their cake, opened their gifts (dolls for the girls and remote control cars for the boys), we ate dinner, passed out Coca Cola bottles for everyone, took pictures with photo booth props, played pin the tail on the donkey, played an intensely wonderful game of 'balloon keep away' with 30 balloons filling the small room and ate cake. It was truly wonderful. Rob and dad had more work to do with the trailer after that even though it was getting late. Us girls all voted to stay at the orphanage even though we didn't know when they would finish and be back to take us to the mission house. I am really grateful that we did that. Those last few hours with the kids were precious. I spent most of it sitting on the floor of the kitchen playing clapping games and talking with the kids. I am not even close to fluent in the language but the kids and I have figured out a simplistic but effective way of communicating back and forth about most things that kids want to talk about. Last nights topic of conversation was all about not wanting us to go. Dina and Otelson gave me a whole list of people they would like for me to bring next time I come. They begged for us to stay another month, another week and finally just one more day. I tried to play along, tease back and smile all while holding my overwhelming emotions at bay. Vladimir fell asleep on my lap and our oldest girl, Liline, who is trying so hard to act and feel grown at the difficult age of 14, leaned curled against me crying for over an hour. I don't even begin to know how to explain this to anyone. I love these kids as much as I can imagine loving my own children someday. They are literally pleading with me not to leave them. Begging me. What do you say to them? I still haven't figured that out. Not sure I ever will. I don't know what God's plan is yet but I was reminded strongly last evening that He is not done with me in Haiti. I don't know why He has called me to this or allowed me to be here but as I went to kiss 13 year old Dina who was sitting on the stairs, goodbye, she wrapped her arm around me, pulling me close and whispered in my ear 'Krystle, please. Everyone else can go home to Michigan but please don't leave. Stay here with me.'. Ugh. I choked back my own sobs and kept them buried deep in my heart as each of them in turn clung to me. No words. We didn't leave until close to 1am. We got back to the mission house to pack, shower and be ready to leave at 4am. The most sleep any of us got before being up again was about 30 minutes. No one seemed to care in the longer scheme of things. Our travels thus far today have been smooth and without any unforeseen difficulties. Prayers for a successful and uneventful finish to home. Also, for a smooth transition to getting back home and jumping back into life. This is something I particularly struggle with. It is never easy for me to switch back and forth. My heart longs and aches for both and it always seems to be a losing battle. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I don't write my posts to sound beautiful, to have perfect grammar, to have profound thoughts or anything else of the kind. They are written to be raw and straight from my heart and hopefully give the tiniest glimpse of what this journey looks and feels like for those who can't be there. I want to thank each of you for reading, supporting, encouraging and praying. You are a very important part to this ministry. Blessings to all from 30,000 feet and somewhere between both of my homes. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-48319758775385145012017-10-30T08:55:00.002-04:002017-10-31T20:05:27.973-04:00Panic<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Another day down. Today was church day which means morning came earlier than our already early mornings. I have decided to tell a truth in this post... for several reasons which I hope to pull into collective thoughts as I continue writing. I have felt that because I have grown up in a Christian home, because I have a personal relationship with Jesus and because I voluntarily go on these trips, that I should just adore Sunday's and going to church while here. Here is the truth though... it is the part of the trip I dread most and is only trumped by one other thing which is leaving. Now, before anyone freaks out, let me explain myself. It is not the act of going to church that I dislike. It is everything that goes with it and piles together, making it feel completely overwhelming. Lack of sleep followed by an early morning. Trying to apply make up that keeps dripping down your face with beads of sweat. Taming manes of frizzy and partially wet hair into something presentable. Stuffing swollen feet into dress shoes. Scarfing down granola bars and cups of coffee. Riding on the back of the Toyota in dress clothes trying to remain unscathed by the dust and dirt we are surrounded by. When you finally pull up to the church gate, you have to crawl over, under, and through scores of people and children, only to be led across the platform in front of the entire congregation to the benches they have recently cleared of people for us. The service starts with singing which is always enjoyable but just a few minutes in, there is so much body heat being produced that the feeling of suffocation becomes a reality. We have a fan... but you can be guaranteed that half of the team is not getting air at any given time. The culture and way of worship is beautiful and inspiring but at the same time, completely different from what most people would be accustomed to. You don't understand one word being said for the first two hours. Your one comfort is when mothers hand you their babies or little ones come up asking to be held... it gives me a momentary sense of purpose but the extra bodies only add to the feeling of death by lack of air. Then comes the moment we have all been waiting for... the one that has left the younger half of this crowd feeling nauseated and stressed out of our minds. We are asked to come onto the platform and 'introduce' ourselves which actually means they would like to hear something personal and meaningful. I talk often about how grateful I am, but when it comes to this situation, I am beyond grateful for a translator as amazing as Claudy who makes us sound good even as we stumble through our introductions. Skip ahead a few hours and I am once again using Claudy's talents to speak with one of my best friends here in Haiti. It's been a difficult year for both of us but he has so few resources to help him and I want to be there for him in whatever way I can. I asked him a question which I have been pondering myself for some time recently. 'What do you want out of life?'. His answer was simple, direct and honest. He knows what he wants. He knows how to get it. He is extremely bright with one of the best personalities a person can be in possession of and unending amounts of talent and potential. He has to take those steps towards what he wants out of this life. His struggles and pain are real. None of these little things we find ourselves complaining about. My heart broke as he poured out his heart to me, tears quietly slipping from his eyes and down his face as he described the horror that is currently his life. I told him he is more loved than he can possibly imagine and that this is just a chapter in his story. There were lots of hugs and tears and 'I love you's' passed around and I felt a piece of my heart slip back into place. He thanked me and told me how much I mean to him but he has no idea that I was given as much help this afternoon by him. My challenge for him was to attend church on Sunday's for the month of November. I told him that even if it's uncomfortable, even if he doesn't feel anything from God, even if the whole thing seems severely uncomfortable, just to show up and be there. See what God does from there. I laughed at myself afterwards because I gave the exact advice I needed to hear. It was a stressful morning getting ready but I was ready on time. I felt like death through part of the service but I got to hold some precious kids who needed me in that moment. I had made myself practically ill over speaking in front of a crowd but I did it... and I actually spoke pretty well as did the rest of the team. I heard a great and uplifting message from my father. As the service ended, I had streams of people approach me for greetings, hugs, kisses and pictures. And you know what? I looked decent enough in my photos. It was actually a pretty fantastic morning. God blessed me in a huge way just for going through the motions this morning exactly as I later told my dear friend would happen for him. I swear God has a killer sense of humor. It was a fantastic reminder for me today that sometimes, you just keep going. You don't have to understand how or why. You don't have to be happy or feel capable. Sometimes you just put one foot in front of the other and trust in the fact that God will lead the way. I have more to share about our day but it will have to wait for another blog, as this one is already much too long! Love and blessings to all who are following this amazing journey. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-34876859060270629712017-10-30T08:39:00.002-04:002017-10-30T08:39:18.818-04:00Taming<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Another day down. Today was church day which means morning came earlier than our already early mornings. I have decided to tell a truth in this post... for several reasons which I hope to pull into collective thoughts as I continue writing. I have felt that because I have grown up in a Christian home, because I have a personal relationship with Jesus and because I voluntarily go on these trips, that I should just adore Sunday's and going to church while here. Here is the truth though... it is the part of the trip I dread most and is only trumped by one other thing which is leaving. Now, before anyone freaks out, let me explain myself. It is not the act of going to church that I dislike. It is everything that goes with it and piles together, making it feel completely overwhelming. Lack of sleep followed by an early morning. Trying to apply make up that keeps dripping down your face with beads of sweat. Taming manes of frizzy and partially wet hair into something presentable. Stuffing swollen feet into dress shoes. Scarfing down granola bars and cups of coffee. Riding on the back of the Toyota in dress clothes trying to remain unscathed by the dust and dirt we are surrounded by. When you finally pull up to the church gate, you have to crawl over, under, and through scores of people and children, only to be led across the platform in front of the entire congregation to the benches they have recently cleared of people for us. The service starts with singing which is always enjoyable but just a few minutes in, there is so much body heat being produced that the feeling of suffocation becomes a reality. We have a fan... but you can be guaranteed that half of the team is not getting air at any given time. The culture and way of worship is beautiful and inspiring but at the same time, completely different from what most people would be accustomed to. You don't understand one word being said for the first two hours. Your one comfort is when mothers hand you their babies or little ones come up asking to be held... it gives me a momentary sense of purpose but the extra bodies only add to the feeling of death by lack of air. Then comes the moment we have all been waiting for... the one that has left the younger half of this crowd feeling nauseated and stressed out of our minds. We are asked to come onto the platform and 'introduce' ourselves which actually means they would like to hear something personal and meaningful. I talk often about how grateful I am, but when it comes to this situation, I am beyond grateful for a translator as amazing as Claudy who makes us sound good even as we stumble through our introductions. Skip ahead a few hours and I am once again using Claudy's talents to speak with one of my best friends here in Haiti. It's been a difficult year for both of us but he has so few resources to help him and I want to be there for him in whatever way I can. I asked him a question which I have been pondering myself for some time recently. 'What do you want out of life?'. His answer was simple, direct and honest. He knows what he wants. He knows how to get it. He is extremely bright with one of the best personalities a person can be in possession of and unending amounts of talent and potential. He has to take those steps towards what he wants out of this life. His struggles and pain are real. None of these little things we find ourselves complaining about. My heart broke as he poured out his heart to me, tears quietly slipping from his eyes and down his face as he described the horror that is currently his life. I told him he is more loved than he can possibly imagine and that this is just a chapter in his story. There were lots of hugs and tears and 'I love you's' passed around and I felt a piece of my heart slip back into place. He thanked me and told me how much I mean to him but he has no idea that I was given as much help this afternoon by him. My challenge for him was to attend church on Sunday's for the month of November. I told him that even if it's uncomfortable, even if he doesn't feel anything from God, even if the whole thing seems severely uncomfortable, just to show up and be there. See what God does from there. I laughed at myself afterwards because I gave the exact advice I needed to hear. It was a stressful morning getting ready but I was ready on time. I felt like death through part of the service but I got to hold some precious kids who needed me in that moment. I had made myself practically ill over speaking in front of a crowd but I did it... and I actually spoke pretty well as did the rest of the team. I heard a great and uplifting message from my father. As the service ended, I had streams of people approach me for greetings, hugs, kisses and pictures. And you know what? I looked decent enough in my photos. It was actually a pretty fantastic morning. God blessed me in a huge way just for going through the motions this morning exactly as I later told my dear friend would happen for him. I swear God has a killer sense of humor. It was a fantastic reminder for me today that sometimes, you just keep going. You don't have to understand how or why. You don't have to be happy or feel capable. Sometimes you just put one foot in front of the other and trust in the fact that God will lead the way. I have more to share about our day but it will have to wait for another blog, as this one is already much too long! Love and blessings to all who are following this amazing journey. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Krystle </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-78820881240733423042017-10-29T23:22:00.002-04:002017-10-29T23:22:20.327-04:00Distant
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Normally Sunday in Haiti after church is over I drop into a
lower gear, slow down, and begin a general shift in the homeward direction. Not
that we are going home yet, but settling in with the fact that the trip is
quickly coming to a close. For some reason today was radically different. First
off, here in Haiti the time changed and few knew it. We’re not connected to
cell towers so our phones aren’t showing a time change. But it did never the
less. When we arrived at the church it was the biggest Sunday morning crowd I have
ever experienced. Halfway through the singing the borrowed sound system conked
out. When I announced to the church that I had a new sound system in our
shipment, they clapped and cheered with joy! One of the themes of this trip for
me has been patience. Watching these people deal with all kinds of crazy stuff
and never get edgy is just incredible to observe all over again. Many had to
sit through the service this morning, not even able to hear what I had to say,
and yet they sat there, attentive, relaxed, and content. I confessed to the
people in my message this morning that my American blood runs cold and slow with
patience. I could fill this post tonight with all the other things we managed
to pull off today, but for me the most important moment came unexpectedly. I
confess I am a pusher, and I find it hard to sit still. So my connection with
our orphans has been much more distant than let’s say Beth, or Krystle. As I
came though the house this afternoon, Vanessa caught my eye, she and I have
connected more deeply this trip, I smiled at her then paused beside her to give
her a quick side hug and continue on my mission, which now I don’t even
remember because as I pulled her up and bent over to give her a kiss on the
forehead she folded right into my side. Normally they push away from me on their
own missions to play or fulfil some task they have been given, I stopped, feeling
her boney little back touching my arm, I lifted my arm and began to massage her
neck and then her back and felt her muscles relax. Haiti is such a hard land,
so unforgiving, so rough, I could feel the Haitian clutch upon her. In that moment
nothing else mattered, she needed to feel the salve of my love, not someone
else’s, mine. This trip has been more relational for me than previous trips,
heaven knows how much I love these people, but I have loved Robinson most of
all, and dedicated my energy and time trying to follow the God vision he has,
and in turn that I have, to bring the Gospel to these people. But in this
serene moment, vision was not what Vanessa needed, she needed to feel a father’s
love. The tenderness of her melting into my embrace I can still feel tonight,
several hours later. We shouldn’t want the chapters of the books of our lives
written about what we accomplished, what we acquired, or how famous we were,
but what lives we touched in being God’s hand extended. In Haiti where its
President has laid out the five problems the country has: corruption,
corruption, corruption, corruption, corruption, we serve out heaping platters
of love, love, love, love, and love. It could be argued that love alone cannot
change a country or corruption, but tonight, as I sit here pondering the day,
and a beautiful little soul named Vanessa, I’m confident that the love of God
alone can actually change a nation. Our text from Psalm 33:13-22 actually lays
out that fact quite clearly. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we labor
on in love today, steadfast love. Tomorrow promises to be a big day, lots on
the agenda, including hopefully seeing access to our goods at the dock. But
tonight that still remains in second place to the larger agenda of spreading
love out in thick and unreasonable measures. We have so appreciated the
comments and encouragement from home. We pray we finish well. Blessings always
from St. Marc. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-21889355795443620372017-10-28T23:57:00.000-04:002017-10-28T23:57:30.795-04:00Curtain
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As the curtain drops on day 6 of this trip, my mind feels a
bit like jello. I studied pretty intently today between several meetings and
trips around town. Robinson and I misunderstood a financial transaction between
us early this morning which took us to the ship dock to sort out. Last night I
began to feel like we wouldn’t see our trailers today, and tonight as I type
away, they are still on the ship. We were down and checked in on the unloading
process several times, and I never saw our rig or the trailers out on the dock.
Our meeting this morning was about keeping our stuff safe while they clear
customs, and there is one less day I have to worry about because tonight it is
safely inside the ship. The grace of finding the important things to be
grateful for when the hoped for plan does not come to fruition. I’m sitting at
the dining room table in the kitchen of the mission house working on this post,
Robinson is laying on the tile floor next to me drifting in and out of sleep.
He is sleeping on a couple sheets and a thin quilt used as padding. He sleeps
in front of the door that is the access to the house. If you’re going to get to
us, you will need to clear him first. It always gets to me at certain moments,
this giant of a man was once a discarded orphan boy. I had to talk straight to
our orphan boys this trip, a couple of them have crossed into that age where every
young person comes to, and I shared with them a couple details of his early years.
It changed the tenor of the conversation. Not that they are being bad boys,
they are just struggling with growing into their new ages. Robinson is a very
gifted and discerning individual and is and inspiration to me every time I get
the opportunity to be around him. He was up all night for the long night prayer
service, he came in this morning early having already been to the dock to check
on the ship, we turned around and went back down to get the paperwork started
on our shipment and then plowed through our days activities and he never
stopped. So now my 22 hours to get here is nothing compared to his 41 hours he
has been awake taking care of his own church family, managing a big project at
our new property, taking care of a team of ten Americans, and handling the details
of getting his family back into town from the funeral of his wife’s grandma. Did
I mention he is a busy guy. And yet he never lost his cool, he sweeps along effortlessly,
gracefully, and lovingly among his culture. I would like to believe a bit of
him is rubbing off on me. This morning I told him I was no longer concerned if
I got to have the goods off the trailers before I left. I surrendered all the details
up last night and was unwilling to miss the other poignant and needed moments
of this trip. I am speaking from Psalm 33 in the morning. I’m going to speak on
hope. In my message I make the point that all the free goods we have by way of
clothing and shoes will likely be pretty much worn out in just a few months. The
country is so harsh and hard on stuff. I didn’t even work excessively today but
as I washed off in the shower tonight I could not help but notice the trial of
dirty water headed to the drain. The stuff we do and bring is but momentary,
what will bring peace and contentment for a lifetime? I Corinthians 13:13
reminds us that faith, hope, and love remain, the greatest is love. We do our best
to bring all three. This is the biggest truth we bring, the greatest good we
seed, and it stands in stark contrast to everything around us, in a culture
hardened by years of aggressive poverty. I’m grateful for an orphan tonight, I’m
grateful grace has erased his hardness, I’m grateful our lives have
intersected. It’s a profound journey to be on. And I’m glad for all those
connected with us on this incredible mission! Blessings from St. Marc! </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-9155910065384968652017-10-28T12:26:00.000-04:002017-10-28T12:26:15.531-04:00Core<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Good evening, from Saint Marc. Keeping up with the days is just not going to be a thing this trip around. Too busy to write as much as I'd like. I've been able to get a lot more time with the orphans than on some of our past team trips. Especially with our older kids as Robinson's children are with Naromie in Desdunes for her grandmothers funeral. Having a couple of days without the distractions that come with little ones has been really nice for our older kids. They are all growing and changing at a rapid pace. So goes life... though I am not here with them nearly as often as I would like, time does not stop or even slow down. People come and go, things live and die, and children grow up. Sometimes, the thought of all the things I am missing in their lives, tears at the very core of my heart. Very few people understand how much they mean to me. None of these things stop the ongoing march of time though. The patience these people possess astounds me. Day in and day out they perform the same monotonous tasks just to handle the basics of life such as eating, drinking, personal hygiene and sleeping. Outside of these things, there is little for them to do. I watch as they sit for hours, not grumbling or complaining or becoming anxious about things. I am jealous of it. And I realize that we only have a couple of options. We can kick and scream and cry but time will still be holding firmly to our hand, dragging us to the finish line whether we want to go or not. It is inevitable. That leaves us with the second option, being that we can take the moments as they come, ride out the storms, find joy and contentment where we can, acceptance as it is needed and most importantly, let God work His plan through our lives. If we do that, time is still there but we are walking together towards something better than the long and winding roads we are currently journeying. Just because I am writing this out, it does not mean I know how to do this part of life very gracefully. But, I have 8 of the best teachers in this department one could possibly hope for. Their struggles have been innumerable and are not yet finished. And yet, they somehow manage to fill that house with more light and joy than I ever thought was humanly possible. Growing they are, but they still embody the same beautiful souls I have known since they were tiny. God has plans for these kids, just like He has for each of us he has placed on this earth. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">As for other happenings, play time with the orphans is always a highlight for everyone. Games, toys and movies unending. Lee, Emma and I got a special opportunity that doesn't usually happen on team trips. The other 7 team members left for Desdunes while the three of us stayed behind to watch the kids. Emma and I immediately got drawn into a very intense and sweaty game of street hockey with two shoes as the goals. It was the two American girls against the boys and with all of the laughter that was ringing through the house, I'd say we provided them with quite the show! It ended when Emma spotted a very large spider which the boys were kind enough to beat to death. They then proceeded to chase her through the house with the corpse of said arachnid on the end of their hockey stick. We decorated every inch of concrete in the courtyard with chalk drawings, ate lots of snacks, colored pictures and just hung out and enjoyed being together. All of the girls are fantastic at making meal time happen but Emma has been my girl for four years now and we decided to tackle our favorite meal (that is me being sarcastic since this meal usually ends with us in tears on the balcony... ha!), ham, potatoes and corn. If you've never stood over a propane cook stove with a hose the spontaneously catches fire, sweat dripping, literally dripping from your face onto the pan below, frying 12 gelatinous masses of mystery 'ham' that leaves a film of grease over your whole body, you have not experienced true joy. As I stated before, this meal has never failed to bring us to tears at some point and time in the cooking process... and the fall trip of 2017 was no different. And yet, it is our favorite meal to make for reasons unknown. It might be Krystle and Emma's one true purpose on these trips... cooking the ham which happens to be the Haitians favorite food we bring. It was a successful day! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Lots more games and fun today. Rob worked hard to arrange for a large amount of our students to come to his house to write thank you notes, gather updated info and have their picture taken to be sent to sponsors for this coming school year. It has been nice to do it in a smaller and less overwhelming version, especially for the kids. Everyone has been doing an amazing job with it but I must send a shoutout to Caeli who has been rocking it out in school department. Whenever a new child shows up, she is the first to jump up and help them, often times leaving her food sitting so she can help. She has taken beautiful pictures of each of them, working hard to make sure the children are happy with their photo and feel special. Hopefully, we will still be able to finish with the majority of them before leaving. Tonight is sleepover night. The orphans always ask to come spend the night at the mission house with us and this year we were able to make it happen. We gathered snacks, glow sticks, movies, blankets, 8 children and we piled everyone and everything into the Toyota. We ended the evening with a showing of Wonder Woman. Half an hour into the movie, 5 of the 8 were fast asleep. Abigail was sharing her lap with sweet Bigodson. Caeli made room for Otelson on her folding chair who fell asleep sitting up. Iftha was using Emma as a bed and I had Vanessa and Liline using my legs as pillows, their arms wrapped all around me. We were all sweating and sore from sitting on the concrete but couldn't bring ourselves to move and wake up our sleeping angels. When it was time, the oldest boys made their beds on the half balcony with Kelly and the four girls slept on the porch with the four of us girls. It was a beautiful and tangled mess of sheets, blankets and children everywhere. I can't sleep, so I am sitting in the dark surrounded by gentle breathing and what I pray are peaceful dreams. My heart is full tonight. Haiti is great and terrible all at once and it gives one this feeling of sad happiness. Happy to be here, happy to see God work but sad that things are this way and people can hurt so badly. However, tonight, I choose to be grateful. I am abundantly grateful for all of it. The great and the terrible all at once. Goodnight, from a little house in the middle of St. Marc, Haiti. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-82503311544437702922017-10-27T23:54:00.002-04:002017-10-27T23:54:20.657-04:00Directional
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Today was one of those strange days for me. I was ready to
move with all our goods from the trailers…except that the ship did not arrive. I
would like to say I had a great back up plan. But the backup plan boils down to
this, wait. Haiti has a way of conforming you to it’s way of life. If you fight
it, you will be frustrated on so many fronts. Tonight, I sit here typing and
trying to get my head right. Part of my problem is that for years I have worked
to Americanize our trips. Our newest member Pat has reminded me of just how
much I have pulled it off. There is a steep disconnect between what we
experience here on the ground now and what these people live through every day.
Right now, power is on in our half of the city, but we are one of the few
houses on the street with all our lights on. There is a small freezer here in
the mission house, when the power is on the first thing they do is rush to plug
it in. If the power stays on long enough, the ice box will get cool enough to
produce cold water. Nothing in it will ever freeze because the power never
stays on for more than a couple hours, and then is out for days. It still only
comes on at night in St. Marc. The house we stay in has tiled floors, wood trim
around the doors, glass in the windows. It has flushing toilets, running water,
and most of the conveniences of home. But while I sit here tying on my 15”
speedy Macbook pro, 2000 people are across town in a long night prayer service
begging God for food, for work, for a home, for the most basic of necessities.
Today I was on lock down, apparently, I needed a fresh reconnect. As I sat at
the orphanage watching the stream of children coming through for their school
registration for next year, I noticed one of the mother’s clutching herself up
high by her underarm. After I observed her for a couple of minutes I went over
to her and asked her if she was in pain. She was. I asked our resident nurse Abigail
and my wife Beth to check her out. It turns out she has a very large tumor
under her arm. It’s location and size are alarming, and worse, she hasn’t been
able to afford to see a doctor. She has two beautiful young children. Her
husband has done a lot of carpentry work for us across the years. We sent her
quickly off to the doctor with a $50-dollar bill. We haven’t heard anything yet
tonight, and we might not. Haiti has a way of swallowing its own into anonymity.
On the best day in Haiti life is stripped down to a very raw form of living.
Our orphans are spending the night with us, it’s a rare treat to be away from the
orphanage for a night, but in contrast to the rest of the children in Haiti
tonight, for them there is never a respite. My ambitious claim for today is
that I built a toy. What’s in a toy you may ask? A lot of humility, and a very
happy child who is fascinated by the world of mechanics. Stripped of wise words
and inspirational thoughts, with no tools in my hand, or the back of rig to
stand on. With a few pieces of plastic I built something grander than I have for
a while, a marble machine. No, it didn’t bring water to the masses, no it didn’t
fill a church with the sound of tinkling cymbals, but it did make the eyes of a
little boy dance as we pumped marbles through our little tower. I watched his
eyes track the gears and wheels and screws. I watched him take in the path of
gravity, the directional changes of the balls as the tubes sent the marbles
first to the right and then back to the left. This kid is bright, he is our
littlest orphan, he is 6 and goes to school Monday through Thursday from 8am to
5pm. He is writing in brilliant cursive! As I go through the checks and
balances of the days’ objectives, of all the things I did today, and will
perhaps through this whole trip, probably the hour spent on the floor with a
six-year-old will count for more in eternity than anything else I will do. His
eyes popping with wonder as he watched me build was my reminder that sometimes
the greatest gift we give is the gift of time. I learned that on my very first
trip into Haiti, today, in one smooth brush stroke, God sent me back there for
a refresher course. The house is mostly quiet now, I am sitting here waiting
for the tank to fill, we discovered tonight there must be a leak that has
drained away a couple hundred of gallons of water. To add to the complexity of
the day and late evening was the discovery that there was no water for the rest
of the team to shower. All these things are meant to tear at our callouses, to
reshape our perspective, to properly reinstate our purpose and understanding
for why we are actually here. As of 11:00pm tonight the boat was not into the
dock yet, so I’m not setting my hope on that for tomorrow, my Hope is in Him
who sent me, to do His bidding among these people, it will all happen in His
time. Of this I am sure. Time for some rest, and to prepare my Sunday morning
message, blessings to all from St. Marc tonight!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-36830439221949244372017-10-27T09:06:00.002-04:002017-10-27T09:06:26.980-04:00Soul<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">In four simple words, I have missed Haiti. The last two days have been a beautiful reminder to me of how much my heart longs for this. And might I just add, sharing this trip with my three best friends is an indescribable blessing. That is also an understatement but the best I could come up with in my current state of delirious exhaustion. These three girls are unbelievably amazing and vary greatly in their different talents, personalities and gifting's but together make a perseverant and unstoppable trio whom I am honored to call my friends and sisters. Yesterday morning, our visit to the new church property was a highlight moment. You can feel God's presence at work already. Robinson immediately pointed out to me that not only had they hired men to work on the job site, but two women as well. And I'm not meaning light labor. These girls were carrying around rocks and mixing concrete like pros. It always makes me happy to see forward motion in our ministries provision of opportunities for women to care for themselves and their families. My eyes were immediately drawn to the three neighbor children across the way. I tossed lollipops across the large ditch that was dug between our properties and the kids went wild with excitement. We turned around only to discover 3 more children who had appeared seemingly from nowhere. And so it continued until our group of 3 had grown into more than 30. Caeli is of course the queen of games and activities and led the kids all over the property playing and running and dancing, not giving a second thought to how hot and tired she must have been. Abigail has a quiet and special presence that she offers freely and to anyone near her. The children who make it into her arms are wrapped in an understanding and love that only a person with the largest and most caring heart could possibly give. Emma walks around Haiti with a grace and fearlessness she has no idea she possesses. As soon as there is a need, no matter how small or inconsequential, she is there to make it happen followed with a smile, a hug and a whole lot of laughter. Watching these lovely ladies give all that they have without looking back to those kids was a beautiful sight indeed. A precious little boy around three years old, found his way into my arms and left an imprint on my heart that few have ever done. He was covered in dust and the red t-shirt that served as his outfit hung down around his ankles. As soon as I picked him up, he melted into my arms and laid his head down as though he had just been waiting for someone to give him a place to rest his weary, little soul. As I held him in the blistering heat with sweat literally dripping off of me, I took in my surroundings even more. It was gorgeous. The shrubbery looked green and luscious, climbing up the side of the mountain. But, there was no shade, there was only one house I could see from where I was at and then... nothing. Where did these little ones come from? Where do they rest when they are tired? Where do they go if they need help? Who takes care of them and loves them? Robinson announced that it was time to go and we started saying our goodbyes, my little friend still on my hip. I asked Rob if he was sure I couldn't take him home with me to which he replied, "It seems you have asked me this many times, especially in the last 5 years! I do not think the answer is different."....... I laughed but secretly mourned the fact that I knew he was right. I hugged and kissed this sweet child and went to set him down. He immediately locked his arms around my neck and clung to me with a fierceness that I could only admire from one so small. My heart broke, and I fought off tears as one of the older boys gently pried his tiny arms from around me. I smiled and waved and told him I loved him as I was the last person climbing onto the back of the Toyota. The children quickly dispersed as we started the long trek back to the main road. All except one, that is. My (yes, I did mean to refer to him as mine) precious boy started running after our vehicle as fast as his legs could take him, his long, red, t-shirt just short enough that he didn't trip. I thought that after the first hill, he would stop. But, oh no. This little one is a fighter and he proceeded to run for quarter of a mile with a determination I have rarely been witness to in this life. My heart broke. As we crested another hill and he stopped on the side of the road next to a small hut that I could only imagine was his home, I realized I didn't even know his name. What must a child feel like to be willing to go with a complete stranger whom they know nothing about? Literally, heart wrenching in my mind. My thoughts were consumed by this on our ride home and I was praying for him. Then I realized something. Maybe the best thing that could happen in this child's life is happening now. He has the second closest house to our church property. He and all of these other kids could be the future of CCC Haiti (see Facebook for a picture of some of them). God provided me with an astounding amount of peace in that moment. One of those rare times we are left questioning God's plans but He gives us a glimpse of the bigger picture. Tonight I am grateful beyond measure. I was planning on fitting more into this blog about all of the happenings on this grand adventure but it seems I will have to extend it into another blog if I am going to rest at all before the sun rises. Thank you for all of your prayers, support and encouragement. Much love from Haiti.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Krystle </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-32837968501062023122017-10-26T21:40:00.002-04:002017-10-26T21:40:20.439-04:00Resistant
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Every time I come to Haiti it’s inevitable that folks ask if
it’s better now? Having been coming here for 10 years, it’s a fair question.
But it’s also such a loaded question to try to answer. Some aspects of things
here have improved remarkably. Modes of transportation, specifically motorcycle
taxi’s have increased at a rate I cannot even measure. Which means the general
economy is up some as many are using the taxi’s. There seems to be more building
going on which would also indicate some improvement. As I went over details at
the property today our engineer expressed to me that he was building everything
earthquake resistant. That caught my attention. The devastation of 2010 did
apparently create some new sticking points for some. We stood by a church
building not too far away from our church property and I asked the engineer what
he thought of it, he said there were cracks in it from the earthquake, and
nobody was taking care of it, and he didn’t think the building would be good
for very much longer. I hadn’t even noticed the cracking. I didn’t think
anything in St. Marc had suffered much damage, but apparently to the trained
eye, it’s worse than previously thought. Enough so that he is taking measures
to build even our fence walls in a way that will withstand those tremors. I was
grateful to find this out. He is a really sharp man as I expressed in my blog
yesterday. So, there are changes for the good. But as we drove to Desdunes
today to deliver Rob’s family for a funeral Saturday, I was remiss to see that
things elsewhere have actually depreciated. A positive is that they are getting
good water supplies to the rice fields from the government. But passing down
the dusty streets of Desdunes we navigated around so many piles of trash. The
straw and mud homes are telling the testing of time and are not holding up. One
we passed reminded me of the ‘Leaning Tower of Peza’. I’m not sure that a hefty
wind and rain storm won’t finish it off. There were so many building projects
unfinished with trees 5’ and 6’ tall growing up in the foundations. So many
crushed dreams and vanquished hope’s. A few is one thing, to see so many lining
the streets is heart rending. But we passed out candy to the children, we
started with two, and told them to go get their friends, they came in droves,
and they didn’t come in costumes, quite the opposite, they came with not much
on at all. One naked boy approached and I went toward him with a bag of candy
and coloring page, before I could get to him he turned and ran in terror. I
felt bad because so many try to come back for second’s concealing in what sparse
clothing they do have on what they already have received in their little gift
pack, this little naked one couldn’t hide a thing, and went away with nothing.
As we drove to another location in town we came through an intersection and
coming down the street from my left was a crowd of children in a storm of dust
from their pounding feet trying to keep up with us. As we pulled to a stop they
came bounding up to us with expectant faces. I like to believe we sowed fresh
hope into 250 children tonight. I’ve read what one pin drop of hope can do, and
what it can grow into, I like to think we seeded at least a pin drop of unexpected
hope into these children today. There are innumerable broken things in this
country, and perhaps some things will never be fixed. Even as we drove to
Desdunes today the driver finished his bottled drink, rolled down the window
and pitched it out… but then again, I’ve seen that happen in the States, if it weren’t
for bottle deposits, it would likely be worse. Humanity is kind of the same
everywhere, just some places have better checks and balances. Of this I am confident,
with each hug, with each touch, with each word of affirmation, change is
coming. As we educate, love unconditionally, and give the hope of God to all,
change hinges on these things. No amount of money can heal a broken heart. I believe
only the loving heart can bring healing to the broken heart. The love of Christ
constrains me to these people, as it does our wonderful team. Our newest
recruit Pat is doing well, every time I ask how she is doing her answer is ‘I’m
good’. Tomorrow will be halfway through our journey here; the time is passing
faster here every trip I take now. At year ten, my veteran instincts must be
taking over and time’s train seems to increase speed between stops. Goodnight
to all and blessings from St. Marc. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-17522195155493584642017-10-26T09:19:00.000-04:002017-10-26T09:19:11.957-04:00Recognized<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This was written 3 days ago: </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I don't usually write blogs on a trip that both my father and I go on. Honestly, I just feel inadequate in my writing skills compared to him. I have felt a need to write though, and it seems to be overtaking my silly fears. Traveling yesterday couldn't have gone smoother as far as airports and international travels go. It has to be in my top 5 for easiest trips into country which is something I am extremely grateful for. For reasons that make no sense, I have been struggling getting ready for this trip. And easy travel only gave my brain more time to lead me down twisted pathways and shadowed trails in my thoughts. I referred to some of these things in my previous blog. It is difficult to put into words the things running through my head. Basically, I spent 22 travel hours stressing about arriving to my destination. Mostly stressing about my place on this trip, my place with this team, my place with these people whom I love so dearly. A lot has changed in the past year for me, and I feel different. Not in a bad way necessarily, just different. And within that, I feel like I may not be what everyone needs or wants. And that scares me. Why? Because what we want most in life as human beings is to be loved. To be recognized and applauded for being uniquely us while simultaneously being accepted into a group. Whether that group is a random team of people headed to a foreign country, a group of friends, a church, an orphanage of children, or even your own family; that has been a longing of my heart for a long time. I've gotten pretty good at fitting into molds shaped by other people. Lately, however, that is something I've been trying to avoid doing. Because I am wasting my time trying to fit into the molds people are making for me instead of the one God has placed before me. The one with my name on it. The one that my heart and dreams and hopes fit into. I think that this specific thing is often what leaves one feeling lonely even when surrounded by people. How can you feel loved and understood when you're constantly trying to be someone else? Of course, you have to take the steps towards being okay to be exactly what God has made you to be. And there in lies my problem. After 3 planes, 4 airports, one very long and dusty bus ride, very little sleep and many other adventures along the way, our very large school bus pulled up to a little house, shrouded in darkness. Emma and I hopped off the bus, avoiding the sewer that runs in front of the orphanage. There was no sound as we swung the large, metal gate open and made our way across the courtyard. And then there was an eruption of giggles from inside the door to the house and I was rushed to by 11 of the most amazing kids I have ever known. Hugs, kisses, kids calling my name telling me how much they love me, how happy they are to see me, how badly they have missed me. That was all it took for me. Their love is so pure and innocent. It exudes from their very beings and shines through their bright, little eyes. How can I not know that the love and adoration they feel for me is real? I don't see these things in myself, but they most certainly do. And unbeknownst to them, they wiped out any fear I may have had to be on this trip in less than a minute. For a moment, I understood and felt very clearly what they see in me. And I realized, all the things we often hate about ourselves, are the very things that people </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">love most about us. This doesn't mean we should ever quit trying to better ourselves. But maybe we should quit trying to be something God didn't create us to be. Haiti has a way of stripping away the barriers we put up, the facades we put on, the many costumes we don. It may feel uncomfortable at first but it is something I am looking forward to this week. God has a plan for each person who is here this week, a specific reason we are here and serving as best we can. I am up for the challenge that He has placed before me. I am grateful to have been called. Go forth into the next 9 days, I will. Thank you to all of those back home for your prayers and support. Much love to all from my little balcony that happens to be my home away from home!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Krystle </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-86971281926096695752017-10-25T23:15:00.004-04:002017-10-25T23:15:28.120-04:00Engineer
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The maze of another day has come to a close. We started out
our day with a visit to the new property, and it is amazing! Robinson has been sending
me a few pictures of the progress, and while they say a picture is worth a
thousand words, being here and seeing it first hand is just stunning. What they
have engineered for the property and are doing by hand right now is a wonder.
The foundation for the property wall is progressing very well, and I know it
sounds crazy, but where the property is located in a valley coming out of a
mountain great care has been taken to be able to control and handle the flow of
water the mountain will produce. A viaduct will run through the middle of the
property that will allow proper drainage from top to bottom and side to side.
Our engineer is one bright man. It’s always a concern who you can end up
working with in third world countries, but one of the graces we have been
afforded over time is being surrounded with really great people. I was able to
catch a quick glance of the work yesterday and on the final descent into the
front of the property Robinson pointed out a boulder 4’ by 4’ in circumference.
He said he had two men move it from where they need to put in more foundation
to across the road, about 35’. It took the men two days, and they moved it without
any equipment. Robinson paid them $400 Haitian dollars to move it. That’s $32
American dollars for two men for two days. Divide 32 in half and they made a
whopping $8 dollars apiece per day for two days doing the impossible. The next
time you want complain about working too hard for your wages, remember this
story. I cannot believe they pulled it off. Seeing it reminded me of something
out of ancient literature, except they didn’t have horses, or logs, or even 10
more men. I still marvel at their ingenuity. Given proper tooling, combined with
their tremendous work ethic Stateside, they would be hard to compete with. We
spent about an hour there today, and it didn’t take long for many children to
come out of the mountain side and join our young bunch for games. They grab
ahold of your heart quickly. The area is desperate for water, and we have found
a couple wells recently hand dug in the neighborhood across the highway that
indicate we won’t have to go very deep for our water. With a solar pump
installed I calculated today that we could deliver the upwards of 8000 gallons
of fresh water a day. It’s going to change the lives of thousands, and they can
hardly wait. Our rig and trailers are crossing the ocean coming at us, weather
permitting and smooth sailing we should see the ship Friday morning and get
access to our trailers. It will take a couple of days to get the rig out of
customs, but then we will be able to commence our drilling activity and
hopefully have a well up and working in the next few weeks. Beth spoke for another
segment of her teaching the Power of the Praying wife series with the married
women this afternoon and I followed her with our first men’s meeting which went
very well also. We shared on the story of Gideon and God’s selection process
for a few good men. It was well received. Tomorrow we head to Desdunes to
express condolences to Naromie’s family on the loss of her Grandma who passed
away last week. The funeral will be Saturday. This death has caused our trip to
change around a bit, but we are making it work. We are having fun with the
orphans, and trying to stay cool. Weariness is stealing my thunder for tonight,
will send more updates tomorrow. Tidings of joy from St. Marc! </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8647193623981061693.post-10697625954795562132017-10-25T08:57:00.002-04:002017-10-25T08:57:54.395-04:00Pallid
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Patience is such a great virtue! But I can tell you at
moments when the opposite of patience is rewarded so exponentially in our
culture, it’s a hard thing for us to get our heads around. I am used to getting
what I need, when I need it, with minimal delay. If I should sit too long
through a drive through I get frustrated, if I must wait for a web page to load
too long I get aggravated, matter of fact, I’ve noticed since the new iOS 11
update that my calls are connected much faster (albeit a few split seconds). We
are conditioned for speed. Robinson commented yesterday at breakfast about a young
ice delivery boy who had been sent to deliver ice by his boss, he was very
demanding that someone come out quickly and get their ice. Apparently they had
to wait for Rob to get to the house with the money, and when he did he received
the story of the young man in a rush. He told the young man to go back and tell
his boss not to send him to the house anymore. To send someone who was not in a
rush, because they were not in a rush here. On so many levels I balked at the
story. Whatever I need, I need now in a 911. But I am learning that rushing
ruins things. We are not a culture who savors things anymore, consumerism breeds
pallid taste buds. Buyers remorse fills the market place, and we don’t know the
joy of moments. I shouldn’t say ‘we’, I should say ‘me’. I don’t mean to judge.
But here in Haiti, all I see is waiting. If patience is a great virtue, this
culture gets a gold star. There are a lot of my comfort zones that are violated
in Haiti, but this one is my biggest. The feeling of responsibility to perform,
to get it done, to accomplish what they say can’t be done is always foreboding
and present. Always in my peripheral vision is the undone, unfinished, unfulfilled,
it looms as a constant reminder that my goals must always be tempered with the
reality that my time is not God’s time. I’m learning the virtue of savoring the
moments. This trip is reminding me how time is eroding away at my body. What
would happened if I could no longer ‘do’. What if my strength totally waned,
what kind of man would I be then? We were reminded in our devotion yesterday that
God uses our weaknesses more than our strengths. I think patience erodes at our
pride, it is the antidote to ‘me’. Waiting actually increases faith muscles, at
least that’s what it feels like to me. I am slowly gaining more strength and resolve
through the interminable periods I find myself in a holding pattern, which in
Haiti happens many times a day. Today we have a women’s service and a men’s
service, along with a host of miscellaneous other little things to get done. We
are grateful for the opportunity to serve, and serve we will, bring on another
dose of patience please! Blessings from St. Marc. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2