Infirmary

9:37 pm. Where has the time gone? 5 hours until go time, and 9 travelers will gather our 22 suitcases, 9 carry-ons and 9 personal bags. A year has past, and what a year it has been. The infirmary called on Dec. 30th, and it was my name that was called. But through sickness, death, and other unmentionable changes, God has moved His ministry in Haiti forward. While my pen has been slack and lax, the tireless efforts of many have forged ahead. In the coming days in country I will try to bring as much information forward as due diligence will allow. At moments this year I wondered if this moment would arrive for me again. It has, and we are going back into the time ravaged culture and country of Haiti to see our beloved friends, to labor to bring tokens of hope and help where we can, and to see the work multiplied by the master of the loaves and fishes! Krystle has been ahead of us in country for 2 weeks, and has found plenty of struggle with technology, heat, and the setbacks that the culture imposes by virtue of communication and understanding of this thing we call life. As we set out on this venture with some veterans and a couple new timers, a certain excitement crackles in the air. Expectations, hope, and love are brimming as we look to load our goods and shuttle our cargo south. What tomorrow may bring is always a tricky question, and more so when it includes a submersion into a different culture, but tomorrow will bring whatever God intends, and we intend to be there for it! I must apologize for a quiet year, but the silence is broken, and the veil has lifted for now, so into the blue we go to carry the banner of the One who has called us. To serve and to share, to sow and to water, dear Haiti, here we come once more. Blessings to all!

Slo-mo

Recently God has come through big in two distinct matters in my personal life. Delays that have been years in coming arrived. The measure of it I cannot fully comprehend, and perhaps never fully will. It was a surreal stretch of time in my life the last few weeks, still is a bit surreal. We are sitting at the gate in Chicago, our flight delayed due to the maintenance crew on board our plane doing a repair. It reminds me again God’s delays are often due to ongoing repairs. The healing of any culture or system of Government, and more precisely the people involved, often takes much longer than anticipated. We like broken stuff fixed immediately. We press God and others when its not moving at our pace. We hate the “in due season” clause. We think the season is now. We vent our frustration, and voice our displeasure. We claim God is deaf, that the heavens are brass, that God has forsaken us. We forget about the fact that God is also concerned about the process, that He is working all the time to heal the most important of broken things, our hearts, and the hearts of those around us. Our journey into Haiti has been really quite short compared to much many have done before us and are invested in now. Fourteen trips later though, we have seen progress in our seasons of travel. We have also seen things that appear to be going backward. Young men  and women who we have helped and ministered to, struggling to find footing in a desolate culture. Trying to find a place in a world that is fast leaving them behind. Have you ever pondered being able to see the world from a darkened, locked closet, and wonder if ever the lock will be removed, and if it is, what you had dared to dream would have passed you by. These kids have access to a key hole called the cell phone and Facebook, they are seeing things the generations before have not been able to witness in a brand new and very real way, via pictures, real time video, and friends communicating from that other universe beyond their locked closets. It’s one thing to conjure a reality from the spoken word of stories, it’s something different when you can see it in full color. Several are not dealing with the delays well at all. They are trying to get out of the closet on their own. And they are not handling the current status of their lives in the desolation zone well. The same could be said of our culture now as well. But the battle lines on the two fronts are completely different. The iPhone 6 slo-mo camera lens captures the reality of Haiti in incredible detail. The delays are often God’s slo-mo camera lens on our lives, giving us a chance to review, to take note, to absorb what we are missing at full speed. However, we often spend the time stewing and complaining. If it has taught me anything, Haiti has taught me to be very careful about what you do with the delays. Soon enough we are in the air, in the meantime, I wrote this blog, looking at pictures and pondering, peering deeply into what the camera lens captured that at first glance I missed. So I leave you with this, don’t begrudge the delays, they are a God send, don’t hold your breath because they will likely be longer than you would like, and seize the moment, it will pass soon enough, and you’ll likely regret your angst and press as you discover the God plan behind it all. This I continue to learn, albeit slowly at times. Blessings to all!

Stare

Here is another one of those gripping photographic moments. The stark reality of a life lived in a world that is hard to understand or comprehend. The eyes, the face, the swollen belly, this is very typical of the mountain children we see. It's morning and he is fairly clean compared to what he will be soon! I am not sure what he gazes at, the children are often caught with a vacant stare, and one can only wonder at their thoughts. But I know from Rob's personal stories that they are often too hungry and thirsty to be able to cry anymore. Crying is wasted energy that only increases the hunger pains.

Crisis

We are officially on our way home. This day was truly in Haitian form. The bus arrived but it turns out the driver was a little shifty. We had used him before, however since then things have apparently changed. We had to stop twice for gas, and then we had to stop at a security checkpoint and it turned out he was delinquent on his papers. True to his great feature set in his country, Robinson resolved the crisis, and we proceeded on our way. A trip that normally takes an hour and a half took us three hours. Rob was so disgusted with the driver he paid him and sent him back without him. He took a taxi to the bus station and is headed home on public transportation. I was pretty disgusted myself. Because we always figure to be at the airport three hours early, we made it in plenty of time. But we arrived at our gate later than we ever have. Now climbing up through the sky, enjoying the cool air falling on me, the stickiness of the last few days is drying and I'm trying to condition myself for the cold I will face tomorrow. By Friday morning I will be working outside again in conditions radically different than here. It's amazing how the body adjusts to the radical changes it gets subject too. And that brings me to my pondering thought. We see a lot of country between our run from St. Marc to Port. You see all kinds of sights and smell all kinds of smells. Not all is bad, but the good is swallowed whole by the vast amount of desolation. I watched as we passed a group of school children heading home up through a rugged country side, I wonder how they do it day after day. If ever people had a reason to choose an early exit, these surely would be at the top. But instead they are survivors. We learned our little Guerline (pictured in March between Krystle and Emma) endured a terrible and tragic death at the hands of the Typhoid Fever. She had a burn on her stomach that was so bad the pain drove her out of her mind before she succumbed to death. At first glance one declares God unfair, cruel, and unjust to let such a thing happen to such a sweet and gentle spirit, she was Krystle's age, she was part of an ongoing tragic loss we have suffered through in our Haiti work, and we lost her this summer. But our loss is only momentary, we sowed the seed and today I trust like our mission here this time, her young life was long enough, and her fiery death gave way to a place of peace, security, and love without end. God's plan and timing are impeccable, and each life, wherever that life is planted on this realm of our reality, whether it's the U.S. or Haiti, He is accomplishing great good, even in spite of the genuine evil that exists. Up here the sky is all the same at 36,000 feet. One day we will all discover the justice and mercy of God was shared equally among men, even when we are convinced sometimes here his judgement is impaired. I spoke from the amazing passage of scripture Sunday that is John 3:16. At 50 years old it is becoming a new rallying point for me. Loaded with theology, and redemption for all, I understand God is working all things for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose on an even greater plateau. My weeks in Haiti are not easy for me, I go because I am sent, I love the people, but the Island has a very harsh edge to it. God continues to thrust me out of my comfort zone, I follow His bidding. As I slip along the jet stream, as I flew to a people I loved a few days ago, I fly along now back to a people I love. It's a checks and balance thing for me, pursuing the will of God to rescue and save that which is lost. No regrets. Leave behind no regrets. Live and love your life in God, bask in what you have rich or poor materially, for we are rich in soul, something my Haitians have taught me well. My soul, and those who have travelled with us this trip have been stirred and moved once again as we have labored in the whitened harvest field, sowing faith, and hope, and love, I believe these are the indestructible things that will outlast time itself. So the road of time makes a bend ahead, I cannot see which way it goes, but I am confident in our Captain. I am certain of this journey. I am securely in the palm of God's hand. Blessings from the homeward flight path.

Sword

At what moment do you know it’s enough? On a journey like this, where you barrel along and there are never ending tasks to do, and improvements to make, how do you know? When the last drop of paint is used and it finishes the final wall, it’s a pretty good indication that your close. 38 gallons of paint on the walls! No sprayer, just good old fashioned rollers and brushes. Hour by hour, sweltering heat and all, we made it. One cabinet wrecked in the move, fixed. One closet for dresses, a linen closet for the bathroom, cleaning and organizing throughout, upholstery repair on a chair, love seat, and couch. Kitchen sink installed and working, shelving throughout the house to the tune of 34 to be exact. Pictures hung, Birthday celebration, 70 hotdogs later, and 8 bikes made for a very happy kid zone at the orphanage. The day started out blistering hot, the night was too, but the morning brought drenching humidity. However, you talk about home make over, this was it. It was a wrenching evening as the good-byes brought dreaded sorrowing emotions. One of the blessings was that we spent hours every day with the kids. There was an endless flow of activity, it’s not the place to come if you covet clean and quiet atmosphere’s. The difficulty the first couple of days is the psychological impact of the culture and weather, and at the end, its the challenge of the good-byes that sting and probe you to the depths of your being. There were lots of tears, as harsh reality drew it’s sword and severed our physical connection. There will be a few more in the morning, and then we will be on our way home. We finished well, I’m glad to report. And there are a lot of great things happening. At our children’s service yesterday in Desdunes, we had a totally different response to the David and Goliath story. It was because the kids had never heard the story before. It was one of those moments where you are seized with gratitude that such an opportunity came your way. 250 delightful children showed and the drama went off perfectly. For tonight, the rain has brought a temporary stall in the heat, so I am going to stitch this closed and try to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a day of travel, and I will be loading pics up to the blog as we hit the data stream in Miami. Thank you again for the words of encouragement, it helped us tonight in a dreaded place. Good night to all, and final blessings from St. Marc.

Stuffed

We are up and heading into the final push of our final day. The countdown in on! It's going to be a special day for the orphans as Beth's dream of getting them bikes has become a reality. She has diligently prayed in the $50 a bike for a long time, it was amazing how God provided right at the wire. The final money arrived the day before we left, and she had given up hope that it would happen this trip! Never underestimate how much God cares about the little things. Ray, Bob, and Deloris are off to get organized for the day, the rest will follow in a bit. I loaded up some photos last night and began my own decompressing. So much gets stuffed inside you on these trips and it takes a while for it to begin it's outward flow. But as I scanned through our photos from just one camera last night this is another show stopping moment, frozen in time to be revisited, to remind us what this is all about. Painting walls, building buildings, feeding the masses, buying the bikes, distributing clothing, giving fresh water... it's all about the people, it's all about the relationships, it's all about God at work in His creation to rescue, to save, to deliver on His own terms. I stare at a photo like this and ponder this little life, starvation has etched it's deadly brush strokes into her frame, what is her chance of survival? What kind of life will she live, will she ever leave the mountain? What has this momentary connection accomplished? Perhaps a thread of hope woven into her delicate heart will grow, and seed planted will find good soil, and this tender soul will race without abandon to her Creator, and what had appeared to be a purposeless life, God will show to us one day, and reprimand us for having such little faith, and such a darkened understanding of His ways. So I leave you with that thought for this day, the pondering of my heart as I lay my hands to the final tasks we will do this trip. Pray we finish well, that we have enough strength, that we serve without abandon, caring not for ourselves but only the mission we have been sent to do! God bless you this incredible day He has gifted each of us with!

Wild

There are countless moments like these in Haiti that turn your understanding of the universe on it's side. Where is your child tonight? This little girl was alone, and on a mission. A life far to serious for a smile for the camera. This is a little mountain girl, I don't know her name. We gave her a package of fruit chews for letting us snap her photo. This is a common sight in Haiti, but not a common sight to me. I pray against the day I can view this image with unseeing eyes and an unfeeling heart. She never moved when the car stopped and Brandon jumped out to get her picture, she stood and stared at us like a wild animal, but she is not! Here is a life God created and loved, a heart tender and yet hard. Toughened by starvation and pestilence, there is a unique gift here in this small package. We touched this life today, only God knows the reason why. We touched over 250 children today as we performed our David and Goliath story in a church in Desdunes. The pastor was kind enough to let us use his facility for our outreach. Once again your team was in form and performed splendidly! It was a very busy day, some good, some difficult, but overall, another great day in Haiti. Our trip comes to a close in less than 24 hours. It has been silver lined all the way. I am struggling to get posts up, but I am making it up for you by getting a picture up. Enjoy, and blessings to all back home!