Last time I shared about my trip to Haiti. In the past weeks I’ve talked about it, written about it, thought about it and put people to sleep showing them pictures from it.
Let’s just say I am still a little—okay, more than a little—affected by the trip. There is a spot in my heart that burns with love for the Haitians we met and wants more than anything to go back. People have noticed—and not always in a good way. A friend said to me, “You’re holding onto Haiti like a blanket…like life will never be that good again.”
Besides thinking to myself, Boy, that was pretty darn rude! I considered the question.
Yes, Christine, Bob and I talk nonstop about Haiti when we’re together. We discuss the latest news from Camp Hope. We ponder plans for the future. We yearn to return.
But do I really think life will never get better again? Am I stuck living in the past? The bigger question looming is: what will I do with this mountaintop experience?
During the Transfiguration Peter, John and James experienced the glory of God in a dazzling display (Matthew 17:1-11). Their spirits danced with excitement. They wanted to stay on the mountaintop and savor the experience. But shortly after, Jesus led them off the mountain and into the valley. Back to the chaos and needs of every day life. Back to the people who needed Him. It wasn’t even until years later that the three fully understood what they’d witnessed and what it meant to their lives.
Yes, I want to stay on the mountaintop of Haiti. I want to talk about it and look at pictures. But I know that if that is all that I got out of the trip, I missed the point.
God did not take me (or any who went) there so we could hold onto and remain stuck in the experience. It was but one chapter, albeit a glorious one, of the story He’s writing on our hearts. What this chapter means to the rest of the story remains to be seen.
Haiti was a gift. Not to hold onto, but to share, use and multiply. I want it to alter my actions and attitudes. Inspire my activities. Ignite my passion. Enrich my relationships. Soften my heart. And sharpen my vision and hearing for the cry of God’s people—whether they’re across the globe or down the street.
I think that someday God will allow me to return to Camp Hope, but for now I know He’s called me to do His work here at home among my friends, family, church and community. And I will do so with passion and praise.
It’s a challenge put before each of us—What do we do with our mountaintop experiences? Will we even follow our Lord there in the first place? Once there, will we set up camp or will we follow Him back down to the valley with hearts rewritten to love and serve in His name?
For me, all I want is to hear his voice and have the courage to follow.
“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’” (Isaiah 6:8)