Thirst

This is the second entry on my series on Haiti. Bondye beni ou...God bless you.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” Matthew 5:6

For much of the year Haiti is a dry, dusty place. The sun bakes the hard packed earth and a breeze blows clouds of dust across open spaces. Even though it has many lakes and is surrounded by the ocean on three sides, Haiti feels more like a desert than a tropical island.  

At least it did when I was there.

On our worksite, which was a large open plot of land our primary task was to dig foundation trenches for the vocational school. We used pick axes to break up the rock solid earth and shoveled out the loose dirt. With each tossed shovelful of dirt, the breeze carried a cloud of dust, covering all in its path. We quickly learned to stand upwind, but still we ended each day covered in dirt and dust. I flossed my teeth one night and even found dust between my teeth!

Parched land leads to parched people.  

As our team spent entire days working in the hot sun, our mantra to one another became, “Take a break and get a drink.” How we savored those breaks to fill up our water bottles for much needed refreshment.

But for Haitians water isn’t always a blessing. The source of life is often a source of disease and even death as water often carries bacteria, parasites—and recently cholera. Few have easy access to clean water.

Less than one-quarter of urban Haitians have tap water in their homes. Folks in rural communities gather rain water in cisterns or travel miles to fetch (often polluted) water. A family might have to make one large bucket of water cover all their needs—cooking, drinking and washing--for days.

I have no experience with this kind of scarcity.

At one worship service we attended, members of the church brought in a cooler and gave each of us Americans a cold bottle of water to drink. We thankfully, but reluctantly accepted their gift of love and sacrifice knowing that our hosts needed that water far more than we did.

A few children sat on the laps of our team members during the service and watched the water distribution with great interest. After a sip or two for themselves, most from our team shared their water with the kids. I watched as one little girl tipped the bottle to her lips and emptied its contents with one long, enthusiastic gulp.

The people of Haiti are indeed thirsty. And not just for water.

Thankfully Jesus knows a thing or two about thirst because the folks we worshipped and worked with have parched spirits. As that little girl gulped from the water bottle, their spirits thirst for the Living Water that only Jesus provides. They worship with freedom, eagerness and enthusiasm. The overflow from their hearts poured onto us and quenched a thirst in each of us that we didn’t even realize we had.

“Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:13-14)

How remarkable that while our team went to Haiti to help meet physical needs, God allowed our spiritual needs to be satisfied far more profoundly.  

Building water purification facilities and digging wells are some of the greatest ways we can care for and love our brothers and sisters in impoverished countries, but offering them—and receiving for ourselves—the living water that Jesus offers is the most precious gift there is.
Is your spirit parched? Are you drinking from the well the world offers and feeling dissatisfied? Have you met Jesus at the well and discovered His living water? Does it overflow from your life onto others? 

We don't have to travel to poor countries to find people who are dying of thirst. Our mission field is outside our front door.

Lord, give me a thirst for You--To experience You. To know you. To love you. To worship you. Fill me to overflowing so that your life-giving water flows into the lives of others.

Haiti has been so severely deforested in the last few decades that rain runoff causes extreme erosion.

Taking a much-needed water break in the shade

A little girl going to fetch water. (She's not even wearing shoes.)

Receiving the Living Water at a powerful worship service

One of several pump wells in Camp Hope

Lake Sumatra, one of Haiti's largest lakes, is said to have cholera in it.

Follow

This is the first installment of a ten-part series on my trip to Haiti—the things witnessed, the relationships formed and the experiences shared. And how God revealed His glory through it all.

“Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” At once they left their nets and followed him.” (Matthew 4:19-20)

Of the four mission trips I’ve been on, the “roster” for this one was the most unsettled. Our team continually fluctuated as folks signed up, cancelled, re-registered and added on at the last minute. Plans changed. Minds changed. Circumstances changed. I didn’t know who or how many people would end up in Haiti.

Thankfully Bob, our leader, remained flexible through the flux because by the end of the trip I saw how God had specifically called each person to be there—in His own timing and for His own purpose.

How remarkable that out of the hundreds, if not thousands, of people who heard testimonies by or received personal invitations from former Haiti missionaries, this exact group of 18 ended up together in Haiti. Certainly divine guidance played a role, but each of us also had one important thing in common—our willingness to say “yes” to that guidance.

That “yes” required letting go—of time, money, comfort, convenience and more. Many received criticism and questioning about their decision to go. Yet each of us persisted and knowingly made sacrifices. Sacrifices like:

… saying goodbye to sad children (and spouses) who didn’t want us to go away for ten days.

… traveling to a place that might be unsafe and dangerous.

… leaving behind the comforts and conveniences of home.

… missing important family activities.

… trading in vacation time and money.

… having no idea what we were getting ourselves into.

… setting aside business opportunities and possibly losing income.

… going even though we felt completely unqualified.

But doesn’t Jesus ask for personal sacrifice—and a bold response—from His disciples?

In Matthew 4:19-22, Jesus walked along the Sea of Galilee and called out to Andrew and Peter as they fished, “Come, follow me, and I will send you out to fish for people.”

“At once they left their nets and followed him.” James and John respond the same way: “immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.”

Let the disciples' response sink in. Their boldness is truly remarkable.

Jesus didn’t tell them where they’d be going. He didn’t give them time to make a decision. And He wasn’t clear on what they’d be doing (because “fishing for men” doesn’t make sense).

And the disciples didn’t offer any qualifications for their calling. They had no religious pedigree, advanced education or prior experience. Truly, it seems their only credential was their willingness to say, “Yes.”

How easy it would have been to say, “No.” Or, “Not now.” Or, “Let me think about it.” To have considered calendars, comfort, commitments, convenience or common sense in making a decision. Surprisingly the disciples didn’t do that. They dropped what they were doing, left their work and their families, and followed Jesus.

Perhaps a few family or friends supported their decision, but somehow I doubt it. In fact, I bet plenty of folks said they were crazy!

But just as Jesus invited the disciples, He invites us: “Come, follow me.”

We cannot be a follower of Jesus if we’re not willing to actually follow. If we’re not willing to set down our “nets”—our work, families, fears, plans and expectations. To boldly step out of our comfort zones.To say, "Yes."

To follow Jesus we have to move—from where we are, to where He is. Wherever that may be.

Saying "yes" to Haiti was a bold step, but I want to live with this same willingness to follow in my day-to-day. Even still I cling to comfort. I cherish convenience. I applaud common sense. And I crave control. Yet with each “yes” to follow Him to places like Haiti, I let go a little more. And in the letting go there’s a finding that initially frightens but ultimately frees and fills.

One of my friends took a LONG time to say “yes” to Haiti. In the end she said, “God put a call on my heart that was so strong I just had to follow.”

Where is Christ calling you to follow Him? What is keeping you from setting down your nets and taking bold—and obedient—step just like the disciples…just like my friend…and following Him?

Sunrise from the roof.

Mountains upon mountains. With people living in poverty.

Rural houses

Camp Hope

Following up the mountain to Balizaj

Down from the Mountain

Wow! It’s been a busy week and a half since coming home from Haiti. My bags are finally unpacked, my blisters are healed and my tan is fading. But, my heart is still bubbling over with love and joy from our trip. What God did in and through us during those ten days is incredible.

I can’t stop thinking about Haiti. Or Jude. Or my other Haitian friends. Or our team. I miss them all so much and have spent a lot of time on Facebook looking at pictures—remembering and reliving.

Last night I shared the message in prison on Haiti. (This is a major step of faith because I’ve never done this before.) It was such a blessing to share even though I had to leave out so much because of time limits. The men seemed truly engaged in my stories. I loved that I could tie my experiences in Haiti, to our experiences worshipping together in the prison chapel…and how connected we are as brothers and sisters in Christ, members of the same family…and how the God I experienced in Haiti is the same God we can experience here at home. Readily available to all who seek Him.

This touches on a fear I have…that my (and our teams’) stories make it seem like unless you travel to a place like Haiti…or Africa…or some remote village that you can’t experience God in profound and powerful ways. Without a doubt, our time in Haiti was remarkable and special, but the Spirit of God is freely available to all people, in all places at all times. No matter where we are, Jesus invites us to follow Him. I think that our intimate experience with God is more about being willing to “go there” with the Lord, to step out of our comfort zones on faith—and to be open to receiving what He has to offer.

As much as Haiti was a mountaintop experience that I want to stay on/in forever, I know that’s not the Lord’s desire. Even after the disciples had their own mountaintop experience with Jesus during the transfiguration, Jesus quickly led them back down the mountain into the valley—even though they wanted to pitch tents and stay awhile.

The mountaintop is for spiritual refueling. Refocusing. Renewing. The valley is for living. So I am learning to live in the valley. Looking to see how God wants to use me, redirect me and change me from Haiti.

I said that I planned to do a series on Haiti and I will. This week I spent so much time putting together my message for the prison that I didn’t have any time for “recreational” writing. I planned to start today but since this post is already getting long I think I’ll wait until the beginning of next week to start. I know you’ll be waiting expectantly until then!

In the meantime, can I ask you to pray for everyone from our team that they continue to follow the call God placed in their hearts in Haiti. For some He’s wooing them back to Him. For others He is calling to a new phase on their walk with the Lord. For others He’s healing and restoring and repurposing.

On a side note…please pray for me! My sweet little girl turned 16 on Tuesday. And the day brought with it the thing that many a 16-year-old dreams about—a driving permit. While I am so happy for her to take this next big step in growing up, I am scared to death.

Dan and I are teaching how to drive my stick shift VW bug, which no doubt makes learning to drive MUCH harder. Yesterday, during our training session, I think I pulled the emergency brake four times! I’m not sure who is more nervous…my daughter or I. At this rate she should be ready for the open road by the time she’s 18!


Bondye beni ou! (God bless you)
…and toujou lave men ou avan manje ou (always wash your hands before you eat.)

A woman walking on the "main road" up the mountain to her village

A family we met on the hike up to Balizaj.

The gorgeous beach we went to for some well-deserved rest. 

 

My sweet, crazy, singing, dancing, Jesus-loving roommate. I miss you CC!

Pastor Valentin and our awesome group from Woodside!

We're Back

"They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe … All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need … Every day they continued to meet together … They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts … And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved."  (Acts 2:42-47)


As I wrote on my Facebook wall: Back from Haiti. What an awesome trip! What an awesome team! How can it be that when I leave my life of comfort and plenty and go to a country of hardship and want, my heart fills to overflowing? God is so good.

To say it was a great trip is an understatement. I left apprehensive about the situation in Haiti, unsure about what we'd actually be doing, and questioning whether this was really where God was calling me to. I returned awed and amazed at our almighty God who's orchestration, protection and provision defined this trip completely.

This trip to Haiti was one of the most incredible experiences of my life, and certainly the most impactful mission trip I've taken. Even though friends have asked what made this trip so special, it's hard to find the words to adequately express what's been imprinted on my heart and spirit. I'll try to paint a broad overview. (In the days to come I'll be working on a series of more detailed stories.)

Our ten days followed a mission trip model set up by the Foundation for Peace. It included five days on the work site, a medical activity day, three worship services with local churches, two VBS's and one (much-deserved) beach day.

Our team of 18 came from coast to coast (PA, NJ, MA, RI and CA), including six from my church. We'd all never met before. (I didn't even know most of the folks from my church very well.) We ranged in age from 20's to 60's and brought with us a wide range of talents, faith journeys and life experiences. The way that God weaved these disparate strands together as a team—unified, and singular in heart and purpose—was a beautiful display of His craftsmanship and creativity.

One incredible team

We spent every waking hour together. We toiled together—working harder than many of us had ever worked before. We praised God together in morning devotions, frequent prayer, enthusiastic Haitian worship and late night singing. We talked, ate, hung out, recreated, rode the bus together. And no one tired of anyone's presence. No one got on anyone's nerves. When one was weary, another came alongside to lift up. We became attuned to one another's needs and gave from our excess. It was community in the most wonderful sense of the word. And we all recognized it as something extraordinary.

Group back rubs

The work we did was hard. It basically consisted of digging trenches for a vocational school. Lots and lots of trenches (each about 2 feet wide by about 4.5 feet deep). Working with our Haitian friends, we used pick axes to break up the hard packed, arid soil. Then we shoveled out the loose dirt. This task pushed every one of us to—and past—our physical limits. Yet, we pressed on, determined to make our mark, knowing that this school represents the future of Haiti in this part of the country. 

 There's much more to tell...and I will...but the most meaningful experience for me was visiting Camp Hope (the camp I worked in after the earthquake). God really moved in me when I was there last year. Our group had made friends and I was anxious to see them again. But the person I most wanted to see was Jude, the teenage boy I worked with and befriended last year. There's something special about Jude. And even though we don't speak the same language, our hearts are connected. I've kept tabs on Jude as my friends have traveled to Haiti in the past year and knew he was OK. But I was dying to see him again.

We first arrived at Camp Hope on Friday to visit the school (that FFP built last year). I looked for Jude in the classrooms and found him quickly. When Jude spotted me standing in the doorway of his small classroom his face lit up with excitement and he jumped out of his seat to see me. We hugged for what seemed like a minute. It was a precious moment filled with such love that I could have left Haiti right then, satisfied.

There is so much more to tell...our day of worship, visiting, VBS and soccer at Camp Hope...our "50-minute" hike up the mountain to distribute aqua-tabs to people in a remote village...a relaxing day at the beach to restore our weary bodies...the worship services at local church...early morning devotions on the rooftop...the family we formed, Haitian and America, bonded together for all of eternity...and so much more.

There is something about Haiti that's so special. I see God there in the people and the country. I feel His presence in the worship. And I find rest in my spirit that is so absent as home.

Thank you for your prayers for our trip. They were most definitely answered. I am so thankful for the experience and hope our ten days in Haiti planted seed that will bear fruit for a long time to come. I pray that all we encountered, and all of us Americans, are forever changed—because in Haiti we met Jesus.

New Beginnings

I thought I was done, but I’m not. I’ve spent the last two weeks searching my mind for new topics and insights to write about, but thoughts of Haiti block all others from forming into something cohesive. It begs to be written about, not yet willing to let me move on. 

I don't particularly like Facebook, but have found it's THE place to feed my Haiti craving. Through photo albums of recent Haiti trips and friends' FB pages, I'm staying up to date with current happenings (and probably spending far too much time doing so.) Some of our Haitian friends are even on Facebook. I was just FB chatting with one of the dear, sweet translators we met. How cool is that? Technology is good indeed.

Yes, Haiti has seared my heart and mind and spirit. And for that I am intensely thankful. 

It was our last day at Camp Hope. We could stay only a few hours before we had to leave and start the seven hour drive back to Santo Domingo.

The day was cooler as overcast skies offered physical relief from the blazing sun. A gentle breeze provided respite from the waves of blowing dust of prior days. I walked into camp filled with sadness at the thought of saying goodbye to our new friends. Perhaps because of the physical relief from the weather, but on this day, more than any other, I noticed quiet and order and a distinct sense of peace about the place. Life in Camp Hope had a rhythm. Community leaders met, solving problems and making plans for the future. Children gathered in grade-level tents for school. Workers happily dug holes and trenches. Women washed clothes and sat together talking. A barber even set up shop under a scraggly tree.

It was also a day for high level officials. World Vision representatives were there checking things out as was the American man who owns the land that houses Camp Hope. He shared with us his vision for the camp—which includes building a school in the coming weeks, dealing with the coming rainy season and getting the residents more permanent housing.

Bobby Burnette, founder/director of Love a Child and owner of the land, meets with American Refugee Committee director extraordinaire, Leah E.

A plastic storage building arrived on site and caused a great deal of excitement. Bob, Doug and Gretchen set to work immediately to put it together. It was the only non-tent structure at the camp.

While life was far from perfect, I knew our friends in Camp Hope would be OK.

Jude and Junior were waiting for us, ready to get to work. While they led Sarah and I to a couple tents that needed mending, even they seemed to know the day was different. Jude, normally driving us with his calls of “Let’s go!” (translated: enough chatting, let’s get to work) softened his attitude and became a gracious host, showing us new things and introducing us to new people.

At one point Jude took Sarah and I to his tent to meet his tentmate, Nickenson. Nickenson is a young man of maybe twenty. Jude told us he’d lost his mother, father, brothers and sister in the earthquake. A six-person family now down to one young man. The four of us talked for a bit and prayed a little. As I prayed I started to cry for these two young men and for all the loss suffered in this country.

Jude looked at me, alarmed that he’d done something wrong. He seemed truly puzzled as to why I’d be sad. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Wiping away tears I said, “No, I’m sorry for all that you’ve been through.”

That’s the thing about the Haitians that we met. They didn’t look or act like people who’d suffered devastating losses. They didn’t wail with grief, wallow in self-pity or curse the injustice of it all. For the most part, they picked themselves up and persevered with what they had. Their faith remained strong. I saw people very much wanting to make a new beginning.  

So much love and loss, life and death, endings and beginnings in one place. And still they had hope.

Especially the children.

“I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.” Luke 10:21

Next time I’ll share a wonderful story to share about the children and one of the most profound experiences of God's love I’ve ever had.

Haiti and Me - Part 1

Haiti was not what I expected.

I expected to witness a medical crisis.

The Good Samaritan hospital complex on the border in the Dominican Republic where Foundation for Peace relief teams stay had become a major trauma centers for quake victims. In the weeks prior to our arrival thousands of patients crowded its hallways; flowed through its operating rooms for amputations, external fixators, wound care and skin graphs; and recovered in tents on its grounds. Too many took their last breath there.

Teams of medical professionals from all over the US and the world came to volunteer. Helicopters regularly landed on the grounds of Good Samaritan to airlift patients to and from area trauma “centers.”Healthy family members pitched in and helped as they could. Some acted as translators.

Tensions between Haiti and the Dominican Republic are deep and long lasting. The DR had played the good neighbor long enough and they wanted all the patients back in Haiti. By the time we arrived in Jimani the last patient was being transported from the hospital. The complex was eerily vacant with little clues for the traumatic scenes that transpired only weeks before.

 (Click here to see a newly-produced video of the hospital in action during the early weeks. It's awesome.)

I expected to see physical devastation.

But we worked far enough east of Port-au-Prince that the earthquake hadn’t affected that area directly. All the buildings I saw were intact. It seemed people went about their day-to-day business. Markets at the border bustled with people selling and buying all types of wares.


I expected despair and discouragement.

The refugee camp where we worked during the day—American Refugee Committee’s (ARC) Camp Hope in Fond Parisien—holds over 500 people who live in tents (many donated by Eddie Bauer!)—some with families, some all alone. Most are post medical and have healed, or are healing, from the injuries they sustained in the earthquake. The more serious cases and the amputees are still in a medical camp—Love a Child—down the road.

The people in Camp Hope are starting to reclaim a sense of normalcy. A community committee has been formed so that the Haitians are running the day-to-day of their camp. Workers from camp and from town are being paid to dig latrine trenches, dig wells, build, repair and teach. Newly-bored wells provide safe water to drink, cook with and wash with. Four tents serve as classrooms and the children go to school each day. One tent houses a a medical clinic where volunteer doctors and nurses attend to waiting patients. Nurses even travel through the camp to make sure those with more serious injuries are receiving proper follow-up care.

Plans are being made by outside agencies involved with Camp Hope to provide cooking areas and more permanent structures for the refugees to live in. I sense this camp will become a model for other tent communities scattered all over Haiti.

If Haiti wasn't what I expected, what was it to me? You’ll have to come back tomorrow for more of the story.


To be continued…

Love in Action

After weeks of quick planning my husband is going to Haiti tomorrow. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, he knew he had to go. So in the pre-dawn hours he and six others from our church will head to Newark airport, laden with suitcases filled with first aid supplies, donated clothing, men’s flipflops and other necessities that have been requested. 

In the wake of the earthquake, it seems everyone wants to do something to help. Haiti isn’t the kind of place one just gets on a plane and goes to, so few will have the chance to actually go and help.

But the Foundation for Peace, the group with whom our church has partnered with to do mission work is located in the Dominican Republic. They have the experience, staff, contacts and know-how to provide medical, physical and spiritual help directly to quake survivors and they’ve been doing so since days after the earthquake. Now they’re taking in teams of volunteers. As a result, Dan jumped at the opportunity to go. Three from our church were there this week and arrive home tonight. I’m on pins and needles waiting to hear all the details of their trip.

Besides time and a calling, mission trips require money. Many trip goers pay for these trips out of their own pockets. Some pursue fundraising. Dan chose the latter. Not shying away from the Christian aspect of the trip and even quoting a Bible verse, Dan penned an appeal and emailed it to friends, business colleagues and clients asking for their help.

Then, he sat back and watched God work.

As he and I have seen in past experiences, fundraising is about so much more than a financial transaction. It brings out people’s natural generosity that they’re just not sure where to channel, especially in a situation as daunting as Haiti. It allows folks to be a part of an experience much bigger than themselves. And it demonstrates what it looks like when ordinary, everyday Christians become the hands and feet of Jesus.

It’s the best kind of evangelism. Love in action. Love with no expectation of repayment. Love that requires sacrifice (and a good bit of discomfort).

Let’s face it Christians as a group often get a bad rap. As a whole we’re frequently painted as a closed society filled with closed-minded people. How refreshing when someone with a previously sullied opinion of Christianity sees faith in action. Perhaps it causes a few to say, “Hmm, maybe there’s something to the Jesus thing.”

What a difference we can make when we live our faith out loud, for others to see. No pressure. No preaching. No moralizing. Faith in action pure and simple.

I expected Dan would receive donations. I didn’t, however, anticipate how blessed the donors would be by Dan’s appeal or how enthusiastically they’d support him. Like the long out-of-touch high school friend who donated and then passed the request on to her friends. Or the Cub Scout troop who took up a collection at their meeting and delivered coins and crumpled dollar bills. Or the business colleague so inspired he’s looking into going on one of the upcoming trip. But I was most blessed by the response from one of Dan’s clients. The client passed the fundraising note on to his staff and encouraged them to contribute. Each staff member chimed in and offered what they could. “I’m in for $10.” “Put me down for 20.” “I want to give $50.” The responses poured in. And then the client matched what his staff donated. The amount collected almost funded Dan’s entire trip!

God's love is everywhere and with each donation, no matter what the size, I’ve seen evidence of this love. Whether the donors can put a name to it or not, with each gift God is glorified.

So in several short hours this week’s team of missionaries, including my husband, will board planes and head to Santo Domingo. There’s no clear roadmap for what they’ll do. Needs change daily. Patience and flexibility will be required. But I know the work they do is in the Lord’s hands.

I pray our heavenly Father covers them with His protection and fills them with His Spirit. And though they travel a great distance hoping to make a noticeable difference, even if they sit on a mat and hold a child's hand, let that be enough.

And by their example may others know deep in their heart they've encountered Jesus.

On Valentine's Day, what greater gift of love is there than this?