Our
introduction to the older girls at Renmen seems like a lifetime ago. On our
first evening in Bon Repos, Mama told us about how she had sent the older girls
(age ~10 and up) to a book fair earlier that afternoon. We were eating when the
20 girls returned. Each one greeted us with a “bonjour” and a kiss on the cheek,
making a train that snaked around the dinner table so all the girls had a
chance at each of us.
Ever
since that wonderful beginning, the girls have made each day complete with a “bonjour”
and a kiss before they leave in the morning for school and a “bonjour” and a
kiss when they return at the end of the day. Two kiss trains a day for a month -
I think I'm spoiled on Haitian orphan kisses. We are nearing the end of our
time at Renmen and only have two kiss trains left.
Two
kiss trains. My heart breaks.
After
tomorrow, the girls will have ten less faces to offer a smile of good morning and
a quick welcome back before being yet again dragged into the sea of younger
kids. After tomorrow, the kiss trains will continue without us. We will return
to the guest house on the other side of the city to have a couple days back
together with the whole team before flying back to the States.
Two
kiss trains left to be Here and Now. Cherish every second.
Saturday our host, Pastor Forge opened up his yard for the
neighborhood children to come and enjoy games and a meal. We used money we
raised for this trip to buy $200 worth of food for the children. My team and I
went through the village inviting all the children we saw. We skipped back to
the house with children clinging to us smiling all the way. 76 children along
with some of the mothers arrived to share the morning with us. We were slightly
overwhelmed by the number of children mixed with the fact that we did not speak
the same language. But, we didn't let that stop us from having fun. A game of
dog, dog, cat started of our morning together. You may know the game better by
the name, duck, duck, goose. We sang songs with lots of motions for the
children to participate in and Jessica told a Bible story about Jesus calming a
storm. My favorite part of this day was handing out giant bowls filled with
rice and veggies to children of all ages. It was overwhelming and wonderful seeing
so many children sitting in one area enjoying a hot meal. I loved that some of
them couldn't finish their bowls because they were full.
We are living in a community where you would think the
brokenness of our world would be written on the faces of the sixty some-odd
kids who live on this acre of land. But in these last two weeks, I have seen
more joy, kindness, and compassion in their words and actions than I see among
most Christian communities back home. Sister Florence, who runs this orphanage,
has been a mother to each face who steps through her gates, but male authority
and leadership is scarce behind the walls of Renmen.
But
today, our second Sunday here, we got to tell each child that they have a
father who created them, who died for them, who loves them more perfectly than
any earthly father ever could, and who lives inside each of their hearts.
For me,
‘church' has always been synonymous with a building, an altar, a crucifix, a
few readings, and a Gospel shared by a well-read pastor. But today I was a part
of an unconventional and beautiful church service under a mango tree.We sat among the bugs and the mud singing
worship songs, and candidly discussing the meaning of the cross in English,
French and Creole. God's grace is universal. It knows no language; it knows no
sin too great. All morning the Holy Spirit was opening hearts, raising
questions, and bringing hope to the orphans sitting under the tree. He loves
them so perfectly. Amazing mornings like today remind our team that we are here
for God, and even when we leave in a few weeks, He will still remain.
Twenty hours spent in the bed of trucks, buses, and unconditioned vehicles. Rumbling down dusty roads for nine days of nomadic wonder. Enduring through six days of violent and undesirable sickness, not to mention a lovely five day span without bathing. Needless to say, all of this was followed by endless moments of weakness, frustration, and perhaps a time or two of wild panic. One could say our dynamic team of nine has been through it all.We've gone days on bread and peanut butter alone (I like to argue this is completely out of choice and love for peanut butter), slept on ant and cockroach covered cement porches while the rain pounded ferociously outside, and heard a never-ending, far too catchy techno rendition of a Black Eyed Peas favorite. We've faced trials, and we've most assuredly struggled- both in vain and in perseverance.
Through our hardships, we've been blessed far more than words can express.We've been to the mountaintop and had our breath stolen by the beauty of God's artistry.We've cupped innocence in our hands through the lives of Haitian children who care not about the lack of language we speak, but the joy we bring.We've sat with mothers and daughters underneath mango trees and giggled at things unexplained.We've danced with new found friends, both young and old, their joy and laughter infectious beyond comparison.We've cried through the pain of hearts at work.We've learned about the work of the body, the hardships of perseverance and the heart of community.We've sung sweet melodious songs of praise, and hands held high in worship.We've loved out of a pure and honest compassion.
One cannot measure the hand of the Lord at work in our lives by our endless travels and circumstances, nor can the blessing be counted.
Through the many blessings and challenges our team has faced, I am reminded of a powerful scripture that speaks on character. "For when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you willbe strong in character and ready for anything." (James 1:2-4)
Out of twenty hours of travel, days spent on the road, and baths not taken… our character is being molded and that in and of itself is perhaps the greatest blessing yet.
Andrew Hall
…Through the eyes of a child…
I can't say this trip to Haiti started off smooth or easy for me. It has stretched me physically and especially spiritually. Our team was given a break from our normal mission in Fond Parisien to spend some time in the mountains at an orphanage. Little did I know that this was where God would break my heart and show me His grace and love in awesome ways. Although that week started off with me being extremely sick, God gave me time to rest and sit in His presence.
…Finally when I was able to walk, Jochem and I were sent up to the orphanage to do some work in the bathrooms.
This was such a fun time, just working and hanging out. Our main job was to hang shower curtains and mirrors. The children at the orphanage were so happy to see us and just loved being around us. The highlight of my entire trip would have to be here at the orphanage… hanging the mirrors… 2 in the boys bathroom and 3 in the girls. After hanging them, the bathroom would flood with the children so eager and happy to look at themselves. The ladies on my team told me that the women would get out of the showers and just dance and dance in front of the mirrors. The children would stand there for 10 minutes just washing their hands and staring at their precious reflections. Talking with the pastor later, he said that most of the children had probably never seen themselves. What a crazy realization! It was so awesome to see their joy and smiles.
Adria Lipscomb
Haiti has been so amazing. I have had so many interesting experiences that it's hard to write about just one.I love learning the language, Creole, for sure. It's complicated, in the sense of trying to adapt French to Creole, but the kids and some of the adults are so willing to help myself and the team understand what is being said. My best experience has, probably, been when the team and I went to visit Mirebalais. When we arrived I saw a little kid (his name is El; three years old) eating a Mango. I asked him, in Creole, if he would share with me and where my mango was. He responded with, "Veni avek mwen," which means "Come with me." So we raced down the mountain, running through mud, rocks, and jumping a little creek. At the end of our run he brought me to a beautiful mango tree where he attempted to knock down mangos with a flimsy stick. While picking them up he kept saying, "Bon. Bon. Bon." Immediately, after picking up the last mango, it began to pour rain! I said to him, "Allez, allez!!'; meaning "Go, go!" We raced back up the mountain, in the cold rain, and it is then that I realized: I'M OUT OF SHAPE!!! From that moment he was attached to my side. He would be outside the house waiting for me,in the morning, and whenever I wanted to walk down the mountain he would hold my hand or put his arm around my waist and we would just stroll down the paths he knew. He loved sharing his world with me and I enjoyed experiencing the innocent and childlike joy of his.
Jochem Veldhuijzen
Tun-Tun
I have had a lot of fun experiences and cool moments here in Haiti, but one of these sticks out to me the most. While at HCM, I have attached myself to a 7 year old boy named Tun-Tun. He is just about the coolest kid in the world and we have hung out a lot, whether it is playing soccer or letting him ride on my shoulders, we always have a lot of fun.
One day though, I noticed Tun-Tun sitting on the steps. He didn't look particularly enthusiastic. I on the other hand was full of energy. I saw a circular air filter beside him and immediately had a great idea. I challenged him to roll it to me and he caught on. We played with this air filter for over 2 hours, having contests who could throw it longer and roll it faster. It was a lot of fun and he was all smiles the whole time. By brightening his day it also made my day ten times better! I look forward to hanging out with Tun-Tun a lot more before this month draws to a close.
Pamela Froese
"She is energetic and strong, a hard worker." Proverbs 31:17
The Lord has placed this on my heart today, this verse speaks truth of the Haitian women. I rose early this morning to accompany the women working in the kitchen. As we squeeze fresh juice by hand, I watch them prepare the days meals and admire their hard work.
Each one has a smile on her face, she is content and at home in her kitchen. She has all that she needs. Communication is limited, but there is mutual respect.
I can learn from these women, they are grateful and full of joy each morning they arise. I will never stand in my kitchen the same as I did before Haiti. The Lord has opened my eyes and given me a fresh perspective on the significance of being a woman.
Becky Kittinger
This trip is nothing like I expected. I learn everyday to throw all my expectations out the window. Nothing happens when or how I think it should. After a very frustrating week of travel and sickness I was finally feeling better and ready to work. Unfortunately every project I tried to help with fell through. Either there were too many people helping or we didn't have the supplies we needed or communication just was not happening. So Emily, Pam, and I decided to take a walk through the mountains to the one tree on top of the hill all by itself. We made it halfway and decided to sit by a creek for a while. As we were sitting there, two little girls came down and walked near us, playing in the creek. A few minutes later their mom came down as well. Little by little they all got closer to us until eventually the little girls were sitting in our laps. We sat there for over an hour. They only knew one phrase in english, "Hey you! What is your name?" The youngest girl repeated it over and over and over again. I ended up teaching her how to do cartwheels, handstands, and a forward roll. But there was something so peaceful about sitting in that field looking at the mountains with this beautiful Haitian family. They were so loving and so full of life. Even though we could not communicate with them, I could feel the presence of God surrounding us. It really renewed my spirit and reminded me that God is in all circumstances and He will accomplish His purpose even when I feel completely useless. When I am weak, He is strong.
Tiffany Berkowitz
Just like many of my team mates have said, the time that I have had here in Haiti is not at all what I thought God had in store for me. I was halfway expecting for it to be a time where I was able to catch my breath. Others even told me that this was going to be a time where I could relax, process, and be redeemed. I know it sounds a little strange that I would expect relief work in Haiti to be a time of rest, but I did. Maybe that just goes to show how crazy my life has become, or maybe that was a foolish expectation. Either way, I was wrong. I thought that coming to Haiti as a part of a team, and not having the responsibility of positional leadership would make life a little easier for me. Again, I was wrong. I thought that being with a new group of people with a fresh fire for the Lord would be redeeming for me. Wrong again. I thought that I was more than ready to handle any and every situation after all that I have walked through in the last year.Lord, forgive me for such pride and ignorance towards the mysterious workings of your spirit.
The reality is, in short, Haiti has been hard. I am more exhausted now than I was during most of the race, and I now have an extra months-worth of experiences to process on top of the last 11. Not leading has been hard. For the last year, that is what I did. I lead people. My heart, my mind, and my energy went into praying for, encouraging, and challenging the squad. It was a rare occasion that I got to be completely part of ministry in orphanages, construction sites, or medical clinics. My ministry was I-squad. I dealt with more than enough conflict, made incredibly difficult decisions, and spent countless hours and shed innumerable tears in prayer. Here in Haiti, my team leader carries those things, and she does an incredible job. I have had the blessing of supporting her, but inwardly I have been left fumbling around trying to figure out what to do with myself. Without the responsibility of leadership, I have had a hard time finding my place. Connecting with my team was difficult. Jumping into ministry was difficult. I didn't want to do anything without significance. Not in a prideful sense- I just did not want to labor in vain. I wanted everything that I did to bring Him glory, and I wanted to do it unto Him. I needed the Lord to consume me, and I needed desperately to sit at His feet. You know, that whole Mary/Martha thing. So for the first week and a half, I sat.
I asked God why He brought me to Haiti after such a long year of serving and traveling around the world. I asked Him why He thought that it would be the best place for me only a month after I returned home. I begged for Him to reveal His purpose to me. I cried out for Him to show me how He wanted to use me. I wrestled with him through the night. Then I sat there, defeated, and told God that I didn't care anymore. I just wanted Him to be near.
And that is when I heard Him say, "Your obedience brings me glory. You don't need to know your purpose or be aware of the significance of what you are doing. In your obedience, you are loving me."
I am reading “The Pursuit of God” by A.W. Tozer, and I stumbled upon the chapter where he talks about Abraham and Isaac. When God called Abraham to sacrifice his son, He was stripping him of the one thing that rivaled God for the seat on the throne of His heart. He brought him to a place where he had to lay down his son. The act was much more than just that though. God had promised Abraham all the way back in Genesis that He would make him a great nation. Isaac was the thread in the tapestry of the promises of God. So Abraham wrestled with knowing Gods promises and hearing His call to sacrifice.
In the same way, I know that God has promised me the nations. I know that He has promised me kingdom. I know that He has promised that He has good plans for me and that He has and never will forsake me. I know that He has promised me freedom. But nothing, not even His plans for my future… not even the purpose I've been given, can rival God himself for the throne of my heart. This month has been a month of stripping. Laying down my purpose, His plans for me… His PROMISES… to be with Him. Because I trust, just like Abraham did, that God fulfills His promises. He laid his son down, and the Lord remained faithful. I have been stripped of everything but Him. He is the only one, the only thing necessary to life. He will remain faithful to His promises, but all I want is Him.
I'm
a huge fan of the porch sit. Give me a good view, a rocking chair, and a
beverage that matches the weather or time of day (Arnold Palmer in the summer
and hot chocolate in the winter while a good cup of coffee in the morning is
clutch), and I will sit on a porch for hours. Despite my deep love of porch
sitting and like of being outdoors in general, I have never particularly been a
fan of sleeping outdoors. Besides the occasional nap while on the beach, I just
can't bring myself to fall asleep outside. It kind of scares me even in
daylight and the best of circumstances.
This
month in my tent has been an interesting experience. I've learned to embrace
the night breeze and exposure to the elements. However, sleeping in a tent
still provides some privacy and protection. This past weekend in Jacmel threw
me headfirst into the experience of sleeping completely outside with nothing
between me and anything that might come my way.
The
first night in Jacmel was pretty darn great. My team laid out a tarp on the
back patio of the house at which we were staying. Lining up our sleeping pads,
all ten of us spent a night in close quarters under a beautiful Haitian night
sky. Shadows of palm trees clustered the foreground and then deep, deep in the
background a million shining stars twinkled against black. It was magical.
The
second night was a different story. We were discussing where to sleep when it
started pouring down rain. Realizing there was a large porch on the adjacent
house, we hightailed it across the yard to set up camp. One of the other teams
shortly joined us and arranged themselves on a tarp at the end of the porch. Several
people slept inside the abandoned house. My team huddled together and shared
sleeping pads, sheets, and pillows. Then it started. There were cockroaches
(although Robby thankfully stepped up and slept where the cockroach hole seemed
to be). There were about a bajillion bats flying everywhere, including under
the porch roof. The rain continued for a while but when it stopped, we thought
we heard people walking around in the grass. Strange things continued to happen
throughout the night, so several people prayed against sickness and for our
safety.
Somehow
we all managed to fall asleep for several hours before awakening at 4am to get
on the road. It was still dark when we packed up and left the scary porch
behind us. While I don't know if I have been converted from porch sitting to
porch sleeping, I now feel confident that I can face everything when I have
such an awesome, God-fearing team surrounding me as I sleep.
Restoration. That is the name we gave ourselves during our first week
in Grand Goave. At the time, we had every intention of restoring the
lives of local Haitian families. We had every intention of restoring
buildings that were destroyed by the earthquake. Every intention of
restoring the spirits of people left in confusion about the God who
created them. Our intentions were to bring restoration to this
community, so who would have thought that the real restoration would
be happening in our own hearts? Allow me to tell you about Grandma Maliti. I first met grandma at the
site of her destroyed home in the mountains when Pastor Lex and myself
arrived to inform her that we'd be building her a new home. I couldn't
tell you exactly what she was saying at that moment, but all I could
see was genuine excitement. Within 30 minutes, her old structure was
gone and the space was cleared for the new 12x12 shelter. When the
team showed up to build the house, grandma was so excited. She went on
and on telling us stories (none of which we could understand) and just
smiling as she watched every nail. At one point we began to sing some
praise songs and I looked over to see her standing in the threshold of
her new house with a hand raised to our Lord. She had no idea what we
were singing, but grandma recognized in that moment that it was Jesus
that provided her with this new home...not the people building it.
While she was very thankful to us, all the praise and glory went
straight to the Lord...exactly how it should be.
2 Corinthians 5:1 conveys this perfectly:
For we know that when this earthly tent we live in is taken down, we
will have a house in heaven, an eternal body made for us by God
himself and not by human hands.
Our original intention may have been to build as many houses as
possible and reach as many people as possible, but we're seeing more
and more the importance of slowing down and enjoying moments like
those with Grandma Maliti. Just yesterday, we took a break from
construction to visit a lady we met in the first week. Already she has
added a front porch, potted plants, and a hinged door. It's moments
like these that we lose count of how many houses we have finished or
how many people we have talked to. It's moments like these that bring
more restoration to our team than we ever intended to bring with us to
Haiti.
Bubye has latte colored skin, round brownie-tinted eyes, and
melt-my-heart corkscrew ringlets popping out all over his head. He bobbles
around like any normal three-year-old, following after his four-year-old
sister, who he calls Mama.
Mama is vibrant, always smiling, and giggling, and lives out
her nickname. Most of the time Bubye is saying “Mama ,blah blah blah blah,” at
least that is what it sounds like to us, and then Mama will help him out,
feeding, or dressing him, or just playing with him.
One day a member on the team bought pizza for everyone at
the mission house. I was holding Mama in my arms and feeding her a slice of
cheese and pepperoni for the first time. After awhile, she gave me a motherly
look of affection, like she wanted to make sure I was well-fed too. So she took
the pizza in her hands and crammed it in my mouth before I could stop her.
Looking at Mama and Bubye
while they run around tables screaming and chasing the other kids, or when they try to tickle us and attack us
while we are quietly sitting on the couch, I never would have thought they were
dropped off at the house two weeks ago.
Their Dominican father died in the earthquake. Out of
desperation, their Haitian mother came by the house one day with them. She said
she didn't have the ability to take care of them anymore and thought they would
have a better life here. She left them and now is living with their father's
family in the Dominican Republic.
Unlike many children in Haiti, these kids have rice and bean
every day, clean water to drink, a blanket to sleep on, a school to go to that
the church runs, and Bubye even has a tan suit and fake crocodile leather shoes
he wears to church.
And they have love.
Yet, I discovered yesterday, it's not that simple. Even
though they do feel love here, they don't feel their mom's love.
Yesterday, I wrote this blog and was about to pos t it. I
went downstairs and saw Mama. She was so serious, and standing in a corner. She
wouldn't speak and acted like she was mute. Our Haitian friend asked her what
was wrong, and finally she said she missed her mom.
I wrapped her up in my arms and she clung to me. I asked my
friend what I should do, and she said holding her was the best thing to do.
Then as I held her, she threw up�"all over my arm.
It hit me how hard it is for these kids. They may have all
their physical needs met, and feel love, but it's just not the same as getting
a hug from mom or dad.
But what I have to cling to is that they do have a Father
who is with them all the time and never leaves them. As my older Haitian friend
here told me, who grew up an orphan, she has the best Father ever�"God.
The great Father is taking care of Mama and Bubye, and all
children in this orphanage, and others in the area, that's all I can cling to,
and I hope Mama will cling to that too.
If we have food and
clothing with these we will be content. -1 Timothy 6:8.
Keep your life free
from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will
never leave you or forsake you.” �"Hebrews 13:5.
Give me neither
poverty nor riches; feed me with food that is needful for me… -Proverbs 30:8.
The Bible
tells us that both having too much money and also having too little can be bad
for spiritual and physical health or well being. Contentment comes with having
what you need and knowing that God promises to provide to meet those needs.
The other day my team (116 Clique) distributed food in a
tent community. It was organized chaos. They were not content. Most did not
have food or clothing. They did not have what they needed.
God how could you allow them to live this way?
Why are your children
running around naked? Why are your chosen ones running around without shoes?
Don't you know they could get sick? Why are their bellies bloated so big, their
hands so droopy and their knees so weak? Do you not love them?
Jillian, you have shoes. You have clothing. You have all of
these things in abundance. Do you not love them? Do you not love my children?
How about you? Do you love the Haitians?
I know God loves them! They may not have what they need but
we do. We can more than meet their physical needs and I believe that we are
therefore called to give out of our abundance as God's children. God has
provided but rather than give it directly to them He provides abundance first
to us, and then allows us the undeserved privilege of giving to those in need.
Our excess is their necessity.
We are God's vessels. He wants to provide and pour out
through us. Through me and through you. He could do it without us and most
definitely doesn't need us but because of His love He takes joy in allowing us
to give Him glory in that way. Our riches cry out to be used for His glory and their physical need cries out to be filled with our
abundance.
May we answer that cry. May we meet that need, in the name
of Jesus. There is no higher calling or greater privilege than to do live for
God.
There is a lot of need in this world. What are you going to
do about it?
By this we know love,
that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the
brothers. But id anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet
closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him? Little
children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth. -1 John 3:16-18.
have seen
more joy, kindness, and compassion in their words and actions than I see among
most Christian communities back home. Sister Florence, who runs this orphanage,
has been a mother to each face who steps through her gates, but male authority
and leadership is scarce behind the walls of Renmen.
ld panic. One could say our dynamic team of nine has been through it all.
being said. My best experience has, probably, been when the team and I went to visit Mirebalais. When we arrived I saw a little kid (his name is El; three years old) eating a Mango. I asked him, in Creole, if he would share with me and where my mango was. He responded with, "Veni avek mwen," which means "Come with me." So we raced down the mountain, running through mud, rocks, and jumping a little creek. At the end of our run he brought me to a beautiful mango tree where he attempted to knock down mangos with a flimsy stick. While picking them up he kept saying, "Bon. Bon. Bon." Immediately, after picking up the last mango, it began to pour rain! I said to him, "Allez, allez!!'; meaning "Go, go!" We raced back up the mountain, in the cold rain, and it is then that I realized: I'M OUT OF SHAPE!!! From that moment he was attached to my side. He would be outside the house waiting for me,
at I thought God had in store for me. I was halfway expecting for it to be a time where I was able to catch my breath. Others even told me that this was going to be a time where I could relax, process, and be redeemed. 
the blessing of supporting her, but inwardly I have been left fumbling around trying to figure out what to do with myself. Without the responsibility of leadership, I have had a hard time finding my place. Connecting with my team was difficult. Jumping into ministry was difficult. I didn't want to do anything without significance. Not in a prideful sense- I just did not want to labor in vain. I wanted everything that I did to bring Him glory, and I wanted to do it unto Him. I needed the Lord to consume me, and I needed desperately to sit at His feet. You know, that whole Mary/Martha thing. So for the first week and a half, I sat.
