Back on US Soil

On Friday our feet touched US soil just before noon. Lilly holding my hand and Ava's remarks in the Ft. Lauderdale airport, "Mom, there are so many white people here." We were another family of a sea of people but we have become accustomed to standing out among the Haitians. The girls wanted grilled cheese sandwiches and after spending more than an hour in customs (with 3 large suitcases, 2 carry ons and 2 carseats) we headed for the terminal. Chili's (which I've never been a huge fan of) was the first place we saw. We went in and the waitress must have laughed over the girls' excitement when she brought them their grilled cheese and french fries. American food! We ventured on with frozen yogurt and a coffee for me to get through the next 12 hours of travel on my 3 hours of sleep. The flying all went as expected and on time. Thank you, Jesus. We landed in Memphis airport at 10pm and were thankful to see family!

Saturday we all faced a little culture shock with the roads so smooth, the neighborhoods so clean, people speaking English, etc. I ran Saturday morning and I'm almost certain I said bonjour to the first person I saw walking past me. At one point Ava wanted to go jump on the trampoline and I told her there wasn't one and then she argued before she stopped and asked "where are we?" I know it must be strange to be whisked off to another place and make sense of it all at age 3. The girls really are doing so well with the transition. I am grateful they live in the moment and see things for what they are. There's no complaining or grumbling about our Haiti life.

My family spoiled us with grilled fish, fresh vegetables and fresh fruit. Ava said, "Memphis makes the best watermelons!" The girls and I are enjoying the little things. Trips to Target, church in English, fast internet, central air, being hosted instead of hosting. It's all been such a blessing.

We tried our best when we left to think of everything we would come back to and arrange it accordingly. Although Sunday when we went to get my car out of storage down the street from my parents' house, both keys to the car were across town at my in-law's house. We made the best of it and met a friend at the park. Each conversation with friends and family has lent itself to what I'm learning and how God is teaching me. I love the process of saying those things to others and hearing it for myself.

It was great to see my family and a few friends over the weekend. Mom is still recovering and wears out quick. I asked Lilly if she noticed any differences in Gran'Mary and she said, "No, she's just tired a lot. She takes more naps than Ava." I'm so thankful for mom's recovery and progress. She is leaps and bounds better than when I last left her. We are all praying that she keeps getting stronger and recovers completely. I've never been more thankful for the relationship mom has with the girls than watching them play together this time around and knowing how much of a gift it is for them to be together again.

For the weekend I was using mom's car and mom's phone. It was great but I was looking forward to getting my phone and car working (first world problem). Monday morning Grant helped me get my car out of storage and I was so thankful it would start and worked fine. We made the trek from Collierville to midtown and in route, Lilly says, "Mom, this almost feels like normal." We laughed. She and Ava in the backseat bickering over a toy and me driving in a familiar place and all of it felt more normal than anything else. It was so good to realize a "normal" moment and live in it just that moment and know that it's not really normal for our lives now but it feels good for it to exist in a changing whirlwind of events.

Having dinner with my in-laws and seeing a friend after the girls are in bed were a perfect way to end a Monday. We have so much ahead of us in these adventures but for now we are truly living in the moment. Soaking up the time with friends and family. Being rejuvenated by familiarity. Effortless time with people. Deeper conversations. Girls being able to express themselves in English.

Thank you for your partnership with us on this journey. It's a privilege to share it with you.

Counting Down

This morning I show back up at the house with blood dripping down. My name was called out on the gravel road and I turned to look. Shoe went up against a rock and lost my footing. Down I went...again. A swollen foot, a sore right side. A hobble around. A run cut short. I prayed twice to stay on my feet and couldn't. I prayed for humility. I keep getting it. I may stop praying for it.

Hours counting down. Suitcases wide open, half packed. Lists running long. In another day a rehabilitated grandmother will embrace two half-haitian little ones. In a day this mama will trek across the ocean and three states on airplanes to make it to the gray brick building where airplanes land, BBQ smells in the air and a sign that reads Welcome to Memphis. Then to the familiar front porch and inside another place where the word home rings true and feels true. We'll gain grandparents and lose a Papi in the same day. The day starts tomorrow in the dark with a friend taking us from the rocky road to the small airport where suitcases line up and people of all colored skin say goodbye and embrace. Another adventure. An opportunity to make memories. Little trips make a big one.

I thought the girls would be counting down. They teach me. Lilly says, "do we leave today?" I answer that we still have another day and she goes on to teach me to live in the moment. Not to fret about tomorrow or what it will bring.

We say goodbye to those around us. Finding the suitcases still half packed but my heart filling up. Video taping Lilly playing guitar for her friends one more time for the summer. Telling the ladies in my study I will keep praying. Watching the girls hug their "big friends" named Miguelson, Vladimir, and Alex. Telling the women in the kitchen I'll be back with new aprons. I wonder what it feels like to go home and to come back to home. Dreading three weeks away from the Farmer man and hoping he doesn't wear himself thin in the fields.

I tell Charles I'm looking forward to seeing people. Not starting over each week. Picking up where we left off. Knowing each other's history and going from the present. Easy time together. Depth. I miss it here. I meet people. Start going deeper and their five days is up. Back to the airport. Relationship cut short. I crave the depth. The hard parts in life that don't come with introduction. I'm grateful for a break in hosting. We host every week. About 26 days a month. I am anxious to sit at the table with no knock on the door. Or put the girls to bed without an interruption. But even so, we will miss the dark faces and big smiles that make Haiti home for us too. We will walk out the front door and miss the mountains and the 'bonjours.' I will forget I don't have to check shoes in the closet for spiders and go to the water tank for water. As Haiti and the States swirl together for me today I say a prayer that we will be all there wherever we are these next few weeks. I pray I keep learning the life lessons that are changing me and that a break from here brings refreshment to our souls.

On our way ...

Faces of Our Community

 Our friends at the orphanage all dressed up for Kids Day with caretaker Dalyia

 Jaques, BGM's architect and our friend, with the girls

 Juslyn who helps keep the Hope Center clean

 Mois, one of our security guards who just recently accepted Christ and is asking every day to know more of what the Bible says. Please pray for God to continue to transform his heart!

 Saint Vierge, one of my friends and the lady who cooks all the meals at the Hope Center

 Charles' most faithful agriculture assistant, Daniel

 Jilien and Juslyn

 Maria Teres, a friend and sister of Saint Vierge who serves us in the kitchen

My friends!

 Alex makes our world go round ... 

 How did she get so big?

 Mary

 The two ladies holding babies are both married to a local Voodoo priest. The one on the left is the mother of the twins we delivered a few weeks ago and the one on the right recently accepted Christ. Both were in church today for the first time. We are praying for their hearts to be completely transformed. 

Camille

More Patience

More conversations this week. More humility. More discernment and growth. I hear David Crowder's song I will worship ... worship you Lord ... Only you, Lord. This week I let my thoughts get too far on the people here, too mixed up in what we're doing right, wrong, not efficient enough, and only you, Lord becomes only lots of other focuses and my sight gives to blur and I can't see Christ in clear focus. The strain makes me want it more but it takes a few days to reel back the blurry and the clear picture of 'only you, Lord' to come back in clear.

Charles and I drop a friend off at the US Embassy. We enter another side to do paperwork. A uniform man stops us. We freeze. What is it? What is he saying? He is set on his words being understood. He looks a little shell shocked. What is it? Then he says in his half-Creole, broken English words, "It was you. Mwe konnen it was you." What was us? And then his semi-familiar face became recognizable. I remembered. His sick little girl was in the hospital next to our sick little girl. His sicker. He stood at her bedside while we stood at Ava's. He cried tears over a helpless child. The beds were an arm's length apart. We helped them out when we left but we didn't want credit. Charles paid two receipts. A small price for two little lives in that room. Our little one left with us while they stayed. His face said it all this week. He knew it was us and he was shocked to see us. Again gratitude wasn't the word his face spelled. It was stronger. There was a desire to repay us but no means. His soft smile as we left was priceless. He wanted us to go see his wife. Baby girl was having surgery and they were hopeful. We couldn't go by yet but we are hopeful too. That thank you was such unexpected grace on both accounts.

The girls stayed at the Hope Center and Charles and I went to lunch after the Embassy. Almost normal. A friend sat down and met us. Miguelson listened to our lives and we did the same for him. Almost normal having lunch with a friend. The team, the struggles, a million miles away from our thoughts for just a short while. An oasis. Fun. Maybe too much. Sometimes I feel like I'm in the ocean with the current and the waves pounding and I'm swimming to normal. It's the vague sight in the distance but not reachable. So I keep swimming.

Last night we went to dinner in Petionville, an hour and a half away. A team member left us all a little entertainment fund to go do something fun. A dollar that gives volumes. Jaques took us. We celebrated Jaques getting a visa and heading for the States. Our crew plus the interns and Jaques piled into his Trooper and made way on the bumpy road for Li Fior Latte. Abby and Mary wanted pizza so we went for Jaques favorite pizza. It was a nice Italian place. A little lighting, a nice ambiance, good pizza, laughter, conversation about the week. A close normal. A sigh of enough time outside the walls. The only glitch was one moment that I remembered that we missed a wedding we planned to attend. Oh no. We'll never make it. I questioned the possibility of going late. We gave in to the pizza and an apology.

Charles and I went running this morning. I tell him my recent fast revealed I need to keep looking in. Keep looking in. Keep looking for what I can do to change. Keep seeing my sin once and the Savior five times. Keep thinking how I can pour into the people in my realm of influence. Who are they? How can I bless them? What can I do differently? What do they need? I can hear the TVs roaring around us with soccer matches on them. Gol! We hear them roar. A kid gets Charles' attention while we run and points to his watch. Charles gives the time. In English. An instinct. I know the kid doesn't want the time. He wants the watch. Another disappointment. It's hard to adjust to.

Charles comes up the hill from the garden with a five-gallon bucket of beets, cucumbers and all colors of the earth's goodness piled high. Faithfulness. Nourishment. Ready to eat. Thank you for the harvest. It's more than the earth's colored goodness. It's the small seeds planted all over Haiti from God's people and there is a watering that comes even when there is no rain. We just can't see it.

I realize in an interview this week by a team member writing a book that I keep trying to reconcile with myself how to help the poor here. I keep trying to solve the problem. I keep skipping over God's faithfulness to just find the answers. I pray for patience. We can't solve it over night. But I want to ...

I talk to another team member who has come back from the mountain town where BGM works. Where the people live poorer. But richer. The air is cool and the contentment is apparent. Smiles and greetings are a given. Money isn't. One girl sells onions. A team member swaps a small bill for the onions. The girl walks away. When they ask through the interpreter where the girl was going, she said that the small bill was enough to eat and enough to quit selling onions for the day. Another team member returns with tears. She speaks out of a new place. How do they live like that? How do I process it and take it in? How do I see all of this in a week and change? We're all trying to solve it. The more I read this book When Helping Hurts, the more I read in the word patience to the pages. More patience in relationships to form, more patience in development, more patience in learning God. More patience to wait.

I submit a boundaries email to the higher up saying this is what our family needs ... how do I put it on paper? Is that all we need? Some breaks, some meals around the table, some prayers together at bedtime? 35 teams a year, each week with a day in between ... what do we need to serve at our fullest potential?

It's a steady how do we do this on a weekly, daily, moment by moment basis but the goodness in those moments is enough to go to the next.

Two Fingers

Children crawling on laps. Mamas trying to listen. Alex saying both languages. One lady swatting at the flies. Another lady fanning herself with the handout. The sun penetrating through the iron bars. Creole Hallelujahs offered up and a loud Amen in the universal Amen language at the end of prayer.

Women's Bible study has been a vital connection in my life lately. How do I really know what's going on in the community. An example is given ... the what ifs are the what happened. Now I read between the lines and know who's saying what to whom and how it keeps 'em from entering inside the church walls. I learn the struggle of hungry children and sick parents. I ask where one lady is and find out baby #6 has been beaten by daddy at school for a lesser grade. Prayer request time and one dark hand goes up with a plea for money to send a child to school. Another says work. The dark hands fold in some laps with hopelessness. One white-haired figure comes in with joy and a greeting to all. The chaos is not chaos. It's a messy life of joy and hurt and need and gratitude all mixed into a time together on Mondays. We talk about integrity and goodness and consistency. What is consistency when meals and money aren't? I hear hearts beating for basic needs ... not the ones North Americans think. Not things to hold. Needs to know God hears. Needs for shelter, food, clothes. Needs for bones to stop hurting and opportunities to work and needs for barriers gone and families whole again. Needs for shame to turn to confidence and despair to turn to hope. At the same time I hear their praises in their requests. I hear ak Jezi and a chorus of He Lives. It's all mixed together for all of us isn't it?

The last few days have been challenging because I'm learning so much. It's almost too concentrated to absorb. I wanna water it down to swallow. As I round the corner toward the end of an extended fast I see newness. Eyes opened to new revelation. God shows me so much when I want it. I see it when I look for it.

I have to brag on Charles. Farmer man draws more respect through an aisle of corn than anyone I know. He takes a hard lick this week and stands taller than I've seen him. He aches through the challenges but does not back down. Haitians ride with him in the truck and admire him. He is so well esteemed here. I am so grateful for the relationships he forms with so few words and so much life. He listens well and hurts with many. He visits those in need. I have never been so grateful for his humility as I was this week when I saw it shine in a dark place.

We had a few hard conversations this past week that showed me so much about my own sin and my desire to change. Isn't it so good of God to show us our own faults at the faults of others. Humility. Wisdom. As I read through the Bible this year I happen to be in Proverbs now ... and again, humility. Wisdom. Reign on my tongue. Consistency. Sincerity. Oh I'm learning. I teach the women through the Fruit of the Spirit and I teach myself. I am surprised by my own words. Convicted I can't live up to what I teach. I teach integrity is wholeness. Inside and out. Same in the house as out of the house. When one watches and alone. It takes a long time to establish and seconds to destroy. I wish I could decide to be consistent, wise, humble, discerning today and that be enough but I have to decide it every day. Even in the hard minutes. Absorbing hurtful words sheds new light on my own words. How they linger and can't be taken back. How they hang on people half unwanted and half believable. How does one push off man's word to believe God's?

I walked on the hill where our little community is with Alex yesterday and saw the painted homes that house the ladies I want to know better. Children crying. Women cooking over an open fire out back. Four little painted walls and a tin roof with a dozen people inside. Lay my hands on some to pray. I see the hurting, poor with my own eyes and want to help. I want to fix it. I admit I want to fix it so I don't keep seeing it. I want to fix it so I don't walk back into my air conditioned house beyond the walls with armed security guards and feel guilty. I want to know simple life but not feel the ache in my own heart. I am rereading a book When Helping Hurts that discusses how often North Americans have their idea of helping the poor that is not consistent with what the poor need. It lends itself to how the poor see themselves and how we as North Americans see the poor and the gaping hole between the two. It's so interesting reading it and seeing it at the same time. I see the shame and embarrassment on their weathered faces when they need something. I see the low self-esteem and the complicated web they are stuck in. I also see us trying to give clothes, give medicine, give food. The book's perspective is relationship - mentoring - discipleship ... people are more likely to come out of a place of poverty being when they form meaningful relationships that give them confidence to succeed in something and make changes in their life. I'm still thinking on it though .. how do we fix it all ... I'm still up at night wanting to know the answers.

Yesterday I drop the team off at the work site and greet our Haitian co-worker and friend. He has his own staff. Charles notices one staffer who has caused problems and was fired. "He still working for you?" Charles asked. Our friend says in so many words ... he just hangs around ... I told him we are not enemies and he is welcome to hang around here. He goes on to say we all need forgiveness ... "who else will show him Jesus?" I love that he gets it. Our friend gets it. I tell him we're working on that at the Hope Center too.

I noticed in church last week a dear Haitian lady didn't take communion when it was passed around. Then I noticed another Haitian friend this past Sunday passed without partaking. I asked a third friend why he and the others who we know know God would pass. I hesitated because I know that is personal. But his answer surprised me. He said that Haitians take a baptism class that explains more in detail what baptism is along with other Christian practices. He said that Haitians are only likely to participate in communion after they take the class. That made some sense to me although it seemed that Scripture never mentions a class. I went farther and asked if our local church or others often give the class, when it's offered, etc. He said that our local church hasn't offered a class and therefore the only people who partake are the ones who took the class before they joined the church. I asked if he has taken it, he said no and I asked if he would if it was offered, he said, "I'm not ready." It took me by surprise that a well respected Christian we know is waiting until he's "ready" to take a class not offered before he ever experiences communion. The end of the conversation was when he said, "It's just a white Christian's thing." Totally new perspective for me.

One of the highlights of my week was going to Port Au Prince Fellowship Church this Sunday. We worshipped in English. Eyes closed. I knew the words. I could hear my Haitian friend next to me singing in English with a Haitian accent. A little sliver of Heaven. Black and white together singing. Hallelujah. Oh Precious is the flow that makes me white as snow ...  the tune came bursting out of me as if I couldn't have sung it without a church and worship band. Ava on the hip of a Haitian and song coming from her mouth. Amen. Hallelujah! Lilly files out with all the children and comes back from Children's church telling me the story. The David wins story. Ava clasps hands with Miguelson and asks to play on the playground as the front of church overflows with conversations of the week. A lady stopped me and asked if I was new. New, yes. She noted my email. We swapped stories of Haiti life. She has six kids, home schools, moved here to work with a local church. Pastor was corrupt. The story is common. Sigh. She invites us over. I get in the truck and Charles asks if I have a new friend.

We ate lunch with friends. Three Haitian friends. We cross a big street, one holds both girls. He turns to me and says, I'm not letting them cross the street with just my hand. Does that mean when I give them two fingers to hold it's not enough? I look at the friends and think, wow, protective.

Big pizza. Smiles around the table. It's been a rare thing here to have a friend. We become friends with team members who come for a week. We are friends with the staff by default but it all happens inside the Hope Center walls. It was so refreshing to be outside the walls and at the table among friends. I am so grateful for that. I wish there are words for how Sunday filled my spirit.

On the way home Alex leans up against Ava's carseat. Ava cries because she is scared. No good reason why. (Except Haiti traffic is different. I'll stop there). From the car seat Ava says, "hold me, Alex." Ava puts her arm around Alex' arm and in minutes her eyes close and she is dreaming. I look back. White hand on black arm and Alex and I swap smiles. I captured it on camera. I am immeasurably grateful for friends and not just friends but in a foreign country to have godly Haitian men who serve as friends and protection to my daughters and tell me a hand isn't enough and to see arms linked in the back seat, it is a word I don't know but it is stronger than grateful.

That night Ava says her prayers ... "thank you for my Migueslon, my Alex, my Vladimir...."

Alex and Ava have lunch at the kids table

 Ava's Alex

 Ava's Miguelson

 Bible study

 My friend Sarah Lloyd sent 5 Jesus Storybook Bibles in Creole. This is me with Mensia who is one of the only ladies in Bible study who can read so I gave her one. She was so excited!

Bible study with the ladies

Going Bananas!

            The orphanage crew ... all dressed up in their Sunday best

 The Orphanage Garden ... first harvest of beets!

 We had our friends over for a goodbye party for Leyna!

 Lilly and Widlene were dressed alike and so cute!

 Girls hated to see the interns go ... Lilly getting one last squeeze from Hunter "Friday"

 Bye Hunter!

 Bye Leyna!!

 Watermelons that charles is growing

 All the bananas on the tree outside our house! 

Going bananas!

This has been a week of ups and downs!

The week started with the womens' Bible study on Kindness. I decided it was a real challenge to teach on how kindness relates to actual deeds of love and especially so to the poor when most of these women live on less than $2/day. Several of them had stories of people's kindness to them. One of the ladies who works with us, Jilien, said that she lived in the Tent City with nothing for her kids for over two years. It was after her husband had died in a motorcycle accident and left her with the children and no income. One lady started helping provide food for Jilien's 4 kids and for them to get to school. Jilien wishes she could find the lady who helped her and said she will never forget the kindness she was shown. It is examples like these that make me realize how much I have and how little I know poverty. I am reading the book (again) When Helping Hurts out loud to Charles and find so many things applicable and thought provoking about how we as Americans try to help and where we fall short. It's an excellent read for anyone interested in poverty around the world and ways to actually help.

One morning this week Charles, Lilly and I went down to the orphanage with a few friends and picked beets from the garden. It was so fun for the kids! Charles and I were so thankful for the beets representing God's goodness in a fruitful season of rain and sunshine. There is so much growing in the garden! In addition to that garden, we have a banana tree in front of our house that grew the first stalk of bananas! Lilly and Ava had a blast pulling a banana off the tree and eating it. 

Charles built a chicken coop several months ago and filled it with 6 chickens. We have waited and waited for eggs but we have only had one chicken laying one egg a day. It has still been fun to have the one egg a day but this week the other chickens have joined in and we are collecting 4 or 5 eggs a day. It has been encouraging to eat the fruits and vegetables as well as the eggs that are grown here at the Hope Center.

We had to say goodbye to the interns Leyna and Hunter this week which was sad for all of us but two new interns, Abby and Mary Marie, arrived this week. Lilly and Ava have already taken to them and we are grateful for all of their help.

I went down to the orphanage to have our little friends draw Leyna a picture for a goodbye present. They did and one of them wanted to give it to Leyna herself so I said let's go. They all started talking 90 miles a minute in Creole gibberish I didn't understand and scurrying out of the room. I go into their room and see them all changing clothes. They all took showers and put on their nicest clothes to come to our house and say goodbye. They skipped up to the gate and came in with proud faces and big smiles to give Leyna their pictures. She was out on the trampoline. Tears rolled down her faces and several of the faces of the team members as we watched the kids pile on the trampoline with their best art work in hand. It was sweet and yet simple. I love watching the little moments that make being here a blessing. That was definitely one.

Chikingunya, the mosquito spread virus that is rampant in Haiti, is affecting more and more people nearby us. Several staff members have it and Tony saw 25+ patients on Friday with the virus. We can only treat it with Tylenol and Ibuprofen so there are many hurting people around us that are enduring it. We are holding our breath and using lots of bug spray to fight the mosquitos.

Thankfully we are all feeling better. Ava still has bouts with stomach aches but overall we are fairing very well and cannot complain at all about our health.

Yesterday we said goodbye to the Summit team of 20 who held a basketball camp last week and welcomed a new team this week who will be doing a variety of ministry between Bible studies, construction and woodworking.

Friday afternoon we ended the week with a movie at our house with all of our friends from the orphanage. Although squirmy, they really enjoy the Friday afternoon movies outside of the walls in which they live and we really enjoy the change of pace for the 24 hours we have between teams.

Our family continues to try to figure out balance and life here. It is an emotional roller coaster sometims for teams to come. Sweep in, sweep out. Lilly and Ava attach to the girls like leeches sometimes only to watch them pack their bags a few days later. We are learning the cycle and trying out best to adapt. Lilly continues to home school and Ava continues to try to explore on her own. I spent the better part of the week organizing the 35+ suitcases that teams have left behind full of items they want to donate. It's a little bit of helping here and there between mommy duties and keeping the house together. I'm thankful for the little projects and for all the time I have with the girls.  We are doing our best to make it all work. Thankfully, we have grown closer with the national staff members here and couldn't love them more. It's been a blessing to have some consistency with them.

Charles and I are excited to go back to Port Au Prince Fellowship tomorrow for church where the congregation is made up of Americans and the service is in English. It's been encouraging to visit there and to meet more Americans each time and a break from the local Haitian church.

We are excited to see many of you as we head to the States in two weeks!

Thank you for being a part of this crazy journey!


We leave in two weeks for the States!