Sacred Space

Sunday morning. Hot coffee. Banana waffles and a dozen eggs from the 200 out back. I call Charles for breakfast. The girls climb up on the bar stools and plates are passed out. Miguelson grabs a stool. Then Debi. There's a woman laboring in the clinic. Her screams penetrate the walls of our house and it's only a matter of time until her screams stop and the cries of a baby start.

We're back into Haiti life full swing. We landed Tuesday afternoon and staff faces were waiting for us with hugs. We loaded suitcases in the truck and enjoyed the rain coming down in sheets. After the drought, the rain is a blessing. We arrived at the Hope Center and we're home.

Charles and I are welcomed back by David Lewis, the intern who has graciously kept things running for us while we were Stateside. We swap stories and give updates. Later David takes photos of us and shows us accounts of the events during our absence. It's good to be back. Mack snuggles up to Charles and we all enjoy the time back at home.

The last team left Friday morning with team photos and a camera full of memories. Tony and Mickie, Jacob and Madison all left for first day of school and some R and R. Friday afternoon included Uno and loads of wash. Sorting and packing up team goods left behind for local families. An easy afternoon with a few stories and a snoozer between the girls. The end of unpacking. I see a face here and there that I've missed and hug necks that I haven't hugged in a while. It's good to be back. I see Jilien and she tears up. So glad to have us back. The house is immaculate and I'm grateful. I wake up to the sound of 200 chickens clucking outside my window. I peek out and Makil is passing through the houses putting eggs in the basket. Hundreds of eggs to collect and wash. It's a beautiful thing to see that basket full of eggs in the morning and then eggs passed out to the village. The program of distributing chickens to the families start soon. Charles has worked up a contingency contract and the families will be receiving a chicken coop and six squawking creatures inside with a payback program of ten eggs a week. The eggs will go to market to be sold. Sustainability.

A trip to the orphanage brightens the day. All thirteen children smiling and glad to see us. They greet us with "mwe sonjo u" ... I missed you too, I say. Lilly has been begging me to get to stay in the orphanage for a night and a full day so I ask Ydalia, the main caregiver who immediately grants Lilly's request. Lilly agrees that we can wait another day on school starting and she jumps with jubilation.

Friday we get word from Jaques that he can meet us for dinner. Miguelson wants to meet us too. Debi is in too. We load up and ride in just in time to see the sun go down. We talk and laugh in the car. Jaques talks about disgruntled customers who won't speak to him and how he refuses to offer the other cheek. Cultures win over the Words of Life. Charles and Jaques talk business and travel in the front and the girls line up on the back seat with laughter over Ava's words and silly things on top of Haitian heads. A bag of seed barely balances on the motorcycle in front of us. We find La Reserva, a restaurant surrounded by tropical green paradise. I think again, we're back and it's good to get out. The girls run around and our faces glow around the table. Smiles all around. I try to absorb the environment but even more the company. Three Haitians and three Americans and two little girls who couldn't be loved more. I hear Ava's squeal when Jaques chases her on the patio and Lilly giggles over selfies with Miguelson. A change in menu is nice but not the reason we venture out. The time outside the walls and the moments together that build the relationships brings us to the table. Jaques laughs until he can't catch his breath and Miguelson and Antonio start in too. They are laughing so hard they may choke. It's contagious and Ava is covering her mouth she's laughing so hard. I wish I could record the sound of it because it was a beautiful thing to be around the table in laughter and joy. In Shauna Niequest' book Bread and Wine,  she says, sometimes food is the end and sometimes it's a means to an end and sometimes you don't know which it is until it happens but the food and the table and the laughter create a sacred space. I have come to love that sacred space around the table of mixed colors and cultures that have created a rich friendship.

We drive home late. Sleeping babies next to me. I put them in beds and kiss their faces. The text on my phone says my sister has received news of some complications with pregnancy but she is doing ok. We swap messages and I fall asleep thinking about the new life in her and earnestly hope we see miracles in the weeks ahead.

Saturday morning my eyes are sick again with infection and gunk. Warm compresses. New antibiotics. Cleaning the Hope Center. A run on the treadmill. Games with the girls. Re-entry for me after 6 weeks of out of the habit of receiving teams.

The team arrives and we fellowship over Marie Therese and Vierge's fried chicken and sauce pwa. I love seeing the faces of teams as they discover Haiti. It's a process. I know it well. I did the same thing again this week.

Miguelson walks up while we eat dinner and my girls put forks down and run to their friend. Group hug and then their off to hide and seek. We finish up dinner and the team is glassy-eyed and been awake for 24+ hours.

Charles and I say goodnight. Turn out the lights. We laugh with Miguelson over ice cream and stories of the States and girl advice. Another opportunity to be friends where friends don't come easy. It's too late to stay up. Dishes are washed and clothes folded and put away.

We laughed though at midnight when I remember David is gone and so is his responsibility to make the coffee for the next morning. I nudge Charles, "Did you make the coffee?" Charles grunts and rolls out of bed. I go with him to make it. I whistle to the guard and ask him to turn the pot on at 5am and he agrees to. It takes an hour to brew 60 cups. However, there is a hot pot of coffee in the kitchen. He says they never unplugged it so the security guards come flocking into the lit kitchen like birds to a feather and coffee is served up hot to several mugs with plenty of cream and sugar. I tell them "pa domi" ... drink up, don't sleep. I hug a guard at the gate who has recently been transferred and we exchange a kiss on the cheek as customary. I tell Lovoil the girls miss him and we wish he could come back. We finish making coffee and get back to bed. It occurred to me what a strange story that would be for the States and how normal it was for us here.

This morning a lady gives birth to a beautiful baby girl, Nakicha. The proud father laughs as he holds her. A true miracle. We carry chairs to the church and sing How Great is Our God in several languages and I remember that tiny glimpse of heaven when I hear all the tongues in one.

We chat with Mickenson and his bride over lunch. He is the local pastor but lives an hour away. He keeps a day job because pastor jobs don't pay enough. Some things are universal. He is a gifted man with a musical talent on guitar and a voice that sets him apart from others. I thank him for announcing the women's Bible study tomorrow and he asks me what we will be talking about at the study. We talk about it and about the importance of discipleship and how to make it work when the majority of those here can't read or write. He agrees we need to teach them the Words of Life and such. We discuss teaching the children during church since they are needing to hear the Word too.
I ask Mickenson why people don't take communion when it's offered. He explains Haitians don't believe they are forgiven and that their sins stand in the way. They lose sight of the ways of communion and again I'm surprised that Satan has played that card in this culture and so many miss the blessing. I make note of that conversation in my journal to pray for those around us to truly receive God's gift of forgiveness.

So many things I'm learning. So much to be thankful for. I really do like it here. I like the reflection, the hard lessons, the teams, the gifts, the revelations. We have all that we need and we hold it with an open hand. I'm grateful for the sacred space at the table too.