we're not competitive or anything
Thanksgiving dinner
Last Saturday we made plans to go eat Japanese with our friend Jaques. Plans in Haiti are not like plans in the US. Plans in Haiti are always in (light) pencil and are as tentative as the word allows. At 4pm Jaques says he is at the hospital with a friend in Port Au Prince. He isn't going to be able to get away to go. Plan B already in place. Because Tony and Mickie's plans had changed too, the truck was available and we were moving on to our default plan. Alex gets in and we are now going for sushi with Alex. Jaques will meet us there. The more, the merrier we think. Traffic jams, missed turns, etc. We arrive at the UN at 5:45 and walk the mile back to the sushi place where we only see locked doors and dim lights. The sushi restaurant closed at 5pm on Saturday evening. That makes total sense, right? We end up at the Deck, a secondary (in every meaning of the word) kind of place swarming with UN employees and open air seating. Jaques calls and says he's behind. It ends up we order him a plate of beef fajitas to go and the evolving plans don't even seem to bother us. The girls are picking through their Monte Christo and I'm trying to distract them from the inappropriate episode of whatever it is on the large TV. It's a night out with something different and we're all grateful. We meet up with Jaques and pass along his dinner. He apologizes and we nod it's ok. He plans to follow us back since he mind as well be a policeman and safety calls. On the way back we see Miguelson. He is right in front of us but we notice he is in the back seat of his own car. Charles picks up the phone and hits send but it's Mickenson and not Miguelson, the two look alike in the contacts list. We realize the mistake and get Miguelson. We call and ask him, "Why aren't you driving?" He turns around and we wave. Out of all the people in Port Au Prince, our buddy is in front of us. We all pull over and laugh together. The girls scream, "Guelson" and everyone catches up for a few minutes. We can't stay because Port Au Prince after dark is not a youth group rally. It's Ra Ra and crime scenes. We make our way to Croix de Bouquet and pick up Mickenson and Jasmine from the mazey neighborhood. They have an overnight bag and their coming for the night at our house. A little fellowship and a little less transportation headache for them. There's Jaques in front of us and a car full of us all the way back to Hope Center. The girls are giddy Jasmine is coming over for a sleepover. We get girls to bed upon arrival and I slip a pan of brownies into the oven. Charles requests coffee and we are finally relaxed on the couch with good friends, coffee and brownies. Jasmine turns in and then our conversation turns more focused. Struggles together. He says, "I know it's hard" and in a tender moment, the warm salt spills over my cheeks and I know it's hard. I don't want it to be. Challenging situations, hard personalities, slacking participants, it's all part of the conversation of hard. What do we do next. Coffee cups are set down, prayers go up. Late night of hashing out the thoughts and looking for answers.
Sunday morning starts again with coffee and breakfast. I get food on the table before pastor goes to church. Ava asks him in his white t-shirt, "Are you going to church like that?" ... Laughter comes easy. I hit the treadmill and ask him to shower so I can get in after a run. He cleans the kitchen and we both need showers at the same time. This is what I was trying to avoid. But my words don't say thank you for cleaning the kitchen. Instead I do something I shouldn't and I'm still feeling bad about it. He goes on to church and I'm left feeling guilty. It cheers me up to see the tables lined with children from a year to eighteen listening to Ydalia teach the lesson. Short verses memorized and songs sung. The afternoon is full of saying goodbye to friends and hugs and grocery shopping.
Monday comes quick and the church fills up with familiar faces and worn out Bibles. We get started late and talk about the adult version of Noah. The building an arc when everyone's laughing. We talk rainbows and promises and where are we with our sinful culture now. Our prayer requests extend to school exams and burned houses, snake bites and neighborly brawls. It's hard to jot down a family of 8 being kicked out of the house with no place to go. It's just one side of the story but it's still a handful of homeless. We stop to pray. Dozens of little whispers go up in a mumble but God gets it. He hears the groaning when words don't express. We end it by holding hands and the words in song sound like something I could never describe in words. The voices sound like one and I wish we could just sing it over and over but a few times and it's a blessing. Bondye ka fe tout bagay, tout bagay, tout bagay, Bondye ka fe tout bagay pou mwe. God can do all things, all things, all things for me....
Tuesday morning and beach towels are packed. We are squeezed into the truck like a can of sardines. The Wests and McCalls are off for sand and sunshine. The trip is split up by four new tires and a lot of waiting. We arrive and our vacation begins. They are there for a 24-hour reprieve and we've extended ours after getting word our Thanksgiving plans fell through. Friends with a death in the family say we have to postpone. They needed to catch flights and we needed a new plan. Three nights at the beach instead of one. We traded in turkey for fish and some pina coladas with sand between our toes. I was the one who said three nights may be too many. But someone gave us a little happy money for a Thanksgiving gift and we are putting it into family time away. Our days at the beach this week were so full of laughter and smiles I am still replaying it in my head now that we are back home. The girls were in the pool until their hair turned green and their fingers turned prune-like. Charles and I enjoyed the conversations and time of prayer with our feet in the ocean, the late night movies and the grilled fish. The first night Charles hooked up a movie to the TV (something we don't have) and the girls giggled over Chicken Little while in bed. Lilly's highlight of the week. They crawl into bed as soon as sunlight hits the window and the palm trees outside are visible. Ava has crusty stuff in her eyes from sleeping hard and when I ask her what it is she says "it was just some trail mix." We break into laughter and she's a good sport. The scunscreen goes on thick over and over as the sun beats down. I think to myself next week how cold I will be and instead of swimsuits, we'll be in layers. I swam laps to give my legs a break from the pounding and the girls and I explored in the ocean. It was delightful! We run into two American girls we know and talk missions, frustrations, transportation and all the likes. They get it. Their break is coming in a few weeks. It's been a hard year, they say. I agree with them for different reasons but the same truth. Back to the handstands and floating with "muscles."The girls played hard and took long afternoon naps, allowing me to read more than a paragraph in a book. I read more of Dave Stone and how to be intentional with family. I have new ideas to implement. Charles and I processed through more of the hard stuff and the decisions to come. What's best for us. What's best for someone else. How to handle disappointments. What does support look like. One evening I kept thinking of Jasmine and her getting home from work in the dark with Mickenson gone. I send a text. No reply. Another text. No reply. Mickenson says she's still not home. I can hear the worry through the text. We pray. Girls stop watching the movie to pray with us. Then an hour later we hear that she's been in a motorcycle accident. She's hurt her leg. Mickenson says it's not good. We follow up. I recount in my head how the Holy Spirit urges me to pray at certain times. We think maybe the checking in and prayers is a way of support. We get a phone call later in the week that she is doing better and the thankfulness for the friendship. The phone conversation is cut short. Minutes are out like an old pay phone. The thoughtfulness in the call counts. We make another phone call to family. It rings and I'm hoping it doesn't leave me homesick. Everyone is rushing to set the table. Sarah has cooked a turkey and mom's taken a nap. I miss those voices but I'm glad there's no reason to rush. We all left with full hearts and a gratitude that comes aside from busy Thanksgivings in the kitchen and around the table. This time it was in the pool and by the ocean. My littles raced down the beach and we walked for hours collecting shells. The blonde one wanted to build sand castles and make sand pancakes for all of us. The Haitian pancakes were just as good at breakfast every morning along with other Haitian traditions like the fish dish they eat for breakfast over potatoes and spaghetti with hot dog and ketchup (yuck). We have a few more tickets left and we spend them on pineapple juice and a club soda. Wet swimsuits are packed and vacation ends. The girls get one last go on the beach playground. Whoever thought of that was genius. I watch them see saw and swing while we wait for Vladimir. An easy Friday afternoon.
Our trip back was long with traffic jams and Port Au Prince teenage crowds. The should've been two hours took four and the girls arrived content to have a grilled cheese and go to bed.
Today was meant to be for accomplishing a long list of "to do's" and unpacking but ended up taking a different direction. The stomach bug took away my energy and left me with long naps and open suitcases. The girls both prayed for me and tried to understand my closed door and the don't come ins. Tomorrow will have to be busier if we are going to leave on Tuesday.
In two days we will be on planes going from our one world to the next. Two months away. I'm not sure what to do with two months. God knows. I'm praying for the right things to be packed, good care for the plants and animals, the lists all complete, the goodbyes sincere, and the transition smooth.
We hope to see as many of you as possible in the next two months. It will be a whirlwind of travel with some down days interspersed. Thank you for lifting us up. We covet your prayers in the days ahead as we touchdown and make the most of our time there. We pray that the holidays would be spirit-filled and intentional. I'm hoping to miss the mall crowds and the late night wrapping and instead have cups of tea and conversations, make memories and laugh a lot. It's been one heck of a year with some very high highs and some very crushing lows. God is good in all of it and here's to hoping we celebrate his birth with that in mind.
Ava comes in, wakes me up and says, "let's go today." ... Tuesday will come quick I say.
