McCall Connection: A hundred fuzzy shades of gray

The wind starts blowing and the clouds turn dark. The rain's coming in. It's sunset and a storm coming close all mixed in together. The day started this way today instead of ending it. The first time rain drops hit my running shoes in the morning hours. It was marvelous to hear the rain hit the tin roof with a cup of coffee in hand and no place to go.

It's been a good, long week mixed with up and down.

It's been a good team. One with a lot of thought and very concise objectives to not just be present but to be a blessing. It's a quiet week of service for us. Late night napkin notes for the team's lunches, early morning hellos before they go to mobile clinic. The team is gone all day and we are left with peace. Kind of.

The rough mixed in with the little moments of victory and so much teaching and learning in all the in between floating moments. Today one doesn't want to do school and the other doesn't get the color bowl she wants for breakfast and tears all around. Meltdowns are past counting before the sun has fully risen and this mama wants to go from sneakers back to pajamas.

We make corn muffins out of "bad corn" (creamed corn) that was bought on accident instead of whole kernel and we prepare to take a goodie bag to a mama of baby number 9. The corn muffins go down hot and buttery. No one knows it was bad corn from the good muffin. There must be a hundred of the little pancitos. I set them on plates to cool. Back to math tears and unwillingness to work extra hard at a new concept. A back turned and a number of corn muffins gone, paw prints on the counter and a yelp from the consequence.

Frustration grows when both girls are teary and the Farmer is inside with headphones on working on his computer. Can I put my headphones on and hide out in the office? I feel like crawling under the desk sometimes. A hello turns into a lengthy exposition of how to turn the frustration inside out and come through with joy and contentment but it ends with knocks at the door and a yell that sounds like "Monsieur Charlz."

School doesn't end soon enough. It goes on and on but the good moments are mixed in too like chocolate chips mix in the dough but still stand out. She gets her spelling words right and the guitar notes on key. We all three climb in bed for a snoozer with a book about the deep ocean life. I tell the blondie fighting a snoozer that if she'll lie there still for fifteen minutes with her eyes closed that I'll let her get up but in two minutes she's dreaming.

We go visit the tired mama of 9 and pass off the goodies. She's grateful but it's not enough. It never is. She pulls a friend aside who is with us and says she needs money to send her kids to school. There's never enough to pass around. Kids are at home because school is too many dollars and she just added one more to send to school last week when she gave birth at home. This is the lady who has killed a dozen snakes inside her mud hut. She's in survival mode and we brought baby clothes and muffins. She was most pleased with a family photo I took of them a few months ago. She laughs at her big belly against the mud backdrop. Her first photo she's ever had, she says.

We spent a day in Port Au Prince yesterday. We packed up early and spent a day zipping through cars and doing school in route. A car full of us and new tunes coming through the player. We have to wait in traffic and strain our necks trying to identify the hold up. I say a quick audible prayer for traffic to lighten up so we can get moving. Alex says God doesn't answer those "little" prayers. I quickly responded that he hasn't had children yet and those little prayers get me through the day. Then asked how long or big do prayers have to be for God to answer them? No comment. The traffic lightened and we spent some of the day looking for music in Creole to teach the kids at children's church and to no avail. No luck. We did however manage to load up on pizza and ice cream at the fancy schmancy grocery store on top of the mountain with some of our favorite Haitian friends. The girls ate their weight in the "kiddie" portion of ice cream. Charles had a hard conversation with a friend and national coworker who needs to be more predictable and lacks transportation but has the heart of gold. A broken motorcycle and a call in that he's not on his way. A wife at home looking for work. The Haitian life isn't so black and white. It's a hundred shades of fuzzy gray. I talked Lilly Cruz into school during the wait at the hardware store. Then we weighed the car down with more plumbing pipes than I thought could be tied up on top of a pick up for some project underway. And off we go into the dark.

Speaking of going off in the dark, we pioneered our way through a new ministry in the last week. Last Friday we had a seminar training course for the people of the church to learn how to lead children's church. It exceeded my expectations. I was hoping for five participants and maybe a couple of zealous leaders among those five. To my surprise about 20 people came through the door ready to learn leadership skills for this aspect of service. The dark faces of all ages filled the seats. The madam teaching the training was enthusiastic with her teaching and many questions were asked. I laughed at my efforts to provide a snack. Pastor Mickenson recommended having a break with some sandwiches and juice but I couldn't get bread so I made chocolate cupcakes. 12 of them. So I ask Charles to cut them in half to feed the five thousand and by the time we had a break, chocolate frosting had melted and was dripping all over the place to the point that napkins couldn't save a clean shirt or the concrete floor. It was a mess. Snack failure. But the training had been success. Everyone was dutifully writing their notes on the papers handed out. I asked Alex why the trainer wouldn't type it all out and hand everyone a copy and he said we learn best from writing. Different strokes for different folks.

The evening ended with a successful seminar and pizza all around. Charles ordered pizza for the first time for the team and staff. It was a nice change from the regular menu. It wasn't faster necessarily but it gave our cooks a break and everyone had their fill. Well, almost ...

Team member Mr. John, who is affectionately nicknamed Grandpa, opened the pizza box to find it empty. He had had a small slice but explained he's a slow eater and it's gotten him in trouble before. Lilly saw the whole situation and offered her slice of pizza to him. It was a little gesture but a big victory for me. We've been talking a lot about selflessness since I've been reading a book titled "How to Raise Selfless Kids in a Self-Centered World." It spends a lot of pages giving practical advice for teaching kids how to put others first. For a hungry six year old to give up a slice of pizza unsolicited was a big step forward. I'm counting my blessings and praying the selflessness continues on all fronts. I find that I hone in on teaching them what I'm learning myself. This has been a trying season of service and selflessness. I want to put headphones in and blog but both children need me, the pot on the stove is overflowing, a team member needs some help, a neighbor is knocking on my door, etc. A picture goes on social media that leaves us out and credit goes to someone else. A story gets skewed to merit another. Everyone singing and having devotional while I put children to bed. It seems endless these days but I know God sees me. He says, "yes, I see you and I'm teaching you. Take heart." Lilly and I recite what obedience is ... doing what is asked, when it's asked, with a cheerful heart. This week she struggles with giving God her best so we start a school day with a prayer and some songs. We revisit one song throughout the day when her attitude wanes. This is the day, this is the day, this is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice, let us rejoice, and be glad in it ... and the song sometimes turns into full blown tears and what she's singing isn't matching what she's feeling but a commitment to God is not always a feeling, it's a choice. And we start over again until she can find the joy and turn the attitude around. I find myself having to come up with my own protocol for attitude change in those selfless moments when I want to scream for help and for some credit. Make right what's been wrong or shout for a new way but that's God's business. Ava of course is jovial and singing with no struggle since she has 14 hours of play time in a day. We spell out J-O-Y, Jesus - Others - You. In that order. Joy, Joy, Joy.

On that same note some of our new team members Terry and Kathy Warren, came in on Saturday to move to the other village, Thoman, where another Hope Center is under construction. Kathy told me later in the week that their house is behind schedule and won't be ready for months. She said it's unfortunate but we are content. Those three words rang in my head. I rarely hear people say 'we are content' ... especially when it has to do with living conditions that don't include running water or electricity. I hope to hold onto that and even in a hard season of selflessness find myself saying that out loud to those I come in contact with.

Our training ended over the weekend and despite the confusion with the time change we had a kickoff to a great children's church. It was refreshing in that no scissors and glue were required. We corralled 37 kids in to a small area and the program included a few songs, memorization of a Bible verse and the telling of a Bible story. No craft. No mess. Nothing that would have to be cleaned up and thrown away later. It was a beautiful time to see Haitians teaching Haitians. Besides church, it was the first time to step out of the way and watch them take on the responsibility themselves. I have no idea how sustainable it is or how long it will last but I'm taking myself out of the equation and supporting those doing the work. We've equipped them now we must let those individuals fly.

One of those children in children's church happened to be Helene, a five-year-old girl who lives at the orphanage. She was not back to her normal self yet but she was there and we were all glad. On Thursday morning Helene woke up with diarrhea and vomiting at 4 a.m. and by the time Tony saw her with visiting pediatrician Dr. Jessica Ewert around 8 a.m., Helene had gone into septic shock. She was rushed to the hospital with a 94 degree temp, blood pressure at 50/40 and glucose at 220. Her eyes rolled back in the back of her head. Lilly went to see her friend put in the truck and noticed she was wearing the dress Lilly had given her the day before. There were a lot of prayers for Helene in that hour to the hospital. The hospital suspected cholera but it was never definitive. Thankfully after several days of IV fluids her symptoms subsided and no one else got sick. Charles and I agreed we have never seen a child look that sick since we've been here. It's crazy how I look at Helene differently now. Kind of like the shift in my relationship with my mom. We almost lost them both and now we are a little more tender about what was given back to us by grace.

... continued from yesterday ...

The team is headed back to Mississippi and another team is on their way. A slow Friday gives way to laid back school and hopefully a nap. The time change happens over night but leaves us tired in its wake. The light earlier in the morning is a gift and the day's early end as well but less sleep hits hard after a week. We're grateful for the day, the coffee, the break, the moment, all it has to offer.