Happy Sardines

I hop in the truck and honk for the security guards to open the gate. We get half a truck outside the gate and Bicly looks in the back seat and suddenly looks back at me. He asks in broken English, "You have no bag?" I laugh to myself. How do I not have a bag? Maybe because when we buy bread in the States, it comes in a bag. I'm not used to providing my own. So he hops out and comes back with a bag. And soon it's full of warm bread that will be part of the fellowship at the study later today. Bicly giggles and says, "You drive good. Better than me. You learn to drive in the USA?" I laugh because I drove for 15 years before I moved to Haiti but most Haitians don't drive when they turn 16 or 60. They walk. It was a giggly trip to buy bread.

I come back to a quiet house. It was a late night for the girls with 3 friends from the orphanage spending the night. I woke up to the giggles before daybreak. Edna saw me start the treadmill and was amazed at the moving machine. My girls started a warm bath and before I knew it, all five girls were in the warm water. Madride said she had never been in a warm bath. Eight years old and no idea of a warm bath!! They were in there like sardines, happy sardines. They had stayed up watching a movie in bed - another new concept, and eating a late night mango snack. This morning I made oatmeal with insane amounts of sugar since that's the Haitian way and breakfast burritos and mangoes. I figured they would find something they liked. I borrowed plates and silverware since I continue to open drawers in the kitchen only to find empty space. We are down to smoothies and eggs for the most part.

We finished off breakfast and spent the morning at the orphanage making flags to celebrate Flag Day together. They waved their homemade flags with pride and sang the anthem for me. We were back on the playground and soccer field getting wiggles out all before lunch. The afternoon slipped away just as quick as the morning had. It was almost time for Bible study ...

...

As I walk down to the church, they are lining the walls, waiting for the church meeting to end so we could go in. The chairs are already in a circle but I add more to it. I know it will be a big group today. Maybe because it's the last or maybe because I've promised food or maybe because it's Flag Day and no one is in school or working. I will never understand why most of the ladies wait until about 4:15 to bathe for a 4pm Bible study but they all come pretty clean and late.

We start off talking about what God's taught us. How he has been working on us this last year and a half. The transformation that takes place inside the walls on Monday afternoons between us ladies. It was a sweet time of swapping growth stories. I heard a few similar ones about that neighbor yelling at me or that family member yelling this and instead of yelling back, I prayed for her. And the walls have slowly come down and relationships have formed. These women are living out the evidence of their faith one prayer at a time. I love that they have absorbed the stories of the Holy Scriptures and are retelling them to those around them. One lady said now she knows not to ever name her babies Achan, Samson or Saul. I laugh. We review the stories we've learned together and I pass out 1 and 5 gourdes coins. It's like handing out quarters for right answers. They start getting competitive, shouting answers before the question's asked. I love that they know the answers. Their proud they know. Frantz is just there to interpret but he's proud he knows too. I dole out all the golden coins and we laugh over who said the answers first and who's buying a soda after the study.

The laughter dies down and they burst into song. Mensia's voice starts them and I hear her all the way through. They sing one familiar song after another. I love it. I try to video it and yet I can't absorb it all in the moment if I'm recording it. I put the camera down and sing with them. Eyes closed. Praying I can relive the moment in my mind when I miss it. I smile at their open mouths and pretty voices. The ladies have given over their Monday mornings and their songs give way to their joy. We hold hands one last time and sing Bondye ka fe. I squeeze the hands. I know I won't be holding them long. I miss them already and I can still feel them. We pray all in one voice and then the hush. I pray for each one and the ones they represent and the retelling of the stories they now know. They each get a packet of seeds and we talk about what seeds need to grow. I pray they take the visual home with them and grow something .... something they can see and eat and replant and they can tell their kids the stories and their neighbors and their friends. The stories of the One. I explained that we never know the impact of the seeds we plant on this side of heaven.

We snap some photos and pray a blessing. The food is off the table faster than I can say Amen. They smile at warm bread with Nutella and peanut butter. It's drippy and sweet. Their all visiting now. The room is so loud. I know there are more than 40 present because we came up short on bread. I announce I have pictures of the baptisms and they rush to me to see their new life on photo paper. I rearrange chairs and it's over. I hug necks and thank God. I only see a few tears from ladies filing out. I praise God for the laughter. The victory of studying together for more than a year. For sticking it out. For praying for one another. God is so good all the time and all the time He is so good.

I walk back up the hill and I see them all chatting - they've just moved locations. I love their little circles and comparisons of seeds. Even Felancia is standing there chatting after the study and she told me she couldn't come today. Too much laundry. She put the soap down and came. God does that. He makes us set the soap down and go listen.

I change into my sneakers and take off over the rocks. I love a good run after a personal victory. I sling sweat and turn a corner where I see the sunset meet the mountains. I'm in awe. A big God who can shape a group of women, make us put down our soap and pick up our Bibles. A God who plans our steps beyond what we know is best. One who gives us treasures and victories in the "lasts." I stop at the orphanage on my way back in. I walk in and the children are clean and ready for bed. I hug them and say goodnight. I do the same for my own girls. Our last Monday, Lilly says. I say what treasure did you find in the last Monday here. She tells me a little highlight and kisses my cheek. Some days are one foot in front of the other and some are victory-filled.