Headed for God knows what...
After a crazy weekend, Monday and Tuesday, I was able to stay up all night to pack and complete some last minute tasks. It always, seems as though there isn't time for everything, and there are always hundreds of "to do's" clouding my mind when I do want to relax. For this reason, as well as, being apart from Sarah and the kids, I'm apprehensive about being "disconnected" for eight days. On the other hand, however, I anticipate living eight days of being truly connected to life without all of the distractions.
We loaded both cars and went to the airport...Levi and me heading for Haiti while Sarah, Anthony and Angelina flew to Grand Junction for KC's wedding on Saturday. Our flight left first for Chicago where we barely caught our next flight to Miami. After a quick hour in Miami (during which i got on line!!! sold my old car, shot off 4-5 e-mails and spoke to both parents and Sarah) we loaded for the last leg of our journey promptly and on time...just to sit on the runway for an hour (BURNING UP) while we waited for a storm to pass over...miserable!
As we made the final approach to Part au Prince, I am honestly feeling a bit agnostic concerning this arrival in Haiti. Not because I'm unhappy or unexcited. In fact, I'm very excited, however I've been unable to place any type of expectation for this trip. The whole "open-hand" principle is great and true, but there is something lack-luster about not know what to expect. Again - on the other hand, the power of the principle is being out of control...so I'm going to Haiti and headed for God knows what!
Wow, Last night we finally arrived in Port au Prince, Haiti and began the foreign airport shuffle: complete entry forms for immigration, pray you have everything when you're called to go through, go to baggage and collect enough suitcases to cloth and feed 16 people for eight days, herd everyone together and try to navigate through the crowd of overly helpful natives who want to carry luggage! Finally, we made it to an old yellow school bus that was to take us to Mission of Hope. By the way, none of this happened without a short overweight local man trying to collect $100 for leading us to the bus. Anyway, we loaded and were on our way through the town. People were everywhere and I felt bad, but was unable to keep myself, on the rest of our group from staring. We saw a group of guys chopping sugarcane, another lady grilled some type of meat which she, presumably, planned to sell, little kids smiled and waved with big white smiles, others sort of somberly starred into oblivion, chickens, pigs, dogs, and cows peppered the masses. We continued to a more rural part of the city where trash fortified the road on either side. Wherever it piled up, someone had lit it on fire which cast a putrid stench of billowing smoke in to the sky. Then we arrived at the Mission of Hope compound, where we were introduced to the staff, director and DINNER!!!!
We took a couple of hours visiting, settling in and eating. Then I was dead tired...it turns out that we all were and all turned in for the night and oh what a night - All I can say is that I'm really thankful that I was so tired because I couldn't help but sleep, in spite of the still sweltering heat. The six-dollar, four-inch fan was my lifeline and all-in-all, it was a good first night.
This morning we got up early - I was up by 5:15 and the rest of the group by 6:15. It gets light around 5:30am and dark about 6:00pm Anyway, we had breakfast, had a fun together, discussed our night, sang together and took time to read, pray & journal. After that we toured the compound and were introduced to our work project...my favorite - painting!!! We were assigned to clean and paint the walls of the school house.
This afternoon we boarded up and went to a village just down the road. We split in two groups and walked through the village inviting kids to come meet up for a Bible lesson and songs. This place was crazy with a capital "C"...not in a weird crazy way, but an out of my world way. Yesterday, while we drove from the airport, I wondered if the Haitian people thought we were cool or obnoxious. Did they know our group was excited to see them or did we look like arrogant spoiled Americans condescending from our high perch in the bus? All that to say, that same question lingered in my mind as we entered the village. The kids quickly answered with open arms. If I had one hundred hands, I could have held one hundred and seventy-five kids, because I have six or so in the two hands I do have. I had two boys in particular stick to me like glue (the first was named Jim and I don't know the other). The whole experience was cool and was highlighted when a mom handed me her four month old baby girl...it made me miss my Angelina.
We regrouped for songs and the children had fun. I felt sad for this one little boy who kept looking at me. He had blotches all over his face and arms of open infected sores caused by who knows what. When I would look at him and smile, he shamefully turned away. I wondered how this little boy would grow up, if he ever felt love and how far he would go in life and years.
We returned to the mission and visited the orphanage on site called the Hope House. We played tether ball, soccer and held little kids. I can't begin to list all of the names for each child, but it seemed like four stood out: Benji, Dunston, Mizamella and a little girl whose name I can't recall. (some of these names are out there!) A common topic among the kids seemed to be my chin - go figure.
Mike and I walked up a half mile to our lodge. As we walked, we discussed how conspicuous it was that the children we saw seemed to be happy and fulfilled in spite of the despicable hell around them. We are so accustomed to wanting...wanting more, new, refreshed or cutting edge, bigger, better ______. We don't know the meaning of enough. For example, it occurs to me that if I was given one million dollars, I would easily be able to assign the majority of it to myself, my family, my future. What if I first considered what could be done outside myself? I have no clue what that looks like. I want my eyes to be open in the same way, they are as I look at these kids, in my everyday walk.
Sarah, I miss you! I am going to try and call this weekend.
This morning began early again when the fans turned off at 5:15am because the generator kicked off. Today seems like it's going to be hotter than yesterday. I'm burdened for our group. I want so bad for God to break through our hearts and show Himself real in a new way. "Dear God please draw us to Yourself. I see you working - continue and light a fire in our midst today." I read Matthew 6-8 this morning and am impressed that there is more power in the simple truth of the gospel than we realize...and that's why we make it so complicated.
Well I forgot to journal the rest of the day and am having a hard time with details except the following: I began teaching the entire group "Bud Mitchell's Estimation" and they all loved it. I played tether ball with my feet and got schooled...won a couple and was rocked in the head. At night we went to the Hope House to watch a movie with the orphans. We took "Shark Attack" with us, but the kids wanted to watch this movie called "Cheetah Girls"...holy cow, I got stupider in that hour! Anyway, my buddy Widler and new friend, Miseline, sat with me. Widler fell asleep in my arms and I went and tucked him in bed. (I should mention that while we watched the movie, we fed all of the kids a bowl of Pringles, which was the snack of the week. They kept offering me their chips and persisted to share...they are both very sweet kids.) Shortly after, Miseline, fell asleep as well and I took her to her bed.
On Saturday morning we got up and went through the regular routine, but instead of painting, we left early for a little town to visit another village of kids. We drove through this crazy market area where all the locals go for everything...basically an outdoor supermarket. When we arrived in this little rural village, we got out and crossed the river in order to hike two miles to the "big tree" for another gathering. A little girl named Farah came along and fell asleep in my arms. I carried her all the way until we returned. We saw banana plants, among other fruit trees. When left and stopped in town right by the market. We waled through the market and around the back of some buildings to their homeless shelter called "Grace House"...all I have to say in that our homeless shelters look like Taj Mahal in comparison. We weren't there long and left after a blind man played a song on his harmonica. While we headed to an orphanage a couple blocks away called "The Good Samaritan", two of our people were able to give the homeless some fresh water.
We had a great time at The Good Samaritan orphanage where I connected with two boys, Watson and Kevinson. Our group acted the story of Shadrack, Meshack and Abednego. The kids loved it and when we were done, my two little guys ran back to me. After spending some time there playing, we returned to Mission of Hope and went to the Hope House again. I once again attempted foot tether ball. Soon Widler ran out and yelled "Tony". He came and jumped in my lap. Then he ran back to his room. I was kind of sad that he didn't want to hang out. My other friend, Miseline, came out and sat by me. Shortly after, Widler came running out with two pictures that he had colored for me. He brought them over and unfolded them in pride and anticipated my response. Then he just wanted to sit in my lap. Miseline went and got paper and a pencil and began to draw and the color a beautiful picture. She finished and wrote at the top, "to Tony I love you God bless Tony". This was amazing and their love and desire to bless me was humbling.
Sunday worship - Wow, awesome, majesty, Heaven - any or all could be used to describe the session of corporate worship. The service was scheduled to begin at 9:30 am with the disclaimer that it was Haitian time. This probably explains why we didn't get going until 9:45ish. They welcomed the visitors. We then entered a session of song that took us before the throne of God. I was caught in an anthem of praise, reflection and humility. Just then, my eye was caught by a Haitian woman, in my row, who was on her head and knees weeping in reverent humility. Another man celebrated his freedom in Christ by dancing in the aisle. I was most moved when I heard the orphan girl next to me, Miseline, singing at the top of her lungs "Let the weak say I am strong, let the poor say I am rich..." As we stood singing, the wind blew through the open air structure with the mountains in the background dotted by cattle, horses and small shacks. The smell of burning trash from miles away steeped the air as a reminder of the vile and decrepit, lost and needy human existence outside the compound.
Today, so far, has probably been the most heart-wrenching of all. We went through the regular routine and had lunch, but then we went to see the new property donated by the Haitian government to Mission of Hope. They plan to move "The Grace House", add a second medical clinic and other stuff. It was a flat 50-acres right on the water. We drove as far as we could and then walked the remainder of the way through a banana forest. We all stood on the shoreline and watched as about 70-80 children came running through the banana plants - it was beautiful! Similar children: poor, half-dressed, smiling and dying for love. Then, we returned to The Good Samaritan orphanage. Little Watson and Kevinson came running up to me. I held them until they went to eat the second of two daily meals. Then I found out that they only have three months left on their lease. Unless they're able to get their new facility completed, they will close and put the kids out. This, of course, was very emotional, but was magnified a few minutes later. I was standing in back and met the director, Madam Lucien. I was asking about a little boy sleeping in a crib. His name in Luke and he is five months old. Myriam was standing by me holding a baby named Rebekah. Coleman, stood not far away holding a little ten month old boy named Alex. These three babies, plus one more did not have milk for today. My heart was wrenched inside and I wanted to bring them all home with me. There are one hundred and twenty-nine children in all. I ran through the market with Fabio. We were able to buy enough formula to get them through today and will take more from the mission tomorrow. As I wrap up the day, it's really difficult not to feel guilty about how stinking good I have it or what my complaints so often are. Never in my life have I wondered where I'll sleep or what I'll eat. I am directing myself to thank God for His goodness and expanding my heart even though the stretch is uncomfortable and painful.
Well it's here - Beach Day!!! We loaded up and headed out. On the way, we were able to stop, once more, stop at The Good Samaritan orphanage in order to drop off some more formula for the four babies. Myr and I went in with eleven cans of formula. The director was not there, so we gave it to one of the mommies. Little Rebekah was crying in her crib. It was great to see that she had a wet diaper and dried formula around her lips! It was still, however, hard not to stay to hold and comfort her...the mommy said she needed someone to hold her, but no one was available. Little Luke sat on the floor crying. I went and picked him up for a few seconds. He didn't have a diaper or pants on. We walked out, once more, with heavy hearts that we couldn't spend more time there or bring them home with us. However, we were comforted that we were able to help. Anyway, we continued to the resort on the beach and unloaded in excitement. The view was gorgeous and we scouted out a spot to ourselves. Things were pretty normal. Levi and Jake decided to swim out and around the divider. They were gone for a little bit and I got the hunch that I should go check them out. Before I could, get over there, Jake came around the corned and motioned for me to come quickly. I hurried around the rocks and saw Levi standing there with half of his face covered in blood. Apparently, they wanted to get a coconut down from the tree and were throwing rocks at it. Jake threw one and it bounced off and hit Levi in the head. Part of me was frustrated because they knew they weren't supposed to be over there, but the other part laughed inside because they were just being guys and exploring. They both felt dumb and Jake felt absolutely terrible! Anyway, I got Levi cleaned up and we enjoyed the rest of the day. We snorkeled, played in the water and had contests throwing rocks at the boundary markers around the swim area.
We returned to the mission and I went to the Hope House to see my kiddos one last time. We spent a few minutes talking as good as we could. Wilder gave me another picture and Miseline drew another as well. She also wrote a little note on the top. I gave both of them, as well as, Jeff a hug and had someone tell them, in their language, that this was good bye and we would be leaving the next day. They all were sad, but Widler was the least emotional. The wiredest thing happened...I started getting chocked up. This caught me off guard. These kids had somehow reached in and attached to my heart. I said bye, walked out of the courtyard and then broke down. Both then and now, I wondered why it was so hard, but I cried hard. Just about the time I got it all together, under the discrete cover of my sunglasses, I heard "Tony". I turned around and saw Miseline and Jeff running toward me. I stopped and they ran up and gave me a hug. Jeff didn't want to look at me, so I held him close and he sobbed. Miseline starred of, sat on my knee and tears ran down her face. I prayed with them and told each of them that God would be with them and I would be praying for them and loved them. That time was hard to turn away, but I did and looked back once and saw Jeff walk over, lean against the building and cry. I waved and they each waved back.
It's amazing that the little things you least expect, God can use to make a life-altering difference in the landscape of who we are. On the way down to Haiti, I asked people to pray that my trust and vision would be expanded and that I would gain a greater love. Heart-stretching is painful but necessary in gaining a greater capacity for love. God used these little, helpless and vulnerable kids to answer my prayer. When I entered Haiti, all I could see was the trash, mess and utter ciaos. All I could smell was the stench of burning trash, rotting food, unclean bodies and dirty animals. All I could hear was the ridiculous horn-obsessed drivers, the cries of people selling their goods and our own judgments, laughter and questions. As I leave, there is a piece of my heart that will remain. I now see people lost in the hopeless traditions of Voodoo, the depravity Satan & sin bring to their subjects and a remnant whose lives burn bright with the light and hope of Christ. All the smells are pretty much the same, but now carry memories with them...memories of holding half-dressed, love-deprived, smiling village kids, of trailing through a banana forest with our group and a bunch of orphans, of braving the market to get life-sustaining formula to little babies with no other hope, of a poor man, broken woman and orphan girl, with eyes closed, in raptured worship before the God who set them free and gave them hope and a family. Finally, I hear differently, I hear the crazy horn-obsessed drivers and just smile at the picture that comes to mind. I hear the laughter of kids with hope, cries of people in need and the silence of our group as we contemplate what we've seen, heard and experienced over the past eight days. It's fitting that a holy, omniscient and personal God would take us to a third-world country dedicated to Satan in order to show us Himself and His power. Thank God for Haiti and as we return, may we never forget!
I think it pertinent to include one last entry: I returned a little over a week ago and, as is typical in American life, I've not made time to reflect or journal. On the plane ride back, I was overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts. It actually might be more accurate to say, I just felt numb and unsure of what to do with all I had just experienced. I knew I couldn't simply return to self-focused indulgence, but I was unsure of what to do...how to reconcile the raw state I found myself in, after an eight day tenderizing process, with the cut-throat dog-eat-dog competition-driven society to which I was returning. Anyway, somewhere in the midst of that flurry of thoughts, the lady next to me began to share. I had introduced myself and, in my excitement, shared a few highlights of our trip. Anyway, almost out of the blue she shared that she lost her thirty-five year old daughter, Arika, in January due to cancer and she was looking for God to do something big for her. We had a deep discussion for the next hour and a half and left encouraged. I committed to pray for her and her son-in-law and his boy, her eight year old grandson. I told her that God used her need and transparency to remind me that I wasn't leaving a place of need (Haiti) to come to a place of perfection (USA). There are people every single day and we pass in our regular routine that hurt deeply, need love and need God. My prayer is becoming, not just that God would use me to help restore hope through His love to Haiti, but to the person next to me as well.
Thank you for visiting our site! This site reflects moments from our 8-day visit to . 5-adults, 11-teens and 1 God! We experienced poverty beyond imagination, depravity, despair and most importantly - the power and beauty of innocent love. We found God in children from many villages and orphanages. We experienced Him through the untethered worship of people whose true and only wealth is founded in Christ. We returned with an expanded love and greater vision for God's greatness and sufficiency!
Please enjoy and as you view these pictures, remember to pray for Hope to continue to grow in Haiti and in our hearts.