It's hard to not feel like a failure. After working so hard to be accepted and finding out after eight months that you're no more accepted than when you first came. Days like today make me want to crawl in a hole and pretend I never tried. Weeks like this make me wonder why I ever bothered.
Did I make a difference? Am I any different than the hundreds of others that come through to do their "good work"? Is being here long term anything different than short term? I am still going to leave and life will go on as if I were never here.
So why bother? Why did God call me here? Did I do all He wanted me to do here? Or did I fail? Is my failure just because of how things are or because I didn't live up to my calling? Did I not rely on God enough?
And how do you return home feeling like this? How do you explain to those waiting at home for your incredible God-filled stories? How do you explain that you didn't live up to what you thought?
But that's just it. All those thoughts are all about me. Is this just the enemy trying to distract me in this last week here?
I know there were God-filled moments. I know I saw Jesus in a smile or little hand. I know that though I may not have made giant waves, I did make small ripples and we have no way of knowing what God can do with that. I have to leave here knowing and trusting that this is all God's work anyway and these are his kids. His people. And I am His as well.
So I leave my hiding place with humility and grace and trust Him to do all He wants in me and through me this last week here in Haiti.
"I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to make many ripples"
- Mother Teresa
"I can do all this through him who gives me strength."
- Philippians 4:13
"I keep me eyes always on The Lord. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken."
- Psalm 16:8
Saturday, May 23, 2015
Monday, May 18, 2015
Coming Home
Two weeks from now I will be boarding a plane and leaving this beautiful country I have called home for the last 8 months or so. I don't know how to describe all that has happened in the last couple months to bring me to this place... That may come in a later post. I just know that flying over these beautiful mountains and saying goodbye will bring a rush of mixed emotions.
My time here has been such a wonderful experience. I have learned so much about Haiti, the Haitian people, ministry life, working and living closely with others and of course about myself and my relationship with God. I have experienced joy like never before and my heart has filled with love to depths I never knew existed. I never thought I'd ever be ready to leave this place and that brings a lot of questions and doubts. I do know though that I am in no way ready to close the door on Haiti forever. This place is still home to me and probably always will be but I need a break.
I could head back to Haiti as soon as August or September or it may be in the more distant future. I may come back with these kids who are now part of my heart or it may be somewhere else in Haiti. I may work for awhile in the States and come back in years to come. For now I just know that I am coming home for a couple months to pray about this and get some perspective outside of the chaos of life here.
While I am sad to be leaving the kids here I am so looking forward to seeing and spending time with my family and friends at home. I am looking forward to worshipping with my church family each Sunday. I'm looking forward to a New England summer and all that it brings. I'm looking forward to replenishing my spirit and seeing what is next. I know He knows.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
It's been nearly three months... How did that happen???
Not too long after I last posted I went home to visit for a couple of weeks. I had mixed feelings about going home. Of course I was excited to see everyone but I had also grown to love my life here. I was nervous that if I went home I wouldn't want to come back here. I was nervous that I wouldn't fit into life there anymore. I was nervous about enjoying the comforts of home too much. But I left the 90 degree sunny days for what ended up being three weeks of endless snow. I think in the few weeks I was home it snowed 7 feet and Boston broke the record for the snowiest winter ever. Guess I didn't miss winter after all!
I had no problems adjusting right back to life in the States although it took a couple days I get used to driving again- especially in the snow! had planned to be home for two weeks but because of all the snow my time was rushed and I ended up staying for an extra week. I was overwhelmed by all the family and friends who wanted to see me. It was great to catch up and share stories and just be loved on by everyone. By the end of that extra week though I felt ready to back.
Going back was harder than I thought though. I didn't see that coming. It didn't help that my luggage was lost for a few days. I felt out of place and couldn't get back into the groove here. Things I used to love now drove me crazy and I struggled for a couple weeks. I really wasn't sure if my heart was here anymore. How could I go from wanting to live here for multiple years to not being sure if I will even make it to the summer...in just three weeks time?! What happened? I decided that I would stay till the summer no matter what and we will see what happens from there. There will lots of changes here with people leaving and new ones coming. My funds run out in July also so if I do stay I will need to fundraise again for another year.
Then one weekend I got to visit some of the people from my first two trips at the guesthouse where I first fell in love with this place. It was up there on the roof that night that my heart remembered why I love it here. It was that roof where I first fell in love with the roosters and sunrises and sunsets. It was that roof just a year ago that I prayed about my second trip and then on that second trip, about moving here. All those initial feelings came back and I felt alive again.
God knew this timing because it was the next week that I had to unexpectedly go home for my uncle's funeral. If it had been even a week before I would have packed all my bags and left for good but God had other plans. He allowed me to fall in love with this place again before I had to return home. I went home for a week and spent the much needed time with family during a very difficult time. And when it was time to return to Haiti again, I had no problem going back or jumping right back into life here. I was still in love.
More obstacles have come up that try to make me want to leave but I just see it as all the more reason to stay. Clearly the enemy doesn't want me here which is all the more reason for me to push forward... knowing that God still has work for me to do here.
Here are the last few months in pictures...
Not too long after I last posted I went home to visit for a couple of weeks. I had mixed feelings about going home. Of course I was excited to see everyone but I had also grown to love my life here. I was nervous that if I went home I wouldn't want to come back here. I was nervous that I wouldn't fit into life there anymore. I was nervous about enjoying the comforts of home too much. But I left the 90 degree sunny days for what ended up being three weeks of endless snow. I think in the few weeks I was home it snowed 7 feet and Boston broke the record for the snowiest winter ever. Guess I didn't miss winter after all!
I had no problems adjusting right back to life in the States although it took a couple days I get used to driving again- especially in the snow! had planned to be home for two weeks but because of all the snow my time was rushed and I ended up staying for an extra week. I was overwhelmed by all the family and friends who wanted to see me. It was great to catch up and share stories and just be loved on by everyone. By the end of that extra week though I felt ready to back.
Going back was harder than I thought though. I didn't see that coming. It didn't help that my luggage was lost for a few days. I felt out of place and couldn't get back into the groove here. Things I used to love now drove me crazy and I struggled for a couple weeks. I really wasn't sure if my heart was here anymore. How could I go from wanting to live here for multiple years to not being sure if I will even make it to the summer...in just three weeks time?! What happened? I decided that I would stay till the summer no matter what and we will see what happens from there. There will lots of changes here with people leaving and new ones coming. My funds run out in July also so if I do stay I will need to fundraise again for another year.
Then one weekend I got to visit some of the people from my first two trips at the guesthouse where I first fell in love with this place. It was up there on the roof that night that my heart remembered why I love it here. It was that roof where I first fell in love with the roosters and sunrises and sunsets. It was that roof just a year ago that I prayed about my second trip and then on that second trip, about moving here. All those initial feelings came back and I felt alive again.
God knew this timing because it was the next week that I had to unexpectedly go home for my uncle's funeral. If it had been even a week before I would have packed all my bags and left for good but God had other plans. He allowed me to fall in love with this place again before I had to return home. I went home for a week and spent the much needed time with family during a very difficult time. And when it was time to return to Haiti again, I had no problem going back or jumping right back into life here. I was still in love.
More obstacles have come up that try to make me want to leave but I just see it as all the more reason to stay. Clearly the enemy doesn't want me here which is all the more reason for me to push forward... knowing that God still has work for me to do here.
Here are the last few months in pictures...
 |
| Beautiful tree flower at the beach |
 |
| My daily work with Herode |
 |
| Out baby feeding (photo taken by a visiting group member) |
 |
| Leaving Haiti |
 |
| Grass!!!! (In Ft. Lauderdale) |
 |
| Reuniting with my niece and nephew |
 |
| Sibling game night |
 |
| Snow |
 |
| Lots more snow! |
 |
| back in Haiti! |
 |
| Homework time |
 |
| Love my time with the kids |
 |
| They didn't have enough bikes for all so they created a train |
 |
| Wahoo Bay beach day |
Thursday, January 15, 2015
A Glimpse into the Ravine
"Blan! Blan!"
I turn to see a half naked child reaching their hand out to me with a big smile. I smile back and say bonjou. As I navigate the narrow alleyways leading to the ravine my arms are rubbed, my hair is stroked, and I've given too many high fives and fist pumps to count. I've weaved my way around men pushing wheel barrows, women with heavy water buckets on their heads and tables of various products being sold- anything from flip flops, to fruit and veggies, alcohol, and clothing.
There is music blaring from speakers around each corner, dirty laundry water being splashed onto my feet, and the ladies calling out their prices for the food they are selling. I smell the food cooking on the charcoal as we walk through the markets and then have to jump to the side of the road, ducking under an umbrella at a market stand in order to not be run over by the honking truck coming through the narrow street with a moto squeezing by from the other direction.
This is my neighborhood. These are the people I am wanting to get to know and love.
As we come to the end of the narrow alley it opens up to the ravine. The smell goes from the food cooking to rotting food, trash, and sewage. My stomach does a flip flop as I wonder if I will make it across the stepping stones without falling today. I navigate across the rocks, usually with one foot ending up wet and climb the dirt hill strewn with trash as we make our way to the first stop. As we round the corner I see the now familiar faces of the moms and babies. I check to make sure they are all there by looking at each one and greeting them with a smile and bonjou. The moms are sitting on the ground or a rock or a bucket... some nursing and some holding their sleeping baby. I give out vitamins and then find my little ones to smile at and hold. These babies have no language barrier with me. They smile right back and coo and drool and my heart melts.
Then I hear "ann ale" (let's go) and we are off to the next stop. We take our buckets of food and walk down the paved street with the sun on our backs, cross the ravine by bridge this time and then turn down a path that winds between all the tent homes. Just like the market area, there is food cooking on the outdoor stoves, laundry being done in the big silver tubs, kids sitting naked and playing with whatever is on the ground. It's amazing what they can make into a toy. I continue to smile and greet
as many as I can with a "Bonjou, koman ou ye?" (Good morning, how are you?) and of course the kids come out to touch the blan.
We end at our second and final stop and it's usually already full of people, some in the program and others hoping to get the leftovers when we are done. Other days we sit and wait. They come. One by one and then all at once. Some children are with their moms, some come with their siblings or other relatives but they all come with their bowls for us to fill with food. Some stay for conversation and
some go on their way. The Creole can be overwhelming but each day it gets easier... and then I get
overwhelmed again. But I know it will come. I love these people too much not to learn.
As we finish and the crowd dwindles we pack up and weave through the tents back to the main road. Now the sun is full on our faces but our work for the day is done, at least in the ravine.
As we walk back to the school I think about how I get to return to my comforts even if they are modified compared to what I left in Massachusetts. The guys I go out with each day return back to the ravine at the end of the day. That is home. That is their life. They finish in the ravine in the morning, head back to the school to cook for over 400 people, clean and then head back to the ravine. I am amazed at the work ethic of some here. They work so hard for almost nothing. I love these people I work with and I love the people we serve together. It's no wonder why I smile inside and out each day.
No words or pictures can fully describe the ravine and its wonderful people but here is a glimpse.
I turn to see a half naked child reaching their hand out to me with a big smile. I smile back and say bonjou. As I navigate the narrow alleyways leading to the ravine my arms are rubbed, my hair is stroked, and I've given too many high fives and fist pumps to count. I've weaved my way around men pushing wheel barrows, women with heavy water buckets on their heads and tables of various products being sold- anything from flip flops, to fruit and veggies, alcohol, and clothing.
There is music blaring from speakers around each corner, dirty laundry water being splashed onto my feet, and the ladies calling out their prices for the food they are selling. I smell the food cooking on the charcoal as we walk through the markets and then have to jump to the side of the road, ducking under an umbrella at a market stand in order to not be run over by the honking truck coming through the narrow street with a moto squeezing by from the other direction.
This is my neighborhood. These are the people I am wanting to get to know and love.
As we come to the end of the narrow alley it opens up to the ravine. The smell goes from the food cooking to rotting food, trash, and sewage. My stomach does a flip flop as I wonder if I will make it across the stepping stones without falling today. I navigate across the rocks, usually with one foot ending up wet and climb the dirt hill strewn with trash as we make our way to the first stop. As we round the corner I see the now familiar faces of the moms and babies. I check to make sure they are all there by looking at each one and greeting them with a smile and bonjou. The moms are sitting on the ground or a rock or a bucket... some nursing and some holding their sleeping baby. I give out vitamins and then find my little ones to smile at and hold. These babies have no language barrier with me. They smile right back and coo and drool and my heart melts.
Then I hear "ann ale" (let's go) and we are off to the next stop. We take our buckets of food and walk down the paved street with the sun on our backs, cross the ravine by bridge this time and then turn down a path that winds between all the tent homes. Just like the market area, there is food cooking on the outdoor stoves, laundry being done in the big silver tubs, kids sitting naked and playing with whatever is on the ground. It's amazing what they can make into a toy. I continue to smile and greet
as many as I can with a "Bonjou, koman ou ye?" (Good morning, how are you?) and of course the kids come out to touch the blan.
We end at our second and final stop and it's usually already full of people, some in the program and others hoping to get the leftovers when we are done. Other days we sit and wait. They come. One by one and then all at once. Some children are with their moms, some come with their siblings or other relatives but they all come with their bowls for us to fill with food. Some stay for conversation and
some go on their way. The Creole can be overwhelming but each day it gets easier... and then I get
overwhelmed again. But I know it will come. I love these people too much not to learn.
As we finish and the crowd dwindles we pack up and weave through the tents back to the main road. Now the sun is full on our faces but our work for the day is done, at least in the ravine.
As we walk back to the school I think about how I get to return to my comforts even if they are modified compared to what I left in Massachusetts. The guys I go out with each day return back to the ravine at the end of the day. That is home. That is their life. They finish in the ravine in the morning, head back to the school to cook for over 400 people, clean and then head back to the ravine. I am amazed at the work ethic of some here. They work so hard for almost nothing. I love these people I work with and I love the people we serve together. It's no wonder why I smile inside and out each day.
No words or pictures can fully describe the ravine and its wonderful people but here is a glimpse.
 |
| The ravine: walking between first and second stops |
 |
| Giving out manba (peanut butter), soup and vitamins |
 |
| The "baby feeders", Jean Elie, Wisnal and Jude, with the buckets of food. |
 |
| Heading back across the ravine |
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