Immanuel

"Therefore the LORD himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel."

Isaiah 7:14 is a verse we hear every year during the Advent season, and it is a verse many may overlook because it is so familiar.  The name Imanu'el in Hebrew means "God with us."  That name is a name that can really make you pause.  God is with us.  And not just that- God came to be with us in the tiny baby Mary gave birth to in the stable in Bethlehem.  God could have come through any means and He chose perhaps the most vulnerable form- a baby born poor in a small town.

WAIT.  Take a moment to let that sink in.  We are talking about GOD here- the God who can shake the earth and carve out mountains and stitch together matter to form anything He wants.  He can come to us in any form, through any series of flashy miracles that would strike awe in the hearts of every man instantly.  Instead, He chose to come on what looked like an ordinary night in an ordinary small town to what looked like a pair of ordinary people as a baby who looked like any ordinary baby.  And perhaps the way He chose is the most awe-inspiring way of all.

C.S. Lewis writes in his book Miracles, that the greatest miracle of Christianity is the Incarnation- God becoming man.  David Platt, in his sermon series on the book of Matthew points out that if the Incarnation is true- that Jesus is fully man and fully God, then all other miracles in the Gospel make complete sense.  It is not that Jesus Christ rose from the dead that should astound us, it is that Jesus Christ, God Himself, could die in the first place.  When speaking about Jesus to a group of Muslims, Platt talks about when he proposed to his wife.  He asks the men if he should have sent a friend to ask her to marry Platt rather than ask her himself.  Of course the men agreed that that "in matters of love, it is better to go yourself."  Platt draws the connection to the Incarnation: God sent His Son- God sent God Himself- to become man to save the lost.  In matters of love, in the greatest matter of the greatest love, God knew He alone could go and save us all.  The Incarnation, the birth of Immanuel, God with us- it is the beginning of the center of God's love story.

Isaiah told of God's promise of Immanuel about seven hundred years before the birth of Christ.  God's people waited.  The birth of Jesus, the Christmas story, is a story of a promise fulfilled.  I sometimes imagine what it would be like to be one of those shepherds that night- doing my job like I did every other night- only moments before the greatest miracle of the world was about to take place.  Ordinary nobodies, startled by an angel and the first Christmas carol, learned that the wait was over... God is faithful and has kept the promise He made.  God chose those shepherds- men whom we do not know their name or story- to be among the first to worship and adore God in the flesh.

Magi later followed to bring gifts fit for a king to a baby in a smelly stable.  My mind flashes to the smelly places in Haiti and the dirty babies in rags- I can't imagine the first Christmas looked much different and the thought of richly dressed Magi of great wealth and education traveling to Haiti to see one of those dirty babies with gold, frankincense, and myrrh seems CRAZY.  I think about how the children in the mountain village of Zoranje  looked with curiosity and amazement at the two American dollars we handed them for 11 avocados and think about how shocking the gifts the Magi brought to a poor baby boy and his working class parents must have seemed.

But this is all a part of the miracle- the miracle that defies all logic and turns the world upside down.  And if God humbled Himself in such a way, how much more are we called to humility.  God did not consider himself too great or too powerful or too wise or too holy to come to us yet he is great beyond all measure, all-powerful, wise beyond all understanding, and the Holy One.  So we learn from Immanuel, God with us, that we must go where He goes and love whom he loves and become the humble servant of all.   In Philippians Chapter 2, we are called to have the same mind as Christ in our relationships with one another, Christ, "who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." (verses 6-8)

This is THE Christmas Gift,  THE Christmas miracle. God becoming man out of His great love for us.   
Oh come let us adore Him.

Describe Your Ideal Day...

I attended a young adult bible study for the first time tonight.  The opening question asked us to describe what our ideal/perfect/best day would be like.  So being the daydreamer that I am, I start imagining and creating a picture in my head.  As I am overwhelmed by the crafting of this imaginary day, people around me begin to share their ideas.  Some talked about warm and mild weather, others talked about not having work, and still others talked about spending time with their family.  Although all of those ideas sounded good to me, I couldn't help but be struck by how average they were.  The days they described were typical to every other Saturday in summertime for many people.  Inside I was screaming- WHAT?  This is your best day EVER???  Part of me appreciated the simplicity of it, but still I cried out for the imaginations that were clearly laying in catatonic stupor inside their brains.  The discussion did not mean much, I know, but it revealed something important to me.  We are content and comfortable with the ordinary.  We are lulled into a comfort with what is normal, mediocre, and familiar.  We aspire to nothing more than a slightly above average life.

So what?  So, desiring a simple life is good, right?  In some ways, yes, but as Christians we believe that there is a God who exists who is anything but ordinary.  A God so creative, that the intricacies of His creation are mind-blowing.  He is the God who crafted the universe down to every little microscopic spec and the God who encounters us personally and knows us intimately.  Peel back the cover of "ordinary" life and there is an entire spiritual world behind everything.  We believe in a God of great miracles and of unspeakable glory, and His desire is that we know Him- that we witness His supernatural presence in our lives everyday and that we ask Him for the desires of our hearts.  AND all we want is a hum drum life of a constant 70 degrees Farenheit and a day off of work? WHAT?  We need to desire the extraordinary- we need to desire to see God and see His glory and work for His kingdom.  We need to desire adventure and the risk of living for Him and seeing the great victories of the King of kings.

I cannot even imagine the details of my ideal day because my ideal day would be beyond my imagination because God would totally amaze me with the events that would take place.  I picture that day beginning in Haiti- before sunrise and I wouldn't feel tired in the slightest.  It would still be dark and I would begin it with the lover of my soul- Jesus Christ and the Word of God would be alive in my hand.  God would speak great mysteries and messages to my heart, and I would have little idea that those very promises would be accomplished in that day.  I would cry and laugh with joy at the way in which my God would speak to me, in the way in which He knows me.  The sun would rise over the mountains sending color through every cloud.  And my ideal day would begin.

My day would contain so much laughter that my sides would almost burst by the end.  The kind of laughter that is so full of joy and so uncontrollable- that spreads more easily than an epidemic.
My day would contain all the people I love and they would know in that day how much God loves them- and that love would transform their lives.
During that day, I would witness God's glory in a way I never had before, in a way that we would not be able to contain our shouts and singing and dancing in praise of who He is and what He has done.  His works would bring hope to the poor.  If in that day I must suffer so that God might be more fully revealed, then so be it.  The Holy Spirit would fill us to the brim that we would have no need for food or sleep and would not grow weary of loving and laughing and working for His purpose.
There would be many children, white smiles in dark faces and none of them would be hungry or in pain.
There would be so much dancing and music and a cool breeze from a turquoise blue sea.
The day would end with rolling thunder and an incredible and terrifying lightning storm with lines of lightning etching across the entire black sky.  The clouds would open in a downpour and everyone would dance on the roof and splash in the puddles and marvel at the power and beauty of God in His creation.  And there would be a man- my best friend and the one God had chosen to share in this story God is writing with my life- one who loves me more than his own life who would take hold of me and kiss me in that rain a good long while and laugh and rejoice with me at the wondrous day our God has made.

I can be content with the ordinary, but I hunger for the extraordinary. Why not?  My desire and imagination are gifts from Him after all.  I am made in the image of the Creator who dreams and crafts and plans beyond the wildest imagination.  So, be joyful in all circumstances but thirst for God Himself.  Dream up the greatest day imaginable, and God will show you his dreams are greater and even more marvelous than anything we can think of.


Show us Your glory.

The Body of Christ

Anyone who knows me knows how much I adore my family.  God has truly surrounded me with a loyal and loving family, and they have been such a huge blessing in my life.  God has shown me, especially over this past summer, that my family extends far past my family tree, and He reminded me of this truth this weekend.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is told his mother and brothers are waiting to speak to Him and he replies with a question: "Who is my mother and who are my brothers?" (Matthew 12:48)  He then points to His disciples saying: "For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother." (Matthew 12:50)  This establishes a different kind of family- one perhaps not recognized by the world but clearly recognized by Christ.

This weekend, I had the pleasure of spending time with my Christian brothers and sisters in the Chicago area whom I had met in Haiti and spent a week serving and praying and spending time with.  As I sat at my friend Deedee's kitchen table, I marveled at the fact that I had only known the people around me for a week, but I felt like I was home, and I knew they were my family.  This truth can only lead me to praise Jesus Christ as we are all one in His body and also to worship the Holy Spirit for dwelling within us and bringing us together in unity.  As I realize how much love fills my heart for these people, I know that this is only another small part of God's great love story.

A Thousand Dark Faces

Wednesday night I was afraid to go to sleep.  Afraid that I would wake up and realize it had all been a dream.  A dream of a thousand dark faces with a thousand white smiles.  A dream of small hands slipping into mine- black in white, white in black.  A dream of low, fast drumbeats and melodic voices.  A dream of layers of mountains and turquoise blue water and red flowers sprayed across tree tops.  A dream of blinking in bright sunlight and dancing in downpours.

But I woke up and realized it was not a dream, but that it was more real than anything I have ever known- a place where joy and faith and sorrow and hope exist in raw form, all at once, in tension and communion with one another.  No escape or sedation.  Just pure hunger- for food and for love and for God and for justice.  And I pray that I will never forget.

Last Night of the Best Summer

I have not written anything in awhile because I have been too busy living and loving and praying with the beautiful people of Haiti.  Tonight is my last night in Haiti.  I went to church tonight despite the tropical downpour with hopes of seeing the friends who said they would meet me there.  Some came despite the rain, and Gismene and Kelidha showed up with T-shirts on which they had written in marker "I love Erica for every day."  We couldn't stop laughing and exchanging bits of Kreyol and English and singing songs to the God who brought us together.  This is what life is about- loving, laughing, crying, praising God, and above all, yearning for Jesus to return and make heaven and earth new.  This week, God revealed to me once again how raw and heartbreaking poverty is, and in those moments, I wanted Jesus to come more than I had ever wanted before.  It was a glimpse of what is in the cries and faces of the people praying all around me, and I realized we can never grow close to God if we are content with the world.  When we are not hoping for Christ to transform this earth and end its suffering, then we are not serving in love those people who are suffering.

In the Shelter of Eachother

A Jars of Clay song declares that "In the shelter of each other, we will live."  It is easy to think about the idea of shelter in a third world country.  Haiti is still full of tent cities, with displaced families living under tarps and makeshift shelters for over a year and a half.  But I can't help but think about the lyrics of the song, thinking of ourselves as the shelter for one another.  One lesson that Haiti is teaching me is the lesson of community, the idea of people providing support, protection, and love for one another.  In villages where the physical shelter may be lacking, people spend the majority of time outside their homes with each other.  The village becomes a tight-knit community, one that protects its own, looks out for one another, like an extended family.  This community has learned what it means to be a shelter.  As Christians, the idea of shelter extends past the borders of a village.  We are all part of the body of Christ, and the world will know Christ through our unity and through our love.  If we are a shelter for one another, uniting and building each other up with love, the world will come to know Jesus in us and know the transformation that comes through Christ.

Last week I traveled with a team from Hill Country Bible Church of Austin Texas to a village called Zoranje. There is a small church in the village with a few classrooms attached to it. This church and school, under the leadership of Pastor Andre, partner with Mission of Hope and are part of the Haiti One network. Haiti One is a program created by Mission of Hope to unite all organizations that seek the transformation of lives in Haiti. The vision of Haiti One is recognizing that all of these organizations are working toward the same goal regardless of location or denomination, and we should all share information, resources, and strategies that will enable us to serve the people most effectively.

To reach the village of Zoranje, we must drive up a steep and winding dirt road over the mountain in a canter. As we made our way up the road, we passed by groups of women traveling to the market. Some traveled on foot, their fruit or vegetables in bundles on their heads. Others traveled on pack mules with basket saddlebags. They wore more traditional clothing that what we typically see in the villages along Route Nationale. Women covered their heads and wore long skirts and dresses. They seemed startled to see the group of “blan” (white people) traveling that road.

On the other side of the mountain, the road to the village was steeper and narrower. Children began to follow the canters. I noticed that the land here was beautiful and more lush, yielding crops for the farmers. Houses were almost exclusively made from stone and mud with thatch roofs rather than the corrugated tin and cinder block homes we are so accustomed to in the Titanyen area. Some of our group went into the school to paint the classrooms, while the rest of us walked in three smaller groups through the village. We met people along the way, spoke with families, played with children, and shared God's message and love.

When we passed by one house, a woman beckoned for us to come into her yard. She quickly began to arrange the handmade wooden chairs to face her front porch and sent her daughters to fetch a few more from neighbors until every American had a seat at her house. In the side yard, a pot boiled over a fire while chickens pecked at the ground. The woman's name is Marie, and she introduced us to her husband and eight children. She told us how much she loved God and proudly produced the family's Bible from inside her home. I told her that all of us were family because we all loved the same Jesus. This was not unusual, and we were received with similar joy and hospitality from others in the village.  Below is a photo of me with Marie and a few of her children.

We met an elderly woman along the road and gave her a bag of soap and shampoo. Before even accepting the gift, she began praising God and thanking Him for sending us. The leader of our group, who could not understand a bit of the woman's Creole, said, “Ask her if she knows Jesus.” I looked into the wrinkled face of the woman, which was now turned toward the heavens, and laughed, saying, “I would say so, she is praising Him right now.” She embraced us all, promising over and over again that she would pray for us.

I have been here long enough to almost forget that this sort of thing is not normal where I come from- to spend time just talking to strangers, to hug them, to share a genuine love with one another without being able to understand more than a few words. It is a reminder that indeed, relationships are more important than what we produce. In his ministry, Christ spent most of his time forming relationships with people, sharing his life with them. It is through these connections that we are able to truly share His love. Relationships, modeled on Christ's relationship with us, are what will shape us, what will change us, and what will challenge us.

Heaven Will Be a Dance Party

One of my favorite nights at Mission of Hope is Tuesday night because Tuesday night is the weekly worship service at the church. Okay, I know that might sound strange that of all the things I could love about Haiti that I would love going to church, especially if most of the service is in a language I barely understand. Most people I know at home think church is boring, and to be honest, a lot of times I think church is boring, but I recognize that is really our own fault. Especially if you are like me, and you sing at the top of your lungs at a concert or in your car- you sing songs about falling in love and about summer's freedom and about how Billie Jean is not your lover. Because if I can sing and dance with joy about things like that, and I am bored at church, well, I must be forgetting who God is and what He has done for me.

Haiti doesn't forget who God is. Haiti does not forget the houses that fell and the heaps of bodies that filled the mass grave in this very village. The survivors do not forget that God spared them, and they are grateful for their lives. A man named Rob came this week with his two daughters from Texas. He had not been to Mission of Hope since he came with a medical team two weeks after the earthquake, and he told us about how the patients begged to be taken on stretchers to church so that they could sing praises to God. People who were dying. People who were losing limbs. People who had lost everything. It's sad how we who have been given so much have a hard time praising the God who has blessed us. It's tragic really and almost too ridiculous- that we find it easier to sing about beer and kissing and ladies with fat butts than to sing about Jesus.

Back to my story about Tuesdays... Simply put, Tuesday night at church is a joyous dance party in the name of Jesus. There is singing and praying and crying and dancing, but all I know is: it is real. Real pain. Real joy. Real love. Real life. And there are few places where I have felt closer to heaven. Sometimes I look around and think about the lives of the people here- the poverty, the memories of last January, the illness, the death, and the filthy, hungry babies with bloated bellies, and I grieve for them. On August 17, I will board a plane and return to my comfortable life, but they will not. I can change the channel, they cannot. This is their life, and it is real. But I think about how their pain has brought them to the cross of Christ- closer than I might ever be. They know Jesus like I have never known Him. They sing His praises with a depth from which I have never sung praises. I think about how I will return to a world where people tense up a little when they hear someone say the name of Jesus and where people roll their eyes about going to church and where we surround ourselves with our comfortable things and our pleasure-filled lives and convince ourselves we do not need Him. And that is when I grieve for us.

In his book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Donald Miller writes about overlooking Machu Pichu after climbing the intense Inca trail. He describes the elation of arriving: “The pain made the story more beautiful. The story made us different characters than if we'd showed up at the ending an easier way. It made me think about the hard lives so many people have had, the sacrifices they've endured, and how those people will see heaven differently from those of us who have had easier lives.”

So this is why I love Tuesday nights--- Because for a few hours I can see heaven more clearly through the eyes of those who have seen true suffering. I have caught a glimpse, and I can tell you it is beautiful.

Thunderstorms

If you know me, then you know that I love sunshine. Yeah, I know. It's not an uncommon love. Most people probably say that they love sunshine, but I crave sunshine like an addict. When I take a walk, I walk on the sunny side of the street. When I choose a place to sit outside, I choose a chair in the sun. I even linger in front of the windows at work. I relish that little bit of sunshine shining in a car window or casting shapes on a hardwood floor. Therefore, you can imagine that the abundant (some might even say excessive) sunshine in Haiti is like my dream come true.

Although I love that every day this summer has been sunny, here in Haiti, I equally love the rain. Rain in Haiti is a fantastic display of God's power and a rejuvenation to the dry and dusty earth. This week, we had a fantastic rainstorm- the best since I have been here. As we walked up the dark hill from Tuesday night's church service, the sky was a lightning show and the rolling thunder got louder and louder. The wind whipped our skirts around our legs and our hair across our faces. Then, without so much as a warning raindrop, the skies opened in a downpour, roaring so loudly on the tin roof over the dining area that you could not hold a conversation without shouting.

Lauren and I decided to climb the ladder to the guys' roof deck. (Lauren is one of the other interns.) Our arms outstretched and faces upward, we let the rain drench us, and then we laughed with excitement when we shivered. We were cold in Haiti. It was pretty much a miracle. We continued to wonder at how beautiful the storm was. We spoke about how infinite and amazing God truly is and how often we forget that his power and love have no limits. We think we understand that God is all-powerful, infinite in love and mercy, and completely sovereign, but we live as though he is not. When lightning lit up the world around us so that it looked like daylight, Lauren and I screamed and grabbed each other in terror and then kept on laughing.

God's power is so clearly displayed in an incredible summer thunderstorm, but we only have to open our eyes to what he is doing everyday all around us. My friend Alyse shared the following verse with me this week:

“Look at the nations and watch- and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe even if you were told.” (Habakkuk 1:5)

The truth is that He is changing Haiti, ushering in his Kingdom, transforming individual lives everyday here. He is working and speaking through those He has called to be His hands and feet. We work together- those He has called- Haitian and American, rich and poor, black and white, but as one body united in Christ. And we hear as God tells us to watch, to listen, to wait- to remember that the crying will only last for the night- for he will do great things, unbelievable things before our eyes.

Falling in Love

Gwyneth Paltrow's character in the movie Country Strong gives the following advice: “Don't be afraid to fall in love, It's the only thing that matters in life. Fall in love with as many things as possible.” Indeed, love is truly what life is all about. It is what God created us for. In Haiti, I fall in love everyday, and I hope I never stop falling in love.

I will share one such story. On Saturday, I brought a team to the house of a woman named Sofilia. Sofilia is a middle-aged Haitian woman who attends the church at the mission. Every Saturday, about fifty children from the village of Titanyen cram into Sofilia's tiny dirt yard for a simple children's ministry. They sing songs, play games, and learn about Jesus. Sofilia also distributes clothes and shoes to the children in greatest need. These are shoes and clothes that have been donated to the Mission of Hope. One thing that I love about the vision of MOH is that they want the Haitian church to be the hands and feet of Christ in Haiti, and so we feed the Haitian-led initiatives and ministries that in turn serve the local people.

I took a seat on Sofilia's front stoop and watched our teenage Haitian translator, Jean Marc, leading the children in song. I felt two slender arms wrap around my waist, and looked down to see probably the greatest smile I have seen in my life. That, I know, is a bold claim since this is a country full of countless beautiful smiles, but it was true. I have no doubt that this child had nothing but pure love and joy coming from that smile. A little boy had sidled up next to me and given me a hug, flashing some gorgeous white teeth. His name is Samuel, and he is about four or five years old. We played some games together and made funny faces at each other and exchanged about a dozen hugs.

Then, I decided to ask him about his family. I asked him if he had any brothers, but when he looked confused, I blamed it on my poor Kreyol and asked again. Sofilia stopped me however and told me that Samuel does have brothers, but he does not know them and his mother died so Samuel has been living with Sofilia for one month. Samuel's eyes looked big and round for a moment and his smile shrunk and disappeared. I smiled at him and hugged him, and suddenly that beautiful smile was back. It's hard to describe what an incredible thing it is to fall in love in such a short time, but I could see that Samuel is truly a special gift from God to the world and I paused and said a silent prayer for the people he would touch in his lifetime and a prayer that we would see each other again.

Lessons in God's Providence

Oftentimes, we know what is true and right, but we do not always live as though it were so. For example, I know that life is better when God is in control, but I usually try to steer my own life anyway. This year, God is teaching me the difficult yet beautiful lesson of complete reliance on Him. This lesson is even more intense during the past three weeks in Haiti. Because when I am here, I have to rely on God to renew my strength and energy each day or everything seems to fall apart. At home, I can easily fake the ability to function on my own strength. Here, God is showing me how weak I am in concrete ways. Though he is breaking me down, he is also showing what great things He can accomplish through me when I allow Him to fill me daily with the love and strength He requires from me that day.

This week was a special week in the history of Mission of Hope. For the first time, Mission of Hope ran Vacation Bible School (VBS) on property. Although churches all across the United States host similar programs during the summer, VBS is an idea that is completely new to almost all Haitians in the area. School buses left MOH and picked up kids at the two closest villages: Source Matelas and Titanyen. We were originally told that the children would be between first and sixth grade. Not the case. A couple hundred kids streamed from two crammed school buses- aged one through high school. Each day their number increased. Today, which was the last day of the VBS week, we had well over three hundred children.

Day One was chaotic.

I could feel how unequipped I was for leading my group of volunteers in the Bible Story station, in which we had to somehow capture the attention of a group of 50-70 children at a time for a half hour. To make matters worse, our translator made his frustration with the program known through his words and actions, which only increased the negativity inside of me. I knew that eventually this program would work, but I questioned whether I could survive until then. Still, I knew that I was running on my own strength, and I could see that my translator and others around me were depending on human strength, energy, and patience as well. I could see how inadequate we were for this task, and it sent me literally to my knees that night looking for help from the One who deserves all the glory for this ministry.

I was desperate. I knew that the message of God's love is the cornerstone of the VBS ministry and the key to transforming Haiti. I knew that this ministry belonged to God, and if humans were in control, we would fail entirely. And sure enough, God answered my prayers. God showed up. And it is amazing how beautiful life is when God takes control. Each day got better, and I watched as Haitian kids today got on stage and rapped about Jesus while the crowd of three hundred jumped to their feet cheering and dancing

There are five stations at VBS: bible stories, crafts, sports, community health, and lunch. My favorite day of crafts was tie-dyeing T-shirts. Many of the students wore the shirts to VBS the next day. We were able to give them a new shirt, but unlike just donations of clothes to the poor, the children could also take pride and ownership in creating it. We also found out this week that we will be receiving supplies to give kids important vaccinations through community health. One of the most powerful stations is the meals station because for many of these children, this is their only meal. Toddlers scarf giant plated of rice and beans until not a grain of rice or single bean is left. It is a reminder of what poverty looks like on a daily basis and a reminder of why we are here.  To share God's love with the poor as God changes us and teaches us His hardest lessons.

Independence Day...

This is my first Fourth of July outside of the United States. We wanted to do something special for our Independence Day, so Chris (one of the other interns), Caleb (one of the staff kids), and I took a red bedsheet from the closet, a blue pillowcase, and some white paint and made a giant American flag to hang up in the dining area. At breakfast we followed the usual prayer with the Pledge and at supper we sang the national anthem. Later on in the night we held a staff party that included cake, hot dogs, dancing, and a single firecracker. Being in Haiti has really made me appreciate how blessed I am to be born American, and it was fun to celebrate how much we love and miss our country. Happy Independence Day!

Blessings

This week has been such a true blessing. I led my first team, a group of 15 amazing young adults from Cornerstone Church in Phoenix, Arizona. They approached everyday with enthusiasm, working hard at the projects, making us laugh, sharing their faith, and above all loving the people around them. They did what we are all called to do as Christians- they inspired others to grow closer to Christ and serve one another with joy. I am so grateful that God called them to Haiti this week. I also got to know a group from Chicago made up of high school and college students as well as adult leaders. Most of the group was younger than me, but their genuine faith and energy has taught me so much this week. God has great plans for all of them.

There were more great things about this week. Yesterday, our intern coordinator planned a special trip for the interns. We visited Petion-ville in Port-au-Prince, which is the wealthy part of town. We drove up to a cliff overlooking the city and beyond, and we could even see Mission of Hope. Then, we feasted on pizza and cheeseburgers at a restaurant called Muncheez, and finished our day visiting the largest supermarket in Haiti called Giant, which contains one of the two operating elevators in the country. This trip reminded me of the poverty of Haiti because we were so excited about some little things that are everywhere in our home country. Such things as a real toilet, toilet paper, and soap in a restaurant bathroom. Or a supermarket, air conditioning, and an elevator. A cold drink with ice. Pepperoni pizza.

Although we were excited to live like the rich for a day, the city is still shadowed by the image of the earthquake. Port-au-Prince is still in ruins from the earthquake, which is a reminder that the pain of that tragedy is still fresh in the minds of the Haitian people. Even the palace looks as if it has not been touched, and I cannot imagine what it would be like to see the White House broken for nearly a year and a half. The rubble remains as a reminder of all the loved ones lost and buried in unmarked mass graves. It is enough to compel us to pray for Christ's healing and transformation of this nation.

Banana Leaves

Today I spent the whole day at the new property in Bersi with two teams. Working at Bersi is one of my favorite parts of being here because it is so beautiful and holds so much hope. The 55 acre plot of land is right on the ocean and some of the plans for the property include an agriculture school, farmland, a conference center to train Haitian teachers and pastors, an elementary school, an orphanage, a church, and a home for the elderly. The Bersi property was given to Mission of Hope by the Haitian government so that Mission of Hope would not turn the Grace House in Cabaret into a permanent home for the elderly. Instead, Mission of Hope will build the Grace House at Bersi so that the elderly can help take care of the orphans, and the orphans can bring the elderly joy. As Christians we have a special calling to take care of orphans and widows, and Mission of Hope is also having them take care of each other.

Today, we spent the morning in the village, singing songs, telling Bible stories, and showing lots of love to the children and people of the village. The second half of the day, we began our work. There were three jobs to be done. The first was building the tin roof on one of the school buildings. The second was clearing the land with machetes, and the third was collecting dead banana leaves that will be turned into a mulch for the farmland. Tiny is the man directing the projects, and he is always seeking ways in which the people can use what God has already placed on the land in order to improve farming.

I was blessed with heading the ladies in banana leaf gathering. We carried armloads of banana leaves from the groves to a large pile on the open land. Some Haitians came to help, and it was such a blessing to work alongside each other. My friend Kristela, a teenager from the village, stayed with me the entire time. We sang together and talked a little and found ways to show how much we cared about one another without words. It is simple work, but little by little the property will be transformed into fertile farmland that will create many jobs and provide food for the people. We are given the opportunity to work together in Jesus' name so that we all understand that it is God who blesses this place, and it is God who is providing for these people. I am so grateful that God has brought me to Haiti, and although I am unworthy of the task, He is giving me a part to play in His great plan.

Two Coins

Today, as I walked into church, I was surprised to feel a small hand slip into my own. I looked down to see a familiar face, an eight-year-old girl named Jefta that I met in the village of Simonette this week. I had almost forgotten that she had told me she would be at church on Sunday. It took me a moment to recognize her because instead of the dirty clothes, she wore a shimmery orange dress, one that had probably seen a couple Easters or weddings in America before making its way to Haiti. It looked worn, the fabric roses at her waist were a bit frayed, but I could tell she felt beautiful in her Sunday clothes. As we made our way to our seats, I asked where her family was. Her mother was home sick, and the rest of her family was in the village. She had come to church with people from her village because she had told me she would. I am learning in Haiti that oftentimes when people are materially poor, they are rich in that which matters most. Keeping your word in Haiti is a sign of integrity, and it is not taken for granted. So Jefta found a way to come to church because she had told me she would, and friends keep their word.

Jefta and I sat together in church, hand-in-hand, having a limited conversation with the little Kreyol I know. She proudly produced two small gourdes in the palm of her hand. Gourdes are Haitian coins, and the two of them amounted to about one American nickel. She played with the coins in her hand telling me how they were for the church collection. She squeezed my arm when they began to pass the basket around, excited to give her small amount.

I couldn't help but think of the story found in Mark chapter 12, the tale of the widow who gave her two coins, all that she had to the offering, and Jesus praised her for giving more than all the others. It humbled me and made me think about my own offering. Do I give all that I have to God? Upon examining my life, I would say I have much more to give. We oftentimes protect ourselves, giving just a little of ourselves and our resources so that we won't burn out. We say we have to take care of ourselves too, that we cannot give all our energy, time, and love to others. Is that our calling? Self preservation? In the world's eyes, it might be, but we do not belong to this world.  

Christ calls us to give all of ourselves, to lay down our life as He did. God will take care of us like He takes care of the grass of the field and the tiniest sparrow. Yes, we need to spend time alone with God, but we should still pour ourselves out completely every single day and rely on him to fill us once again. We should love God and His people like it is the last day we have to love them. We should live our lives in such a way that without continual reliance on God's strength, we will fail.

It brought me to tears to see God's Word embodied in this beautiful little girl. God chooses the weak to shame the strong, the poor to shame the rich, the child to shame me. I pray everyday for God to break me, that I will decrease so that He may increase. That in this jar of clay, others may see the treasure- the promise of life that Christ gives us.

The King for All Nations

Exactly three weeks after I watched my students graduate from high school in America, I find myself sitting in a church in Haiti watching 139 students graduate from the School of Hope. I cannot help but compare the two events. At home, I work at the Landmark School, a high school for students with language based learning disabilities such as dyslexia. For my students, school was a struggle for many years, and their success at graduation is truly an accomplishment to be proud of. This year, 100% of Landmark seniors are going onto college. Many of these students thought that they would never be able to attend college. The ceremony was a celebration of triumph and of hope.

Sitting under the tin roof of the Church of Hope does not feel much different from the graduation tent. This ceremony is also one of triumph. Almost all of the graduates have parents who did not attend school or did not finish. Most parents cannot read at all. In an area of Haiti where only twenty percent of children attend school, graduating from high school can seem like an impossible dream. The excitement of the graduates was something palpable. I look at the beautiful faces of the Class of 2011 as they sing their song about being the future of Haiti, and I think about how the school that started in 1998. Vanessa Johnson tried teaching 230 students that were so malnourished that they were passing out during class. Now, the school has transformed into one of the best schools in the country, training the future leaders of Haiti. This miracle could not have been done without the hand of God, and in my heart I give thanks and praise for the love He is showing His people.

A guest singer is called to the podium, and she sings the words “Jezi se wa pou tout nacion,” which means Jesus is the king for all nations. As I think about the work he is doing in my students and school at home and the work that he is doing in these students and school in Haiti, I know these words are true. He is redeeming all nations, and to all people he declares, “For I know the plans I have for you... plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11) I believe that the young men and women receiving their medals and diplomas today are the hope and future that God promises this beautiful country.

There's Always Fruit on the Cake

Its Tuesday night and I just got back from a church service. It is a beautiful summer night in Haiti with a strong cool breeze that is so refreshing after another hot and humid day. I love nights in Haiti.

Everything is going great here.  I am shadowing the other interns for this week and so far I have gotten to go to the villages and orphanages around the mission as well as the new Mission of Hope property in Bersi which is right on the ocean. The groups minister to the people especially the children- playing games, hugging babies, and praying for people who are sick.  Today I gave some First Aid to a little boy named Maurice with open sores all over his body. Yesterday I brought a few photos that I took of village kids from Bersi last year and they got such a kick out of it. I am pretty sure they have never seen an actual photo of themselves. They passed it around to everyone who had come from the village and it made them all laugh...

A man named Tiny arrived yesterday. He is a white man from South Africa, and unlike his name, he is huge. He is also the most incredible man I have ever met. He has lived his entire life serving the poorest of the poor as well as breeding endangered animals in Africa and combating poachers. He began a program called Farming God's Way, which is completely based on what the Bible says about farming, work, and taking care of creation. He is an extremely humble man who has seen people much poorer than the Haitians we work with here. He is working with the Haitian farmers and Mission of Hope to learn the Haitian way of farming while teaching them how to keep the soil rich so that nutrients will not be stripped from the soil after two years of farming. He also believes that the Bible calls us to take care of the widow and the orphan but for the rest of the poor we are supposed to work with them to empower them to work and take care of themselves- restoring their dignity as human beings the way God intended. God has called Tiny to a life that has broken his heart many times but he has a strong faith and all that he does is because he loves Jesus.  He told me today that there is always fruit on the cake, meaning there is always something wonderful and beautiful to his story.  We cried together as he told me about the times he witnessed a poor person in Africa buy his first cow or about the children dying of hunger or even just how much Jesus loves us.

The poverty in Haiti is overwhelming, but like Tiny is teaching me, there is always fruit on the cake.  I can see that in the beautiful people of Haiti, their love for each other, for us, and for God.  Their faith and utter dependence on God reminds me of how spiritually poor I am.  They are the ones who have what is more precious than gold, and I have much to learn.

Bon Vwayaj

My family threw a fantastic surprise going away party for me last night. I am so blessed to have so many good people in my life and so grateful for their love, prayers, and support.  God has given me so much love and I hope I can share that love with all the people I meet in Haiti.



This is the beautiful card my Auntie Sue made me.

First Dose

First dose of malaria medication. 

This marks one week until my feet land on Haitian soil, and I can't help thinking about my first trip to Haiti two years ago.  

I had seen a lot of photographs and heard a lot of stories, but nothing can prepare you for what it is actually like to drive down the crowded streets of Port au Prince, walk through a village on a market day, or praise Jesus alongside the poorest of the poor.  It broke my heart, challenged my comfortable life and lukewarm faith, humbled me to my knees, but most of all- it sent me head over heels in love with a country and a people so beautiful.

Ever been in love?  If yes, you know what it's like.  Every day since that first trip in April 2009, I have thought about Haiti.  Every single day.  At times, my heart aches so much to be there.  And now, with only a week until my adventure begins, I can scarcely concentrate on anything else.

I only pray that God will work through me because I can do nothing apart from Him.  He is changing Haiti, healing Haiti, restoring Haiti through the hands of ordinary people.  I am unworthy to be one of those people, but amazed and grateful that nevertheless, God has chosen me to be a part of His great plan.

To God be all the glory.