HAITI

We arrived in Port au Prince to a noisy, hot, crowded airport, and after collecting our luggage, trekked about a quarter mile outside the airport area, with people all around us trying to get our attention and offer their services. Fortunately, our guide had everything already arranged, and there was a small group of Haitians leading us and fending off the others, all quite loudly in Creole.

We boarded a nice, clean, white bus, one of very few we would see. We were from all across America, men and women, from all ages and walks of life, put together for four days and some amazing experiences.

There were groups from two churches, a woman who came on her own, two sisters who traveled together, two nurses, a translator with his own story of being an orphan in Haiti, our driver, and our guides, 21 of us in all. This story is only my own; there are 20 more to be told.

Our amazing driver wove in, through and around all sorts of obstacles, and it was unsettling and even scary, especially at first. There are no lanes, only bigger vehicles and louder horns to determine right of way. "Just don't look" became our mantra.

Other than the roads being clear (aside from pedestrians, vehicles and the occasional chicken), it looked like the earthquake had happened the day before. There were piles of rubble, mounds of trash, children begging at our windows when we stopped. The city of Port au Prince is in various states of distress: buildings that were never finished, buildings that were torn down by the earthquake, tents in the middle of the road, people urinating on the side of the road, goats and pigs walking around. Everything looks as though you are seeing it through a dirty lens.

Most of the time, while driving, we were treated nicely. Children love to wave and smile at you, and many adults will, too, in response to your wave and smile. A few times we were given an ugly gesture, which was very easy to understand. After all, we're a bunch of (mostly) white people, in a nice white bus, with no window tinting, driving around taking pictures. We know our heart as a group is to help and love on the people there, but they don't know our heart.

When we arrived to our "inn," the guarded gate was opened for us and there were children rushing to greet us as we got off the bus. "What is your name?" is their biggest and most-used English phrase. They repeat it, making sure to get it right. If you have a camera on you, they will request "photo, photo," promptly demanding to see it after you take one. They are desperate to touch you: your hair, your face, your arms. They yearn to be hugged. They want to braid your hair like theirs, and giggle at how you look. They break your heart with their palpable need for affection.

We had one hour to spend with them before dinner, not nearly enough time.

Each meal we spent together as a group, dinner and breakfast every day, and every bus ride, and every evening chat in the still, outside air, was a blessing to me. I felt so full of blessing, so many times a day, that it seemed my heart would burst. I cried, and cried, and laughed, and laughed. I laughed more than I have in years. Some in our group were devoted Jesus-followers, and some were, perhaps, a little unsure of how to handle that. I can't speak for everyone's reason to go on this journey, but I can say I know we were brought together for a purpose, and that every person on our team blessed me many times and in many ways.

I was shown patience, and compassion, and love, and courage, and service, and sacrifice, more times than I could recount. Many times, I was shown this by members of the team. Many times I was shown this by the very people we were trying to show the same courtesies. The children did it, the "mamas" did it, the pastors did it, the guides did it. You can't even imagine the bounty of blessings.

In a really, really cool way, God did it. The day the earthquake happened, I was called to go to Haiti. I just knew. I couldn't turn off the coverage, I cried for the people. My heart was broken wide open. I didn't know when or how, but I knew I would go. So when our leader decided to put together a team, I went to the meeting. I had not a penny to spare to go on a trip anywhere. I told my husband about it, and prayed. The next meeting, I went. My husband had just told me he had saved half the money for my trip. This was an amazing feat in the midst of our economic situation. Not only did friends and family members give me the rest of the money, they gave enough to pay back my husband, pay for my shots, and pay for the bracelets I took for the children.

That was more than enough, but He, as He does, did even more. He blessed my husband with prosperity at work while I was away. He blessed me with family and friends to help with my children, with a school family that truly cares about my family, and with prayers from more than I could count.

We settled in our assigned rooms, quickly learning that our room did NOT have working AC. I was being (for me) VERY brave about the whole thing, ready to suck it up and deal with it. Well, "cooler" heads, blessedly, prevailed, and we were moved into the "girls' room" that did have working AC, and I know that it was one of the biggest blessings of all.

The heat there, as a friend who had been there warned me, is a kind of heat you've never felt before. I am a person who sweats, and I have NEVER sweat the way I did in Haiti.

I would have loved to have brought home any of the many orphaned children I was blessed to befriend, but one particular girl, Julie, really captured my heart. She was sitting amongst the other girls, but seemed very sad. I held her, for a long time, with her cheek to my chest, as silent tears streamed down her face. I discovered that her mom had died only a month before, and that she was the newest member of the orphanage. How I longed to take her home with me, and how I wonder, often, if she's being well-cared-for, if she's still so sad, if she is able to experience joy in anything at all.

I feel like I left part of my heart in Haiti. I am ready to go back, and ready to introduce my son Gary to the abundant blessing to be found in international mission work. Would you like to join us?