The Love of a Father

Just the other night, I met a very interesting man named Amon.   He's an older Irish gentleman, who, according to him, was apparently quite the stud back in his day.  Unfortunately, Amon suffered from a stroke about two years back and is still gaining back alot of his sharpness including his speech and small motor movements in his hands.  As I spend some time with Amon, I learn that he has lived a tough life.  Worked hard for anything he had, scrapped by in order to feed the children, lost a child, and because of depression afterwards his wife left him as well.  Amon wears a lot of sadness on his face, but there is one thing that lights him up.... his son Edward.

Amon loves his son Edward so much that just in talking about him his whole face smiles.  He describes Edwards as being "wonderful, special, and especially handsome."  This father did not see a flaw in his son, not one.  He delighted in his son's presence so much that he would rub his hands together and dance like a little child at just the simple thought of it.   Amon's eyes even filled with tears when he recalled the story of his young son looking to him and saying "Papa, I love momma, but I love you the best."  Amon undoubtedly loved his son, and saw him through wonderfully clouded goggles as only a father can... because Edward was his, and he was proud.

In hearing this father's humble adoration for his son, I couldn't help but think of how much our Papa, our heavenly Daddy, loves us.  God sees us as Amon sees Edward! He points down at us and says "you see that one, she's special! that one, she is wonderful! that one, she brings me such joy!"  Like Amon, our Papa gets giddy and lights up at the thought of our presence. Our Papa, just like Amon, he can't stop talking about us; about our achievements, about our beauty, about our perfection.  He, like Amon, soaks up all our words and is waiting for the day when we say "Papa, I love alot of things... but I love you the best!" He sees us through those wonderful eyes of a Father... because we are his, and he too is overwhelmingly proud!

Constraints

I don't think we realize how many constraints we put on ourselves, or have put on us by others just in our everyday life. I'm beginning to believe that God's not really much of a fan of constraints... 

Just the other day, I realized a huge constraint in my life... time. 

If you don't know me well, I am the kind of person that always knows what time it is. In fact, I don't even take my watch off when I go to bed. Not to mention that I have a watch tan line that could compete with just about anyone! I am the kind of person that is always on time. To make it even worse, not only do I always know what time it is... I also tend to "time myself" when doing random tasks. I love having a deadline, I love competing to beat the clock, I love finishing just in time. A little weird, I know. 

So, let me set the stage for you. 

 On the world race, we are not allowed to do much of anything alone. We travel in groups (of 74, at times). We live in groups. We eat in groups. We fellowship in groups. There is always someone that you have to organize your time with in order to get things done. What's even better is that most likely the people you are living with probably will be nothing like you... meaning, just because you are the type of person that likes to be on time, or that likes things to be done quickly and efficiently does not mean that the person next to you feels the same. See where I am going with this?

While the fact that I somewhat ridiculously time oriented is no surprise to me, the fact that I often times let this idea of time consume my day is definitely a new realization. Why is it that little things like being late can sometimes totally ruin my attitude? Why is it that little things like a change in schedule can just throw me off? Why is it that I put such constraints on my life because of time? 

So, one day this week during worship I am really struggling with this idea. I am struggling with the fact that so much of my life is oriented around time. I am struggling with the idea that I probably pass up opportunities every single day because I simply don't have time. 

 Then, in a very gentle whisper I heard my Papa say "Look down at your wrist. See that watch? It's time to take it off." 

I look down at my arm and think, Seriously? My watch? I mean, it's just a watch. Besides, I have to be on time this week... we have a schedule, we have specific meeting times. I need that watch." 

He laughs at me and says "Dear child, you're right, it is just a watch, but it's time to take it off. It's time for you to work under my timing... not your own."

"Okay, so maybe you have a point, God. But, seriously... I will take it off later, I will take it off after service, maybe when we get back to the campsite, yeah maybe then... then I will have some place safe to put it."

"Child... just trust me. Right now, this very moment, let go of that constraint...it's time." (Don't you just love how God uses your own words against you?) 

So, in dramatic fashion, of course... with a huge sigh of defeat, I reach down to my left wrist... slowly unbuckle my watch, and drop it to the floor... 

My watch tan still there. And, I still constantly pull up my left sleeve out of habit. But, for now the watch is packed safely away. For now, I am living under God's timing and I challenge you to do the same thing. Spend the week without having any concept of time. It will drive you crazy, it will stress you out, but it will also give you such freedom. Freedom to work under God's timing... because you never know what opportunity he might place in front of you that you think you just don't have time for.

Perspective

About a week ago we got the opportunity to spend some time in the downtown area of Port-au-Prince.  Despite that we have been here for almost a month, we have not seen much outside of the house and the church so spending a day in the city was a pretty big deal.  The sights that I saw peering through the back bars of the box truck were sights of poverty, and of devastation, and of a third world country stricken by confusion and chaos.  

As I sat and took all of this in, my mind wondered as to how I could pray for this country.   What was God's vision for this place?  What was his plan for Haiti?  Having an American perspective on life, my mind first went to success.  I wanted to pray for Haiti to become successful, to become self-sufficient.  I wanted Haiti to have nice streets, to have clean water, to have unbroken buildings, and to have luxuries.  

It was in that moment that I realized that I was praying for Haiti to become like America.  

Just as that thought struck me, I was reminded of the fact that success is not defined by material things.  Success is not defined by how large, or how clean, or how modern a place is, not by Godly standards anyway.  It was in the moment that God reminded me that I look at things with such clouded vision.  That my prayer for this place should not be that it grows into a huge metropolis, but that it grows into a country that bleeds for the Lord.  What was even more heart wrenching is that God reminded me that this third world country, stricken heavily by devastation, is more likely to turn wholly towards him that my very own America.

God's vision for Haiti is not ever for it to become like the United States.  God's vision for Haiti is that is becomes a country that lives, breathes, and serves a living father despite the hurt and devastation that surrounds it.  God's vision is for this country to rise above the rubble, to be a country that overcomes, to be a country that is alive again.  God's vision for Haiti is nothing like my vision for Haiti... but I am beginning to realize that is probably a very good thing!

Haitian School Teacher

One of the greatest things about the world race is that you can never have any kind of expectations... 

 I am officially a Haitian School Teacher. Definitely didn't see that one coming! :) 

So, how did this happen you may ask? Well.. let me just tell you. Initially my team was to spend this month of ministry living in an orphanage and working on a restoration home that is to open sometime during the month of September. However, because of some issues with finding the right location for this home, my team has spent the past two weeks being challenged to use our own gifts and abilities to help out in different ways around the orphanage. For instance, my teammate Emily, who has a degree in occupational therapy, has been spending the working with special needs kids at the orphanage. Another teammate of mine, Alicia, has a degree is social work and has been helping with assessment and paperwork as new kids come to the Home. And I, well... I volunteered to help out at the school, of course! 

Initially when I volunteered to do this, I figured that I could do some one on one tutoring, right? Maybe help some kids that were a little behind, or just give the teacher some assistance in the classroom. I was also very much willing to organize supplies, books, just whatever needed to be done to be helpful. 

So, I arrive to school Monday morning with the kids, introduce myself to the two teachers, and explain that I have a background in education and want to be able to just help out for the next couple of weeks in whatever way they need me to. The teacher looks at me and says "well, you can teach the class, if you'd like." My first thought went straight to "what in the world have I gotten myself into?" I tried to politely explain that I didn't think I was qualified to teach a variety of subjects to Haitian students, many of which only speak a little English. Again, they insisted that I teach the class... that being educated in America, I was much more qualified than they were to be teaching these kids, and they as teachers, could possibly learn some new things. Again, "what have I gotten myself into?" I finally ask if maybe I could just observe for the first day, seeing as though I had absolutely nothing prepared to teach that day, nor did I have any idea at what level these kids were at, or what they were learning! They agreed, I could observe the first day and start teaching the next. 

As I got back to the house that afternoon, thoughts swarmed my head. What can I do to get myself out of this? Sure I have a degree in education, sure I can help teach some English, but I am not in any way qualified to teach these kids all different subjects in a language they don't all understand. Surely I can find something else to do as my ministry this month, right? I'll spend some extra time in the nursery, maybe help out the nannies downstairs. Then God chimed in... "you, my child, are going back to that school tomorrow, you have a ministry there, don't ignore that." Alright, fine, I'll go.

 Later that night I spent some time talking with Mrs. Chris (our ministry contact) about the school situation and how I could best be helpful there. She informed me that there were actually about 4 kids in one of the classrooms that, despite the fact that they are 9 & 10 years old, they have never been in school before. There is no such thing as free education in Haiti, and therefore while the kids are required to go to school, many don't simply because of the fact that they can't afford to do so. These kids needed to learn the basics, they needed to be taken back down to preschool level, they needed to start from scratch... now, that I could do!

So, day 2, I pack my busted up plastic grocery bag with books, crayons, scissors, and prizes and I make the hike to school. It's on that day that I officially became a Haitian school teacher. I now have my own classroom, I have four beautiful students ages 9-11(none of which speak a bit of English), and we spend 3 hours every morning learning our ABC's, numbers, colors, and animals. We sing, we color, we cut, we pray... but most of all, we learn. They spend time learning the basics about English while I spend time learning the basics of obeying God's call, of embracing a situation even when it seems overwhelming, of letting go of expectations. 

So that, my friends... is how I became a Haitian school teacher, for this month anyway. Pretty sure this one is a must for the resume. :)

Resilience

I cannot even begin to describe how much joy there is here at this home in Haiti.  Each and everyday I am greeted by the sounds of young voices singing, praising, and just living life as happy children.  These children here are beautiful, they are loving, and they are respectful beyond belief.  

At first glance, you would never believe that one of the 13 year old girls here was raised under voodoo influence and was forced to drink human blood during rituals from the time she was 7.  

At first glance, you would never believe that one of the 11 year old girls here was recently raped while living in a tent community and was subjected to humiliation as all the people around her refused to take care of her. 

 At first glance, you would never believe that one of the 9 year old girls here was raised as a child slave and wears scars that outwardly show years of abuse.  She ran away not solely because of the abuse but because she desired so badly to live somewhere where she would be allowed to go to school.

At first glance, you would never believe that one of the beautiful babies here was found laying in a dumpster with rats eating at her skin all while simply trying to survive.

I am continually amazed at the resilience of children... at their ability to forgive and to adapt.  These children are able to handle things in life that would devastate most adults and not only make it through, but also be completely joyful in the process.

Each child here has a story, one of devastation but also one of victory.  Each of these beautiful children were handed circumstances that were not in their favor, and yet they survived, they overcame, and they remain joyful, loving, and thankful in spite of what they have been through.  There is no doubt in my mind that we could all learn a thing or two from these wonderful kiddos!

Undescribable

As I sat down at the house last night, with the intentions of typing up a new blog I couldn't help but become completely overwhelmed.  How in the world am I supposed to be able to capture in words all the things I saw just in this short time period of a week?  How can you really portray to people the relationships you develop, the heartache you feel, or the abounding love and hospitality that is shown each and every day from the people in the world who have the least?  

This week, I met a one month old premature baby named Valerie whose 18 year old mother abandoned her and she is so malnourished that she barely weighs 2 pounds... and yet she is surviving in one of the dirtiest, poorest places in the world only through the love of God, the power of prayers, and the unselfishness of a wonderful women within the community who has agreed to love her as her own.

This week my heart was broken by a 13 year old boy named Francis who needs attention so badly that he resorts to treating women in the community with a huge amount of disrespect.  What's even more disheartening is that he is encouraged by the men in his community to do so.  

This week, I held a mother's hand as we prayed over her 3 year old son who spends most of his time being terribly sick.  This child, Wilme had to have colostomy surgery at a young age and needs to be taken to the capital (which is about 4 hours away) every couple of months to receive medical treatment.  If you met this kid, you would never guess he spent more of his days being sick... joy radiates from him... and its through his sickness that his mother, Tika, came to Christ.

This week, I sat on the sidewalk with a man named Migueso who just one week ago believed that this life that we have now is all the exists, that all our hope lies in our life here on earth and that there is nothing to live for past that.  Just yesterday, as we said our goodbyes, this wonderful old man told us that even though we might not see him again here on earth, that we will see him one day in heaven.

This week, I hugged on children and watched them cry as we told them our final goodbyes.  Goodbyes, and not See You Laters.  It was in that moment that through foggy eyes I was reminded that my purpose in temporary, and while these beautiful children of Guachupita are no longer under my love and protection, they are cared for by a loving God who can do much greater things than me anyway.

So... that's my week, in words.  Overwhelming, rejoiceful, and heartbreaking all at the same time.  Each and everyday I experience a love and compassion that I will never be able to forget.  It's a wild ride, no doubt, but one I am glad I took the time to stand in line for.

Reality

Today, I had a little dose of reality.  

As I sat outside of a small, blue house at the back end of Guachupita, I tried to internalize all that surrounded me.  As crazy as it may sound, the more times I return to this place, the more I dull myself to the poverty that exists here.  I forget that living in a house of tin walls in not normal.  I forget that life without electricity or living water is not normal.   I forget that children running around half naked in the dirtiest area of the country is not normal.

As I sat there and took in the brokenness around me, all I could think was "this is reality."  There are days when I long so desperately for the comforts of home, days when I want to break free from this oppression and the desperation that is all around, days that all I want is to be back home, back in the realm of reality... and then I realize, for them, this is home.  This is their place of solitude, their place of comfort... for them, this is reality.

We all know poverty exists, right?  But do we ever actually understand what it means to live within that poverty?  Do we understand that many of the children that grow up in these cultures don't know that what they have isn't enough?  Are we able to comprehend the fact that this is not just temporary, that day in and day out for these people this is LIFE?

My heart was broken once again today for the people here, mostly because I realize that in just 7 days from now I will pack up my stuff and move on, traveling around the world and eventually returning to my reality, back to my home... and the people here, they may never have the opportunity to move on, they may never be able to escape this reality.