I don't understand why the the poorest nation in the Western hemisphere was left powerless as the ground shook. I don't understand why those who already struggled to stand were knocked into the dirt again. I don't understand why hundreds of thousands of people had to be crushed, or why millions are left to mourn for the loved ones that lie beneath the dust and rubble, while more millions sleep under sheets at the feet of their neighbours. I don't understand why a country with so little dignity has been stripped as they are forced to bare everything to bathe on the sides of the streets. I don't understand why parents cannot keep their children, or the love it takes to give a child up for a better life with someone else. I don't understand the struggle to go days without food. I don't understand why such a beautiful people must endure these things.
But I found this verse, and I can't even begin to explain how cool this is to me.
1 Kings 19:11-12
The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by. Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.
Haiti endured a 7.0 earthquake, countless more aftershocks, and now it endures the rains. But God has come upon Haiti in a gentle whisper.
There are so many things I don't understand. But I saw God using the earthquake. I saw the most resilient nation stand up, brush themselves off, let the tears slide down their face, raise their hands, and open their mouths to praise the King of Kings, the God of their country, and the Savior of their hearts.
God whispers to them. He whispers of comfort, and hope, and peace, and love, and strength, and of His glory. And He is with those beautiful Haitians as they cry, and as they sleep under sheets, and as they wonder where their next meal will come from.
He whispers.
Isaiah 54;10
Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed," says the LORD, who has compassion on you
"He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" Micah 6:8
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
one month ago today i would have been...
One month ago, I would have started the morning changing 15 diapers. There would be a beautiful kind of chaos about the balcony as each volunteer went about dividing their attention between three children, watching the smiles and laughter erupt from their faces. The ground shook still, reminding us all of what had changed in forty seconds, a testament to the reality that all of Haiti faced. A reality that we could escape from by looking into the eyes of a child, by kissing their cheeks and watching them giggle, or by pushing them in toy cars and swings.
They didn't need to know why the news was on constantly downstairs. That the death toll climbed with every hour, that the streets of Port au Prince and everywhere else had been left unrecognizable. They didn't have to worry that water might not come or that food might be scarce. They just had to be kids - and thankfully, we just had to let them.
That day, after the 7.0 earthquake that devastated the beautiful nation of Haiti, I felt my Lord wrapping His arms around my heart and mind, whispering peace into my ears, filling me with energy and love to pour on those kids. I wasn't feeling all that strong, but then again, God doesn't say "You are too emotional, I can't use you" or "Work out for a few weeks, then we'll talk". No - He see's you when you are tired and weak and ready to fully submit to Him, and He says "NOW we're talking!" And then, He uses you for the coolest things!
I remember attempting to help the nannies feed the kids. They have it down to an exact art you see, and I am no Picasso, let me tell you. But as we struggled to get kids in chairs and to figure out which mouth to feed next, or how to get that one stubborn little guy to swallow, Rhyan, one of the volunteers said "You know what? Earthquakes are fun!" I remember looking at her like "Are you crazy?" and wondering what could possibly be fun about them, when she elaborated. "I was here for nine months last year, and I NEVER got to be a part of feeding the kids. We get to see how things usually are around here. It's fun!"
I'll be, She was right.
Explosive diapers? Bring it on. Kids who won't swallow? Sure, we'll take those too. Because those kids were the reason we were there, were the reason behind every smile, the reason we didn't keel over in exhaustion. Those kids were our hope.
And after those long days, laying on the bunks in the toddler house, the unashamed voices from the nannies at the toddler house would raise to the sky glorifying our unshaken God, and we knew everything would be alright. That the ground might tremble, but our faith didn't have to, because He's got the whole world in His hands.
Maybe it took an earthquake for me to realize that.
They didn't need to know why the news was on constantly downstairs. That the death toll climbed with every hour, that the streets of Port au Prince and everywhere else had been left unrecognizable. They didn't have to worry that water might not come or that food might be scarce. They just had to be kids - and thankfully, we just had to let them.
That day, after the 7.0 earthquake that devastated the beautiful nation of Haiti, I felt my Lord wrapping His arms around my heart and mind, whispering peace into my ears, filling me with energy and love to pour on those kids. I wasn't feeling all that strong, but then again, God doesn't say "You are too emotional, I can't use you" or "Work out for a few weeks, then we'll talk". No - He see's you when you are tired and weak and ready to fully submit to Him, and He says "NOW we're talking!" And then, He uses you for the coolest things!
I remember attempting to help the nannies feed the kids. They have it down to an exact art you see, and I am no Picasso, let me tell you. But as we struggled to get kids in chairs and to figure out which mouth to feed next, or how to get that one stubborn little guy to swallow, Rhyan, one of the volunteers said "You know what? Earthquakes are fun!" I remember looking at her like "Are you crazy?" and wondering what could possibly be fun about them, when she elaborated. "I was here for nine months last year, and I NEVER got to be a part of feeding the kids. We get to see how things usually are around here. It's fun!"
I'll be, She was right.
Explosive diapers? Bring it on. Kids who won't swallow? Sure, we'll take those too. Because those kids were the reason we were there, were the reason behind every smile, the reason we didn't keel over in exhaustion. Those kids were our hope.
And after those long days, laying on the bunks in the toddler house, the unashamed voices from the nannies at the toddler house would raise to the sky glorifying our unshaken God, and we knew everything would be alright. That the ground might tremble, but our faith didn't have to, because He's got the whole world in His hands.
Maybe it took an earthquake for me to realize that.
Monday, February 8, 2010
FAITH
The other day, I was driving home from Lethbridge through some serious fog. It was night, and I could barely see 10 meters in front of me. I did not know when the road curved or dipped, nor if I was even close to the lights of the place I called home.
As I drove, hunched white knuckled over the steering wheel, I began to think... isn't faith so much like driving through fog? At times, there is such a haze around us that we can't see where we are going, and we have to follow blindly. Even though we don't know we are getting any closer, even though we don't feel like we are gaining any ground, we just have to trust that the road we are on is taking us home. That God is still there in the darkness.
And then, maybe sometimes you can't follow blindly, maybe sometimes you need a reason, a something to follow. As I drove along the dark, foggy roads, at the times I was most afraid, I would be passed by one vehicle. Not ten, not five, not two, just one. And then I would follow the car as it curved with the road, much more at ease because someone had drove the road before me. And isn't that what Jesus does for us? When we are fearful and afraid, when we have abandoned hope and lost faith, He is there, in front of us, headlights lighting the way, assuring us that we WILL make it home... that He will lead us there.
Just something to think about.
As I drove, hunched white knuckled over the steering wheel, I began to think... isn't faith so much like driving through fog? At times, there is such a haze around us that we can't see where we are going, and we have to follow blindly. Even though we don't know we are getting any closer, even though we don't feel like we are gaining any ground, we just have to trust that the road we are on is taking us home. That God is still there in the darkness.
And then, maybe sometimes you can't follow blindly, maybe sometimes you need a reason, a something to follow. As I drove along the dark, foggy roads, at the times I was most afraid, I would be passed by one vehicle. Not ten, not five, not two, just one. And then I would follow the car as it curved with the road, much more at ease because someone had drove the road before me. And isn't that what Jesus does for us? When we are fearful and afraid, when we have abandoned hope and lost faith, He is there, in front of us, headlights lighting the way, assuring us that we WILL make it home... that He will lead us there.
Just something to think about.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
for a beautiful girl.
I remember her eyes. They told a story, almost like a mystery just begging to be pulled off the shelf and read. She was guarded, reserving her smile only if I drew it out of her, but it was the most beautiful of smiles when I finally did. Her laugh was like a fresh breath of air, and I would find new life in myself just because I heard it.
She knew people came and didn't stay long, so when I held her, she would hold tight as if to never let go. When I had to put her down, she would desperately cling to me, fighting whatever obstacles were in the way of her and her being loved. Her tears prompted my own, because it was hard to know they fell for my abandonment, however brief it may have been.
She was tempermental, and not halfheartedly so. Her stubbornness made her all the more appealing to love, and value, and hold. Maybe she will never know of the piece of my heart she took with her, and maybe she won't ever know that somewhere, on the other side of the globe, there is someone praying that she finds a love to smile about all the time. But maybe, just maybe, for the short time I spent with her, she knew that she was loved, and thats all I could ever hope for.
I remember her eyes.
She knew people came and didn't stay long, so when I held her, she would hold tight as if to never let go. When I had to put her down, she would desperately cling to me, fighting whatever obstacles were in the way of her and her being loved. Her tears prompted my own, because it was hard to know they fell for my abandonment, however brief it may have been.
She was tempermental, and not halfheartedly so. Her stubbornness made her all the more appealing to love, and value, and hold. Maybe she will never know of the piece of my heart she took with her, and maybe she won't ever know that somewhere, on the other side of the globe, there is someone praying that she finds a love to smile about all the time. But maybe, just maybe, for the short time I spent with her, she knew that she was loved, and thats all I could ever hope for.
I remember her eyes.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
it's never been harder to be home.
Words. Words. Words.
They tumble from my mouth but they feel so useless and so inadequate. To explain such a breathtaking place. To illustrate such a beautiful people. To convey the feeling of a little child wrapping their arms around you.
How does one live a changed life when they return to a society that has not? A society that is seperated from the heartbeak and anguish by a TV screen, and that is worlds apart from the devastation left by rubble and concrete splayed out onto the streets.
I watched a commercial today. A bit ridiculous really, it was about a closet spacesaver. The bold words blared across the screen: "DO YOU HAVE TOO MUCH STUFF?" Yes, I do. I burst into tears for a people that I have seen content with living a simple life. A truly rich life.A people that do not have much stuff at all. I'm struggling with the guilt of falling back into North American luxuries, when I would be so content to be back on the top bunk of the toddler house.
I think I left my heart in Haiti.
They tumble from my mouth but they feel so useless and so inadequate. To explain such a breathtaking place. To illustrate such a beautiful people. To convey the feeling of a little child wrapping their arms around you.
How does one live a changed life when they return to a society that has not? A society that is seperated from the heartbeak and anguish by a TV screen, and that is worlds apart from the devastation left by rubble and concrete splayed out onto the streets.
I watched a commercial today. A bit ridiculous really, it was about a closet spacesaver. The bold words blared across the screen: "DO YOU HAVE TOO MUCH STUFF?" Yes, I do. I burst into tears for a people that I have seen content with living a simple life. A truly rich life.A people that do not have much stuff at all. I'm struggling with the guilt of falling back into North American luxuries, when I would be so content to be back on the top bunk of the toddler house.
I think I left my heart in Haiti.
Friday, January 29, 2010
the best feeling
I always wondered what the best feeling in the world could be. And now I know what that feeling is.
We got off the plane after a night of little sleep and lots of diarhea. Descending the plane's steps, we were greeted by the frigid air of the new home of the child wrapped in our arms. Blankets were hastily wrapped around them as we crossed the tarmac into the room of waiting parents. Walking through the door, it was amazing to see the people, eyes eager and wet, arms empty but soon to be filled with the most amazing bundle of joy. I gave my child's name as the volunteer scanned the names on his list and pointed me in the direction of the two people who were waiting for the boy I held in my arms. Choking back my own emotion, I made my way over and smiled, holding out their son. He did not resist the arms that enveloped him, the arms of his family. She looked at me, tears in her eyes, silent gratitude emanating from her as she squeezed my arm. It was the same for the rest of the families in the room. Smiles and tears and bottled emotion spilled over from every corner, and I wonder if I have ever felt so much love and warmth and relief in one place.
I took it in, my own eyes wet, and then walked outside to get my luggage, knowing that it was not anything special to bring with me. Not like what I had just experienced.
We got off the plane after a night of little sleep and lots of diarhea. Descending the plane's steps, we were greeted by the frigid air of the new home of the child wrapped in our arms. Blankets were hastily wrapped around them as we crossed the tarmac into the room of waiting parents. Walking through the door, it was amazing to see the people, eyes eager and wet, arms empty but soon to be filled with the most amazing bundle of joy. I gave my child's name as the volunteer scanned the names on his list and pointed me in the direction of the two people who were waiting for the boy I held in my arms. Choking back my own emotion, I made my way over and smiled, holding out their son. He did not resist the arms that enveloped him, the arms of his family. She looked at me, tears in her eyes, silent gratitude emanating from her as she squeezed my arm. It was the same for the rest of the families in the room. Smiles and tears and bottled emotion spilled over from every corner, and I wonder if I have ever felt so much love and warmth and relief in one place.
I took it in, my own eyes wet, and then walked outside to get my luggage, knowing that it was not anything special to bring with me. Not like what I had just experienced.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Misery Eats Itself
(Inspired by the words of a 12 year old boy named Kelvin... "In Haiti, if you have no money, your misery eats itself"
There lie the shambles of a street that stood the day before
each toppled, turned to rubble,
crumbled into nothing more
Broken bodies sprawled across the street
broken spirits wrestling to breathe
blood running into open gutters
Humanity opens her mouth
to swallow up a forgotten people
but hope that was before forsaken
wont let that mouth close
When they are famished on faith,
and starving for hope
Misery eats itself,
Their misery eats itself
But their voices rise
in a desperate cry
And they reach out their arms,
And You reach back.
With You're arms of love,
Almighty arms of love,
and you hold the broken people
as you whole the broken nation
And people turn to You
when they see the devastation
The earth may tremble, the ground may shake
Hearts may shatter and hearts may break
But You,
You are not moved
A solid rock in which to trust,
a hope that mingles with the dust
You're there, reaching back
With You're arms of love,
Almighty arms of love,
and you hold the broken people
as you whole the broken nation
And people turn to You
when they see the devastation
A peoples cries hardly heard,
WE NEED HELP signs passed and blurred
Desperation falling on deaf ears
Prayers tumbling from broken lips
Did it have to come to this
for You to make Your presence known to them?
Famished for faith,
starved for hope,
longing for love,
Their misery eats itself
Unashamed voices,
Heartfelt cries,
Falling tears,
and outstretched arms.
But You reach back.
He's reaching back with arms of love.
A broken nation on it's knees,
swallowed up in misery
They're reaching
reaching.
There lie the shambles of a street that stood the day before
each toppled, turned to rubble,
crumbled into nothing more
Broken bodies sprawled across the street
broken spirits wrestling to breathe
blood running into open gutters
Humanity opens her mouth
to swallow up a forgotten people
but hope that was before forsaken
wont let that mouth close
When they are famished on faith,
and starving for hope
Misery eats itself,
Their misery eats itself
But their voices rise
in a desperate cry
And they reach out their arms,
And You reach back.
With You're arms of love,
Almighty arms of love,
and you hold the broken people
as you whole the broken nation
And people turn to You
when they see the devastation
The earth may tremble, the ground may shake
Hearts may shatter and hearts may break
But You,
You are not moved
A solid rock in which to trust,
a hope that mingles with the dust
You're there, reaching back
With You're arms of love,
Almighty arms of love,
and you hold the broken people
as you whole the broken nation
And people turn to You
when they see the devastation
A peoples cries hardly heard,
WE NEED HELP signs passed and blurred
Desperation falling on deaf ears
Prayers tumbling from broken lips
Did it have to come to this
for You to make Your presence known to them?
Famished for faith,
starved for hope,
longing for love,
Their misery eats itself
Unashamed voices,
Heartfelt cries,
Falling tears,
and outstretched arms.
But You reach back.
He's reaching back with arms of love.
A broken nation on it's knees,
swallowed up in misery
They're reaching
reaching.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Unexpected Answers
You know what? God has quite the sense of humor.
Before coming, I kept telling everyone I was going to be bringing a kid home with me.... well, now I am bringing twenty!
It reminds me of something Mary Jo, one of the American volunteers, said on the way to the airport on Thursday. She said, out of the blue, "God is so faithful, He always answers prayer." When we asked her what she meant by this, she said "For years, I prayed I would be the one to take one of these children home. Now I get to, but on a larger scale, and not the way I expected."
That really stuck with me.
Before I came to Haiti, I asked God for an experience. I asked Him to stretch me and to break me and to use me. He has done all those things. And in all of those things, not the way I expected.
|
I did not come expecting an earthquake and to go home in two weeks. I came fully intending to hang out with my eight kids a day for two and a half months. But God shook the ground and along with it my expectations, and in so many ways I witnessed God working as I never would have before.
God answered my prayer. My heart is torn, I have fallen in love with Haiti, the people and the land and the children, but He put me here for such a time as this, and now He is calling me home. I know for sure that I will not be saying a final goodbye to this breathtaking country.
"You're calling me to lay aside the worries of my day
To quiet down my busy mind and find a hiding place
Worthy, Worthy
I open up my heart and let my spirit worship Yours
I open up my mouth and let a song of praise come forth
Worthy, You are worthy
Of a child-like faith
And of my honest praise
And of my unashamed love
Of a holy life
And of my sacrifice
Of my unashamed love"
Before coming, I kept telling everyone I was going to be bringing a kid home with me.... well, now I am bringing twenty!
It reminds me of something Mary Jo, one of the American volunteers, said on the way to the airport on Thursday. She said, out of the blue, "God is so faithful, He always answers prayer." When we asked her what she meant by this, she said "For years, I prayed I would be the one to take one of these children home. Now I get to, but on a larger scale, and not the way I expected."
That really stuck with me.
Before I came to Haiti, I asked God for an experience. I asked Him to stretch me and to break me and to use me. He has done all those things. And in all of those things, not the way I expected.
|
I did not come expecting an earthquake and to go home in two weeks. I came fully intending to hang out with my eight kids a day for two and a half months. But God shook the ground and along with it my expectations, and in so many ways I witnessed God working as I never would have before.
God answered my prayer. My heart is torn, I have fallen in love with Haiti, the people and the land and the children, but He put me here for such a time as this, and now He is calling me home. I know for sure that I will not be saying a final goodbye to this breathtaking country.
"You're calling me to lay aside the worries of my day
To quiet down my busy mind and find a hiding place
Worthy, Worthy
I open up my heart and let my spirit worship Yours
I open up my mouth and let a song of praise come forth
Worthy, You are worthy
Of a child-like faith
And of my honest praise
And of my unashamed love
Of a holy life
And of my sacrifice
Of my unashamed love"
Saturday, January 23, 2010
The hardest goodbye of all
It is impossible not to fall in love with Haiti.
It's in the simple lifestyle these people have, and yet the way they care for each other. It's in the buildings, far from elegant and yet compelling in their humble simplicity. It's in the lush green foliage that envelopes you in its vibrancy. It's in the eyes of the kids, brigthened with joy as they marvel at little things or in their arms as they reach out to be held and hugged.It's in their unashamed praises, the way they lift their voices to the heavens regardles of where they are.
All Canadians are being sent home. We will be escorting the kids going to Canadian families. Yp be honest, I don't want to go. Although it's been a challenging two weeks, I wouldn't change it for anything. I am sad that my adventure is ending so early, but I know God has a plan that I need to trust. He held me through an earthquake and through circumstances I would never have anticipated, and I know He will hold me through whatever comes next.
I will be seeing everyone soon!
It's in the simple lifestyle these people have, and yet the way they care for each other. It's in the buildings, far from elegant and yet compelling in their humble simplicity. It's in the lush green foliage that envelopes you in its vibrancy. It's in the eyes of the kids, brigthened with joy as they marvel at little things or in their arms as they reach out to be held and hugged.It's in their unashamed praises, the way they lift their voices to the heavens regardles of where they are.
All Canadians are being sent home. We will be escorting the kids going to Canadian families. Yp be honest, I don't want to go. Although it's been a challenging two weeks, I wouldn't change it for anything. I am sad that my adventure is ending so early, but I know God has a plan that I need to trust. He held me through an earthquake and through circumstances I would never have anticipated, and I know He will hold me through whatever comes next.
I will be seeing everyone soon!
Friday, January 22, 2010
I will not be shaken.
It is so amazing to me, the bond that can be established in the midst of crisis, tragedy and fear. While the world watched wide-eyed from their couches as news that a 7.0 earthquake devastated impoverished Haiti, we were here, being strong for each other and soothing the tears of frightened children.
I have since said goodbye to the four ladies that strengthened me, understood me, cried with me, and hugged me. I have held children for the last time, letting go only because it means they get to be in the arms of their family. I have found that it takes only a moment for your heart to be swept away in the eyes of a child, but forever to let go of them in your heart. As I watched the plane carrying 37 GLA children to the Netherlands and Luxembourg, along with a girl with the biggest heart I have ever seen, I cried. The tidy little box that I had kept my emotions in for the past week fell apart, and I broke.
I am not afraid of being broken. I am not ashamed that I have been shattered from the things I saw on the streets of Port au Prince, or for the fear I felt and still feel when the ground moves under my feet.
Of all the relationships I have established, the bond that has strengthened most has been my bond with God. In Him, I have found strength I never knew I had. I found the ability to love fiercely. I found a comforter, and arms to run to when I am afraid. I found a rock in which to put my trust.
I keep singing this song. It's a camp song, and the lyrics couldn't be a more perfect fit for these last few days.
I will declare my choice to the nations
Shout for joy in the congregation
I will worship God (worship God)
All my days
Those who love the Lord are satisfied
Those who trust in Him are justified
I will serve my God (serve my God)
All my days
When the nations crumble,
the Word of the Lord will stand
Kings may rise and fall,
but His love will endure
Though the strong may stumble
The joy of the Lord is strength to my soul
I will not be shaken,
I will not be moved
I will not be shaken!
I have since said goodbye to the four ladies that strengthened me, understood me, cried with me, and hugged me. I have held children for the last time, letting go only because it means they get to be in the arms of their family. I have found that it takes only a moment for your heart to be swept away in the eyes of a child, but forever to let go of them in your heart. As I watched the plane carrying 37 GLA children to the Netherlands and Luxembourg, along with a girl with the biggest heart I have ever seen, I cried. The tidy little box that I had kept my emotions in for the past week fell apart, and I broke.
I am not afraid of being broken. I am not ashamed that I have been shattered from the things I saw on the streets of Port au Prince, or for the fear I felt and still feel when the ground moves under my feet.
Of all the relationships I have established, the bond that has strengthened most has been my bond with God. In Him, I have found strength I never knew I had. I found the ability to love fiercely. I found a comforter, and arms to run to when I am afraid. I found a rock in which to put my trust.
I keep singing this song. It's a camp song, and the lyrics couldn't be a more perfect fit for these last few days.
I will declare my choice to the nations
Shout for joy in the congregation
I will worship God (worship God)
All my days
Those who love the Lord are satisfied
Those who trust in Him are justified
I will serve my God (serve my God)
All my days
When the nations crumble,
the Word of the Lord will stand
Kings may rise and fall,
but His love will endure
Though the strong may stumble
The joy of the Lord is strength to my soul
I will not be shaken,
I will not be moved
I will not be shaken!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
PRAY!
One of our little babies is very very sick. I cannot offer details, just the plea that you join us in petitioning to our loving Father to come upon this little child in healing. Urgently.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Dutch Marines, Goodbyes, and more!
Picture this... it's supper time, we are all starved, just scarfing down a delicious meal complete with black rice and fresh tomatoes, when four tall men walk through the door. "I have brought the Dutch Marines with me and they have a little gift for you guys!" says the man in charge (who by the way happens to be the dutch ambassador, no big deal!) We're just desperate for anything we can get, so we all ditch our plates and run outside... where there is this huge assembly line of the dutch marines hauling box after box of supplies and stacking it into a massive pile. Little gift? That's like telling a little kid that Disneyland is only "a little" fun!
I never cease to be amazed at God's goodness. The scene outside was one of the most unreal things I have ever witnessed, and yet again one of those unexpected examples of God's amazing timing and provision. We had doctors look at our sick children, a huge bag of medicine was just left here for us to use to make these kids healthy again. We have diapers and water and juice and milk and who knows what else!
The coolest part for me was when we brought the kids out so that the marines could hold them. We brought out the youngest baby currently at GLA, he is two months old, and countless men chimed in "If he doesn't have a family, I'll take him!" (We already fight over him here, but he is going home to the Netherlands tomorrow!) The dutch marines were not just there to toss a couple boxes and get on their way, they were so absolutely sincere and genuine and their hearts just totally blessed us along with the supplies they brought!
I have only been here 8 days, and seeing these kids leave is hard! The one little girl I held at this very time last week after the earthquake developed a special bond with me, and she is going home tomorrow. I'm so happy she will be with her family, but I will really miss that beautiful little girl. She stole my heart in a week, and I will not let go of her with dry eyes. I cannot imagine what the fulltime staff and returning volunteers are going through, being connected to these kids for so much longer.
I may also lose my last room mate to yet another evacuation plane. Those four girls shared a very significant experience with me, and it will be hard to lose that companionship. I understand their choice to return home, I will not pretend I haven't wished I was at home a million times throughout this week. But when they woke us up late last night and gave us the chance to leave on a plane in the morning, I had such peace about staying, and so I am still here. God is not done with me yet!
Pray for us to run and not grow weary, to walk and not grow faint, to be lifted up on wings like eagles. Pray that all our kids that are leaving tomorrow would be safe, and absolutely revel in their forever families love. Pray that the countries that have not yet opened their borders would have compassion for these kids and take them in. And pray for us to constantly praise God for His goodness and love which He is just pouring on us here!
God bless you guys as I have been blessed by your encouragement, prayers, love and support!
I never cease to be amazed at God's goodness. The scene outside was one of the most unreal things I have ever witnessed, and yet again one of those unexpected examples of God's amazing timing and provision. We had doctors look at our sick children, a huge bag of medicine was just left here for us to use to make these kids healthy again. We have diapers and water and juice and milk and who knows what else!
The coolest part for me was when we brought the kids out so that the marines could hold them. We brought out the youngest baby currently at GLA, he is two months old, and countless men chimed in "If he doesn't have a family, I'll take him!" (We already fight over him here, but he is going home to the Netherlands tomorrow!) The dutch marines were not just there to toss a couple boxes and get on their way, they were so absolutely sincere and genuine and their hearts just totally blessed us along with the supplies they brought!
I have only been here 8 days, and seeing these kids leave is hard! The one little girl I held at this very time last week after the earthquake developed a special bond with me, and she is going home tomorrow. I'm so happy she will be with her family, but I will really miss that beautiful little girl. She stole my heart in a week, and I will not let go of her with dry eyes. I cannot imagine what the fulltime staff and returning volunteers are going through, being connected to these kids for so much longer.
I may also lose my last room mate to yet another evacuation plane. Those four girls shared a very significant experience with me, and it will be hard to lose that companionship. I understand their choice to return home, I will not pretend I haven't wished I was at home a million times throughout this week. But when they woke us up late last night and gave us the chance to leave on a plane in the morning, I had such peace about staying, and so I am still here. God is not done with me yet!
Pray for us to run and not grow weary, to walk and not grow faint, to be lifted up on wings like eagles. Pray that all our kids that are leaving tomorrow would be safe, and absolutely revel in their forever families love. Pray that the countries that have not yet opened their borders would have compassion for these kids and take them in. And pray for us to constantly praise God for His goodness and love which He is just pouring on us here!
God bless you guys as I have been blessed by your encouragement, prayers, love and support!
Monday, January 18, 2010
"Let my children go!"
Tomorrow, 23 kids will be on a plane to the Netherlands to finally be with their families, regardless of the paperwork being complete. Later this week, 70-some kids will follow on a plane to the United States. Praise the Lord! These kids deserve all the love and attention in the world, and to go home finally, even though the tedious process is not completed, is SO AMAZING! We'll sure miss the kids here, but we can't even begin to imagine how loved they will be with their families! Lets pray that other countries open their borders to these orphans so that even more children can bless and be blessed by a loving family!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
What they aren't showing you on TV.
American networks show you that relief has come to Haiti. Images of workers handing out food and hospitals treating victims flash across the screen over and over.
That is not Haiti's reality right now. The missionary couple that has us over for church on Sundays paints a totally different picture of what is really happening in the streets of Port au Prince. Yesterday, they visited the poorest parts of Port au Prince and other Haitian vilages and only once saw a rescue team. Where is this aid that the TV set speaks of? In one of the areas, the Haitian people had posted a banner that says in both english and french, WE NEED HELP. Survivors are still buried beneath the rubble and they do not have the means to save them. Helicopters fly overhead and cannot read the banner, so they do not stop. It's heartbreaking that despite the media coverage, Haitian cries are not heard.
I have heard on more than one occasion that Haitian people do not turn to the American relief workers for fast help, rather they look to the people of God. Many people I am working with believe that this earthquake will be a revival for the people of Haiti. We've already seen evidence of that, when the Haitian people marched in the streets singing praises in creole. Our ride to church can only be described as inspiring. People were filling churches, dressed in their Sunday best.
Keep praying for Haiti, that the people would look to the Lord in this tragic time and find strength and peace. Pray that supplies and rescue could reach everybody in Haiti and not just the few you see when you flick on the television. Pray for GLA, we still are in need of supplies, fuel and water especially. And pray for us, that our work would be pleasing to the Lord and that we would continue to give all of ourselves in whatever we do, even as we are sick and admittedly smelly!
That is not Haiti's reality right now. The missionary couple that has us over for church on Sundays paints a totally different picture of what is really happening in the streets of Port au Prince. Yesterday, they visited the poorest parts of Port au Prince and other Haitian vilages and only once saw a rescue team. Where is this aid that the TV set speaks of? In one of the areas, the Haitian people had posted a banner that says in both english and french, WE NEED HELP. Survivors are still buried beneath the rubble and they do not have the means to save them. Helicopters fly overhead and cannot read the banner, so they do not stop. It's heartbreaking that despite the media coverage, Haitian cries are not heard.
I have heard on more than one occasion that Haitian people do not turn to the American relief workers for fast help, rather they look to the people of God. Many people I am working with believe that this earthquake will be a revival for the people of Haiti. We've already seen evidence of that, when the Haitian people marched in the streets singing praises in creole. Our ride to church can only be described as inspiring. People were filling churches, dressed in their Sunday best.
Keep praying for Haiti, that the people would look to the Lord in this tragic time and find strength and peace. Pray that supplies and rescue could reach everybody in Haiti and not just the few you see when you flick on the television. Pray for GLA, we still are in need of supplies, fuel and water especially. And pray for us, that our work would be pleasing to the Lord and that we would continue to give all of ourselves in whatever we do, even as we are sick and admittedly smelly!
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Not so impossible joy!
What a week it has been! If you had told me a week ago that my first week in Haiti would be fraught with a 7.0 earthquake, aftershocks, loss, destruction, and constant busyness, I probably would have laughed and said "Impossible!" Well joke is on me, absolutely nothing is impossible with God!
I love this place. I love the land, the green hills covered in cloudy haze, the concrete houses that are stacked on the hillside. I love the people here, and their huge hearts for what they are doing. I LOVE the kids, snotty noses and dirty diapers can't stop you from smiling when you see them running towards you with a big grin on their face.
To be honest, I am filthy. We are conserving water so none of us can shower. We're greasy, we smell, our skin is covered with a layer of grime, and guess what.... we are loving it! We get to play nanny, and help with feeding and diaper changing. I have a white shirt that is covered with poop stains, and I practically wanted to show it off... look mom! See what I did today?
We normally do not work on weekends, but of course these aren't exactly normal circumstances. We're all pretty tired, but I have honestly never truly understood the truth of God perfecting weakness! Everytime I am lacking, God gives me strength. All it takes is one look into the eyes of a child, and I can find it in myself to give more, love harder, hug tighter.
People keep sending me messages about how "strong" of a person I am, and how "inspiring" what I am doing is. I think God is the culprit behind that, because there is NO WAY I could have come this far on my own. I've cried, I've been overwhelmed, but yet in the times I have needed to forget about myself, it's been easy to do, because I'm not here for me. God chose me to be here for these kids, and maybe I will never know the reason, but it's been so cool to see His power and His love in all of this. I personally think that the truest strength is shown by the nannies. Many lost family and neighbours in those forty life-changing seconds, and while they allowed themselves time for grief, they keep working. I'm so blown away, for in the midst of their pain and sadness, they are still changing diapers, washing and feeding these kids. I can only aspire to have that kind of strength.
We received water yesterday and are expecting a plane of supplies in on Tuesday, along with 10 volunteers! God is so good. He has touched so many hearts through our pleas and we are blessed.
The nannies at the toddler house sing praises in creole outside our window every night. I can't think of a better way to end the day. Sure, our days can be long and busy and chaotic, but those nighttime serenades remind us to find peace. Wordless, but yet powerful, music does not require a language and is not restricted to creole or english. It's amazing.
Keep on praying, we appreciate you SO MUCH!
I love this place. I love the land, the green hills covered in cloudy haze, the concrete houses that are stacked on the hillside. I love the people here, and their huge hearts for what they are doing. I LOVE the kids, snotty noses and dirty diapers can't stop you from smiling when you see them running towards you with a big grin on their face.
To be honest, I am filthy. We are conserving water so none of us can shower. We're greasy, we smell, our skin is covered with a layer of grime, and guess what.... we are loving it! We get to play nanny, and help with feeding and diaper changing. I have a white shirt that is covered with poop stains, and I practically wanted to show it off... look mom! See what I did today?
We normally do not work on weekends, but of course these aren't exactly normal circumstances. We're all pretty tired, but I have honestly never truly understood the truth of God perfecting weakness! Everytime I am lacking, God gives me strength. All it takes is one look into the eyes of a child, and I can find it in myself to give more, love harder, hug tighter.
People keep sending me messages about how "strong" of a person I am, and how "inspiring" what I am doing is. I think God is the culprit behind that, because there is NO WAY I could have come this far on my own. I've cried, I've been overwhelmed, but yet in the times I have needed to forget about myself, it's been easy to do, because I'm not here for me. God chose me to be here for these kids, and maybe I will never know the reason, but it's been so cool to see His power and His love in all of this. I personally think that the truest strength is shown by the nannies. Many lost family and neighbours in those forty life-changing seconds, and while they allowed themselves time for grief, they keep working. I'm so blown away, for in the midst of their pain and sadness, they are still changing diapers, washing and feeding these kids. I can only aspire to have that kind of strength.
We received water yesterday and are expecting a plane of supplies in on Tuesday, along with 10 volunteers! God is so good. He has touched so many hearts through our pleas and we are blessed.
The nannies at the toddler house sing praises in creole outside our window every night. I can't think of a better way to end the day. Sure, our days can be long and busy and chaotic, but those nighttime serenades remind us to find peace. Wordless, but yet powerful, music does not require a language and is not restricted to creole or english. It's amazing.
Keep on praying, we appreciate you SO MUCH!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Right where He needs me.
So much weighs on my heart right now. I have spent two days witnessing a grief that is not my own, yet a grief so horrific and heartbreaking that you cannot help but cry along. The stories I have heard and the pictures I have seen are just devastating. They say blood runs down the streets of Port Au Prince into the gutters. For me, its just beyond heartwrenching to think that this happened to an already impoverished nation. I remember my ride here, taking in the streets and how little people lived on, and in less than a minute that little became nothing. Everything they had lies flattened and crumbled, even dead beneath the rubble. I can't wrap my head or my heart around it.
I have been contacted for interviews, and I never know what to say. Often my words are far less articulate then the things weighing on my heart. How can I find the words to describe the gripping fear when the ground moves beneath you and there is absolutely nothing you can do, not a thought that stays in your head for more than a second before giving way to the next frantic thought. How can I describe the anguish on the face of someone who has lost those that they love? How can anything I say possibly make people understand the magnitude of this crisis? Because it can't. And I wrestle with my answers time and time again because they never do justice to the gravity of the situation.
Today, Canadian and American volunteers had the choice to leave. To evacuate on a plane and go home. I couldn't even consider the thought of leaving this place behind. I miss home more than words can say. But I am supposed to be here, and I have no doubt in my mind that God put me here, at this time, in this place, to love kids and to be His hands and feet. And its not always easy, with so few nannies and the loss of one volunteer today to the evacuation, we had extra duties. I think I changed twenty diapers today, and I learned fast that touching poo is not in fact the end of the world! I'm exhausted, but I feel like I have held nothing back, and that is satisfying.
I was the victim of a fifteen kid dogpile today. Did I say victim? I mean recipient. These kids need love so fiercely. So what if I was knocked over and mauled? I wish I could explain the feeling of walking into a nursery full of kids and them surrounding you in a second on all sides, arms outstreched, reaching out for love and affection, crying out so that you'll pick them. And when you go to put them down how they do everything in their power to stay in your arms. My heart has been shattered for these kids, and thats why I stay, because putting a smile on their faces, hearing them laugh... its the most incredible feeling in the world!
PRAYER REQUESTS:
- Faith, so that we remember even when aftershocks occur and the out-of-control feeling returns that GOD is in control
- Rest, we are all weary and emotionally drained
- Peace
- Pray that the orphanage can recieve supplies, we were able to get groceries today but they are unsure that we will be getting water
I have been so encouraged by all the messages and prayers, I am so thankful for everyone =)
I have been contacted for interviews, and I never know what to say. Often my words are far less articulate then the things weighing on my heart. How can I find the words to describe the gripping fear when the ground moves beneath you and there is absolutely nothing you can do, not a thought that stays in your head for more than a second before giving way to the next frantic thought. How can I describe the anguish on the face of someone who has lost those that they love? How can anything I say possibly make people understand the magnitude of this crisis? Because it can't. And I wrestle with my answers time and time again because they never do justice to the gravity of the situation.
Today, Canadian and American volunteers had the choice to leave. To evacuate on a plane and go home. I couldn't even consider the thought of leaving this place behind. I miss home more than words can say. But I am supposed to be here, and I have no doubt in my mind that God put me here, at this time, in this place, to love kids and to be His hands and feet. And its not always easy, with so few nannies and the loss of one volunteer today to the evacuation, we had extra duties. I think I changed twenty diapers today, and I learned fast that touching poo is not in fact the end of the world! I'm exhausted, but I feel like I have held nothing back, and that is satisfying.
I was the victim of a fifteen kid dogpile today. Did I say victim? I mean recipient. These kids need love so fiercely. So what if I was knocked over and mauled? I wish I could explain the feeling of walking into a nursery full of kids and them surrounding you in a second on all sides, arms outstreched, reaching out for love and affection, crying out so that you'll pick them. And when you go to put them down how they do everything in their power to stay in your arms. My heart has been shattered for these kids, and thats why I stay, because putting a smile on their faces, hearing them laugh... its the most incredible feeling in the world!
PRAYER REQUESTS:
- Faith, so that we remember even when aftershocks occur and the out-of-control feeling returns that GOD is in control
- Rest, we are all weary and emotionally drained
- Peace
- Pray that the orphanage can recieve supplies, we were able to get groceries today but they are unsure that we will be getting water
I have been so encouraged by all the messages and prayers, I am so thankful for everyone =)
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Shaking things up!
I'm sure by now most of you have heard about the earthquake in Haiti. I figured that would be the topic of interest, even though there is SO MUCH I could say, I will tell you how yesterday went.
We were wrapping up for the day, putting our last kids back in the nursery and cleaning up the balcony, which is where I was. I was tidying up when all of a sudden the ground shook.... and shook, and shook. They say it only lasted 40 seconds, but it felt so much longer. The house swayed so precariously that I felt like it was going to topple. Up on the balcony, toys were sliding around, people scrambled to grab the kids and then something solid to hold onto. We saw dust rising from the places on the mountainside where houses were collapsing. When it finally stopped, we were all silent for a minute until the shock settled and we started all talking at once. We went to the nursery at once to calm the kids, who were all of course very frightened and crying. I think we all had three in our arms. When we finally went downstairs, we saw evidence of the destruction. The dish cabinet was open and there was broken glass everywhere. Large appliances had been moved from the wall, and many of the statues littered the floor in pieces. Supper was on the floor.
Miraculously, there was no damage to the building itself, and all of the fulltime workers, volunteers, families, nannies and children came out unscathed, except for being very shaken up.
We took all the kids outside on the driveway, throwing down blankets and towels and congregating. We sat there for probably four hours, while the nannies sang praises in creole. (The only one I recognized was How Great Thou Art) We held the kids until they started falling asleep. I held a few different kids, but ended up with one little girl. It took a while but she eventually fell asleep. I was going to put her down with the other kids but when I tried, she woke up and her face crumpled. She clawed at my arms and tried to get back into my arms, and my heart broke so I picked her up again. When I had to drop her off at the nursery at the end of the night, I left with a heavy heart.
It was a long night to say the least. I am on the top bunk of an already rickety bunker and the aftershocks woke me up frequently. Today we are not working with our kids, rather we are in the nursery as most of the nannies have gone home to be with family.
Keep praying for us and the rest of Haiti... it's devastating to see how little these people had taken away in less than a minute!
If I learned anything from this experience, it is this: When the earth trembles and building topple, my God remains unshaken. And so my faith remains in the hands of God, unmoved and unwavering because He kept us safe. He was here when the ground shook.
We were wrapping up for the day, putting our last kids back in the nursery and cleaning up the balcony, which is where I was. I was tidying up when all of a sudden the ground shook.... and shook, and shook. They say it only lasted 40 seconds, but it felt so much longer. The house swayed so precariously that I felt like it was going to topple. Up on the balcony, toys were sliding around, people scrambled to grab the kids and then something solid to hold onto. We saw dust rising from the places on the mountainside where houses were collapsing. When it finally stopped, we were all silent for a minute until the shock settled and we started all talking at once. We went to the nursery at once to calm the kids, who were all of course very frightened and crying. I think we all had three in our arms. When we finally went downstairs, we saw evidence of the destruction. The dish cabinet was open and there was broken glass everywhere. Large appliances had been moved from the wall, and many of the statues littered the floor in pieces. Supper was on the floor.
Miraculously, there was no damage to the building itself, and all of the fulltime workers, volunteers, families, nannies and children came out unscathed, except for being very shaken up.
We took all the kids outside on the driveway, throwing down blankets and towels and congregating. We sat there for probably four hours, while the nannies sang praises in creole. (The only one I recognized was How Great Thou Art) We held the kids until they started falling asleep. I held a few different kids, but ended up with one little girl. It took a while but she eventually fell asleep. I was going to put her down with the other kids but when I tried, she woke up and her face crumpled. She clawed at my arms and tried to get back into my arms, and my heart broke so I picked her up again. When I had to drop her off at the nursery at the end of the night, I left with a heavy heart.
It was a long night to say the least. I am on the top bunk of an already rickety bunker and the aftershocks woke me up frequently. Today we are not working with our kids, rather we are in the nursery as most of the nannies have gone home to be with family.
Keep praying for us and the rest of Haiti... it's devastating to see how little these people had taken away in less than a minute!
If I learned anything from this experience, it is this: When the earth trembles and building topple, my God remains unshaken. And so my faith remains in the hands of God, unmoved and unwavering because He kept us safe. He was here when the ground shook.
First Impression...
If anything was eye-opening to me, it was my first experiences in Haiti. Even flying over before we landed, you fly over the slums and you see just how little people really do have, and how the conditions are so different from where we live. When we landed, I can only describe the airport as modest and simple. We were greeted by a band playing lively music, white walls, plain tiles. No McDonalds, no Starbucks, nothing but a sign pointing to Immigration. (It was kind of nice being able to find my way around that easily!) As soon as I had my luggage, which was chaotic in itself, I left the secure area and was just bombarded. The first feeling was how badly I stuck out, being a minority had never been an issue and now my white skin was like a neon sign saying STARE AT ME. I was consumed by people asking if I needed help with my bags, if I needed a taxi, jabbering at me in creole which I don't understand. I stepped outside the airport and wished I hadn't. There were people everywhere and everyone was trying to get me to go with them, and I was afraid I wasn't going to find the GLA rep. Luckily, he found me, I guess he picked my confused face out of the crowd. We got in the vehicle that would get us to the orphanage, and I was struck by my surroundings. Now, I am going to attempt to describe what cannot be described, and to paint a picture of a street that you can't fully comprehend until you have walked there. The lush, exotic and green vegetation is interrupted by vibrantly colored, but not altogether architecturally sound shops. Concrete walls line most roads, covered in graffiti and littered with so much garbage. The bulding are so different from what you see here. Some are concrete, some are merely a stone wall covered with a tarp held up by sticks. Animals roamed at free will. And people! People are everywhere... in shops, outside walking, outside along the road selling whatever they can to make a living. They jump onto moving openbacked vans crammed with twelve people already. Moped weave in and out of traffic very dangerously. Driving in Haiti was perilous. The streets are very narrow and busy, and road rules are not considered. The road to the orphanage is especially steep and narrow, with a view of the mountainside stacked with small, snugly fit together houses.
Everything was in disrepair, covered with garbage, or in shambles, but even so, I found it breathtakingly beautiful.
Everything was in disrepair, covered with garbage, or in shambles, but even so, I found it breathtakingly beautiful.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
My story.
For anyone who doesn't know me, my name is Jessica. I am heading out to volunteer at God's Littlest Angels Orphanage in Haiti... in FIVE DAYS! I feel like it was just seven months ago when I was thinking this trip was ages away, and now, just like that, its here!
Before I go, I have posted this for anyone reading my blog who was curious to get inside my head to see what brought me to this point, and what prayer requests I have as I prepare to leave.
It all started back in a galaxy far, far away.
No, I lied. It started in grade twelve, when my future was scary and uncertain and I was restless everytime I thought about what career path I wanted to pursue. I still to this day am unsure of where I fit in the job puzzle, but last year it became clear to me that I wanted to take a year off to do something, to have a real experience before I have to settle into the school-career-marraige-kids thing. I wanted to go to Africa initially, but my desire and God's plan were not the same, and of course, His way is always better. I kept my eyes open for other places that God might be able to use me, and soon realized it was staring me right in the face.
I think the first time God's Littlest Angels crossed my mind was when Doug started teaching our Sunday School classes. He wasn't even talking about the orphanage, but it just occured to me in those days that hey... this could be a really cool place to go. I started praying about it shortly after, and GLA kept weighing on my heart and persisting in my mind, so I eventually applied to volunteer and was accepted in June.
Thats where life went completely out of my hands and into God's. Now, with a kind of game plan to shoot for, I decided following graduation to move to Lethbridge and work to save towards my trip. (I chose Lethbridge because I have family and friends that I have worked with at Southern Alberta Bible Camp, so it was kind of a home away from home.) I had given out so many resumes with such little response that it felt hopeless, and I was so overwhelmed. I went down to Lethbridge for an interview with Merry Maids, got hired that day, and was forced to make the transition much faster than I had expected. I had to move in a weekend, set up insurance on the car that my parents gave up for me to use, and start in on this job.
Merry Maids was challenging. Not the work itself, but the people I worked with. I was youngest, and inexperienced, so I didn't get nearly enough shifts to cover even my car insurance. I got very stressed about this. Then one day, my friend Lindsey, who had worked at Sobeys told me that they were looking for a fulltime daytime cashier, and said she would put in a good word for me. This good word ended up landing me an incredible job. I had worked at a Sobeys before, so it was a fairly easy transition, and I was getting forty hours a week - what a God thing! This was the first instance I felt God nudging me to trust Him more fully.
Already stressed about finances, my dad lost his job. This scared me, because I had counted on help from my parents and now it looked like that was out for good. But the one thing that God taught me in this experience was that He is bigger than everything, and my Dad's faith that God had a bigger plan encouraged me.
Sobeys was great, the staff were fantastic and welcoming, and I was actually making money. I found myself growing terribly homesick, but God gave me amazing friends and people that surrounded me and loved me. I feel so blessed for the people that I met and got to know better.
The next obstacle of my trip was the money factor. I don't know about anyone else, but money is one of my biggest sources of stress! God saw me fretting, and I'm pretty sure His thoughts were "Jessica... do you not realize I am so much bigger than any sum of money? That I am holding you in my arms? I will provide!" I sent out a prayer letter, not really expecting anything beyond the prayers of the congregation of my home church which I SO needed! But my church... wow, did they bless me! Not only do I have many people praying for me, but people gave unselfishly and in love. Expenses that I could never have covered on my own were all of a sudden paid, and I was blown away... Here I was, putting God in a box over a measly sum of money, and He had just blown it apart. I finally understand the concept of "MY GOD IS SO BIG", God's provision, God's plan... it has been amazing, and I cannot even explain how thankful I am for the support and prayers I have gotten. Words just fail... and I'm sooooo incredibly grateful! My parents have also contributed so much... taking care of all the little things even when money was tight. I AM BLESSED.
Now, here I am. I leave in five days, and I still find little things to worry about... "Why can't I bring a carry-on? How can I fit everything in this suitcase? What if I miss a flight? What if my mastercard doesn't get here on time? I still need shampoo! ......What if I run out of love?"
I'm flying out on Sunday solo, but yet not alone. I know that whatever airport I land in, whatever crazy situations I might find myself in, God is going to be walking beside me. He'll be holding my hand (which I will most likely have a death grip on!) And He will provide for my weakness, all that I am lacking, all the impossibilities... they just are nothing compared to His power. I haven't even left and I have already seen evidence of that! I can't wait to see what He has in store for me!
As Sunday comes, pray for me.
-Pray for strength, not my human strength but for God's refreshment and renewing, especially in what will be an overwhelming first week.
-Pray for love, so that I can be an outlet of God's unfailing, amazing love for these kids who crave it
-Pray for safe travels, me in an airport trying to figure everything out still makes me giggle nervously!
-Pray that I will not totally slaughter the language (haha) and that the language and culture do not act as a barrier
-Pray that I will be willing. I don't know what experiences or obstacles lie ahead, but I want to be stretched and I want God to be the center of everything I do.
and finally, pray for God's power to rest on me and the other volunteers. Haitian culture practices voodoo, and spiritual warfare can be a struggle. Pray for strength to combat that!
I think I have done enough rambling for one post. I don't know how often I can update this, but I do hope to keep you guys who have done so much for me involved. I am so grateful for you guys!
God bless you all =)
Jessica
Before I go, I have posted this for anyone reading my blog who was curious to get inside my head to see what brought me to this point, and what prayer requests I have as I prepare to leave.
It all started back in a galaxy far, far away.
No, I lied. It started in grade twelve, when my future was scary and uncertain and I was restless everytime I thought about what career path I wanted to pursue. I still to this day am unsure of where I fit in the job puzzle, but last year it became clear to me that I wanted to take a year off to do something, to have a real experience before I have to settle into the school-career-marraige-kids thing. I wanted to go to Africa initially, but my desire and God's plan were not the same, and of course, His way is always better. I kept my eyes open for other places that God might be able to use me, and soon realized it was staring me right in the face.
I think the first time God's Littlest Angels crossed my mind was when Doug started teaching our Sunday School classes. He wasn't even talking about the orphanage, but it just occured to me in those days that hey... this could be a really cool place to go. I started praying about it shortly after, and GLA kept weighing on my heart and persisting in my mind, so I eventually applied to volunteer and was accepted in June.
Thats where life went completely out of my hands and into God's. Now, with a kind of game plan to shoot for, I decided following graduation to move to Lethbridge and work to save towards my trip. (I chose Lethbridge because I have family and friends that I have worked with at Southern Alberta Bible Camp, so it was kind of a home away from home.) I had given out so many resumes with such little response that it felt hopeless, and I was so overwhelmed. I went down to Lethbridge for an interview with Merry Maids, got hired that day, and was forced to make the transition much faster than I had expected. I had to move in a weekend, set up insurance on the car that my parents gave up for me to use, and start in on this job.
Merry Maids was challenging. Not the work itself, but the people I worked with. I was youngest, and inexperienced, so I didn't get nearly enough shifts to cover even my car insurance. I got very stressed about this. Then one day, my friend Lindsey, who had worked at Sobeys told me that they were looking for a fulltime daytime cashier, and said she would put in a good word for me. This good word ended up landing me an incredible job. I had worked at a Sobeys before, so it was a fairly easy transition, and I was getting forty hours a week - what a God thing! This was the first instance I felt God nudging me to trust Him more fully.
Already stressed about finances, my dad lost his job. This scared me, because I had counted on help from my parents and now it looked like that was out for good. But the one thing that God taught me in this experience was that He is bigger than everything, and my Dad's faith that God had a bigger plan encouraged me.
Sobeys was great, the staff were fantastic and welcoming, and I was actually making money. I found myself growing terribly homesick, but God gave me amazing friends and people that surrounded me and loved me. I feel so blessed for the people that I met and got to know better.
The next obstacle of my trip was the money factor. I don't know about anyone else, but money is one of my biggest sources of stress! God saw me fretting, and I'm pretty sure His thoughts were "Jessica... do you not realize I am so much bigger than any sum of money? That I am holding you in my arms? I will provide!" I sent out a prayer letter, not really expecting anything beyond the prayers of the congregation of my home church which I SO needed! But my church... wow, did they bless me! Not only do I have many people praying for me, but people gave unselfishly and in love. Expenses that I could never have covered on my own were all of a sudden paid, and I was blown away... Here I was, putting God in a box over a measly sum of money, and He had just blown it apart. I finally understand the concept of "MY GOD IS SO BIG", God's provision, God's plan... it has been amazing, and I cannot even explain how thankful I am for the support and prayers I have gotten. Words just fail... and I'm sooooo incredibly grateful! My parents have also contributed so much... taking care of all the little things even when money was tight. I AM BLESSED.
Now, here I am. I leave in five days, and I still find little things to worry about... "Why can't I bring a carry-on? How can I fit everything in this suitcase? What if I miss a flight? What if my mastercard doesn't get here on time? I still need shampoo! ......What if I run out of love?"
I'm flying out on Sunday solo, but yet not alone. I know that whatever airport I land in, whatever crazy situations I might find myself in, God is going to be walking beside me. He'll be holding my hand (which I will most likely have a death grip on!) And He will provide for my weakness, all that I am lacking, all the impossibilities... they just are nothing compared to His power. I haven't even left and I have already seen evidence of that! I can't wait to see what He has in store for me!
As Sunday comes, pray for me.
-Pray for strength, not my human strength but for God's refreshment and renewing, especially in what will be an overwhelming first week.
-Pray for love, so that I can be an outlet of God's unfailing, amazing love for these kids who crave it
-Pray for safe travels, me in an airport trying to figure everything out still makes me giggle nervously!
-Pray that I will not totally slaughter the language (haha) and that the language and culture do not act as a barrier
-Pray that I will be willing. I don't know what experiences or obstacles lie ahead, but I want to be stretched and I want God to be the center of everything I do.
and finally, pray for God's power to rest on me and the other volunteers. Haitian culture practices voodoo, and spiritual warfare can be a struggle. Pray for strength to combat that!
I think I have done enough rambling for one post. I don't know how often I can update this, but I do hope to keep you guys who have done so much for me involved. I am so grateful for you guys!
God bless you all =)
Jessica
One set of footprints makes for a lonely walk.
A suitcase in each hand, I walk alone the dusty road. The sun beats down on my back and blazes over the yellow, thirsty fields without mercy. Sweat pours down my face as my body desperately tries to cool itself, but there is no shadow from the scorching sun, there is no rest for my weary feet. But I walk on.
I stumble in exhaustion. My mind and feet are unconnected, my thoughts too disjointed to lull a response from my tired feet. The suitcases in my arms fall, and I lay sprawled in the dust, hoping Death doesn't tarry on his way to meet me. He must have arranged an appointment for us long before I began this journey, and will be pleased at the lack of fight left in me. I will be easy to snatch the breath from and bury in the contents of my suitcases, a mere distraction from the schedule he tends.
A shadow falls over me. Expecting Death, I close my eyes tightly, but minutes fall away before I realize Death has not claimed me. Instead, a man, unextraordinary in appearance and yet just as fascinating, blocks the sun from overhead, and I bask in the relief. He peers down at me, and asks me "Why are you on the
ground?"
"I can't go on anymore" I state simply.
He looks to me, and then to me suitcases.
"What is so important to you that you must take it with you?" He murmurs as he reaches to unlatch the smaller of the two.
"NO!" I shriek, and with a rush of fear-inspired energy, I beat him to the suitcase.
He raised an eyebrow.
"May I?" He asks softly.
"You most certainly may not!" Doesn't this man understand privacy?
"Please?"
Apparently not.
"Why do the contents of my suitcase intrigue you so?" I ask, making sure he feels the sting of my indignition. The nerve of this man, believing the contents I carry should be any concern of his.
"I just wonder what is weighing you down." He replies.
My defense falters, and my hardened eyes turn away from his face.
"You don't want to know." I whisper as my eye betrays a tear.
He catches it on the tip of his finger and says gently
"I do."
I know he means it. And his sincerity rings in his words, and I know if he see's the contents of my load, he will not exploit me, he will not judge me, he will not be disgusted.
And so he unlatches the small suitcase, and he pulls out the the crumpled fear that I have thrown inside hastily. He seperates the anxiety and worry and he smoothes them out, and then, to my dismay, he pulls them over his head.
Wordlessly, I watch him as he opens the larger, and the stench of my shame, guilt, secrets and pain fill the air. He wraps my bitterness around his shoulders, clothes himself in all that I have been carrying. And then, when he is wrapped so tightly in all the things that I have carried for so long, he offers me a hand. And he carries me too.
The sun still beats down, and I know all those layers must be terribly uncomfortable, so I offer to walk beside him, for he has given me a strength I was lacking. And we fall in step, and the dusty road feels shorter, because I have a companion.
The journey has finally, truly begun, with two steps of footprints.
I stumble in exhaustion. My mind and feet are unconnected, my thoughts too disjointed to lull a response from my tired feet. The suitcases in my arms fall, and I lay sprawled in the dust, hoping Death doesn't tarry on his way to meet me. He must have arranged an appointment for us long before I began this journey, and will be pleased at the lack of fight left in me. I will be easy to snatch the breath from and bury in the contents of my suitcases, a mere distraction from the schedule he tends.
A shadow falls over me. Expecting Death, I close my eyes tightly, but minutes fall away before I realize Death has not claimed me. Instead, a man, unextraordinary in appearance and yet just as fascinating, blocks the sun from overhead, and I bask in the relief. He peers down at me, and asks me "Why are you on the
ground?"
"I can't go on anymore" I state simply.
He looks to me, and then to me suitcases.
"What is so important to you that you must take it with you?" He murmurs as he reaches to unlatch the smaller of the two.
"NO!" I shriek, and with a rush of fear-inspired energy, I beat him to the suitcase.
He raised an eyebrow.
"May I?" He asks softly.
"You most certainly may not!" Doesn't this man understand privacy?
"Please?"
Apparently not.
"Why do the contents of my suitcase intrigue you so?" I ask, making sure he feels the sting of my indignition. The nerve of this man, believing the contents I carry should be any concern of his.
"I just wonder what is weighing you down." He replies.
My defense falters, and my hardened eyes turn away from his face.
"You don't want to know." I whisper as my eye betrays a tear.
He catches it on the tip of his finger and says gently
"I do."
I know he means it. And his sincerity rings in his words, and I know if he see's the contents of my load, he will not exploit me, he will not judge me, he will not be disgusted.
And so he unlatches the small suitcase, and he pulls out the the crumpled fear that I have thrown inside hastily. He seperates the anxiety and worry and he smoothes them out, and then, to my dismay, he pulls them over his head.
Wordlessly, I watch him as he opens the larger, and the stench of my shame, guilt, secrets and pain fill the air. He wraps my bitterness around his shoulders, clothes himself in all that I have been carrying. And then, when he is wrapped so tightly in all the things that I have carried for so long, he offers me a hand. And he carries me too.
The sun still beats down, and I know all those layers must be terribly uncomfortable, so I offer to walk beside him, for he has given me a strength I was lacking. And we fall in step, and the dusty road feels shorter, because I have a companion.
The journey has finally, truly begun, with two steps of footprints.
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