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.