Ede Ou?

    One morning the girls of the trip were woken at 5:40 am.  I won't get into the specific alarm but let's just say it was positively annoying so early in the morning.  Anna - our leader - threatened playing Taylor Swift if we wouldn't get out of bed and so we all grudgingly awoke.  The goal, though we hadn't known it until that morning - was to wake up and follow the life of a woman who worked at the compound.  The workers begin at six, and so did we.  Dishes were the first step.  Scrubbing, rinsing, drying.  All in all not too bad of a job, even at six in the morning.  Next we did laundry.  This was a bit more of a challenge.  The Haitian women have a very strategic system for cleaning their clothing.. one that involves a specific type of scrubbing and a great deal of soap.  Needless to say by the time they finished showing me how to do it and correcting my mistake, my knuckles were raw from the scrubbing.  We finished all of the laundry though and then cooked breakfast. 
     We also did chores like sweeping, mopping, and general tidying.  We hung the clothes on lines to dry.  We cleaned after lunch and stayed up late that night doing dishes.  I began to wonder when - if ever - the Haitian people sleep.  Following them around for a day was a rude awakening.  They work hard... not so hard that they can't ever rest, but harder than we're used to in America.  I get home from an eight hour shift at work and I'm pooped, even yet I've got a substantial amount of money in my pocket.  In Haiti, the women work that hard just to keep their homes in order.  Even yet they insist on joking and playing while they work.  Their humor always made me smile. 
     So after that day I made it a habit to frequently approach them and ask "Ede ou?" ... Help you?  They often laughed me off, knowing how little I would be capable of helping with, but just as often they would nod and give me something to do.  It felt good to know that I was contributing.  Since returning to America I've tried to keep that attitude.  While people rarely slave all day just to tidy their homes, there are definitely ways that we can help those around us.  Whether it be at work, school, home, or the grocery store, an attitude to help will always find opportunity.  Try it out for a day.  Look for places to help and things to do everywhere you go... with everyone you meet.  If anything it will make you grateful for all the ways you don't need help.  We have a lot in America; the great thing is that the more you have, the more you can give. 

The Children

    Before I begin, I have a warning for you: there is no possible way to accurately convey what I experienced.  I have so many stories, but even if I could sit you down, if you could see my face and hear my voice, if you could feel the depth of emotion in me, even then you wouldn't understand.  Haiti is something that will never be experienced second-hand.  Even still, I'll do my best to recap. 
   Just for background information, we visited the children at the orphanage and feeding center multiple times during our visit.  The orphanage is pretty self explanatory but you may not know what the feeding center is.  Parents bring their children there when they can't feed them.  They leave them behind for six months and do not visit, the catholic nuns at the center give the children protein and special formulas to end their malnutrition.  Most of the children are sick as well; the workers take care of their diseases and treat them the best they can.  After their six months are up the children are returned to their parents, no matter their physical condition.  Usually the parents take them back, but not always.  If not, they are transferred to an orphanage. 
     So we spent three hours with these children four or five times while we were in Haiti, and suffice it to say we fell in love.  They have a love that exceeds all circumstance and joy that trumps all fear.  Most the children laugh and run and play... but not all.  There are those who won't play, who won't hug and sing.  My heart broke every time I looked at them because I knew.  I knew the reason they just sat: because something happened to them, so awful that they are too broken to accept love.  Those were the children I just wanted to pick up, squeeze, and tell how much I loved them, and how much Jesus did too.
    A few times I did just that.  Sometimes I was met with little response, but I broke through with one of my little friends named Kiki.  Not only was Kiki small, reserved, and sad-looking, he also was the center of the other children's teasing.  Now the bullying in Haiti is not nearly as bad as we see in America.  In general, the children respect each other quite well.  Kiki, however, was picked on.  I spent hours one day trying to get him to smile... without success.  That night there was a thunderstorm, and Kiki looked a bit frightened or at very least tired.  So I picked Kiki up and I held him.  I held him for a long while, singing softly, rocking him back and forth.  This was a nine year old boy that I was holding, rocking and comforting, but to me he was just a little baby who was never properly loved.  He went home shortly after the storm ended, and I made one of the older boys promise to walk him home safely.  I thought that might've been the end of Kiki, but the next day he returned with his sister.  This Kiki was not like the other.  He was still reserved and quiet, but he smiled more frequently and hesitated less. 

     Kiki was just one of the many children in Haiti with whom I fell in love, but he taught me a lesson.  The children of Haiti have beautiful souls, but they have incredible wounds.  Pursuing them is worth every risk, and every minute.  Kiki was much like we are in America, towards God.  He was wounded in the past.  It kept him from accepting and giving love freely.  He was too frightened to trust someone he didn't really know.  Yet just as I relentlessly pursued and love him, so God does with us.  He does not hesitate or hold back; He loves us with an undying passion.  All we have to do is let Him hold us to realize His perfect love, and our need for it. 

Try

     If I'm to be completely honest with you I've sat here for twenty minutes, drumming my fingers, trying to think of something to say.  Now I am rarely at a loss for words, but at the moment I just cannot think of anything adequate.  Three days ago I got off a plane in Chicago, all too aware that I was going home, and wishing that I wasn't. 
    Ten days I'd spent in Haiti.  Ten days with eleven other Christians like me.  The trip was nothing like I expected it to be.  Nothing in Haiti is as you expect it, other than the extreme poverty.  Since leaving, I have an ache in my chest that has yet to decrease... I'm beginning to doubt that it will until I'm once again standing in the beautiful landscape of Hinche, Haiti. 
     Though there is no possible way I can accurately describe my experiences in Haiti, I will describe a few of our specific days because there is so much to learn for you.... there is so much I've learned.  As those posts come please read them with the mindset that you'll never understand, not until you visit yourself.  Keep an open mind, nothing I post is fictional though it may seem to be. 
      There's not much left to say.  The people of Haiti stole my heart.  They love in a way few Americans understand, much less practice.  They serve first, play second, complain never.  Their faith is astounding, obedience miraculous, compassion breathtaking.  I would return in a heartbeat given the opportunity.  As it is I am in America for a while, but my mind still lingers in that beautiful land.  So read on with care, if you allow, these next few posts just might impact you. 

Bring on the Haitian Heat

    So I've been going on missions trips all my life, but this ten day trip to Haiti is going to be unlike any previous trip I've taken.  Not only is this my first official time out of the country, it is also my first time experiencing extreme poverty; go figure, we don't have a whole lot of that in America.  We start off the trip with about fifteen hours of traveling... I'm sure that I'll learn very quickly that complaining doesn't help a thing.  Then we have a week or so planned with everything from working in the fields of an orphanage, to cooking with a Haitian woman, to giving fluorides to children. 
    While I can honestly say that I have no idea what to really expect from this trip, I am so incredibly excited for what the Lord is going to do.  Besides that, I'm most looking forward to dancing and worship God with the freedom of Haitians in church!!!   Color me pumped 'cause I'm going to Haiti!!!!!!!

Learned and Lifested

    This past week for me was spent partying at the musical festival Lifest in Oshkosh, Wisconsin.  While I could share many the experiences I had: chatting it up with an up&coming band Loftland (they gave me a free poster), jumping up on a table for a band to sign my Chuck Taylor, dancing the wind from my lungs at Family Force Five, or meeting some randomly awesome dance partners at a dance party, there is one thing I'd like to single out as most important. 
    Each morning I got up early to go and listen to a speaker named Tiffany Thompson give morning devotions.  Her theme for the week was pearls, and how God blesses us when we are willing to sacrifice for Him.  She told this story of a girl named Jenny (five or six years old) who wanted nothing more than to have her own pair of pearls just like her grandma's. 

       She worked hard to buy a cheap pair from the dollar store, earning quarter after quarter until she'd finally reached her goal.  She ripped open the package with enthusiasm upon receiving it and threw the pearls around her neck, admiring her beautiful appearance.  That evening her father put her to bed, telling her he loved her.  After she repeated the words he asked her a question: "Jenny, will you give me your pearls?".
    With a look of utter shock on her face she replied, "No! These are MY pearls Daddy!  I worked for them!  They are MINE.  You can have my teddy bear instead." 
      He simply shook his head saying, "I don't want your teddy bear.  That's alright Jenny, good night."  The next evening, the sequence repeated itself, this time Jenny offered her Barbie doll.  Her father still declined and left the room.  This repeated itself night after night until one evening Jenny's dad entered the room to find her balling.  He quickly ran up to her and asked, "Jenny!  What's wrong?" 
      With a look of utter despair little Jenny held up her trembling hand in a fist.  "I love my pearls Daddy," she cried, "but I love you more!"  With that, she dropped her precious string of pearls into his waiting hand. 
      Jenny's father smiled at this, and reached into his jacket, pulling out a long velvet box... and inside were Grandma's pearls. 

     When I heard the ending of this story I nearly began to cry, tears welling up in my already moist eyes.  For two reasons, this story impacted me.  First of all I realized that this is what I've been trying to do for the last three years of my life.  My goal has been to give God everything: my most precious pearls.  In return for my sacrifices, the Lord has been blessing me with opportunities, gifts, prayer, support, and so much more.  My life is an example of His blessings.
      Secondly, I reacted with sadness because I realized that this is how most Christians live their lives.  Even those who know God personally, who seek Him in prayer, reading their bible, and worship daily.... they still refuse to give God their pearls.  They may give Him other things - time, money, advice to new believers.  But each of have those few things that we cling to with desperation; as if we are afraid that we can't ever have better.  It could be a job, a relationship, a home, an image.  It is different for each of us, but those things, the ones we cling most tightly to.. those are the ones He desires most from us.  And if we are willing to give them freely to Him, He WILL bless us more abundantly than we can imagine. 
      So I have found a new freedom in Christ, and a new trust in the Lord's promises.  I don't care what logical decisions I should be making according to the world's standards.  I have a God who is asking me for my most prized possessions, and I will give them freely.  I am joyful because I know that I will be blessed for my sacrifice, and  because I already have the greatest confidence I need: that Christ died for me and gave me life eternal.  In comparison to that, any sacrifice seems small.

Switch

    You know that feeling when you finally step off a sailboat after a trip over especially choppy waters.  The ground is almost a savior, it's solid and strong, but the change is almost too sudden; your body is left in confusion.  That was this transition for me.  I went from cooking three meals a day for two young girls and taking care of their every need for most the day, to having next to no immediate responsibilities.  The relaxation, of sorts, is comforting.  Even still it feels too solid, almost unreal. 
    I'm heading off to Lifest this next week in Oshkosh, Wisconsin.  It will be a weekend full of constant friendship, rocking bands, greasy food, late nights, and dance parties... virtually no responsibilities.  I'm so excited!!!!  Lifest is a great opportunity for meeting new people, relaxing, and most importantly: worshiping my God!  I'm sure I'll have stories in a few days about my adventures I'm sure.  Until then, enjoy your weekend!

Easy Feelin'

    So today was the end of my month in the sunshine state.  It was a pretty great day :)  The girlies woke me up pretty early and we finished off a movie.  We hung out for the first part of the day; coloring and playing Barbies.  PB&J for lunch with pretzels and a slice of cheese (tomatoes for Madalyn and carrots for Brynn).  We just spent the time enjoying our last day.  A little later Uncle Pat took the girls and I to the Daytona flea market.  I have to say, it was pretty incredible!  More vendors than you can imagine.  The buildings which, at first, seem separate are actually connected, making it a strange maze of products that are so eerily similar you're sure you've already walked that way.  I bought a few more presents and completed more, still leaving with half the money I brought.  I could have spent all day there. 
    The girls had an art camp earlier in the summer and their work was on display at a local gallery, so the whole family went to look at it.  Afterwards my aunt and uncle went on a date, giving the girls and I one last night to be ridiculous together: we did not disappoint.  We purchased an insane amount of junk food at the grocery store as well as two large pizzas and cheesy bread from Little Caesar's.  We headed home and began to eat... and eat, all the while watching The Lorax.  Afterwards we initiated a special goodnight bedtime ritual.  This was where my fun really began.  First we played "follow the leader" as I sprinted around the house doing and shouting silly things, all the while cleaning up.  Afterwards we did a brief workout - soon realizing that our stomachs were simply too full to exercise.  Then we went upstairs and I read a book to them.  After they brushed their teeth I read them book number two.  Then we had a dance party.  I read the final book following our dance off and then proceeded to start a pillow fight :)  Finally, after we were all pooped, I requested they climb into bed, and we prayed.  Their prayers were sweet - "thank you for Caty being here, I really wish she didn't have to go","watch over Caty, help her to not find a boyfriend 'til she's thirty" - okay, MOSTLY sweet.   Then I sung them a few songs - one being my favorite as a kid: "Peaceful Easy Feelin" by the Eagles.  Afterwards I shut the door as they said their final goodnights.  It was pretty touching.
     Maybe it's the lulling, slightly sad music that I have playing on Spotify right now, but I'm feeling bittersweet about this departure.  In general, I want to go home.  I miss my family, my friends, sleeping in, NOT having to cook three meals per day for picky little girls.  I'm excited for the adventures I'll have upon returning...still I'm sad.  As is the human condition, we don't realize quite how much we have until we lose it, or are faced with the reality of losing it.  As I pack my belongings, I'm discovering how MUCH I love these people.  To see parents like my aunt and uncle who are so devoted to their jobs but care a hundred times more about their children, is touching.  They work so hard each day and come home thrilled to see their little dolls.  These children are inspiring as well.  They sing, dance, even eat without shame or hesitancy.  They believe in their dreams, real belief.  I am going to miss their sincere hearts and their gentle spirits, and their couch attacks.  This family has touched me and inspired me.  They've given me hope that families without massive secrets and ugly issues can exist; that hard work and love DO pay off, in their time. 

     If I can say nothing else, let me say this.  I love this incredible family so, so, so much.  I am going to miss them each day.  I have been inspired by them, and I hope that I can do the world some good with what I've learned.  I am so very thankful for the opportunity, the commitment, the service, and the love this family gave me.  I couldn't have asked for a better way to forge ahead in my changing the world.  *And as for Madalyn and Brynn - thanks dearies, I couldn't have asked for a better goodbye celebration ;) *