There weren’t separate days while we were in Haiti. Or so it seemed. Time blended together into one long, fascinating overflow of, “Wow . . . I see God!” Like the night we slept out on a Haitian rooftop under the stars, reading Scripture together and praying that no one would sleep walk off the roof. And that God would withhold the rain. He answered both. The way the kids looked at me with great concern when they saw my flip-flop had broken. Or when the translators talked about their future and the God who knew His plans for them. These are all snapshots, swirling together to form a living, vibrant tapestry of God’s hand in Haiti.
Here is one snapshot.
It was night, and we were all crowded under several large tarps (think of it as a fluid, rain-proof ceiling), sweating, smiling, and listening to the word of God. There were many children, but none quite so dirty as the little girl with short, ratted hair who wound through the white people, giving out hugs. Her name was something like Keysha, and the Haitians said she was crazy. Some kind of mental handicap maybe. Whatever it was, she was undoubtably friendly. And filthy. I didn’t want to know how long it had been since she’d taken a bath.
We trudged home in the rain and went to sleep in our rooms, and Keysha was forgotten. But God does not forget. The next morning, our team met up on the rooftop for morning devotions. In the middle of our worship time, we realized we were not alone. The little girl with ratted hair and mud running up and down her legs had come to join us. Some of us went to talk to her. She didn’t speak any English. We prayed with her. She still didn’t speak English.
So, we got a little more practical. We decided to give Keysha a bath.
And that’s when I saw the body of Christ in action. I saw one of the mom’s in the group take Keysha by the hand and smile encouragingly at her every time she was afraid. I saw one of the translators explain to Keysha that we wanted to help her. I saw the only girl on our team who was even close to Keysha in size and age give up a dress that she’d randomly tossed into her suitcase. God must love random.
And then I saw Keysha in a brand new dress, clean water dripping down her face, grinning. I saw her eyes light up when we gave her a bag of rice and snacks to take home. I saw her close her eyes and start chattering away in a foreign language, a huge smile on her face. They said she was praying. I saw her dig into the bag of food and start handing her snacks out to neighbor kids. Who taught this little girl to share like that?
I saw a child who was crazy, overlooked, and filthy . . . transformed under the practical love of Jesus. I saw the body of Christ become His hands and feet to touch the mud-splattered face of the world. I saw love. It walked and moved and reached and cleaned in the midst of us. It did to her body what He wants to do to our hearts. May we never be the same.
