Haiti is a land of contrast. It is a land of crippling poverty and breathtaking gorgeousness. Deep, swift kindnesses and sharp, slashing cruelty. Inventive minds and debilitating habits. Brilliant sunshine and ravenous nights. It is a land of sorrow and faith, truth and lies.
We have seen many things here. One of our favorite translators was shot just above his heart a couple years ago because of his cell phone. A pastor lives in and out of poverty so he can provide for the 22 homeless girls under his care. A father loses his mental stability when his two daughters are killed in the earthquake. A small girl is spared from death when the father who is planning to kill her because he can't feed her climbs into the same tap-tap as a man who runs an orphanage. A pregnant woman in a tent community asks for food to feed herself and the baby inside her. A woman's heart crumbles when her husband dies, leaving her in charge of more than a dozen orphans. A little girl asks an American to be her mother and take her home.
This is Haiti. This is heartbreak. This is life.
But we have seen more. A local pastor buys souvenirs for an entire team of Americans who came to bless him. A translator who spent the entire day working with us ends the day by washing our feet. A homeless man carries seven chairs into the shade of a tree so every one of his foreign visitors can sit down. A young blind man dreams of preaching the Gospel in all the world. A church takes every movable fan in the building and points them at the group visiting from the States. A 15-year old boy living with his mother in a tent community comes and prays in power for the Holy Spirit to be strong in our hearts.
This also is Haiti. This is heart-ease. This is life.
We have been broken here. We have been blessed. We are beginning to understand what Paul meant when he said, "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." We are learning that Truth does not change whether we're walking the trash-strewn streets of a tent community or the white, wet sand next to the waves. We are learning to listen to the same Voice whether we're in the middle of a prayer walk, riding a tap-tap, washing dishes, or buying a soda. We are learning how to follow the footsteps of Christ in Haiti and in America and in all the world. We are learning how to be Jesus in the midst of contrast. "I can do everything through Him who gives me strength." Indeed, it is our desire to live daily, intentional lives only through the power of Him who gives us strength.
