Prayers Answered in the Midst of the Rubble
" 1 The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, 2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, 3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion - to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor." Isaiah 61:1-3 NIV
One week ago today, I stood in the place where this picture was taken by my own camera.
Haiti.
A place that seemed far away from the bluegrass hills of Kentucky. A country that many said they would never go to. Unfamiliar territory to a girl who'd never ventured to hit the international mission field.
In a team meeting before our trip, a very wise woman recommended that we research Haiti before we left. Familiarize ourselves with what we might see while we were there. Try to prepare ourselves for the culture shock that would come with landing in a place that had been ravaged by the devastating earthquake of January 2010. Days intended for serving could be lost as we walked around just trying to process what our eyes, ears, and other senses were being exposed to. We wouldn't see the people, we'd be too distracted by the environment.
I did exactly what she said. I researched Haiti. Googled images. Watched YouTube clips. And, I began to pray. It became my fervent desire to not be overwhelmed. To not lose valuable time in a shocked stupor. I prayed time and again that God would help me to see past the surroundings to the people of Haiti. I asked others to lift this same prayer for our entire team.
God indeed hears the prayers of His children.
I won't lie. Haiti still has far to go. I could describe for you a picture of life that seems so far removed from ours that we would feel stirrings of pity. But, I won't. Instead, I want to share with you the beauty of life that I found in a place where the people are making great effort to rebuild.
While I was away, I tried to put pen to paper each evening, hoping that I wouldn't miss catching the memories of the day. Sometimes I jotted bullet point lists of little things that pricked my attention. Other pages are filled with lengthy stories of the lives that I became intertwined with, even if just for a moment. Looking back, it was sweet to see how my entries and my focus changed day by day.
Haiti is lovely...
In the brightly colored paintings and logos that cover so many buildings and walls, and that decorate the elaborate cages on the tap-taps that carry people from one place to another.
In the movement that is always flowing up and down the streets as the Haitian people walk in a stream along the sides of the road, while trucks and motorbikes dance a crazy twisting tangle of speed that defies what I see while traversing in the states.
In the sounds, whether it be the ladies carrying their bowls of goods upon their heads as they call out their wares to possible patrons, or the honking that seems to be the dialect of one driver to another, or the joyful praise that reverberated through the one room church I worshiped in every night.
In the way a Haitian face lights up with a smile as you say "Good Morning. How are you today?" So sincere is their answer and their inquiry of the same. They aren't looking to merely extend a terse greeting as they hurry off to the next thing on their agenda. No, their genuine interest is as warm and inviting as the sun rising in the brilliant blue sky.
In the evening, when city lights aren't obscuring the sky like so many American towns. Instead, during this rainy season, God puts on a light show that reveals the outline of unseen clouds, accompanied with cooling rain, rolling thunder, and gentle breezes.
In the beautiful music of conversations spoken in Creole. In the kind and patient instruction I received on how to say one phrase or another. As well as the entertaining correction when one person would insist that I was not being taught proper pronunciation. Many funny faces were made as I tried to master the art of those French-inspired sounds.
In the way Haitians care for one another. One morning as we got ready to head out to conduct a medical clinic, our pharmacist had shown up with a painful back injury. We lifted her in prayer before we stepped onto the bus, but you could see as she slowly made her way to her seat that she was in agony. She couldn't even sit down, but remained standing as we drove away. One particular jarring bump found her crying out in pain. Immediately, several sets of hands reached around to steady her. The Haitian men surrounding her continued to support and hold her as we continued our journey. I quickly felt one tear after another slide down my face, partially from my sorrow over witnessing someone in such distress, but more so from such an act of outward kindness and gentleness. It was so touching, that it made me long for such interaction in the world in which I live. Why, I wondered, are we so content to live as separate spheres of responsibility, not wishing to intertwine, but instead keeping to ourselves?
In the shared smiles of children as we sang and played outside. In the passing of rocks and buckets of concrete, working side by side Haitian and American to rebuild a school. In the sweet hugs and kind kisses upon my cheek the night before we left. I may not have been there for a long time, but nevertheless I truly felt that we were brothers and sisters, all a part of God's family.
Whenever I think of tragedy in a life, my mind often retrieves the saying that "God makes beauty from ashes." A beautiful promise, to know that pain and suffering aren't the final resting point, but that even in these, God can create a thing of beauty. His Divine Hand knows the full tapestry of life and sees all the colors that are needed to complete His masterpiece.
Yes, life in Haiti is still rough and ragged. But, as many who had traveled to Haiti before me mentioned again and again, it is so much better than it was. I'm not finished sharing all that I experienced during my time there, but for now, this is enough. Pray for Haiti. Pray for the people living there, and that their lives would improve. Pray for God's glory to ring loud and true across the hills and valleys that rise across the landscape. And, that maybe, we would bring some of their beauty into our own lives, trying to adopt their kindness and warmth. For more prayers to be answered in the midst of the rubble.
Haiti.
A place that seemed far away from the bluegrass hills of Kentucky. A country that many said they would never go to. Unfamiliar territory to a girl who'd never ventured to hit the international mission field.
In a team meeting before our trip, a very wise woman recommended that we research Haiti before we left. Familiarize ourselves with what we might see while we were there. Try to prepare ourselves for the culture shock that would come with landing in a place that had been ravaged by the devastating earthquake of January 2010. Days intended for serving could be lost as we walked around just trying to process what our eyes, ears, and other senses were being exposed to. We wouldn't see the people, we'd be too distracted by the environment.
I did exactly what she said. I researched Haiti. Googled images. Watched YouTube clips. And, I began to pray. It became my fervent desire to not be overwhelmed. To not lose valuable time in a shocked stupor. I prayed time and again that God would help me to see past the surroundings to the people of Haiti. I asked others to lift this same prayer for our entire team.
God indeed hears the prayers of His children.
I won't lie. Haiti still has far to go. I could describe for you a picture of life that seems so far removed from ours that we would feel stirrings of pity. But, I won't. Instead, I want to share with you the beauty of life that I found in a place where the people are making great effort to rebuild.
While I was away, I tried to put pen to paper each evening, hoping that I wouldn't miss catching the memories of the day. Sometimes I jotted bullet point lists of little things that pricked my attention. Other pages are filled with lengthy stories of the lives that I became intertwined with, even if just for a moment. Looking back, it was sweet to see how my entries and my focus changed day by day.
Haiti is lovely...
In the brightly colored paintings and logos that cover so many buildings and walls, and that decorate the elaborate cages on the tap-taps that carry people from one place to another.
In the movement that is always flowing up and down the streets as the Haitian people walk in a stream along the sides of the road, while trucks and motorbikes dance a crazy twisting tangle of speed that defies what I see while traversing in the states.
In the sounds, whether it be the ladies carrying their bowls of goods upon their heads as they call out their wares to possible patrons, or the honking that seems to be the dialect of one driver to another, or the joyful praise that reverberated through the one room church I worshiped in every night.
In the way a Haitian face lights up with a smile as you say "Good Morning. How are you today?" So sincere is their answer and their inquiry of the same. They aren't looking to merely extend a terse greeting as they hurry off to the next thing on their agenda. No, their genuine interest is as warm and inviting as the sun rising in the brilliant blue sky.
In the evening, when city lights aren't obscuring the sky like so many American towns. Instead, during this rainy season, God puts on a light show that reveals the outline of unseen clouds, accompanied with cooling rain, rolling thunder, and gentle breezes.
In the beautiful music of conversations spoken in Creole. In the kind and patient instruction I received on how to say one phrase or another. As well as the entertaining correction when one person would insist that I was not being taught proper pronunciation. Many funny faces were made as I tried to master the art of those French-inspired sounds.
In the way Haitians care for one another. One morning as we got ready to head out to conduct a medical clinic, our pharmacist had shown up with a painful back injury. We lifted her in prayer before we stepped onto the bus, but you could see as she slowly made her way to her seat that she was in agony. She couldn't even sit down, but remained standing as we drove away. One particular jarring bump found her crying out in pain. Immediately, several sets of hands reached around to steady her. The Haitian men surrounding her continued to support and hold her as we continued our journey. I quickly felt one tear after another slide down my face, partially from my sorrow over witnessing someone in such distress, but more so from such an act of outward kindness and gentleness. It was so touching, that it made me long for such interaction in the world in which I live. Why, I wondered, are we so content to live as separate spheres of responsibility, not wishing to intertwine, but instead keeping to ourselves?
In the shared smiles of children as we sang and played outside. In the passing of rocks and buckets of concrete, working side by side Haitian and American to rebuild a school. In the sweet hugs and kind kisses upon my cheek the night before we left. I may not have been there for a long time, but nevertheless I truly felt that we were brothers and sisters, all a part of God's family.
Whenever I think of tragedy in a life, my mind often retrieves the saying that "God makes beauty from ashes." A beautiful promise, to know that pain and suffering aren't the final resting point, but that even in these, God can create a thing of beauty. His Divine Hand knows the full tapestry of life and sees all the colors that are needed to complete His masterpiece.
Yes, life in Haiti is still rough and ragged. But, as many who had traveled to Haiti before me mentioned again and again, it is so much better than it was. I'm not finished sharing all that I experienced during my time there, but for now, this is enough. Pray for Haiti. Pray for the people living there, and that their lives would improve. Pray for God's glory to ring loud and true across the hills and valleys that rise across the landscape. And, that maybe, we would bring some of their beauty into our own lives, trying to adopt their kindness and warmth. For more prayers to be answered in the midst of the rubble.
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