Introducing my brother

Zick, pictured right, is my brother. After 27 years, I can finally say I have a brother, a younger brother. He asked if he could call me sister. I'm not exactly sure why, but we both enjoy listening to music, dancing, and writing.

On July 22, Zick asked me about what I was writing. I told him that I was writing about my day. I was often seen writing in my journal (a thoughtful birthday present from Amy). He asked if I had written about him; of course I had. I promised to show him what I had written later that day. Much to my surprise the words I wrote were objective, matter of fact. Sure, I wrote how we listened to his ipod while walking the streets of Haiti. We listened to French worship music; he sang for me in English, always interpreting. It was a special moment, a special connection. Listening to my ipod alone feels lonely. Worship music is our mother; God, of course, is our father.

After Zick saw what I had written, I asked him, what I should write about Haiti? What should I know about the country; what could I share with others in America who have yet to visit?

He told me was a writer; what he didn't tell me was that he's a poet. Keep in mind, it took us two days with plenty of interruptions, so transitions may be lacking. This is his response with minimal intereference from me:

Haiti is a good country. It has a beautiful sunset. When someone is taking his time to look at the sunset, he might find a word to express God's beauty.
If someone doesn't experience God's presence, he [should] come to Haiti and let the breezes embrace him. It's like a tiny [part] of God's presence.
There are a lot of trees and each one is marvelous.
The children are so funny. They used to say "blanc, blanc, blanc" when foreigners pass by. They say [foreigners are] wonderful. It's like the flame of love.
Talking about love is the center of the Haitian heart, because they experience God's love and show God's love to others by the way they behave. when Haitian people say hi to someone, he has a smile on his face.
Even if the earthquake touched their mentality or their lives, they stay strong as a lion.
Late at night we can hear some noises, but it's so sweet. We can say like the sound of a bird. Even if there are some sweet noises, it's so calm because the noises are sweet music that enters into each house. It's like Mozart's music; it penetrates everyone as a good morning.
When the sun rises [and the breeze blows], it's good. When the sun is shining, life has a new sense. It might be people go to work or some yelling on the street. It's a kind of way to survive; everything they do they give themselves in it, because they know life has a good sense, even though it's hard to live here. After the earthquake, life is so hard.


You are sick, alone, life has little sense for you, you want to know more about life, you want to know what love means: you can find the answer in a small country. Even if people say it's a poor country, but it's a greater one because you don't need money to live here. The main thing that you need is love, patience. Why patience? Because it's the thing that everyone needs in their life. For instance, you need something and you pray [to] God for [it]. If you don't have patience, you can act without God's will. Patience [to] wait [for] your day. When your day [comes] and [you have what you desired], you will live with joy.
Love is a center of this nation. This country that we described like that is Haiti. The door is open for everyone. You want to experience love? Come and receive. Don't be scared. Don't believe what the news said about [Haiti]. Imagine that you see a pineapple tree and people say, "This fruit is not good," and you never taste one, but you see someone [who], every day, eats one. What will be your reaction? It's a way to say come, and you will see.

Re-entry

Isaiah 51: 12-14
"I, even I, am he who comforts you. Who are you that you fear mortal men, the sons of men, who are but grass, that you forget the Lord your Maker, who stretched out the heavens and laid the foundations of the earth, that you live in constant terror every day because of the wrath the oppressor, who is bent on destruction? For where is the wrath of the oppressor? The cowering prisoners will soon be set free; they will not die in their dungeon, nor will they lack bread.

Adam tried to warn our group about "re-entry" during our last nightly debriefing meeting in Haiti. I did not understand how to heed his warning. As he was talking, I was crying about leaving. Perhaps, I should have known returning would be difficult.

It's been difficult in ways I did not expect. The other night I went out to dinner with a group of people: some I knew, others I met for the first time. We talked about places to go in San Diego, and a girl discussed her past month in Monterey, CA. I had nothing to add to the conversation. I felt trapped in my thoughts. I don't know how to describe the depth of my experience to others, and I don't know how to re-acclimate myself to daily conversations.

Two different friends used the metaphor of coming down from a mountain to describe returning from a missions trip. I was on such a God-high during my 5 days in Haiti that now it's time to descend. I keep telling myself that there are ways for me to serve here in San Diego. God always intended me to descend from the mountain; perhaps with plans for me to return and to see Dorly, Zick, Wilbert, and others again in Haiti. On Wednesday, a friend mentioned that I may never see Zick again. The thought had not crossed my mind. I had assumed that if I returned to Haiti, I'd automatically see Zick and Dorly. Not seeing my friends in Haiti ever again is a thought I refused to entertain in my mind.

How do I live my life in San Diego while remembering the circumstances in Haiti? The two places are on opposite ends of the spectrum: America's economic wealth, Haiti's spiritual welath.

I enjoy writing about my time in Haiti, but I know I'll be sad when I write my last blog. I know I'll be sad when the last of my photos from the trip are posted on facebook. Yet, there are so many books I want to read and blog about. I have future projects to feed my spiritual life as well as access my inner-writer.

Life goes on. The Haitians are living life; they don't let the earthquake keep them in bed in the morning. Sometimes I feel like hiding in my thoughts, listening to Zick's French worship music. Sure, I enjoyed meeting with my group of teens; I enjoyed meeting with Amy and Kristen to walk; I enjoyed jogging with K.D.; I enjoyed spending half the day with a co-worker; I enjoyed jogging by myself around my neighborhood. I'm beginning to enjoy San Diego again, but I feel alienated from other people.

And then I pray, because I know these sad thoughts aren't God's. I don't want to be dwelling. So, today I tried a Bollywood dance class. Tomorrow morning I want to pick up trash in Normal Heights with Adams Avenue Crossing; later I want to go to a Haitian church service in my neighborhood, of all places!

Despite my sorrow, my time in Haiti has inspired me to serve my own community. So, is that what I'm supposed to do: feel inspired by the people I met and act upon such inspiration? Yes, the simplicity of the answer seems to fit God's style. I'm looking for something complex and grandiose when the answer is much more of a reflection of Jesus. Love your neighbors: whether they're in Haiti or San Diego. Look around you, those people are your neighbors. Love them and put your faith in God.

Today I played the "bon soir" game in English. In Haiti, Adam and I joked about counting how many people greeted us in French. "Bon soir" sounds like a song; it sounds so happy and its joy is contagious to all you greet. "bon jour" just doesn't have that same sing-song quality. This morning, while jogging I'd wish people a "good morning." I received at least 6 responses plus one "hello." Perhaps I can add some of the Haitian hospitality in my daily interactions with people. Perhaps, merging Haiti and San Diego will 1. be much easier than I realized and 2. be a much happier experience than I anticipated.

January 12, 2010 4:53 p.m.

Perhaps I should have asked more people where they were when the earthquake rocked Port-au-Prince. Here are a few responses.

"Sumen" was in the kitchen. It was tin, so she and her family were safe [or, at least, that's the connection I think she made]. There was minimal damage to her house, just a few cracks. "Sumen" first words to describe what happened were: a favor from God. She also said, If I'm alive, no matter if entire world collapses.

Dorly was at a friend's house. Initially the earthquake felt small, so he stayed inside the house. Fortunately, as the earthquake increased in magnitude, he as well as everyone else in the house remained safe. Here are my notes from our conversation: Everyone was safe, but many people died in the area--kids. It was difficult to walk in the streets because the streets were full of people's bodies. A few thousand. Quarter million injured. 4:53 p.m. Earthquake hit January 12, 2010, longer than 50 seconds. It started small then increased. He stayed in the house, because he thought it was small. Couldn't make it home. No phone. He heard about his family the day after [they were safe]. Dorly was at the part in the city that was hit the worst. American Theologic School with over 40 people in it that died. Dorly knows more than 40 people who died. God takes care of him.
Haitians had no experience with earthquakes--didn't know what to do. People in streets went inside and buildings collapsed. 1750, 1842 prior earthquakes.

Wilbert, an intrepreter like Dorly, was teaching at a school. He was on the first floor. Everyone was safe.

Isaiah 49: 13
Shout for joy, O heavens; rejoice, O earth; burst into song, O mountains! For the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion on his afflicted ones.

How to help Haiti

Two of our group members went to a conference with other pastors in Haiti. They spoke to the group of pastors, and they also listened to a Haitian pastor speak to the entire group as well. During the debriefing meeting that evening, the two participants described the biblical image the pastor used to describe the situation in Haiti.

Luke 23: 26 As they led him away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus.

When Jesus carried the cross, a man carried it for him part of the way. It is such a powerful image: a man helping Jesus carry His cross during His sacrifice for the entire world. This is what Jesus calls us to do.

Right now, Haiti needs help carrying their cross.

I also spoke with Wilbert, an interpreter for AIM (Adventures in Missions) as well as a pastor. He described a proverb that we all know well here in America: give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.

Wilbert expressed the need to teach Haitians skills. He is involved in a youth ministry; later in the week he was going to teach them how to bind books. His goal is to teach others skills in which they can use to earn money. Part of his ministry is helping people in his community achieve economic independence. It appears that people need to become entrepreneurs in order to make a living.

From my limited experience in Haiti, the best way to help is to work with them in a spirit of collaboration and consultation, reciprocal teaching and learning. While there is much we can teach them; we have much to learn from them about faith in Jesus.

Goudougoudou

"Goudougoudou" is an example of onomatopoeia in Creole. It means "earthquake."

At 5:29 a.m. on Thursday July 22, there was a slight tremor felt in Carrefour. I heard what sounded like a large truck driving around the streets. Dorly screamed something. The girls in my room were already awake, so we ran out of the house as well. I had no idea why I was running out of my room. I was in my pajamas, and I did not grab my glasses. Many people had come out into the streets. I did not feel the earthquake, but "goudougoudou" sounded like a truck to me.

Pastor David told us not to worry.

During breakfast, Mary and I sat with Dorly. After sharing what happened during the earthquake in January, he told us: In the countryside, two mountains touched. There was an expression in Haiti, "Two mountains never touch," but the earthquake changed that.

Mary shared an Iranian proverb: God gave the problems to the mountains, but they wore away, so He gave them to man.

Mary thought for a minute, then said, We're stronger than mountains, possibly because we touch.

Galatians 6: 2
Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.

The earthquake has changed Haiti, just like I have been changed by the Haitians who touched my life.

A Haitian Welcome

The concept of "home" fascinates me. Upstate New York is my home. I've made San Diego my home. Is God adding another home to my list?

When meeting the interpreters in Haiti, they often said, "I am so happy to have met you." At first, I attributed it to a second language issue. While talking with them, I realized it was a genuine sentiment. It was not a mistranslation of "nice to meet you;" they knew exactly what they were saying.

Dorly would say to me, "It is a blessing to know you; it's a blessing." I was surprised to hear such a reaction. Sure, I'm wonderful, but even my ego is not that large.

In America, "nice to meet you" is an automatic phrase used. I feel like I often cruise on auto-pilot when meeting new people in San Diego. Small talk can be painful and seems more like a chore than a delight. It's always safe to ask someone in San Diego where he or she is from, because it's a transient city. Few people are from San Diego. I enjoy meeting new people, but I'd prefer to skip the pleasantries and talk about something real.

In Haiti, they take "nice to meet you" to the next level, and they mean it.

While trying to process this gift of welcoming, I thought of Jesus. He wants us to greet everyone we meet as if it's a blessing to know them. People who enter our lives are not on accident. From meeting your best friend to your waiter at a restaurant, God introduces us to people. The people we meet are a gift from God.

With such an inviting atmosphere and feeling filled with God's presence, it's no wonder Haiti began to fill like home.

My last night in Haiti, I sat with Dorly on the steps that were outside of the house. I told him, "Haiti feels like home." I saw a small animal dashing downstairs. "Was that a cat?" I asked. He responded, "Yes."

I had not seen a cat in Haiti all week. God uses cats in my life to communicate to me. (I swear I'm not a crazy, cat lady!) He will often send a cat to comfort me as I walk around a neighborhood. While I was sad about leaving Haiti, I cannot help but wonder if He was confirming this feeling of home. Will I return to Haiti? Will God continue to use me to serve my friends in Haiti? I know He knows the answers to these questions, so, for now, I'm content to wait and see.

7.23 Prayers of Healing

This story actually begins Sunday July 18 in Albany, New York. Cathie and Patti invited me to their church service Sunday morning. I knew my parents would not attend, but I really wanted to go. My parents agreed to drop me off at church and then go out to lunch together afterward.

I was thankful for an opportunity to go to church before I left for Haiti. A lot of the themes in my prayer life were echoed during the service. I knew God wanted me to be there; I was grateful to spend time with Him.

This is what I wrote the evening of July 18: I must write about church this morning. I met Cathie and Patti at Christ Church Episcopal. We were prayed for by the pastor as well as the congregation. During the time to share experiences with Jesus, a man shared a story about prayer walks (?) on Friday evening. A woman named Jen felt that someone had right hip pain. She asked a couple if one of them had hip pain. The woman said yes. Jen touched her hip and prayed over her. With time and prayer, the woman's hip pain was gone. It was a glorious moment for God! Toward the end of the mass, the man who shared the story came up to Cathie and I. He told us to take his hand with both of ours. He said the gift of healing could be passed between people. We only had to ask. He began to pray and mentioned the gift of healing. I asked for the gift of healing and immediately I felt heat travel through my arms then to my core. I've asked the Holy Spirit to help me be silent, so I can listen and to be bold when I hear God's will. I ask to be removed from all that I do. May God use me fully. May He fill me up and pour out His love in Haiti as well as every day. I am humbled at the possibility of healing others through God. He'd use me for such a task? I've asked to remove myself so anything I do is attributed to God alone. Like Mother Teresa, who said the work was never hers. Whatever my body does in Haiti, it is not mine. It is God's alone.

Needless to say, while I was in Haiti I was looking for opportunities of prayerful healing.

On the morning of July 23, Adam, Kristen, Joel, Ally, Zick, Ernst, and I walked around a tent city. We met people and asked to pray for them. This is what I wrote about the experience: Then we met Vanessa, Dahlia, and their baby. I talked with them. Vanessa asked for prayer, because she was sick. I put my hand on her shoulder and prayed for her. My hand felt warm. I trust God to heal her. I will continue to pray for her. Then we met Alisha and her mother Geraldine. Alisha was under debris after the earthquake. She has a fever. The medicine has not helped. I prayed for her, then Ally prayed for her. Then we found out that Alisha needs surgery. Something is swollen near her pelvis. I prayed for her again.

When praying for Vanessa and Alisha, I felt led by the Holy Spirit. The words did not always flow like water, but it felt natural. I will continue to pray for Alisha and Vanessa. I trust God is healing them and protecting them.

I also prayed for a woman named Michelle. She asked we pray for her family, to keep her strong in God, and to be protected. Praying for her felt natural. It was such a blessing to walk through the tent city and pray for the people we met. They shared part of their life with us. We are all connected through Jesus--to God and to each other.

Please join me in praying for Vanessa, Alisha, and Michelle. Consider going to Haiti to live in God's presence and to make new friends in Christ.

[photo credit: Adam McLane; the picture is of me with my hand on Alisha's head]

Learning to Pray

The night of July 20, we all went downstairs to worship with Pastor David, his family, and anyone else who was around. People kept coming out of a room like a clown car. There were no formal introductions. They sang songs for us accompanied by drums and a metal instrument that looked like a rocket ship. It was beautiful. The pastor's wife led the singing. That night I wrote, The songs were rich and loud and had a lot of rhythm--a lot of soul. They sang boldly and with a genuine heart of praise.

Upon further reflection of the experience, I wrote this the morning of July 21: In worshipping with the Haitians, I realized I do not know how to pray. The pastor asked them to pray and words immediately poured out of their mouths. No hesitations, seemingly no awkward pauses. It was humbling to listen to--an introduction to a new culture of life and of worship.

This was not my first encounter with a group prayer time. During our prayer walks on Tuesday afternoon, we all prayed in a group for "Sumen" and Jonas and his family. I was uncomfortable. I mostly pray silently. If I do pray aloud, people in the group take turns praying. I was overwhelmed by the barrage of prayer and distracted. As I was praying, I'd overhear someone else's prayer and think how I wanted to say something similar. I think it's a very powerful way to pray. I appreciate how the individual prayer is part of the large group prayer. I had hoped to acclimate to this style, but I don't think I did.

God did give me unique prayer opportunities in a tent city, but it was just me praying aloud or someone prayed aloud after I had finished. More details regarding this experience will be in my next blog post.

Because of the prayer experience in the tent city, I thought I was making progress with prayer.

Until our last night when we prayed for our interpreters group style. I prayed a bit and was distracted a bit. Not much had changed.

I deeply respect those whose prayers flow like a river.

[photo credit: Kansas Corley]

Bible Verses

Pastor David, Zick, and Dorly shared Bible verses while I was in Haiti.

My first night in Haiti (July 20), we went downstairs to worship with Pastor David. He read Psalm 139 in French. My Bible was upstairs, so I read it the next morning. Psalm 139 will always remind me of Haiti. On July 21, verses 10 and 12 stood out to me. The Psalm begins by declaring how perfectly God knows each one of us. It is such a gift to be known so intimately and still loved by God. Verses 10 and 12 address how one cannot escape God's presence. God is always present, and He always guides us.

It is important for me to remember that God's presence is everywhere. In Haiti, I felt so close to God. His presence filled my heart. In the United States, God's presence feels like the electricity in Haiti: flickering. Just because God's presence may feel distant, I know He is right by my side. He is holding my hand. God loves the poor; that's why His presence was so strong in Haiti: an earthly impoverished country but spiritually rich and prosperous.

During the morning of my first full day in Haiti (July 21), Zick and I listened to his Ipod together. After listening to French worship music, which he translated for me, an English sermon started to play. The verse was 2 Kings 2 Elijah Taken Up to Heaven. Elisha asked for a double portion of Elizjah's spirit. Zick spoke about this verse on Saturday (July 24) morning. His testimony will be a separate blog post.

During my last full day (July 24), Dorly showed me his cell phone during our debriefing meeting after supper. It was Psalm 4:8 I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety. This is my prayer for Dorly. Working as an interpreter is hard, constant work. I pray God provides rest for him at night and sustains him during the day.

God is good! All the time!

July 20: Haitian prayer requests

Once I arrived at Pastor David's house, half the team was ready to walk around the neighborhood and meet our neighbors. We went a few houses down and knocked on the door. Zick was our interpreter. We met "Sumen." She is a kindergarten teacher, and she is pregnant. When asked for prayer requests, she thanked God. She asked for a good day for the baby's birth and prayer for her husband. When talking about what happened on January 12, she said it was a favor of God. The house was made of tin; she was in the kitchen. Praise God that my family is well. If I'm alive, no matter if the entire world collapses. There was minimal damage to the house.

Next, we met Jonas, his wife, and two sons. He is a primary school teacher. His son Junior is 9; Carey is 8. He knows they are smart; he hires a tutor to help them. Jonas and his wife asked for prayer to strengthen their spiritual life and to have more unity with each other in marriage. Jonas said, Every family has different needs--if spiritual life is healthy, they can ask God.

What commentary could I possibly add? Their faith is captured beautifully by their prayer requests. Please join me in praying for them.

July 20: A day in the life of a missionary

I was truly blessed to arrive in Port-au-Prince on Tuesday July 20. I was picked up by AIM (Adventures in Missions) staff Clinton White, Matt, and Geftay. Clinton said that we'd run a few errands before he drove me to where my team was staying. I was in no hurry. I was thankful to be in Haiti, and I had no agenda.

Our first stop was a gas station. Geftay went inside to buy cold drinks for everyone. I did not realize that was going to be one of the few cold drinks I had while in Haiti.

I sat in the front, so I took as many pictures as possible. In fact, my camera battery was dying before we made it to Pastor David's house, my home sweet home.

With a full tank of gas, we began our errands. We went to a generator store. It was a large spacious store connected to an auto parts store. There was a guy at the desk in the generator store with a rifle. He was the security guard. We talked with one of the employees. He was dressed in blue jeans and a light blue button down shirt. He was very friendly. Matt told me how the employee had offered to go to the staff house to check out the generator on Friday. We probably spent 40 minutes to an hour in the store.

Then we went to Ecko Depot, otherwise known as Home Depot. We spent close to 2 hours there. Haitians are not in a hurry. There was much discussion. Finally, Clinton was able to buy a part. After he checked out, he had to walk a few feet to have someone compare his merchandise to the receipt. Then Matt decided he wanted to look at generators and buy a few other things. He's in charge of microfinance and had an opportunity to support a neighborhood; they had requested a generator. A wise investment, indeed!

Thus the entire process began again. Matt was able to pick out items such as a flood light and leecord, but there was more waiting involved for the generator. It took 20 minutes for him to be rung up by the cashier. Then his merchandise had to be checked. We drove around to the back in order to pick up the generator. There was another couple ahead of us who were buying toliets. Every box was being opened so the contents could be inspected by the two missionaries buying the toliets. It's not a bad idea, but patience is difficult to maintain. So we waited outside. We could see our generator, but we could not get it until they brought it to us. After we loaded the generator, there was a car blocking our path to leave.

While on our way to the staff house, Geftay suggested we go to a store since it was on the way. He left to buy a rubber hose. He was gone a while; then Clinton left to go find him. I took pictures and did a lot of people watching. There was much to see. People carrying cardboard boxes full of soda on their head, a man urinating, people walking, cars and bikes and tap-taps cruising along. It felt like a parade: constant activity, a steady stream of people. I also tried to take a nap.

Once Clinton and Geftay returned we drove to the staff house. I was able to use the restroom; Clinton made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I took a few pictures, including a picture of our van--the license plate was from the Dominican Republic.

I arrived safely at the house where my team was staying for the week. I appreciated the unique experience of running errands in Haiti. I have a greater respect for missionaries living in Haiti. It requires a lot of patience.

A stronger faith

Monday July 19 taught me to trust completely in God and to depend on Him to provide everything and sustain me. It was not a new concept to me, but I was able to apply the theory in my life.

Meeting the people of Haiti reinforced the importance of depending upon God to provide. They understand this so well. Their faith is steadfast. It is an example to follow. It is inspiring.

Yesterday, I slowly started returning to the swing of things. One thing I decided to check on was my mail. I put it on hold before I left for New York and assumed I resumed delivery for today, July 27. I looked at my confirmation, and I had resumed delivery on Tuesday July 20, my first day in Haiti. My mail was not outside my door. I walked to the post office, listening to French worship music on Zick's pink Ipod. The postal worker told me that he didn't see anything and would have the postal carrier call if any of my mail was found. My heart was a little anxious while I waited for the postal worker to check on my mail. Overall, however, I was not worried. Sure, I was expecting a reimbursment check from work as well as a new credit card since mine expires in August, but I was not worried. If God wanted me to have those things, He would provide them. I figured I'd ask my neighbors if they'd seen my mail.

My faith was in God. He is in control; He plans around my mistakes and my sins. He is in charge of the details and reveals to me what I need to know.

Yesterday, I went to a friend's house for supper. It was blessing to eat a meal with good friends. I also enjoyed meeting the McLane quota of the day. I've noticed I feel lonely since I've returned from Haiti. I was constantly surrounded by people, and I enjoyed their company.

When I returned home last night, my mail was between my screen door and my front door. I think I know which neighbor kept my mail for me; I'm not sure what I can do as a thank-you.

It makes me smile seeing God at work in my life. He truly takes care me all of the time.

Now, I pray that He leads me as I begin the daunting task of writing about my experiences in Haiti. I take comfort in the fact that He already knows what I will write, and, I trust, He already knows how it will influence others to travel to Haiti as well.

An answered prayer: July 19, 2010

Monday July 19 was a difficult day for me; upon reflection, it was also one of the best days I could have ever had.

On July 18, I wrote this in my journal: Lord, drain me of myself and fill me with your love. Pour out every drop on the people in Haiti.

God answered this prayer on July 19.

This was the day I was scheduled to arrive in Port-au-Prince. I spent the night with fellow participant Cathie Gibbons in Albany, New York. We woke up at 4:00 a.m. for a 7:00 a.m. flight to Philadelphia. The night before there was hubbub regarding paying for our extra suitcases that we had packed full of donations. When we checked our bags, there was no charge. It was a beautiful start to the day watching God provide for us. I thought the day would continue to go smoothly.

In Philadelphia, we boarded the plane on time. Then we sat in the plane at the gate for over an hour. We needed to board in Fort Lauderdale at 1:35 pm. I wrote in my journal how I trusted God to have us catch our flight to Port-au-Prince. After waiting for a new route to avoid weather in South Carolina and then waiting for a spot in line to depart, we landed in Fort Lauderdale at 1:53 pm. Our plane was scheduled to leave for Port-au-Prince at 2:20. I was still calm and hopeful at this point. Cathie was sitting further back in the plane and could not get past the gentleman sitting next to her. She's crying at this point. Everyone is standing in the aisle, ready to go. There's an announcment that they couldn't access the gate we were at, so we had to move to a different gate. Everyone had to sit down while the pilot drove to the next gate. At this point, I'm crying. I'm texting Adam to stall; he's texting me to RUN. After I finally get off the plane, Adam suggested I ask the person at the gate to call the people at gate F8, where the plane was leaving from. The employee refused, despite tears and my pleading that they're waiting for us. No such things are done for international flights. Cathie and I walk to the security checkpoint for section F, since we landed in section E. More tears after seeing yet another obstacle. The security guard was probably the only person who genuinely cared that day. He had just left that gate and they were closing the door after he left. You're not going to make it, he said. He used his walkie talkie, but there was no response. He asked another employee to become involved. He told us he couldn't put us through security. You're not going to make it, he repeated. More tears. When someone finally responds on the walkie talkie, the person said that the plane had already left, at 2:17. Three minutes early. It was painful. Cathie and I went to the U.S. Airways ticket counter. We were informed that since we missed our American Airlines (AA) flight we needed to go to the AA ticket counter. Fine. The AA agent told us that we had to return to the U.S. Airways ticket counter to find out why their plane was delayed before she could figure out how to accomodate us. FINE. This time the U.S. Airways agent, pondering why we were sent back, called the AA agent. They tell us that the plane was delayed due to air traffic. Another woman, Vina, missed her flight to Port-Au-Prince as well. She was told that the delay was due to the weather. Either way, it wasn't their fault. We're told that all of the flights are overbooked, but we could try to fly stand-by. We needed to report to the ticket counter at 4:30 a.m. the next day. O.K. Cathie and I decided it would be easier to stay in the airport. We contemplated setting up our tent. We did each blow up a beach ball that we brought to donate. My beach ball was from the Life is Good store; I wrote "God" above "Life" on the ball. Cathie's mother, Patti, calls and informs us that the chances of flying out the next day are slim to none. She suggests we return to Albany and figure out how to get to Port-au-Prince from there or back to San Diego, for me. I was not ready for that option. Cathie was considering it. So, we returned to the ticket counter. I was looking for a ticket to Port-au-Prince. The agent found 2 seats on an Air France flight out of Miami the next morning. We'd be responsible for getting ourselves to Miami. She booked it for us but was waiting for us to confirm that we were going. There would be no fee if we decided against going.
I was a wreck. I was doubting whether or not God wanted me in Haiti. I'm stubborn, so I had to try. I was just so frustrated with how difficult the journey was becoming. I had to try; I had to do all that I could to get to Haiti. The thought of returning to San Diego that day made me cry harder. Cathie decided to go home; she felt like it was what she needed to do, and I respect that. In addition to my back pack, red duffle bag, and my 2 duffle bags to check, I added Cathie's suitcase of donations to my belongings. (The tan suitcase in the picture above) The ticket agent said that saying I had medical supplies could result in a waiver of an extra baggage fee. Cathie and I parted ways.

Luggage carts became my new best friend. I rented a car with a GPS through National. I was able to call for a hotel in Miami with a discounted rate of 64 dollars a night. I wrote down the address from the number U.S. Airways gave me to call in order to have someone book my hotel with the cheapest rate in the area. I put the address in the GPS, but it did not register. I called the hotel and found out that I was missing a word in the street name and the city was Miami Springs. The GPS is ready to go. I make it to Miami, but once I get off the exit it took me an hour and a half to find the hotel that was practically right in front of me once I exited the street. The intersection was at a junction with another road. It was not a clean 4 way intersection. I went straight when I should have turned right. Then there's a bunch of cops outside of a gas station. I realize I need to turn around, but cannot. Cop cars are blocking traffic going the opposite direction. So now I'm driving around Miami Springs with a GPS that is NOT updating my location. I am still relatively calm at this point. I come to a main street and turn right. Praise God, I found South Royal Poincianna Street. The street the hotel is on. I need 1111; I'm at 22. The numbers are increasing, so I'm not concerned. I come to the end of the street (the 900 block) and it is literally the end of the street. I'm back to the main road. I cannot continue going straight because of a median and, again, it's a funky intersection. I go right and then I start seeing signs for the airport. I turn around and go the opposite way for a bit. It can't be this far. I turn around and go left. No, it's not that way. I go back up the way I had come. I drove all over. I'm upset, but I'm ok. God is leading me. He's playing my favorite songs on the radio for me ("OMG" by Usher and "Find your love" by Drake); plus, he had already brought me to the road I needed. I'm trying to update the GPS, but when I re-enter the address it continues to give me directions from Fort Lauderdale. I'm still driving around; it's difficult to turn around because of how the roads were planned. Eventually, I'm crying, yelling, and cursing. I really tried not to curse, but I was at the end of my rope. God, I can't do this; I need you!
Finally, God leads me back to South Royal Poincianna Street. I see a Holiday Inn (I had thought I was looking for a Days Inn) and realize that's probably it. Of course I had to turn around to get to it, the car in front of me was driving slowly, and it's raining. I'm doing my best to control my road rage. I'm in the lane to go straight while checking to see if I need to turn right to access the hotel. Again, it was a mess of an intersection. Praise God, He showed me I needed to turn right. I park in the hotel parking lot. I look for its address, but cannot find it. There's a line to check in at the lobby. I call the hotel from my cell phone. I see a woman answer the phone. I cannot hear her from where I'm standing. As we're talking, I realize her lips are mouthing the responses I'm hearing. I wave and tell her that I'm in the right spot. The gentleman in front of me in line said it took him 30 minutes to find it when it was only a 10 minute drive.
I am relieved and exhausted. A friend helped me see the bright side: what a faith building experience. But I still hadn't made it to Haiti. I slept fairly well. I planned to wake up at 6:00 a.m. so I'd have plenty of time to arrive at the airport before departing at 9:30. I was up at 4:30 a.m. I read a Chapter out of Acts and selected a verse for my devotional. I wrote in my journal; I wrote a letter to Carla, Mallysa, and Melanie to share my experience. After resting and reflecting, I wrote the following:
Abba, I had asked to be emptied of myself. Has that happened? In the car, I wailed how I could not do it. It's true-without you I cannot do anything. Please continue to remove myself from YOUR work in my life (so that you may serve and love others through me). May I truly be your instrument. I've realized that I ask for things without realizing what the prayer answered may look like. I am so thankful for your LIGHT in my life.

But I still wasn't in Port-au-Prince. If my flight on Tuesday did not work out, then I was going back to San Diego since I would no longer think it was God's will for me to go.

There's an inside joke between Adam and I and much of our community group. Fist pumping from the MTV show, Jersey Shores. I have not seen a single episode, nor have I seen the Guidos (pardon my offensive term) fist-pump. Yet, I'm a fan of the fist-pump. I needed to pump myself up. So, in my hotel room before I left my fist was pumping.

God blessed my trip to the airport. He had led me to the hotel the night before with a few detours. Tuesday morning, He made my path direct. I was so thankful for everything. Arriving to the rental car return area, the Jamaican man who pushed my luggage cart up to the shuttle for the airport. He asked me if I thought all the aid going to Haiti would help. I could only respond that I was praying it would. I saw everyone I met that day as a direct introduction from God. He wanted me to arrive in Haiti on Tuesday. My perspective shifted from being a little worried about going to Haiti to THANKFUL that I was going to arrive. That gratitude stayed with me the entire trip, I believe (I'd like to think so).

Before I even arrived in Haiti, I had already shared an important moment with God. I kept my faith in Him. I could not depend upon anything else but Him. He is my rock, and I need daily reminders. I put my faith in God; he takes care of the details.

Haiti: Initial reaction

How has Haiti changed me? I cannot fully answer this question, but here are some initial changes I have noticed.

1. I now have a brother. His name is Zick. His joy, faith, and artistic spirit has inspired me. We made each other smile. "Somebody call 911!"

2. My vocabulary has been influenced by the inside jokes from this trip (see #1). We took it to the berry farm every day in Haiti. I miss listening to French/Creole. I miss walking around the streets greeting people in French. If I greet you with "bonsoir," do not be surprised.

3. I learned to play soccer. Dorly gave me my first lesson, but Zick is my soccer coach. Why did I learn to play soccer? It was a way to connect with the kids. When in rum, do as the rummins do (courtesy of Adam McLane).

4. I felt God's presence. God is STRONG in Haiti! The people have an unshakable faith. When asking people for prayer requests, they almost always began by praising God for what they had. I have so much respect for the interpreters with whom I spoke. They all want to spread God's love and God's message. They are bold.

5. Haiti felt like home. It's incredible how living in a place for 5 days can feel like home.

6. So, what's next? I was asked what my vision was, what God's purpose in my life was. I will be praying for an answer. I will be praying to return to Haiti. I lived life with the Haitian people; for that, I am thankful.

[photo credit: Adam McLane]

Si tuvieras fe...

I never cease to amuse myself.

Sunday and Monday night I slept in the tent I bought for Haiti. I wanted the tent to feel like home. I intended to sleep in it Tuesday night, but some rain got in and I did not want to get my sleeping bag wet. Wednesday was set to be my last night, since I wanted to start packing today.

I've really enjoyed sleeping in my tent. Listening to the bullfrogs and the river is a peaceful, soothing experience. Last night, I didn't even make it inside my tent until after midnight. Within half an hour, I could hear something outside the tent. I turned on my flashlight but could not see anything. Keep in mind, I kept my glasses inside the house so I would not roll over them. Of course I couldn't see anything! I was in the back left corner with my head facing the wall of the tent.

I heard something sniffing the tent on the other side of my head!!!

My heart started racing, and my limbs must have been shaking.

Keep in mind, my dad had asked me what I would do if I heard something outside. Oh, I'll make noise, I said. No problem. Last night I dared not make as sound. Wide awake, I continued to listen. Yes, I could definitely hear something outside.

I turned on my cell phone, which had a low battery, and called the house. Yes, I wanted my dad to come outside with a shotgun to ensure I could safely run into the house, tail between my legs. Yes, I'm that pathetic. I can hear the phone ringing inside the house. My call is lost. I try again, and again, and again. Call failed. It became clear that my parents were not going to check on me.

I lay there wondering what to do. Truly pondering what to do. Then I hear myself say, "Jesus!" The reason I went to bed so late was because I was writing about how God would be my rock in Haiti. He's my rock ALL the time! Honestly, what took me so long to figure it out?

So, I began to sing my favorite hymn from church. I sang it over and over again until I fell asleep. I slept peacefully the entire night. I woke up laughing at my foolishness. I praise God for a good laugh and a reminder that He is my rock, always!

I think it was a fox. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if it were a chipmunk. :)

When Cathie asked me to share a tent, I knew it was a good idea, because I know how much of a chicken I am. This is a perfect example.

It's a fast-paced, uplifting song. I sing it whenever I am scared, usually when I'm walking from my cottage to my car in the alley for an early morning jog with Kristen.

Here are the lyrics to the song I sang (Forgive me for not knowing to whom to give credit.):

Si tuvieras fe como grano de mostaza
eso lo dice el Señor.

Si tuvieras fe como granode mostaza
eso lo dice el Señor.

Tu le dirías a la montaña, muévate, muévate

Tu le dirías a la montaña, muévate, muévate

y la montaña se moverá, se moverá, se moverá.

!Gracious a Dios!

Pre-Haiti Thoughts

I'm fairly certain it is safe to say that Haiti will change me as a person. I welcome this change. I appreciate that I cannot anticipate how I will change. I look forward to meeting God in new ways. I anticipate seeing Jesus show up. I offer myself to God as an unworthy and incapable servant.

I mistakenly think I can prepare for such a trip. God has been preparing me in ways unbeknown to me, but here are some things that I think will help.

1. I've been reading a book about Mother Teresa. Wow! Her dedication to Jesus is astounding. I have no words to express the impact of this book, and I haven't even finished it yet. It is thought-provoking. It is encouraging. She is a role model. She is an ordinary person. She was humble, because she knew her sins. While I think she's a much better person than I am, I don't think she would ever agree. She is a reminder that we are all sinners, and through God nothing is impossible (Luke 1:37). She is an inspiration for ministry work everywhere. She lived in poverty; she lived with the people she served. She lived the way Jesus taught us to live. Yet once she began her ministry, she felt as if she were nobody to God. She felt alone. She had moments of affirmation, but the majority of the time she felt alone. I don't think I could get out of bed if I felt as if God had abandoned me. What did Mother Teresa do? She smiled. Many of the sisters she lived with and worked with did not know her darkness. (If I give you a copy of this book, do not be surprised!)
2. I've spent some time praying about Haiti. I've spent some time with God while reading the Bible and while writing in my journal. Since I've started writing daily devotionals in December, I've felt as if the more time I spend with God or the more time I consistently spend with God, I begin to crave more time with God. I think what has been most beneficial is reminding myself to trust in God. Do I worry about a hurricane? packing? safety? Only until I remind myself that God will sustain me just as he sustains the Haitian people. I am thankful that I can keep renewing my trust in God to provide.
3. I'm trying to read about previous mission trips. This is my first mission trip. I have no idea what to expect. While I understand that very few people know what to expect from this trip, I am reminded of my "leap first, look second" decision-making tactics.
4. What is my motivation to go? A, I must confess my selfishness. I may very well receive more from the Haitian people than I am able to give to them. I'm really trusting God to use me as His instrument. If ever there were a time for me to obey to the fullest, this is it! B, I was inspired by my friend, Adam McLane (www.adammclane.com); he went in February. When he announced he was going, I was a little jealous. It sounded like an amazing opportunity; I was impressed to see Jesus working in his life. I often see Jesus working in Adam's life. It's encouraging to see him respond so readily. When Adam returned from Haiti, he talked about our community group going together. There's one thing I need to explain about my community group. We are this messy group of people who God brought together. I am certain God brought us together, because the group just works. When we get an idea, we will run with it. (I just have to give examples of past endeavors: a sex-trafficking awareness party at a bar, a bonfire at the beach where we fed a seemingly homeless man as well as some people celebrating 4/20 as well as practicing their fire-twirling techniques, breakfast tailgating before church since our pastor made a football comparison between church and the game, and a spam carving contest.) So when Adam talked about going, I agreed. There isn't much I won't do without the support of my community group. C, I need perspective in my life. I am reminded of the following verse:
Luke 18:25
Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.
I often feel like that rich person. I do not want to be that person. Yet as a person living in America, how can I escape being such a person? How can I serve others? How can I use my resources to glorify God? I hope my trip to Haiti is another step in this process. D, I've only traveled to Canada and Mexico. While jogging with Kristen McLane and Amy, I decided that I wanted to combine my desire to travel with my desire to serve God. I explored other options for a mission trip, but the path led to Haiti.
5. What do I hope will happen in Haiti? I have many expectations for not knowing what to expect. My biggest expectation is a deeper understanding of what God meant when he called Mother Teresa to "Come be their victim" (p. 77). He asked her to be a victim of the people in India. Can I be a victim of the Haitian people? Can I suffer for them to show them God's love for them? What is God's plan in this? Will I see others acting as a victim for the Haitian people?

Thursday, Friday, and Saturday I will be packing as much as I can to bring to Haiti. Saturday evening I will attend a friend's wedding. Sunday I will stay with Cathie, a fellow traveler to Haiti. The morning of July 19, we fly to Haiti. We will be on the same flight as Adam and Kristen from Fort Lauderdale to Port au Prince. I have not seen the McLanes in a month, which is significant since we have a weekly quota of at least 3 days per week. I am truly excited to go, even though I realize it may be the hardest 6 days I've ever experienced.

Psalm 18:2
The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

He is an awesome God, and I look forward to experiencing Him in new ways.

Hope Street

A year ago on July 24, I started this blog here in Champlain, NY. This year on July 24, I will be in Haiti. While I will most likely be unable to post a blog to commemorate my first blogging anniversary, I actually believe that being in Haiti IS the best way to celebrate a year blogging, a year pondering God and my daily interactions with Him.

I discovered Hope Street during the summer of 2005 in Saranac Lake. I lived there from May to July (August?) with my best friend. In 2005, I had turned my back from God. My definition of hope was from Greek mythology: I believe it escaped from Pandora's box. Hope can be a friend or a foe. I had seen it be both in my life.

I often visit my best friend in Saranac Lake and always enjoy a stroll up Hope Street, which appears to be a dead end street from the bottom of the hill. It takes a sharp curve to the left and continues as a different street. Hope Street is truly delightful on so many levels. In 2008/2009, my best friend was living between Plattsburgh, our hometown, and Saranac Lake. We visited each other in Champlain, where my parents, and in Plattsburgh.

She has returned to Saranac Lake, so this year I spent 5 days with her in the Adirondack region. I had the opportunity to walk up Hope Street. Five years later, my perspective had changed. My hope was in Jesus. Jesus is sturdy, dependable, faithful, victorious. Hope in Jesus is STRONG!

Returning home always causes me to reflect. It is my retreat. San Diego has developed into a home, yet there are ways in which New York will always trump San Diego. Here's a short list: the small town pace, the small town charm, the mountains, the green grass, the trees, the wild animals (deer, fox, turkey, fish, hummingbirds, racoons, ducks, frogs, birds), the starry sky, the corn fields, the cows, seasonal hot dog and ice cream stands, family, friends, lakes, rivers. That's just describing the summer and in no particular order.

Since I've found a church that I can call home in San Diego (not New York), I have a community in San Diego. It is very different from my community in New York. This summer has made me realize just how much I appreciate my community in San Diego. They are my family away from family. They are my family in Christ. Their influence in my life is profound. The opportunities we have tackled together are meaningful and fun. We live life together and we laugh.

I am bi-coastal. God wants me in San Diego, and I want to be in San Diego. While I long for more time home in New York, I'm also itching to return to San Diego. I am blessed with two homes.

My roots are in New York; my branches are in San Diego. Through God, I keep growing.

Dusting off the blog

Despite the recent influx of postings, my blog has been inactive since April (yikes!). This clearly demonstrates the lack of commitment to my blog.

But I have good news. I have a renewed purpose for this blog. Since I've been reading a book about Mother Teresa (http://www.amazon.com/Mother-Teresa-Private-Writings-Calcutta/dp/0385520379), it has inspired me to write in my journal, which I've then typed/slightly modified here in cyberspace.

I began thinking about how frequently thoughts would sparkwhile reading Tim Keller's The Prodigal God. Yet, I continued to read and now those thoughts are gone. I haven't finished the book, so I will likely start over later this month or the next.

I've decided that I will use my blog to type inspiration when it hits while I read. I also *hope* to read a Psalm a few times a week and write about it.

I leave for Haiti July 19, so I'm sure I will have plenty to write about when I return July 25.

Returning

So, I decided to go to church with my mom tonight. It has been 7 years (plus or minus) since I had last entered a Catholic church. Even though I had started attending church regularly last year, I did not want to venture back.
Going with her was an impulsive decision. I am beginning to think that many of my decisions are rather impulsive. I am not sure if this is reckless or just a way for me to seize an opportunity by not over-thinking.
Regardless, we arrived late. I laughed as I reminded my mom about how my church (which is Presbyterian, but the joke is that only the Pastor is Presbyterian) starts later than scheduled.
As we entered and scouted a pew to sit in, I was immediately reminded of how much of the ritual I had forgotten. My mom kneeled before entering the pew. Oh yeah...I thought as I dipped my knee toward the floor. Since we were late, everyone else was standing. I also stood, but then I noticed my mom was kneeling to pray. Right...How could I forget about praying before mass started. This time I placed my knees on the padded kneeler (there must be a better word for it) and said a prayer. I asked to appreciate the mass, since most memories are riddled with negativity.
Maybe it was because of the heat, but I swear it was one of the shortest masses I have ever attended. The irony is that I always wanted them to be short growing up. After 1.5 hour services at my church, I was almost disappointed it was so brief. The hymns sung were slow and from an organ. The priest led the singing. They sung my favorite: Aleluia. I do not remember why it is my favorite, but it was my favorite as a youngster.
I forgot about the missalette, so I wasn't able to follow along for the First Reading.
After forgetting this and more, I was surprised that I remembered most of the responses for the Eucharist. While writing in my journal earlier, I could not recall a specific line, but I just remembered it: Lord I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.

Lord, I am not worthy. I often read Psalm 51 to confess my sins and rejoice in your grace. Thank you for your unfailing love and great compassion. Thank you for your grace; thank you for saying the word.

In returning to a Catholic mass, I was able to see it with a new perspective. It did not change, but I had. I was able to appreciate the meaning behind the rituals. I was able to see Jesus there.

Mother Teresa: Self

From Mother Teresa: Come be my light

On page 112, Archbishop Perier wrote the following to Mother Teresa, "Try not to put anything on your own in all this. You are His instrument, nothing more." This was written after she received permission to enter the slums of India, yet while she was waiting to begin.

This advice from Archbishop Perier sparked Mother Teresa to write, "to learn how to get rid of self in myself and live intimately with Him. ... Pray for light that I may see and [for] courage to do away with anything of self in the work. I must disappear completely - if I want God to have the whole" (p. 113).

Lord, help me lose myself. Help me remember my role as your instrument, nothing more. My self and my thoughts need to disappear completely. Please, Lord. Help me fix my eyes upon Jesus, and lose myself in Christ.

Mother Teresa: Victim

While sitting in Starbucks on Thursday July 8 (during my 3rd visit that day--it was day 3 or 4 of the heatwave in Lake Placid), I wrote the following while reading Mother Teresa: Come be my light edited and with commentary by Brian Kolodiejchuk, M.C.

On page 73, Mother Teresa wrote "Our Lord wants Indian Nuns, victims of his love."
"Victims" seemed to be a peculiar word choice. Upon reflection, I realized that His love is SO powerful that we are rendered powerless. It cannot be overcome. We are victims in this sense. There is no escaping His love. :)

On page 77, Mother Teresa quotes what she heard from God, "How it hurts to see these poor children soiled with sin...they don't know Me - so they don't want me...how I long to enter their holes - their dark unhappy homes. Come be their victim - In your immolation - in your love for Me - they will see Me - know Me - want Me..."

Again, the word "victim" is used. Be the victim of the people of India? Suffer through sacrificing your life - choosing to live as them in poverty and adopting their culture. In serving others we become a victim to the ones we serve? Perhaps 'victim' is an appropriate term so one does not expect anything in return when serving others: serving others for the sake of that person not the sake of the one serving.

Then, the light bulb illuminated, or my iced chai from trip Starbucks#2 jump-started my brain

Jesus was my victim. Through his sacrifice, because of His love for His Father, I came to see God, want God, and know God.

Serving others is a sacrifice. It is for the sole benefit of the one receiving the service. Jesus called Mother Teresa to suffer as he had suffered--to be a victim for others in order to share God's love.

Then I began to ponder how being someone's victim could apply to my trip to Haiti.

Will I be a victim of the Haitian people? What would that look like? I think many of the people in Haiti know you, God. What difference can I make? How can I be their victim? Sleeping in a tent during hurricane season is a sacrifice on my part, but I don't see how that would demonstrate my love for you. It's a sacrifice of a comfort. How can I be a victim of the Haitian people? How can they see you, know you, want you through my love for you? I trust you will answer this question in Haiti.

Mother Teresa: Silence

I am currently reading Mother Teresa: Come be my light (http://www.amazon.com/Mother-Teresa-Private-Writings-Calcutta/dp/0385520379).
It is thought-provoking.

At the start of my vacation, on June 30, I read the following quote from Mother Teresa, "In the silence of the heart God speaks."

I decided that I wanted silence to be the theme of my vacation, so I could potentially hear God speak. Upon reflection of this goal, my performance has been unsatisfactory. I'd like to think I've had a silent moment or two, but I do not feel as if I'm able to fully quiet my brain.

Sure, I'm caught up on writing my daily devotionals, and I have seen Jesus show up big time since my arrival. But silence? Is that like shavasana at the end of a yoga class? I can never fully quiet my mind during that time, either.

My challenge this week is to silent my heart. Wow, I was ignoring "the heart" part of Mother Teresa's quote. Yes, I definitely need help silencing my heart this week!