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.