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.