It is hard to sum up a trip in a passing conversation. It was a great trip, but what is going to stick? What makes this one stick out? God put together a whole set of moments for me and my team on our trip to Haiti that I do not want to pass by without stopping.
We landed in Port-Au-Prince and our host, Peer Val, the priest of the Eglise Episcopale d'Haiti, and our chauffeur, Jimmy, were at the airport to greet us. We loaded all our luggage onto the back of a pick-up truck and tied it all down. Then we went straight to our home for the week. We stayed in Croix de Bouquets, a northern suburb of the capitol of Port-Au-Prince. Side note: Wikipedia reports this to be the town where Wyclef Jean, Haitian-American rapper, was born. There were no celebrity citings, but if I would have known this fun fact before we left I definitely would have put Killing Me Softly on the Haiti Playlist. We stayed in what seemed like to me a city within a city, a fortress. This inner city was tucked behind a cement wall that was protected with broken glass and barbwire lining the top. Behind this wall was a church, a school, a playground a large outdoor seating area, and a 4 bedroom house with 2 bathrooms.
We did not leave this area without one of our Haitian chauffeurs, but inside this walled area was enough activity to keep us occupied. There were a few kids always hanging around, as they were kids of one of the folks on staff or, it seemed like to me, they had come to live in this safe place through the nutrition program. There were also a few dogs and probably the ugliest cat you have ever seen which affectionately got the name "Snowflake." Although this cat with a pair of eyes that were not the same color and a skeleton of a body was far from a fluffy snowflake.
That first night we celebrated Mona's 16th birthday with a large birthday cake. And this became one of the moments I want to take with me. Mona is not just any sixteen year old young woman. She was actually the first participant in the nutrition program that Carmel started over 15 years ago to serve severely malnourished kids in Haiti. When Carmel presented her with the cake that night she spoke of the beautiful young woman she had become and how she was looked up to in her community. Later that week, we saw a picture of Mona before she started the nutrition program. Like most of the kids in the Carmel's photo album from the nutrition program, Mona was severely malnourished with swollen limbs and a swollen belly prior to starting this program. It was incredible to not only see the picture of Mona approximately 3 months after starting the nutrition program, but also as a young women that is making an impact in her community because of the dream and vision that God put in Carmel's heart.
That brings me to the new beautiful clinic that has just been completed. We found out that this clinic has been a dream of Carmel's since she was eight years old. It is named Lespwa Timoun Clinic (Hope for Children), and we got the privilege of working out of it the first day. The clinic sparkles just like Carmel. It has a white interior that they clean frequently. Before I set up the therapeutic exercise station on that first day they insisted that someone come in and mop the floors. I tried to resist this service, but they insisted.
For the next three days, we took the clinic on the road. At each of our four clinic sites, I got to work mostly with women which is always so fun for me. Most of the women I saw complained of chronic back pain. And thankfully, God provided some awesome handouts in the Creole language made by some of the athletic training students at Merrimac College. A couple months before the trip I read an article in our NATA magazine about this program's partnership with Haiti and, graciously, they lent a copy of their handouts to me so that I was able to pass them out to those I worked with in Haiti as well.
All the ladies I got the pleasure of working with were lovely. They would typically smile and sometimes giggle. We would work through 3-5 various stretches to put into their daily routine to help them combat their back pain. One of my most memorable patients was a woman I met on our first mobile clinic day. From afar when she came walking up to us, it seemed like she was an older lady. But as she got closer, I saw that her left sided foot drop was misleading, and her face looked very young. After a little more examination, I saw that her left hand was contracted in a flexed position. We stole the interpreter away for a few minutes to get a little bit further understanding of her complaints and found out she had no feeling on the left side. Her biggest complaint was the back and hip pain on the opposite side from overuse. I demonstrated a few exercises she could do for what to me seemed like the uninvolved side. I just could not believe that she was content with her limitations on the left side of her body and the doer in me really wanted to do more for her. But the only other thing that came to my mind was to tell her how beautiful she was. Later that day, we found out from the doctors that examined her that she sustained a stroke during childbirth. As I saw her throughout the rest of the day, we would share a glance and a smile. It seemed like she continued to say "thank you" with her eyes. And I continued to want to do more for her each time I saw her. But she just continued to say "merci."
The ending moment of this story did not come until days later. One struggle I have on these trips is fighting the doer in me. The doer in me just wants to make a difference and take care of people and make them better. But a part of this desire is prideful because that part of the story is all about me. Me getting the glory of making them better and making a difference and looking good. Thankfully, the Lord reminded me of the ultimate thing I have to give. This Truth came through in another moment. It happened while we were out shopping at the market. Some of the team were talking to a couple Haitian women and their children. The children were being particularly playful, and I tried to seize that moment to be a child again, and I played with them. Then I heard the women singing in English, "Every move I make I make in You." I realized they were singing worship songs in English that the Haitian women had learned somewhere along the way. I joined them, and we then went through about four other praise songs that the women knew. It was ironic because they didn't know English but they knew those songs in English, and I didn't know Creole but we could share those songs together. Later, I asked Sarah how the conversation with those women got started. And she said that they had asked her if she had anything she could give them. Her response was, "All I have to give you is Jesus' love." That response was so simple and so right on and unbelievingly heart penetrating for me. This response came from the one on our trip who is a practicing psychiatrist. She has had a ton of education and life experiences. Yet she humbly claims all she has to give is the love of Christ. It was so simple and somewhat the "Sunday School answer." But it was exactly what I needed to hear. Really all I have to give is Jesus' love as well. And it is not just the main thing I have to give to people in the clinical setting while I am in Haiti, but people in my family, co-workers, and friends as well. I tend to get distracted by all the other things I can do to take care of people because that is what I do love to do. It often takes language barriers and wrestling with my own insecurities and fears in an uncomfortable environment for me to see that really God is so much bigger than my feebleness and that "the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing." The Psalms that our team started our day with told of this Truth about The Main Thing. Yet it took Sarah's simple response for it to really sink in for me. An Anne Lamott quote really sums it up for me as well. In Grace Eventually Thoughts on Faith, Anne quotes a friend who says "You do what you can. Then you get out of the way because you are not the One who does the work." So for the rest of the week, I really just tried to get myself out of the way. To start at that spot where I feel utterly helpless to do it, whatever "it" may be. Andrew Murray speaks of laying all my gifts and powers down at Christ's feet, feeling in myself "utterly powerless to use them aright." These Truths helped ground me back in the bare essentials of serving and sustained me through the rest of the week. So as we left Crochu, the last mobile clinic tucked away near the top of a Haitian hill, thankfully, the doer in me had been quieted by a bigger Power working itself out in me. I was able to just be a little more. Do what I could a little more and as we left Crochu, I was able to rest with the work God did through our team and in our team. The work that He has started there, He will complete. That is what He promises. It was my job to get out of the way and enjoy the incredibly bumpy ride back down the mountain.
Another moment to add would definitely be the BBQ and dance party at the end of the week. The wonderful cooks served us chicken and, yes, even hotdogs from the grill as well as some amazing Haitian fried plantains. We ate food with some of the ladies from the pharmacy and some of the translators and others that had been serving with us not only all week but doing the work there long before we arrived. Then the dancing began. It started with a few couple people doing some salsa and ended with Carmel throwing some crazy elbows on the dance floor with the biggest smile on her face. She danced with no regrets and held nothing back. She said this is how I get my exercise as the glistening around her brow began to form. Our BBQ and dance with our Haitian brothers and sisters on that ending night of our work week gave us just a taste of what that final banquet will be like. When all the hard work and perseverance and sweat and tears will pale in comparison to the glory we get to behold on that mountain where "the Lord Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples" (Isaiah 25:6). Because after all, as Timothy Keller says "each one of us - whether we are materially rich or poor - is longing, like the Prodigal Son, to come home to a feast, a banquet in which all our physical needs are fully satisfied and all our relationships are completely restored, a banquet in which we experience all that it means to be human for the first time." All of us have this longing and it gets hidden in different ways by the world we live in and our own sinful nature and our busyness. But we have to believe there is a longer restoration project going on by the King of Justice and Righteousness and this moment helped me remember this Truth.
We ended our work week with a day at the beach. I have never been so buoyant in ocean water. So often when I go the beach, I am fighting against the tide. But that day in the Caribbean Ocean a couple of us stayed out floating without float. Ok…don't get me wrong - there was a little treading going on AND there were at least two jelly fish attacks but that did not make us want to leave. The water had taken us over. Could it be that God was whispering in that moment - "I want to carry you." "Cease your striving and know that I am God" (Psalms 46:10). Endurance in the treading is so much more manageable when I am being lifted up.
I am so thankful for the opportunity to go, but I think the challenge always comes when you return. When you sit with and try to make sense of what you saw and what you learned and what is going to stick. So that is where I am these days tossing the moments around in my mind and heart not wanting to forget but feeling the urge to press on as well. The entire week our team witnessed the profound impact that Pere Val and Carmel have had in this corner of their world. There were so many signs of God's hand in restoring this nation. And I don't want forget not only the way that Carmel served but also the way she danced.
