Friends at Easter

Happy Easter! We had a good Easter weekend here in Gressier. My friend from Seguin, Margarethe Jean Phillippe, her three children (Davidson, Joseph, and Marie Phara), and her sister Bethany all came to visit us on Good Friday. Margarethe, as always, brought way too much food! She has so many mouths that depend on her to be fed, and yet she always brings us a ton of food when she comes. She made us some fish, which is a traditional Easter meal here in Haiti. I have to admit, I wasn't excited about it at first, since the smell of the raw fish and fish juice was overwhelming. But after everything was said and done and FRIED, it was awesome. We all ate our fill and had plenty to spare. Titus really liked the fish and veggies, too. Nora, of course, didn't try any of it. She had mac 'n cheese.

Margarethe and I were able to catch up on all that has been happening since I left the mountain. It was good to have her here and spend time together again. My children were a little shy around her kids, but they all ended up playing together (or near each other) in the end. On Saturday, I hid a bunch of eggs and taught the kids about a silly Easter tradition that we Americans do. They had fun running around, finding eggs.

Margarethe told me a few stories of her life, past and present. She told me about how she has eight brothers and sisters, but there used to be nine. She lost her baby brother when he was three years old because of diarrhea. One day he was there, the next he was in the hospital, and the next day he was gone, she said. She also told me about how Ecclesiaste, her husband, is from a family of twelve siblings, but only six of them are still alive. You'd think that these would be things I would know about Margarethe and her husband, since we've been friends for ten years. But I guess, in Haiti, it doesn't come up much. You wouldn't know that she and her husband come from such tragic backgrounds. Ecclesiaste has a laugh that fills up a room (anyone who knows him knows this is an understatement!) Nothing in his demeanor or speech would clue you in to the fact that he's lost half his siblings. I've found that many Haitians are like Margarethe and Ecclesiaste. Tragedy and hardship in the past stays in the past, and doesn't have much bearing on the present. I'm not sure how they do it, but I wish I could emulate it.

Margarethe also told me about how life is for her family presently. She and Ecclesiaste live in Seguin and both have employment. Two of her brothers work, and her father is a farmer and

raises animals. The rest of her family lives in Jacmel and is either unemployed or in school. Her mother, her four sisters, her three children, their four cousins, and one orphan child all live in a two room house together. They all sleep in the same room. Margarethe didn't seem to think this was unusual. She talked about how the children don't fall to sleep before 10 at night. She thought they were night owls. But when they were at my house, they fell sound asleep by 8pm. The yard where they could play had something to do with that, but I also think it was a soft mattress and a room that wasn't full of ten other snoring, kicking, sweating bodies. I gave them a double mattress and two single mattresses for the five of them to sleep, but all three kids piled onto one of the mattresses and fell fast asleep. Force of habit, I guess!

It was a blessing to share Easter weekend with Margarethe. I always come away from our encounters feeling that I need to be more grateful, more joyful, and more content with what God has given me. I love you, Marga! Come and spend the weekend anytime.

Three Churches

We've had a few nice visits, lately. Ryan's home church from Anniston, Alabama visited us in February for a week. They helped out around Christianville and the clinics and also helped build a house for a woman who used to work for us. She lost her daughter (Daphne) and her home in the earthquake, so the team helped to build a new one for her. We were especially glad to see Ryan's parents again, and to see Pastor Mac visit Haiti for the first time. During their stay, Ryan preached at our church here in Haiti. I interpreted for him, which turned out to be a little bit controversial. I didn't know that women not speaking in church also included women not interpreting in church, according to some church members. The leaders of the church were glad that Ryan preached, though, and were thankful for the interpretation. After Ryan preached about following Christ and loving Him, instead of following family traditions, FanFan came up to give an altar call. He is a member of the church as well as an accordion player and a dental hygienist at Christianville's dental clinic. A young woman responded to his altar call and told the church that she had been going to church all her life as a family tradition, but she had never accepted Christ to be her own Savior, and she wanted to do that. It was a great Sunday at church.

In March, my home church from Ft. Lauderdale came to visit us. They helped out around Christianville and the clinics. They built several chicken coops and put up gates at the eye clinic building site. They brought us lots of goodies, just like Ryan's church had done. It is great to get visits from our home church and be encouraged by our church families. I was especially glad that Kent and Dennis got to return on a trip to Christianville. They came to help out when I first moved to Haiti and lived in Seguin, and they hadn't been back since, so I was happy to show them the new place where I'm serving.

While the Community Christian church group was here, we also attended a service at my church here in Haiti. This time, Ryan didn't preach. Our head pastor didn't preach, either. It was a deacon without any seminary experience who preached. His sermon was directed towards women, since it was the international day of remembering women, or something like that. He chose two Scriptures to build his sermon around. The Scriptures he chose were very thought provoking. One was the story of the mother of James and John in Matthew 20:20-23. The other was the story of Hannah, from 1 Samuel chapters 1 and 2. He began to compare these two mothers, saying that the mother of James and John was asking for her sons to be powerful, and the mother of Samuel didn't care if he was a servant, but just wanted him to be dedicated to the Lord. Then, he veered off onto a tangent about not letting your children play with scissors, or they might poke their eye out, grow up to resent you, and eventually kill you for it. Before the tangent, I thought he was on to something good, but he never got back to it.

Let's pretend he did get back to it. Let's keep comparing those two women. The mother of James and John wanted them to be with Jesus because she saw that He had power and could lead them to positions of greatness. Jesus warned her that His type of greatness was going to involve much sacrifice and suffering. Hannah, on the other hand, prayed that God would give her a child. She vowed to dedicate that child to His service, no matter what the cost to her son or to herself. As a mother, I find it easy to pray for my child's safety, for his health, for her to prosper and be successful in life. But I also pray with all my heart for my children to be saved, to know Christ, and to serve Him with all their heart and life. Like John and James' mother, I like to ask Jesus to bless them. But I also need to be like Hannah, and pray that -no matter what the cost- they will serve the Lord. Even if it means they grow up to serve Him in a country far away, or choose ministry over financial security, or stay single in their service of Him and never give me grandkids, or serve Him in a dangerous place. Even if they suffer for Him. That is a much harder prayer to pray. I know my mother was a Hannah in her prayers for me, and I'm thankful. I ask for God's grace to make me a Hannah mother in my prayers for my children, as well.

Sunday School

Maybe 2012 will be the year that I make 12 posts on my blog. Doubt it. But I'll try.

Ryan and I attend Lasalle Christian Church of Christianville (we're Christians, can you tell?). It is right down the road from us. We have been quiet observers in the past, but recently we have stepped up our involvement a little bit. I noticed a lot of little heads in the pews, nodding off, making noise, bugging the people in front of them, and generally not having a good time in the "grown up" service. So, I decided to start a Sunday school program at the church. Our church had one in previous years, but it had lacked one for at least four years, and the congregation was ready to start one up again. I only go to church every other week as it is, because our kids are so little and there is no nursery program, so Ryan and I take turns attending every other Sunday. So, I didn't want to be the main teacher of the Sunday school program, because then I would miss church service completely, and so would Ryan (because he'd be home with our kids). So, I asked Pastor Fanel if he could find me some volunteers. I was hoping for at least four. He found me eight. I was delighted that so many wanted to help. When we had our first meeting, I realized that they didn't even want me to be a teacher at all. They were just expecting me to be the coordinator. That was great to hear, too. They divided themselves into four teams of two, and we decided each team would only have to teach Sunday school once a month, so they wouldn't have to miss too much church. I provide the curriculum, lesson plans, memory verse, activity ideas and materials, and felt board. Every Friday, I meet together with the team that will be teaching that Sunday, and give them the materials and lesson plans.

We started this program back in the fall of 2011, and it's been going well ever since. We have about 50 kids, ages 3 to 14, in the class right now. The teachers took the initiative to put on a Christmas program with the kids, and did a great job on their own (since I was in the States). The teachers also come up with good ideas for me to incorporate in the lessons. One of the teams recruited a pianist to come play for the children during the weeks that they teach. One teacher gave me a song sheet to print out for the kids, so they could have their own song booklets. For the most part, the program is going well. My goal is to give up a little more control over the program as time goes on, so that eventually it will just run without me.

When we studied Abraham and God's promise to him to give him a son in his old age, our memory verse was "With God, nothing is impossible." The activity I chose to reinforce this lesson was for the kids to write out something that they felt was impossible in their lives. Then at the end of the lesson, we prayed that God would work in our lives and listen to these prayers about these impossible things. I told the kids that God would answer them, but not necessarily with a "yes". It might be a "no" or "not yet". The kids had some interesting things that they thought were impossible. Most of the kids drew pictures of planes, or cars, or bikes. They figured they'd never get to own one of those. But some of the kids went a little deeper. One 10 year old girl wrote a long essay listing all the things in her life she felt were impossible. The list included "Mom and Dad getting back together", "Not having to live my with grandparents", and "My grandfather to come to the Lord." I hope she holds on to the hope that nothing is impossible with the Lord, and that God answers some of her prayers with a "yes".

10 Years In Haiti

Here is a photo of me with my pastor's family in September of 2001, on my last Sunday at Community Christian Church before I moved to Haiti. I moved here on September 4, 2001, and had no idea that I would still be here 10 years later. Here is a list of some of the highlights and low points of the past decade. I'll leave it up to the reader to determine which are which:

-waving goodbye to my nephew Lukey at the airport and trying to control my sobs on the plane
-watching the 911 attacks on cable t.v. in the CSI guesthouse living room
-wondering why it hurt to move my eyes, my head, my entire body...then finding out it was dengue fever and I wasn't going to get better for a couple of weeks
-laying on my cot the first night in Seguin, in my damp sleeping bag, thinking "what have I gotten myself into?"
-laying blocks for the walls of my apartment on Christmas day
-meeting Margarethe for the first time and thinking she was so skinny I better do some bloodwork on her before we hired her
-clearing out the rat eaten meds and starting a new pharmacy room
-falling down the stairs of death...repeatedly
-learning to master a stick shift in stop and go traffic on steep roads (I apologize to all the walls and vehicles I gently rolled back on)
-rushing Jean Dony to the hospital to get him treatment for his burned body, while trying to dodge people dressed like bulls and other beasts (it was Mardi Gras)
-delivering my first infant (Idamanthe is a beautiful nine year old now)
-delivering two babies in two different houses at the same time (that involved a lot of running)
-trying to set up the internet (that sentence doesn't convey how much time, effort, and agony went into that process)
-delivering a baby in the back of the pickup, while trying to keep Margarethe from having her baby in the front of the pickup
-living with Chelsea and Jean Dony in a haitian home for two weeks (cooking on a charcoal stove is hard)
-telling Lifrane to stop knocking on my door for cookies (this happened nearly every day for six and a half years)
-teaching my first Sunday school lesson in Creole
-leading my first group of students in a baptism class, and then watching them get baptized
-wrapping 500 presents for school kids on Christmas eve, while listening to Christmas music in Spanish on the only radio signal Seguin received
-watching movies at night to hear people talk to me in English
-asking for a blanket when it was 90 degrees out (malaria makes you do funny things)
-working with Danny and Leann
-saying goodbye to Danny and Leann
-delivering Jabez
-saying goodbye to Jabez
-working with all my wonderful interns
-watching all my wonderful interns go back home
-hiking to Margarethe's mother's house (it's not too far, they said. they lied.)
-watching a witch doctor tell a pregnant lady to put a pot on her head and eat an egg, shell and all
-driving Kenscoff road and getting knocked off course by a boy with a herd of sheep
-walking Kenscoff road and getting schooled by a woman twice my age
-driving a hemorrhaging patient in my brand new truck to four different hospitals before finding her help
-delivering two non-breathing, nearly pulseless twins
-visiting with those twins and their mother a year later, and watching them crawl and smile and play
-praying with Margarethe and her family when the loneliness started taking its toll on me
-waking up each Tuesday thinking "ugh. it's dental day"
-staring at a broken generator. again, and again, and again.
-crying out "Jezi, sove nou!!" as I floated down a river in my truck with a haitian man named Chrisnet and a cat named Blackbeard
-riding on the top of a bus, the back of a dump truck, the bench of a taptap, the spare tire of a mack truck, the book rack of a motorcycle, and the bony back of an emaciated horse (to name a few)
-making the decision to leave Seguin, praying for guidance, and receiving an email from Jim and Sandy asking me to come to Christianville
-meeting an American missionary optometrist and thinking "he's cute, but quiet"
-saying goodbye to all my friends in Seguin
-preaching devotions at the Christianville clinic and seeing patients respond to the gospel
-getting engaged under a waterfall in Jacmel
-flying back to Christianville in a helicopter after our honeymoon
-meeting my baby girl for the first time and thinking "I didn't know I could love something this much"
-surviving the earthquake on January 12, 2010 and still attempting to survive all its aftermath
-sleeping under an avocado tree
-having church outside
-learning how to live indoors again without panicking
-giving birth to my baby boy and thinking "he's absolutely perfect"
-starting up a Sunday school program at church and busting out the ol' felt board again

And that pretty much brings us up to today. Some people have told me that I should write a book about my time here in Haiti. But I tell them, "I don't know the end yet." I felt God called me to Haiti 10 years ago, and I came with the intention to stay until He called me somewhere else. He hasn't called me anywhere else yet, so I'll keep serving Him here, one day (or decade) at a time.

BOONS!

The youth from my church family at Community Christian Church in Tamarac, Florida came to visit Christianville this month. They were a great team. They helped with construction on the new medical clinic, they did various odd jobs for the other ministries here, they worshipped with other teams that were here, and they brought the other missionaries and me some goodies and some encouragement. I am always glad when teams from my home church come to visit, and it was really nice to get to know these youth. Some of them were just wee little kids that I saw in children's church or at VBS when I left for Haiti 10 years ago, so it was great to chat with them and see where God is leading them now.

During the week that the youth were here, another team decided to blow up water balloons to use for their VBS ministry project. The balloons sat in a container and taunted Nora all week. We would walk past them and her eyes would get big and she would shout "BOONS!", but I wouldn't let her play with them. However, the team that planned on using the balloons must not have had time to incorporate them into their VBS and ended up leaving without using them. So there they sat, tempting us. On one of the last days that the Community youth were here, Rita, our interim guesthouse coordinator, suggested a use for the balloons that everyone got excited about. Rita's plan was to have the youth line up on the patio on Monday morning, during Christianville's bi-monthly distribution of food for the elderly. Then, as each elderly person came to receive their food, they would be instructed to throw a water balloon at the team before leaving. I was skeptical about the plan. I really didn't think those old folks would be up for it. I thought they might be too shy. Our pastor of outreach, Mr. Laguerre, was surprised at the plan, too. But he duly translated Rita's wishes to the elderly folks. The people that you would think would have the objections --the youth-- thought it was a great idea and lined up like great sports for the abuse.



At first, the elderly people were hesitant to throw the balloons. But after the first few threw the balloons and saw the good reactions of the teenagers, the whole crowd got excited and the rest of the recipients of the food had no qualms about lobbing, tossing, throwing or out-right fast pitching the balloons at the young people. Nora stood by the container of balloons shouting "Boons!" and smiling.

As I was watching the whole affair, looking at the happy faces of the old folks and the haitians gathered around, I began to reflect on a book I just read, called "When Helping Hurts". The book talks about different methods of helping poor people that can actually hurt everyone involved, because those methods encourage a paternalistic attitude in the giver and a feeling of powerlessness in the recipient. The book suggests several ways to avoid this pitfall, one of which is to never do anything for someone that they can do on their own. Well, the elderly people in Christianville's feeding program have troubles finding the resources to feed themselves adequately, and the government lacks programs for these people, so I believe the elderly feeding program is a good and necessary one. It does, however, make people feel a bit powerless, when they have to rely on a mission or an agency for handouts. So, while it wasn't a suggested method in "When Helping Hurts", I think the 'balloon exercise' was a great way to put just a tiny bit of power back into the hands of those elderly men and women. For just a few moments, while they were getting their free food, the recipients were able to give something back: a little water, a little fun, and a lot of smiles.

Bearing Fruit

This blog post is dedicated to Phil and Myriam Raber, the optometrist and dentist who lived in our house in the mid nineties and planted a dozen fruit-bearing trees all over the yard. While they lived in the house, the trees were young and didn't produce fruit, so they never enjoyed the fruit of their labor. By the time we moved into the "eye doc house" 15 years later, however, the trees were raining down fruit. We get pummeled by avocados in the fall, and oranges and grapefruit in the winter. The spring brings us hundreds of mangoes. There are coconut trees that give year-round joy to Rezimond, the teenager who washes our truck each week and gets a bonus coconut when he finishes. Just the other day, I picked cherries for Mme Eugene to take home for juicing, picked a papaya off a tree for a smoothie, and pulled a few plantains off the tree near the laundry line to use for supper. Every time I enjoy the fruit in our yard, I think of how little effort it took me, and how much effort Phil and Myriam put into it, and I thank them in my heart.

This reminds me of a passage in John chapter 4, verses 34 to 38. Jesus is talking to his disciples and tells them to look at the fields, because they are ready for harvest. He reminds them that they did not sow, but they are going to reap. "For in this the saying is true: One sows and another reaps. I sent you to reap that for which you have not labored; others have labored, and you have entered into their labors." Every Tuesday, I prepare and give a short devotional to our patients who are waiting to be seen at the clinic. At the end of the gospel presentation, I ask anyone who would like to respond to the message of salvation to raise their hand. Very rarely, someone will respond. But more often than not, and especially in the past couple of months, the audience just sits there silently. Sometimes, I find myself getting discouraged and having a hard time finding the motivation to preach each Tuesday, when so few people respond. But then I remember this Scripture, and I remember Phil and Myriam Raber. Some people plant, and others sow. Perhaps at the clinic lately, I am a planter. People may not be ready to respond every day, but they still need to hear the good news that Jesus came and died to take away their sins. And hopefully, one day, after hearing the message several times, they will open their hearts and someone will get the chance to "reap"... to lead them to the Lord. I thank God I'm part of the process.

Mother's Day

A few weeks ago, I celebrated my second mother's day as a mom. As any of you who have had small children can relate, it wasn't my dream day. The children are not old enough to say "happy mother's day" or give me gifts, but they are old enough to throw fits, need punishment, push my buttons, and make me want to crawl out of my skin (or at least out of the house for a few solitary hours). But a few days ago I got an unexpected present for mother's day, just a few weeks late. The kids and I were playing on the back porch and heard an accordion and some men's voices singing nearby. This isn't a rare experience here in Christianville, because the men's choir at church often rehearses in the afternoons. But on this particular day I felt that the kids needed to get out of the house and, since they both like music, we decided to walk over to see the men's choir practice. Normally they practice in the empty lot that used to be the eye clinic, but we found them this day in the school yard, sitting in one of the transitional classrooms. When the men saw us standing there, watching them from the doorway, they stopped practicing their individual parts and decided to put on a show for us. Fanfan, the dental assistant/accordian player/choir director, led the men in a mother's day song that they had been practicing for Haitian Mother's Day, which comes a few weeks later than ours. The men sang of their love for their moms. Nora clapped and Titus smiled, and the men sang on. Nora stopped clapping when the men drew the song to a close with a verse that said, "You are my mother, you have the right to punish me, so go ahead and spank me." I don't think she approved of that verse. I thought it sounded pretty practical, though.