2010 has been a heartbreak year for Haiti.
“The Earthquake” rung in the New Year with overwhelming devastation and death, followed by great sadness, sickness, hurricanes, flooding, cholera and political upheaval.
In complete bewilderment we stood in the middle of Port-au-Prince days after the earthquake, truly wondering how Haiti could EVER survive such a horrific nightmare. And as you read this, almost a year later, thousands are battling for their lives around us, with so many already lost, against cholera. We have lived in the midst of fear, loss, depression and anguish like we never would have imagined we could experience.
And yet somehow, Haiti has continued to be the complicated contradiction that it is. The miracles that we ourselves have witnessed far outweigh the horrors. The salvations our eyes have SEEN take place far outnumber the lives we have seen perish. The praises we have heard sung have resonated far louder and with much more conviction than the Voodoo drums that pound each night or the wails of sorrow piercing the darkness.
“I might say, ‘Surely the darkness will overwhelm me and the Light around me will be like night.’ But no! Even the darkness isn’t dark to You,” David says in Psalm 139. It doesn’t say that there will be NO darkness! It just says that darkness is NOTHING in the Light of the LORD.
To be honest, we don’t know what to say about this year except “Amen” to this verse. We have breathed SUCH darkness alongside Our precious brothers and sisters here, and yet can honestly and passionately say that it has been nothing in the Light of His beauty, His presence...His Love.
In the midst of devastation, we personally and as a Seminary have SEEN His beauty and His love for us, for Haiti and for the World. Who would have thought there could be such love in the midst of such a place as Haiti...such love in the time of cholera.
Of all the stories we have shared on our blog this past year, one of the most powerful is reproduced below for His Glory this Christmas.
We are here, and continue to be, because HE is faithful and because YOU have been faithful. THANK YOU, from the bottom of our hearts this Christmas, for all of your support, prayers, encouragement, emails, letters and LOVE this year of blessed heartbreak. MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Lily and cousin Nico...and more doggies to ride :)
Longwood Gardens was beautiful last night...
and Lily loved having some extra time with Uncle Don and Aunt Brenda
NOT Haitian weather :) Lily loved it all the same with Grammy and PopPop
Then today played for hours with her new toys from the Hulmes...kissing all the animals :)
Life, as you know, was hard in Haiti before January 12th. And it still is. The word "resilient" just kept coming to my mind as we walked through the rubble of what had been Port-au-Prince. I had expected to find a people dejected, despairing, desperate. Instead, I found a people quite determined.
None, however, as much as this 18 year-old woman whom I will never forget. The morning before we left, we were trying to find a hospital in need of a surgeon that had come with us to help. We visited several different make-shift hospitals, and I took advantage of the time talk with people.
At this particular hospital, just teeming with French doctors and nurses and hundreds of patients, most now missing a limb or two, I walked past a tent and Valerie caught my eye. She was sitting on a mattress, one leg gone, another damaged, raw wounds on both arms and hands...but that's not why she grabbed me.
As she sat there, peering out of her tent, it was as if she was looking for someone. And I know I've said this before, but again it was as if I was looking into the face of Jesus. Just immediately. She was Jesus.
"Hi," I said softly, knowing I wasn't really even supposed to be there, not sure if she would want to talk.
"Oh, PLEASE" she said immediately. "Sit here.” She patted the spot beside her inside the tiny tent, just big enough for two mats. "Please talk to me. I would like to be your friend."
It was so heart wrenching, the way she said it, and I realized that of the thousands of people over the years that have stopped me and asked for something...money, food, help, prayer, a ride, clothing, a job, my earrings, Lily...she was the FIRST person to ask just to be my friend.
Praise the Lord, for almost 45 minutes the surgeon was delayed, and Valerie and I just talked. It was fantastic. It wasn't even ministry. It was just talking with a friend, with my sister, encouraging each other.
Her story was horrific. She and her mother went through a shockingly long list of lost loved ones...Neighbors that died, family that died, all their other family in the house that died. Friends that died. Teachers. Pastors. Milk men. The soup lady.
"How did you live?" I finally asked, realizing how minor her seemingly major injuries were considering the fate of almost everyone else in her vicinity.
"We all just ran," she said. "Everyone ran, everyone was screaming. Most didn't make it. Mom got out with just some stair scraping her leg. But a huge part of the house fell on my leg and foot.
"It all was on my leg, and I couldn't move. We thought the rest of the house was going to fall, but I couldn't go. My mom came back. We waited. We tried to dig myself out, but couldn't. The next day, my mom found someone to help, and he cut off my leg with his machete.
"And then I came here, on the 13th, and we've been here ever since. Let's talk about you! Where are you from?" she asked brightly.
WHAT?!?
Would you believe me if I told you that we talked for another thirty minutes and that she never once complained or grumbled about losing her leg? I mean, she's an 18 year old girl! No boyfriend, almost no family, and now NO leg, and she was so incredibly thankful to be alive that I could honestly see that it did not bother her one bit...not what she looked like, not what it could mean for her, not how hard it would make the rest of her life...nothing.
There is no prosthetic in the future for this girl. No physical therapy. No medical assistance, no elevators. Not even a house. No home! No NOTHING. Everything they had in the entire world was each other and that tent...and the tent wasn’t theirs.
No complaints.
Later, I asked her what was in store for her.
"Oh, I'm so excited about this!" she told me with all the energy of an teenager about to spill a juicy secret. "Listen! I saw so many die all around me, but God spared me! Praise the Lord, He saved me! And I know He makes no mistakes. And I know He allows everything for a reason. I know that He saved me for a beautiful reason, and I just can't wait to see what that is!"
My heart! For the first time, it occurred to me that HE SAVED ME, TOO! The earthquake could have been here, instead of there. We're only some 100 miles away. I could have been buried, just as easily as her sisters. Matt could have been killed, just as quickly as her father. Of ALL the things that could happen ANY day, He saved me! Am I searching for the reason? Am I asking Him why? Am I grateful for my breath and unconcerned with my losses and excited to discover and fulfill His daily plan for me?
I grabbed her hand and I prayed for her. I prayed that they would find a house. I prayed that they would find food. I prayed that the Lord would show her His reason, that He would heal all the broken bits of her heart, that He would redeem all the losses, that He would bless her beautiful spirit.
No sooner had I finished that she prayed for me, and I knew as I sat there beside her, sweat pouring down us both in that stifling tent, that this was one of life's rare purely beautiful moments. Just two hours after standing horrified by a river full of death, I sat by still waters with joy in my soul.
I took her picture, not for the photograph, but that I might always remember to praise Him, and always remember my sister...My first exchange of beauty for ashes.
