grace like rain

It's been so hot, every day hotter and more beautiful than the next.

So it was easy when the rain started, bringing in fall, to be thankful for a break in the heat.  Kids were playing in the rain, neighbors were collecting water, farmers were thankful for their crops.

But when it continues and continues, quickly filling the trash packed canals, quickly pouring off the muddy roads and filling peoples homes...it's not so fun.

By today, it's just miserable.

I feel bad that Grandpa and Cindy's trip has been characterized by being locked inside with grandkids out of closed schools.

I feel frustrated that RAIN will be costing us over $3000 to entirely rebuild our wall (click here to give now to help with this urgent need).  I feel heavy for the men guarding the huge hole throughout the night in the muddy rain.

I am frustrated by how much water has filled our porch and is coming through the ceiling.  I feel bad that a sprinkle of water on my laptop and I can get it fixed in one week when 2 days of rain will ruin things no one can afford to fix.  Frustrated by the growing piles of laundry that cannot be washed because there is no way to dry it.

I feel sick for sleeping in a warm dry bed when so many, last night, slept in cold, muddy WET.

I feel heavy for our students being called home to help bail mud and trash out of crumbling homes...

devastated for so many families living so miserably right now in dirt and water and garbage.

I feel thankful for our students, such as Rodolphe (middle below), spending their days trying to help others get from where they are to a better place (read more on our friend Steve's blog, who took these pix and helped Rodolphe.)

One of my English students said to me yesterday, "I went to America once, and it rained and rained, but it didn't affect ANYONE.  America put it all someplace, and it wasn't even in anyones homes!  Didn't mess up the roads!  I don't know where America puts it, but I wish we could put it there, too."

Bondye Konne

everyone says, 

God knows.

On His throne and in our hearts, He most certainly does.

He knows the pain far better than I do.  He knows this little girls' heart.

 And He does not sleep at night.

The beauty and heat of Haiti 360 days a year are nothing but grace.

The rain is falling still.