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28 November 2018

what we cannot imagine

If there is any hope, any trust, any faith to be seen in me, surely much of it was planted and watered in me by my Haitian fellow-believers.

By this morning I was at the very end of myself.

Our little Mayah isn't doing well in Philly, and texts and photos and FaceTime throughout the days and nights just doesn't touch it. Being there won't touch it either, for there will still be very little I can do.
Whatever America can do for her that many other countries couldn't, whatever money could do that poverty can't, whatever skilled doctors could change that inexperienced ones couldn't...it doesn't matter.  

Her every breath, her every heartbeat is a miracle, needs a miracle, and only God can do what Mayah needs.

Our English class today was doing presentations on sicknesses and remedies, each student briefly talking about a different illness common in Haiti.

As one student wrapped up his presentation on the prevention, care and treatment of cholera, he asked if there were any questions.

"Yes," one student asked seriously.  "What do you think is more dangerous?  Cholera, or the politician currently trying to overthrow the president?"

I allowed everyone to stretch their English on it for a moment, one threat heavy on our history, the other threat heavy on our hearts today.

Our cholera outbreak, brought from Nepal through the very organization present to keep-peace, killed some 10,000 people, most within days or hours of symptoms, crediting Haiti with the first-modern large scale outbreak of cholera, and with the most deadly modern outbreak of it.

That season of all our lives was so stressful. I remember fearing every banana, every head of lettuce, every glass of water, remember seeing my children for the fragile that they were. I remember friends and family losing friends and family, suddenly and with spreading fear, I remember where I was when we learned that all the surrounding area clinics were out of life-saving IV bags and IV equipment.

Was that more stressful than now? The masses being threatened by a corrupt few, publicly warning parents to write the names of our children on their feet before daring to send them to school, so that we can identify their bodies when they burn the schools down? Guaranteeing Haiti's people that the day they return to work will bring the last regret of their lives?

Forget epidemics and political chaos that brings a country to a standstill, what about the Great Earthquake and the 200,000 men, women and children it killed in a matter of minutes and the days following? What about the earthquake last month, that shakes everyone to its core, because 200,000 people in a country of 8 million means that everyone, everyone lost someone.

And the middle days, the middle days without drama that still baffle me...to this day I can't TELL you how so many live on SO LITTLE.  To this day I don't know HOW 90% of the people I see every day feed their children.  I know how much groceries cost...and I know how much people make...and I know how hard people work...and I know how much school costs.  It does NOT add up for many.  I don't even know how to calculate it.

From all my earthly wisdom and experience and observations, believers and non-believers alike in Haiti should be scarred beyond recognition and unable to get out of bed in the morning.  FOREVER.

And instead, day after day, I live among some of the most beautiful, hopeful, joyful, servant-hearted, hard-working, generous, humorous people.  Scarred and burdened and beautiful and encouraging.

At the end of my class, tired (the stress of political instability and not being able to plan on each day makes you WEARY, I promise you) and overwhelmed with concern for Mayah and my sister and her precious family...I explained to my students that I would not be here next week for their final exam.

Immediately someone asked if my sister was ok, and as I gave the 2 sentence version to avoid tears, another student insisted, "Let's pray. In English, now, I will try!"

As he stood to pray, always reverent, these believers, I closed my eyes over my tears and powerfully felt the Spirit meet us in the silence.

He thanked God for seeing us through the class, "from the first day until now, you are with us" and thanked God for their teacher. "And God," he continued carefully, deliberately. "We ask you for Stacey's sister and her baby, and we ask you, God, what we cannot imagine."

That's it, isn't it.  

Isn't that faith, in it's purest form?  Isn't that hope abounding?

In the earthquakes and burning streets, in the hunger and in the epidemics, in the devastation and in the difficulties, one after another after another, we are praying in Haiti today for a tiny baby far away. 

We are praying in Haiti today for what we cannot imagine.

We are praying in Haiti today for what we cannot see.

We are praying in Haiti today for what we cannot do.

Not with anger, but with hope.  Not with fear, but with trust.  Not with despair, but with simple faith.


Haiti guides me, oh, once again, and as I sat in chapel an hour later, vibrant worship and dance swirling all around me, hands lifted with abandon to the Lord of Heaven’s Armies, I lift mine, too.  When I’m too weary to lead, I’ll follow.

7 comments:

  1. Praying, my dear, praying about everything for you, your family, travels, the ministry in Haiti. Indiana follower, Karyl Entner

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  2. Prayers for Lisa, baby Mayah and the whole family!

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  3. And we're praying alongside you here in Kansas.

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  4. Lifting you all up in prayer <3

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  5. Praying that the one who hears and knows does what only He can! Love you!

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