broken world

Monday, lots of kiddos headed back to school. Such an answer to many prayers and after missing almost 3 weeks. All of us parents were getting anxious about how much the kids were missing...and how much chaos they were causing at home :)  The girls were so happy to be with their friends again and to have a bit of a schedule again they can count-ish on!

With some continued threats circulating and public transportation being a lot more expensive than it was a few weeks ago still...not everyone's back, and having lots of kids back in uniform and off again reminds me how many kids aren't in school.  Weren't in school.  Still aren't in school.  Never were.

Life in Haiti.  

It's hard.  

My friend Molly pointed out the other day that I don't talk about that side often. She's right. A lot of it I don’t see anymore, and the rest I work not to dwell on. 

I've always been more of a digger. Finding and sharing with my family and with you the daily and many joys of Haiti and her people is always such a joy for ME.  I love finding the beautiful things.

But seeing all the impossible little things everyday. It will run you dry if it's your focus.

The mama who sent her four kids to school three miles away on a motorcycle, 25 gdes each, three weeks ago...Today it's 100 gdes each, each day.  I couldn't figure out how she did 100 a day.  Every day.  And now she's supposed to do 400? 

So she can't.  

She makes 8000 gdes a month...making her one of the very blessed village few with a steady income.  But she can't pay 2000 gdes a week to get her kids to and from school when she's also supposed to PAY the school and BUY the books and MAKE the uniforms and...oh yeah, feed them.  

She used to have a combined income that could have made it possible...when her husband brought home money from his motorcycle taxi business.  Before he was murdered not far from home a few years ago. For his motorcycle.  

What is she supposed to do?  What about the incredible percentage of kiddos in our village that, due to just all that, have NEVER been to school?  Like their mamas never got to? 

And on top of it all, everyone's gotta get messages on their phones and hear on the radio about rumors from evil men trying to keep fear going? On top of it all, everybody's gotta hear, over and over, about how we need to write our kids names on the soles of their feet so we'll be able to identify their bodies if we send them to school?  On our husband's if he goes to work? 

It's a broken world, friends. I cannot imagine, cannot imagine it being mine to fix. Most days, it feels like I cannot fix one thing as I work to love on our neighbors well, to stand by them, to meet them, to help them, to live life with them, and all I can see are a million deep complicated things that need fixing.  

I'm glad I can trust Him. I'm glad He's here in the middle. 

And darn it, I can see Him working in people's lives. I can see Him working in THIS village, He is somehow providing for His people. 

That is the beautiful I can always find.  

He is the beautiful I can always find.

And our friend? She trusts Him.  There are a beautiful handful of totally different-looking people in this village who trust Him.  And laugh. And worship. And carry on. And love their neighbors WELL.

Salt and light.

And I pray that is true in the village over, too, and after that, too, and if it's NOT, we're sending out transformed young men and women just there, every day, tomorrow too.

The Truth, The Gospel, the Hope, The Way, the Life...it's being planted. 

It's being planted.  

Tomorrow morning, Lord willing, I'll drive the girls to school at the orphanage they love, again.  The girls don't think a thing about their closest friends being orphans, just that their closest friends are their closest friends. I love that, I learn from that.

We will pass other girlies in pigtails and ribbons going other directions to other schools.  We will pass more still playing in yards and waiting in lines at the pumps.  

Broken world. 

In the cracks, run deep, He's being planted.

In the cracks, wide spread, He's being found.

The cracks are not forever.
Broken world is not our home.