nothing, with hope

It was well after midnight that we finally had everyone snug in their beds last night, all bags, all kiddos, all safe and sound. It was a long day, but a good one, and lots of time with the kiddos to process and snuggle and slow down a big from an awful lot of...lot. 

All we had to do yesterday was get from our home to Grandpa's home.

That sounds simple.  

And as we all enjoyed the simple things today...blueberries, banisters, carpet, a/c, smooth roads, bicycles, bunnie rabbits, the dishwasher, a cool day, errands with grandpa, ice cream, birthday dinner for Sofie...they were big deals.

Nora keeps announcing, "this place (America) does not have mud or people on the road!" "This place has lots of lights!" "This place is very fancy!" 

There is so much of His work to do and so many beautiful people to work with and for and we work so hard to be strong and courageous and focused on Him that I forget how HARD our home is. 

It is hard, in so many ways.

I forget that...until I return to a life I once knew, and it's almost overwhelming. 

one small example.

Every day, every person, every home on the island of Haiti, it's all about WATER. It's a big deal...getting it, cleaning it, keeping it, using it over and over...tomorrow, getting it again.  Getting water starts and ends the day, purifying it consumes hours of the day...dealing with it when there is no rain, when the pump is dry, when the water is contaminated, paying for it. Water.  It's a LOT of work and worry, every day's first focus.

And we walk down the terminal and there are shiny silver "water machines" the girls call them (water fountains), just everywhere. And they are cleanish. And cold. And safe to drink. And FREE. And for EVERYONE.  and when you go in the bathroom you don't touch a thing and you wave your hand like bibity bopity boo in there air and THERE IS WATER.  Just pouring out. Free.

In a matter of two hours, WATER went from the primary focus of everyone's day to not even a miniscule focus of anyone's day, but three little mesmerized blond girls I couldn't get out of the bathroom. 

Roads. There are roads.

And power, suddenly I don't know anyone who doesn't have power in their homes, instead of a minute ago, knowing so very few people who DO. 

And.

And.

My three-year-old calls nasty airport water fountains FANCY.  

And they were not at all fancy in the life I grew up in and they absolutely ARE, miracle fancy, in the life they are growing up in. 

We took Sofie to dinner tonight, somehow EIGHT, and she was mesmerized, they were mesmerized, and thrilled. There was so much food, and the food, it wasn't about surviving, it was about having fun, and "how did it come so FAST?" Lily kept asking, making me realize how very long absolutely everything takes at home. 

The waiter asked where we were from, and Matt quickly just said "close by" because my dad lives 2 seconds away and that answer makes it easier. But one of the girls quickly announced, "NO, we are not from close by!  We are from Haiti!" and our waiter randomly, totally bizarrely said, "I'm from Thailand, but I know they have a lot of voodoo stuff in Haiti, a lot of scary stuff I've heard about, but you know? A witchdoctor from Haiti told me once that even with all that stuff they do, that he and his friends couldn't do anything against Christians. He said they sure tried, but it never worked, and that they didn't have any power against the Christians, just over everyone else, so, that's scary stuff, but, don't be afraid, man."

He moved right on to North Dakota and guns and Obama and my heavens, a dozen other things, but...did we really leave Haiti yesterday morning, be totally overwhelmed today with how hard life in Haiti is, and then have our waiter at our restaurant remind us that our God is mighty, and encourage us never to be afraid?

This complicated, simple lovely morning, I was clinging to Romans 8 and God shed shades of light on it that I've never read it through.

You do NOT live according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit...

I consider the sufferings of this present time not worth comparing with the glory that is to be...

now hope that is seen is not hope. 

If we wait with hope for what we do not see, we will wait for it with patience...

Likewise the Spirit HELPS us in our weakness...

We do not know what to pray for, but the Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words...

Jesus Christ is the one who died, and he is the one interceding for us...

We are more than conquerors through Him who loves us, 

and I am SURE that NOTHING...in all of creation will be able to separate us from the great love of the Father.

The Spirit helps Haiti in her weakness. We don't even know what to pray for, but He intercedes. His own son not sparing, what shall separate Haiti from the rich love of Christ?  Shall tribulation? Shall distress? Shall nakedness? Or Famine? Or Danger? Or Sword?

Nothing.

It doesn't say there will BE no tribulation. No distress. No nakedness. No hunger. No danger. No violence.

He says that these things that certainly will be, will-never-CAN-never separate us from His great love.

Nothing shall separate Haiti from the great, sacrificial love of the Father.

My hope then, for Haiti, Cheri, is based not on what I see: 

the difficulty, the roads, the water, the hunger, the tribulation, the danger, the corruption, the sword.  

I wait with hope NOT for that stuff to alleviate, NOT for those things to improve, but I WAIT with HOPE  for what I canNOT see with my physical eyes...but can see full well with my spiritual ones: His GREAT love for Haiti, for each one. For the world. For each one. For you.

My hope, then, (do not be afraid, man) is all built on His great love for His children, the same great,  unconquerable love He has for me.  Fancy-world me or hard-world me, it's all just built on His love for His children, that neither height nor depth nor angels nor rulers nor powers nor things to come can separate.

That.  That I can build on.

So we will wait for it with patience. 

With hope.