For such a time as this

It was about week two of work. I was driving in my pargo (aka golf cart) through the resort to check on people. I saw this Haitian woman picking up trash in the parking lot, so I stopped to say hello. She spoke decent English so our conversation was about ½ English, ½ Creole. We were talking about how funny things are said when learning another language. I agreed and told her about a time when I messed up the Creole words for “to eat” and “boyfriend” because in Creole, they sound similar. That led to her asking if I had a boyfriend or was married. “No,” I responded and told her that I was waiting for God’s timing. She smiled so big and looked so relieved with my response. Seeing her expression, I expounded to say that I was waiting to marry a man who loves Jesus more than he loves me and that I need to love Jesus more than I will ever love this man. Now, almost with tears in her eyes, she said, “It’s so good to see young people like you who love the Lord because not enough young people do.” She hugged me so hard and for a while. I could tell she was on the verge of tears. I asked her if she knew why I came to Orlando for this job. I told her it was because I knew I would get to work with Haitians and that I love Haitians so much and wanted to serve them. She thanked me for coming to serve the poor people and told me repeatedly that God would bless me. Then, standing in the middle of the parking lot, I was unprepared for what was next. She stood tall, held her arms out to her side, looked toward heaven and closed her eyes. Now sobbing, she began to pray for me in Creole, thanking God for me, asking God’s blessings over me. I was so blessed by this woman. I knew at that moment, that this is why I picked up and moved across the country. God had a plan and a purpose for me, and it was being lived out.

I was talking with a friend later and told her what had happened. She said, “Sarah, it’s neat. Maybe God brought you to Florida to interact with the Haitian people, love them with the love of Christ, and be a witness. But maybe it was also just so you could be a source of encouragement to the ones there who already know the Lord.” How right she was.

I don’t write this because I’m proud of my decision to move or because I want people to acknowledge some “great ability” I have to connect with the Haitian people. No. I share this because this is a testimony of the Lord working in and through my life. This is about how He is moving and the gifts and abilities He has created. And these things, to HIM be ALL the glory, are the things He is doing in my life, and the gifts He has bestowed upon me. I share this because God is confirming each and every day that this is where I need to be. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but for such a time as this, this is where He has placed me and this is where I need to serve. May we be encouraged together at what the Lord is doing.

Esther 1-9. “And who knows that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” Esther 4:14

Cultural differences exist in the same country

Mom was with me as we road tripped across country to Orlando, Florida. A two day drive, but it was good time to spend together. I think my favorite seen was when we finally got to Florida, we stopped at the Florida Welcome Center for a couple maps and our free glass of orange juice. But as we pulled up, it was me, mom, and everyone else over the age of 65. My favorite sight: Grandma driving, Grandpa riding shotgun with a flat-brimmed baseball cap on, handicapped sticker hanging on the rearview mirror, and a bird in the birdcage in the backseat. Oh, God bless the Snowbirds!

I’ve noticed a lot of differences in the last month that I’ve been here compared to my Midwest upbringing:

• The grass is different. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s so full and thick, the blades are wider but not as soft.
• There’re palm trees- you just don’t see those in the Midwest.
• Town houses (like what I live in) are everywhere. It must be the way to go in Orlando.
• Alligators are supposedly the deer of the south- but I still haven’t seen one yet =(
• An armadillo is the raccoon roadkill of the south. I saw one the other day when I was with my co-worker. I got a little excited- yes, I’m new. She told me to make sure not to hit them with your car, though, because if you’re going fast, they can overturn your car because of their rock-hard shell.
• Okay, then there’s the road rules. Driving in a city has its own set of rules. On more than one occasion, I’ve come home and drawn out a scenario for my roommate and asked her how you’re really supposed to handle such a situation. For example, if you’re turning right on red, there’s usually a sign posted to say if it’s not allowed. But if there’s no sign, and it’s a red arrow, then doesn’t that imply you shouldn’t turn? I’d think so, but not here. If it’s a red arrow and you yield to oncoming traffic, then go ahead and turn on right…I guess. And if you’re in a turn lane, what’s the point of using your turn signal? Nobody does here, not even the cop I saw yesterday. And U-turns: they are everywhere and are legal; that also requires a learning curve.
• Along with driving, when mom and I were coming down here driving through some of the major cities, we came across those wacko drivers who are speeding 20+ miles over the limit and weaving in and out between vehicles across multiple lanes. I would see someone make such a move, and say, “Oh my gosh! What an idiot! What’s he doing?!” Well, after only a couple weeks in Orlando, I’ll be driving and when I see such a situation, I’ve noticed my attitude has changed slightly. Instead of being ticked by someone’s stupidity, I find myself in admiration, with a slight chuckle to myself saying, “Hey, nice move man. Impressive.”
• I’ve also noticed them temptation to fall into the sin of road-rage. I haven’t cursed anyone out yet, and I’m pretty sure that’s not really part of my nature, but I’ve noticed a slight increase in irritation.

Well, more differences and observations to come I’m sure.

In order to give, one must receive

I flew home from Haiti on August 25th. The next day, I decided to work out at home and go for a run instead of going to town to the fitness center. I knew if I went to town, I would run into a million people and everyone would ask about Haiti. I love to talk about Haiti and am always willing to share, but I knew I just needed to process things first- so what better way than going for a run (at least for me; I know not everyone would agree ☺). As I was running, I prayed, “Lord, this is the first day of I have absolutely no idea what’s next. I’m not scared because You have proven Yourself to me over and over again. I know You have a plan, and I trust that. ‘So here am I, all of me. Take my life; it’s all for Thee,’” (Lyrics from “Take My Life”).

The 25th was a Wednesday so I gave myself until the following Monday to relax before starting the joyous job search. When Monday rolled around, I knew I needed to treat searching for a job like it was my job- so from 8-4:30, Monday through Friday, I spent my time at the table in front of my computer. (The joy of it not being a real job was that I was able to hang out in my favorite red, plaid, flannel boxer shorts all day.) This was the life I lived for the next month- productive, yet not seemingly. I wanted to find a job in the area where I could be an athletic trainer so I could put into practice what I’d spent the last four years learning. I quickly realized, though, that I would likely have to choose between finding a job doing anything so I could stay in the area, or be willing to go anywhere to find an athletic training job. I was open.

There were days where, well, I’ll be honest, I was bitter. I was bored and couldn’t stand having no one around all day while I just sat in front of a computer. To me, being at home this time was different. I wasn’t there for 3 weeks over Christmas, or even 3 months during the summer before school would start. Northwestern had already resumed its classes and I wasn’t there. My friends from college were working real jobs and getting married. The reality of, “I’ve entered the real world,” was finally hitting. I had no idea if I’d be living at home for a month or a year. I had no idea how long I would be jobless. Do I unpack all of my stuff and really move back in, or only what I need so when I do move out, it won’t be so difficult? Josh was living at home too, but he had a job, and at least he could buy his own groceries and not worry about how he was going to fill his gas tank. My family would get home from work and ask me how my day was, and with bitterness I’d say, “Oh ya know. Another 8 hours in front of my computer with no social interaction.” I’m sure I got a little lecture from my dad one night. But it was good. It slapped me to my senses a little as I thought to myself, “Really, Sarah? How many people in this country have been unemployed for months now due to the economy, and you’ve been at this for how many weeks? For goodness sake, girl! Where did you just come from?!?! You spent 3 months in a country where people are living in tents, not knowing where or when their next meal will come, and you are complaining because you have a beautiful roof over your head, plenty of food to eat, surrounded by people that love and care about you?!?!?! Shut up, be thankful, and count your blessings!”

So I did make a conscious effort to be thankful every day, but it was hard. Not because I wasn’t grateful; I was. Mom told me one day, “Sarah, we know the job economy is rough right now. It’s not easy to find a job, but you’re trying and we know that. You just spent the whole summer in Haiti doing wonderful things, so until you find a job, we’re here for you. There’s food for you to eat; we’re not going to just throw you out on the street.” I knew that; I expected that because of the amazing, loving parents that I have. And so, I was grateful, but I was learning something about myself that was hard. God was teaching me a lesson on humility, to a degree I’ve never before experienced. I was reminded that I LOVE to serve, to give, to help, to encourage, to interact. I was also realizing that I was more independent than I knew. However, it’s hard for me to receive. I don’t like that end of it. I don’t know, maybe it’s because when I get to give, I know I’m honoring God and He is pleased. But when I have to ask for help because I can’t do it on my own, and this time, from more than just God but from other humans, does that bring Him honor to? Can I worship Him by receiving? Well, I knew I couldn’t worship Him by receiving with a bad attitude, and so that needed to change.

I had heard before that it’s better to give than to receive, but in order for someone to give, someone must also receive. I knew that was true, and so this time, I was having to learn to be the receiver instead of the giver. But a friend pointed out to me, that maybe in all of this, not only was I learning how to receive, but also how difficult it must be for other people who have to receive. I had never thought about that before. Whenever I give, even if the receiver says, “I can’t take that; it’s too much,” it would make me feel all the more blessed because I sincerely wanted to and could give it all. But now I realize that when you give, you have to be sensitive to the receiver because sometimes, it is nice to receive, and it is a blessing, but I think many of us deal with pride issues and wanting to be self-sufficient, like I was. We don’t want people’s hand-outs. We want to be able to take care of the obstacles in our way and be that giver, humbly and quietly, but we are unable. And so, we must receive.

Jesus tells us to pray for others, but aren’t we also told to ask for prayer for ourselves too? “13 Is any one of you in trouble? He should pray. Is anyone happy? Let him sing songs of praise. 14 Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. 15 And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. 16 Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective,” James5:13-16.

[On September 25th, one month after returning from Haiti, I accepted a job in Orlando, FL and moved there one week later.]

Skydiving- a spiritual exercise

Some of you may remember that back in January, I had the opportunity to speak in chapel. At the end, I challenged everyone to jump off a cliff. Well this past weekend, I didn’t jump off a cliff, but I did have the opportunity to go skydiving, which, is probably higher than a cliff anyway, right??? Leading up to it, people kept asking if I was excited. My simple response was, “Let’s not talk about. I’m trying to not think about it.” And as I told my best friend, “I’m looking at this not as something fun and exciting, but as a spiritual exercise. That honestly was my mindset the whole time, even as I was flying up in the plane before I jumped. I want to elaborate on my experience and how this perfectly correlates into my “Cliff jumping” (now skydiving) chapel speech:

Throughout our lives as Christians, we tell ourselves (and God too) that we are being faithful to Him. We tell Him that we’ll do anything He wants us to and go anywhere He takes us (but in our heads we’re thinking, “But I really do prefer where I’m at right now, and look at all the ministry needs right here! God, it’s probably best for me to stay here.”). So, we walk the walk and we talk the talk.

But what happens when we suddenly realize that God has taken us to the edge of a cliff (or opened up the airplane door) and He says, “Thank you for submitting yourself to Me and telling Me how faithful you are. But now I want you to show Me. Now, if your faith is in Me, I want you to jump.” Is it possible to turn back and not jump? Yeah, we can always say no to God because He gives us the freedom to choose; to say yes or no; to be obedient or disobedient; to be faithful or not; to choose His ways or our ways. But we want to choose His ways, and in our hearts, we really do want to be faithful. So we look out the plane door and realize, the only thing left to do is jump, trusting that God won’t let us fall to our death, but instead, that He’ll give us new life we’ve never experienced before!

But then we start to think again: “But if I really jump, I’m going to have to sacrifice so much. Up until this point, I’ve been able to carry my securities in my luggage- family, support, money, practicality, a job, familiar territory- but now I’m there, inches from falling out of the plane, and I can’t take any of that with me, I have to drop it all, leave it, and jump. All I have is God’s faithfulness to me.” But in the midst of all our fear and doubt, we know that God’s faithfulness is all we need. And while we’re waiting there, feeling the cold gust of wind in our faces, seeing the clouds below without a window in between, the thousands of feet below us, and everything inside of us screaming how insane, dumb, and crazy this is, we get this little sense of peace. We know that not only will the Lord of lords catch us, but He is going to be strapped onto our backs jumping with us. In fact, He’s the one with the parachute. Even if we forget everything we’ve learned along the way and we do everything wrong, His grace for us can’t stop the chute from opening. And so, He says, “Are you ready?”

And we say, “Is it time?”

And He says, “It’s time.” And we go; we jump. We jump! We’re freefalling and it’s CRAZY! But after a couple short seconds, we realize that even though we’re freefalling, it’s not scary anymore. It’s exhilarating! It’s freeing! Our screaming has turned to uncontrollable laughter in the freedom we feel in falling, knowing that everything is going to be fine. And then, after a short time, He pulls the chute. And we stop falling so fast; now we’re just joyously floating down. And we look around at the beautiful view, and are just overwhelmed with goodness at what just happened and what is happening. Just for fun, He soars us around a little; because he’s in control, and He can steer us too.

As soon as we touch the ground, we can’t help but think, “I can’t wait to do that again! I’m ready this second to go back up and jump again!” We realize that the scariest part was the few minutes leading up to it. The jump itself was awesome (after the first couple seconds in which we’re still realizing what we actually did). It was the buildup, the hype, the thoughts that almost made us turn back. But, we did it. And we have no regrets.

When God takes you to the edge, the questions and doubt will come (I’m not old enough, I can’t do it alone, I don’t have enough money and I have students loans, everyone will think I’m crazy and foolish, I don’t have a backup plan, let alone a plan…). But if God clearly takes you up and opens the door to the plane, will you jump? Will I jump? I dare us to, because I’m pretty sure once we land, we’ll have no regrets and want to do it all over again.

Overwhelmed with so many thoughts I have no words

All summer long, we’ve been telling our work teams on their last night in Haiti that when they go home, they need to have a 3 minute speech prepared to tell when people ask, “How was Haiti?” I’ve put that off because I had all summer. But now I’m home, and people are asking, and I’m struggling with my answer. I have so many thoughts, saw God in so many (every) ways, learned so much, and was stretched beyond what I ever thought. So many thoughts but few words to express them (or more words than necessary to try and describe what’s going on in my head =). Here’s my attempt:

• There is a difference between joy and happiness. Happiness is based on our circumstances, but joy comes from the Lord and is renewed each morning. Life after the earthquake for the people of Haiti did not bring happiness. Each day is still a struggle for most everyone. To say that there is great need in Haiti is an understatement. The people there are hungry, need a safe place to live, healthcare, and education. Life is burdensome, onerous, and unyielding. But this is not the end of the story! Despite these things that are true, for basically everyone, the people that know Jesus have so much joy and put me to shame with my lack of joy. They find their joy and their strength in the Lord each day. With every right to complain, they don’t; they praise. Gaston, one of the masons who can work endless hours nonstop mixing concrete recites over 40 verses and passages from scripture by memory. Madame Therese who lost her sister a few weeks ago to malaria continues to dance and sing for the Lord with joy radiating on her face and cares for numerous people in her house beyond her family. The little kids from Jeanty church sing in church from the bottom of their hearts at the top of their lungs, eyes closed, hands raised to the heavens, all praise to Jesus. The adults from the church meet five days a week at 4:30 in the morning to pray, study and memorize scripture, and sing for over an hour. The teens meet at 5:30 in the morning on their own to pray and sing.
  Joy does not come from circumstances. It comes from the Lord. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I call to you all day long.” Psalms 86:3
• You can’t save everyone. This was a hard lesson, especially as I did therapy. You can’t come to Haiti and not be overwhelmed by the need and devastation. It would be so easy to walk away from it feeling hopeless because even if you could do something, it wouldn’t even seem to make a dent in the problems. But I heard a story this summer that stuck with me and showed me the approach we [I] need to have (in Haiti and everywhere). There was a grandfather who saw his grandson off in the distance along the beach throwing starfish who had been brought on the shore by the tide back in the water to try and save them. The grandfather went to his grandson and told him he might as well quit because he could walk forever along the shore throwing starfish back in the ocean and he’d never save them all. The grandson picked up another starfish and said, “But to this one, it does matter because his life has been saved,” and he threw it back in the ocean.
  I wanted to save everyone, but I couldn’t. But God didn’t send me to Haiti to save everyone. He just wanted me to love the people he put in my path every day because to that one person, I could make a difference and touch a life.
• We’re really the same. Every other time I’ve gone to Haiti, I’ve been hesitant to do certain things because I realized I was the foreigner and felt the need to just watch, observe, and learn from them. I did not want to impose my American ways on them or offend them because of my cultural ignorance. However, after being there three months this time, I began to feel a part of the community. I saw the cultural differences, but those seemed to be just that- cultural. At the heart of most things, we really are more similar than different. One way I saw this was in the example of beauty. The beginning of the summer, I had my hair braided by some girlfriends of mine. When they were done, I had twelve random braids sticking ridiculously out of my head. But, oh, it was so beautiful they told me. I wasn’t sure I saw that beauty. Cultural difference: what they think is pretty in Haiti isn’t necessarily pretty in the U.S. and visa versa. However, in my last weeks in Haiti, I had the opportunity to meet with my group of teenage girls. As we talked, I learned that girls everywhere desire the same thing- to feel beautiful and know they are loved. This is not cultural; this is the way God made us.

To my dearest family and friends in Haiti and at Lifeline: I love and miss you so much. I’m realizing more and more that home is not where four walls meet and a bed lies within those walls. Home is where the people you love are. The U.S. is my home because I have many people I love here. But Haiti, you are my home too. Thank you for welcoming me in as one of your own. I cannot wait for the day when the Lord presents me with the opportunity to return to you. Until then, know you are constantly on my heart and mind and in my prayers.

The hardest thing You've asked of me

I think the first time I really ever felt out of my element in Haiti was the first day I was in clinic this summer. I felt so unqualified to do what God wanted me to do. But as you know, God worked through that whole experience and taught me a lot. However, two weeks ago, I experienced something else that was even more challenging in some ways.

With each team that came to Haiti this summer, we took them to Jeanty church one night (Jeanty is the name of a nearby community). It is a small but thriving and growing church. I LOVE going there; they are the most welcoming and loving people, and every service is full of heartfelt, lively worship. Pastor Julio’s wife works at Lifeline, and she asked me one day the end of July if I was going to sing the next time I came to Jeanty. I responded with, “Maybe I can do that,” thinking I was going to be leaving Haiti before I would be returning to Jeanty so I would be off the hook. Well, as it turned out, I stayed another month and had two more opportunities to return to Jeanty. It was on the back of my mind that first week that they may ask me to sing (in Haiti, there’s not a lot of warning about these type of things. It would probably be something like the Pastor seeing me from the pulpit and calling me out in front of the congregation to come up and sing.). There was a woman, Weena, on the workteam who I had become friends with and asked her if she would want to quickly learn a song and sing it with me in case they called me up. She has a beautiful voice and a heart for music so she quickly learned the Creole song. We got to church, worshiped with them, but they never called me up. Whew; got past that easy enough.

Well, a couple weeks later we returned to Jeanty; this was my last time going before I was really coming home to the States. I had kind of forgotten about the song thing until a couple hours before we left. I knew there was a chance they’d call me up, but they didn’t last time, so they probably wouldn’t this time. We got to church, and as I sat down, I realized I was sitting next to Pastor Julio’s wife. A few minutes later, she leaned over and, of course, asked if I was going to sing. I panicked a little…I didn’t have a partner to sing with me this time. I also get a lot of attention from the Haitian people because they know me from being there so long, and I didn’t want to put myself on a pedestal in front of the Americans to show off my relationships with the Haitians or how well I knew Creole. I tried to come up with every excuse possible to not, but she just was not buying any of it. After a few minutes of this, she said, “So can you sing?” I clutched my camera case so hard. See the problem was not singing in front of the Haitian people; it was singing in front of the Americans.

One thing that I love about Haiti each time I come is their heart for worship. They understand that when they worship, it’s not about a show or impressing the other people sitting next to them. They don’t debate in their heads if it’s okay to stand up, clap their hands, or raise their hands, because, it doesn’t matter what other people think. They’re not there to worship or please men, but God. I think most Christians in the States, myself included, so easily miss the point of worship in our churches because we are so concerned by these things and our appearance before men. I don’t consider myself to be a singer. I can sing in a choir, but I’m no soloist. But in Haiti, that doesn’t matter. There are Haitians who can’t sing a pitch, but they will stand up in front of a congregation and sing a solo to the Lord, and everyone just encourages them. I knew if I sang, it would mean so much to my Haitian brothers and sisters. This was no longer about attention for myself, but obedience and worship to my Lord.

I told her I could. A couple minutes later, I got called up front to sing. All my fears and inhibitions escaped me as I said, “I want to sing a song tonight, but I want to sing it to the Lord. I think it’s a song many of you know, so if you know it, sing with me.” And I began my favorite song in Creole: You’re holy, You’re good, You’re able, You’re mighty, You’re powerful, Lord. Everywhere on the earth people are singing You’re holy, good, able, mighty, and powerful.

It's a Revival!

(I'm trying to get caught up with a few entries since I last blogged. This is from around August 15th.)

Lifeline has been in Haiti for 30 years, and 2 ½ weeks ago, Lifeline’s church in Grand Goave celebrated their first church service 30 years ago with a revival that lasted all weekend. Lifeline has numerous churches all over Haiti and so people came from all the churches to celebrate and praise together. It was fantastic to see so many people there. Probably over 2000 people! There were people cooking out of the school kitchen to feed the masses- spaghetti one night (Haitian spaghetti), Haitian bread with a homemade hot chocolate-like drink for breakfast, rice and beans, beef (I didn’t try that one, but I saw the carcass☺). The worship began in the early morning at 4:00 or earlier and went until 10:00 p.m. or later each night. It was continuous singing, dancing, praying, preaching, and teaching. People were camped all over Lifeline’s compound, in the school, and in the clinic for this event. There were tap-taps (Haitian taxis) and vehicles parked everywhere and coming and going with people. It was incredible!

A highlight of the weekend was that a group of kids from the children’s home came to stay at Lifeline for the weekend (since they are located near Port au Prince). There were about 20 girls and they all stayed up in the dorm with me and two other girls who were at Lifeline throughout August. It was so much fun to live with these girls for 3 days and see how they live- their morning and night routines. I’m sure they were just as curious about us. In fact, I know they were as they would stare at us get ready in the morning (contact lenses are quite foreign to them), watch us do our hair, or put makeup on. One of the funniest things happened to Kelsi, one of the other Americans. She forgot to put her (electric) toothbrush away one night and noticed it was moved the next morning. Fearing it may have been used by someone else, she opted not to brush her teeth. She went to the bathroom, and while in the stall, heard the sound of her electric toothbrush turn on. She peaked her head above the door to see what was going on, and caught a couple of the girls using her toothbrush to brush their eyebrows! HAHAHA, too funny. I think the girls dropped the toothbrush and ran. Toothbrush, eyebrow brush, I guess it could be used for both. (Note: Kelsi got a new toothbrush to use for her remaining days in Haiti.)