I tell myself that a lot. That the God I serve is the same today as He was last year, when I flew into Haiti with no idea of what was coming. He hasn’t changed. Everything else in my life has, but not Him. My God is the same as He was before the my world was shaken.
Last week I was listening to the radio and a song came on that I had never heard before. The phrase was repeated, Jesus please come, please come today. For the first time in my life I found my heart aching for the possibility. There was no fear or dread or frantic thought of the things I have still to do. Just a longing for that day, when this world is finally over. No more being torn by the life I left behind. No more crying for the pain of this world and my helplessness to change it. No more missing babies who I have held, or people at home. No more aching for anything because every perfect moment in this world has paled in comparison to what is now eternity. I long for that.
Exactly one year ago today I flew back to Haiti with my heart full to the brim. 2 days later I stood outside in a concrete yard while aftershocks rocked the ground and my entire life’s work flashed before my eyes. As I lie on the ground that night surrounded by the even breathing of sleeping babies, a seed that had been planted almost 2 years earlier began to grow. As the roots took place, though the pain of their burrowing I was content and fulfilled. In the last year as that seed has continued to grow, through the moments of fatigue and yearning I have learned so much about what my purpose here on earth is to be. Even in the last few weeks, as that purpose has become more clear I find myself clinging to the simplicity of why I continue on and who gives me the reason and the strength.
Something inside of me cried out, subconsciously to “Jezi” when that earthquake hit. The first words out of my mouth were His name. That call did not diminish when the morning light opened my eyes to the devastation around me. On the contrary, in the last year I have turned to the only hope that still stands. Through tears of sadness and moments of anger and despair, I have clung to the Lord who sustained me. Because faith, being sure of what I hope for and certain of what I do not see, is burrowed deep in my soul. Faith is my God, Who is, Who was and Who always will be.