Wednesday, February 20, 2013
I didn’t go the American dream route. I don’t have an education to brag about, no savings account to speak of. I don’t even have many friends left after the toll the last 5 years has taken. I don’t have much, I come pitifully unequipped but I come completely willing.
If nothing else, the past 5 years have taught me to come to Him with open hands and a willing spirit. While I am rocking one of these precious babies I don’t feel like I am changing the world but then that one lives and he gets bigger and stronger and he lights up in a smile when I walk in the room. No, I didn’t change the world but I changed his… That’s ok with me.
Now I see him sporadically. I’m not there every day but he still smiles when I come in the door. Now my days are filled with another. A little girl who seems so privileged to me. She’s never known life before I gave her everything I could. She’s never been one of a dozen. Serving her comes harder to me, it doesn’t feel as necessary. She needs my love yes, but it seems like the others need it so much more. Daily I push that lie aside, the whisper that says the hours I spend with her are less important than the ones I spend "serving” others.
15 months ago I said yes to a tiny life joining mine. When I did, I said yes to giving her everything I could. I said yes to teaching her the Truth, even when I struggled to understand it. I said yes to family, which means sometimes I put her above everything else that is demanding my attention. I said yes and so I chose to say it again, every day.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a struggle to love her, to commit to her. But when it means taking a step back from my passions, it is hard. I used to have hours upon hours to give to babies who needed love. Now I have one of my own. I still do my best to pour into the others but for this time, in this season, she is my mission field.
It is no less important than the mission that I have been on for the past years, but it is harder to understand and much harder to explain to the world. I live here through the support, both spiritual and financial, of you. Truly, you. The ones who read these words are the ones who enable me to be here. 100% of my financial support is given through this blog. You who read my stories, the ones that are “just life” to me, and see them as important. You, who don’t hold it against me when I go into myself and don’t share for weeks at a time. For over a year your dollars have allowed me to stay here.
Now I have to ask you again to believe in me. To believe in this mission that I am called to. I need regular monthly support to continue living in Haiti. Just $15 a month from you are what makes it possible and allows me to live here. Without it I won’t be able to and I can’t even fathom the idea. Leaving here means leaving, not just a part of my heart but all of it! It would mean leaving my daughter! I don’t even think about it happening, I refuse to entertain the idea, I am trusting entirely that I will not happen.
While I continue to seek His will for me here in Haiti I depend on you to give me the resources to afford that time. I don’t make the request without a lot of prayer and heaps of humility. It’s not an easy place for me to be but it is a necessary part of this life. I trust that there are some of you out there who have been called to be my sending force, who will agree to support me in this crazy life. While I pray for Him to fill my days with undeniable purpose, you do the same. Some are the senders and some are the sent, neither one more important than the other.
Every day I wake up in a room with bars on the windows, I breathe in the smell of greasy food and I take in the sounds of dogs, chickens and goats. I wake up and beg Him to use little broken me. I hope beyond hope that He will find something in me that He will use. Our sights, sounds and smells are different but I have no doubt each of us has the same longing desire, to have the kind of stuff He’ll use.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
4 years ago an ordinary miracle occurred. In a single moment, on the cement floor of a tin roofed shack, the world changed with his single breath.
I wonder often what he looked like that day. I wonder if he was alert, listening to this mother’s whispers, recognizing the sound of her voice. I wonder if he had a head of dark curls that she kissed, I wonder how many times she counted his toes and examined him, declaring him “perfect”.
And I wonder, on that same day 4 years ago, what I was doing. I wonder if my heart skipped a beat in that single second. I wonder if, in that moment, something deep down inside of me knew him. I wonder if that was the day I started missing my son. I didn’t know that anything had changed but suddenly everything was different, because even though I had no idea, my son had just been born.
I wouldn’t meet him until 18 months later but on that February day in 2009 God’s plan was unfolding. His son, my son, was not in my arms on that night but he has always been in His hands.
The 2 amazing birthdays I shared with him were a gift that I will spend the rest of my life thanking Jesus for. Tonight, once again, he is not in my arms but he is still and always will be, in His hands.