April 26, 2016
I’m sitting right now on a balcony at New Life Children’s Home in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. We just finished the 3 hour trip from Marigot, where we spent the week, back to Port-au-Prince. We leave New Life early tomorrow morning to start our long trek back to Indianapolis.
Thinking back over the past week and a half, I’ve just become so grateful for the prayers of our family and friends back home. I started this trip on a physical, emotional, and spiritual low. I was completely exhausted, drained, and not ready to give. I knew that I couldn’t do this trip on my own. Right before we left, a friend prayed for me that I would go, not in my strength, but in God’s strength. And, oh, has His strength and sovereignty been proven.
While waiting for our plane in Miami at 5:30 in the morning, I stumbled across Psalm 59:9-10a, which says, “O my strength, I watch for you; you, O God, are my fortress, my loving God.”
It has become my anthem throughout this trip.
“O my strength, I watch for you; you, O God, are my fortress, my loving God.”
Every day when I’ve been too tired to keep going, and it is only noon, God is strong enough. The day when there were 26 girls from the ages of 2-14 in the back of a tap-tap (a modified pickup), and none of them spoke English, God is still strong enough. When I’m hot and sweaty, or feeling sick, or just sick and tired of kids asking for candy, God is still strong.
God is also sovereign.
From the chance meetings in the street, to the kids that latch on to you, play with your hair, and fall asleep in hot, sweaty bundles on you, God is sovereign. When you’re tired, He brings a kid to smile at you, an old lady to give you a hug, or an encouraging word from one of your teammates. For example, one night I was awake late because I was feeling sick so I had a chance to talk and pray with my roommate when she came in, but if I hadn’t been awake, I never would have had that opportunity.
Every day when I’ve been too tired to keep going, and it is only noon, God is strong enough.
In spite of my tiredness, in spite of the heat and bugs, I have fallen in love with this country.
Even in love with the crazy, bumpy roads and the inelegant, colorfully painted tap-taps.
I love how easy it is to make the kids smile—a piece of candy, a simple balloon, a pat on the head, a hug.
I love the openness to the gospel. I love the former voodou priests who are crazily excited about the gospel.
I love hearing Creole spoken in prayers, a rapid, rolling waterfall of corrupted French.
I love the mountains. I love the little schools nestled high in the mountains, often an hour or more hike from the nearest passable road.
This country is needy. They have immense physical needs. Medical care is basically nil, or too expensive. Starvation runs rampant. Poverty is everywhere. But larger than the physical needs are the spiritual needs. Over the course of the past week and a half, we’ve had a chance to see first hand the darkness that voodou has cast over Haiti. Please pray for spiritual light to invade the darkness.
Thank you all so much for praying for us!
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