GreenGate

OK, I'll hang in there a little longer

Ha.  It is almost time for bed, but I am in the frame of mind to write something in this space. 

We had visitors last week, Anslee and Chris Delastic,  and it was great to think about Haiti through their eyes.  Much happened.

One of my students had a flashback from when he was trapped under rubble for one hour. He had to leave class and when I prayed for him, he was clammy and shaking.  His arm has been through surgery, and his main goal in life is to be an NFL football player. Our friends saw World Relief sites, and we ate at a fancy restaurant - sushi and tuna tartar. We caught Maxo dancing in the kitchen with his earbuds in his ears.  I had to announce to my senior boys to stop hugging me as I was starting to get embarassed.  :) Anna went with the 10th graders to Village Espoir and had a blast with disabled Haitian kids.  Anslee spoke to my discipleship group and Chris traveled 3 hours to Hinche where Paul Farmer has his Zami Lasante hospital.  We stayed up talking more than usual and visited the place that Maxo is trying to buy and put up a house. After buying souvenirs, they left Saturday.   It was super encouraging to have someone come visit! 

This morning, I stayed home from church. If you knew how much I love our church, you would find that odd.  But I needed to have time with the Lord, just us.  It was good to have that uninterrupted time and think through some decisions/ideas/goals, etc.  I don't yet have the clarity I will surely eventually get, but it was refreshing. 

Tomorrow is another week. A water truck will come deliver water as our reservoir is empty, and I have a pile of papers yet to grade.  But it is a sweet and peaceful Sunday night.  Sweet dreams!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walking with the Lord

It is likely that I will close out this little blog space. It has been a great friend during my first two years in Haiti, connected me to people I love and helped me to process day-to-day life here. In any kind of leavetaking, I want to check up on where I am with the Lord. That is the bottom line of all things good and worthwhile. What am I learning, how is He revealing Himself to me?

I read the verse recently, "Our hope is in a living God."  That is such a fundamental idea that God is alive and working, moving, otherwise all we do is pointless.  This semester I have had a series of days where I could see that the point to my life is God's purposes and His glory and all the rest of it is white noise distraction.  That even if my little wants and supposed needs were met, my soul will not find its satisfaction in that, but only in God's purposes being fulfilled, actually in God Himself. 

When my eyes are on that, it doesn't matter who likes/appreciates me (in fact, concern over that appears to be my sin that so easily entangles), but it matters that I am less and He is greater. 

I have also been thinking about the way that we fill up certain areas of our lives with certain of God's truths.  Like those old popsicle makers with 6 holes, you put juice in each compartment and freeze them.  We have a hole where we know that we should love, so we pick certain people to be objects of our "godly love" and feel we are good in that area. Then, we know we should become compassionate, so we choose another compartment in our lives and fill that up with compassion.  Then, we're good on that. But His love must penetrate every compartment, every hole and our most bland relationship must have that love poured over it, pouring out of us.

I also think that choosing useful, productive busy-ness might be necessary for a season, but if we are pushing to fill up our time with too much due to our pride and need to feel important, we are likely missing out on something God wants to do in/through us.

Finally, I see that I used to think by age 50 or so, my godliness would be so second nature, that I would hardly need to turn to the Lord, it would just kind of flow effortlessly.  But I realize that in growing older, there are new ways to harden in sinful, selfish attitudes and tougher battles to fight than ever before. That I am sorely in need of a Savior and forgiveness every blessed day.  But also that the well of Jesus' love is fathomless, profound and sufficient.  He can always turn it around and pull us back to Himself.

I hope I live a long time. I hope I grow in understanding myself. I hope I can do wonderful things in Christ.  But really, the bottom line is that I, like many people I know, am drawn like a magnet by the unceasing wonder of a relationship with Jesus. 

Love,

Tina 

 

 

Demolir

Today was the day that John and I went over with Natasha and Maxo to the "terrain" or bit of property they are purchasing month by month.  Today, the second payment was scheduled, and we had some questions before handing over such a big chunk of money.  First on the list was whether or not the owner had registered the transaction with the government, something he promised to do before we made the second payment.  Much to our dismay, we wound through alleyways, past doorways, interrupted some kids playing and finally got to Maxo's plot where we saw BIG red letters on the house next door.  The writing said, "Demolir!" 

"What???"  I said to Maxo. 

"Uh, it looks like the mayor is demolishing this whole row of houses."  Maxo said, obviously dismayed.  Sure enough, we looked down the line of pitiful looking cement hovels and they all said "demolir."

When we got to the owner of Maxo's property, he was sitting on on a broken board balanced on the old metal frame of a chair.  We pointed to the letters.  He grinned and bobbed his head. "Oh, yes, that is something the mayor is doing.  It's a project." 

When we patiently explained that we didn't want to pay for a bit of property, put a house on it and then have it torn down, he said, "But we don't know for SURE that this is going to happen to YOUR house." 

"Well, yes, but it would be kind of a pain if it did, right?" 

Anyway, he hadn't gone to register the sale with the government, didn't know anything about the demolition of all of the houses leading up to the one Maxo and Natasha were purchasing, but felt sure that if we paid him the money we had brought, it would all work out just fine.  After great gesticulating, disagreement and arguing and more Creole than my brain could hold, John left to go get AR and we walked away. On the way out, we stopped to talk to neighbors who said that this was a new thing, the demolition. No, the man hadn't known when he sold us the land most likely. No, they didn't know if and when this demolition would take place. BUT, they said, ALL of the houses in the area were no good anyway, as when it rains, they all come crashing down. 

"Isn't that kind of difficult for so many families?"  I asked.

"Oh, yes, very difficult," they said, smiling.

Crud.

So, Maxo, Natasha and I walked home together and talked it all through. It actually was the longest conversation we've ever had.  We talked about honesty, about how discouraged Natasha is, about people who drink alchohol vs. those who don't, and laughed about funny things that have happened. Then, we sat on the stairs together and prayed about it.  

Watching the sky grow darker, sitting with Maxo and Natasha, there was a sweet sense that God knows about their situation and how to help them.  After all, they are no longer in a tent, after all, they all have enough to eat, after all their kids are in school, after all . . .  

Of Love

In my British Lit. class, we recently talked about Francis Bacon. I imagine Francis Bacon had an enormously well-developed self-esteem.  He wrote all of those essays like "Of Studies" or "Of Truth," "Of Death" and "Of Goodness."  He tackled the big things and felt he was the man to do it.

Not to be too smarmy, but it is near Valentine's Day and I am thinking about love and how freely it is given to me pretty much every day.  Today, a little friend in 2nd grade told me when I asked if she had finished her V-Day cards, "Yes!  I made you the biggest and prettiest one with the best hearts on it!"  Wow. And then she told me she made one for Hannah (her name for AR) and was going to make one for Ella, our cat.  Her love is boundless.  Every day she gives me GREAT hugs and sometimes eats the food off of my plate.  See, I like that because it feels like we're kind of like family.  She even has a friend who now comes and gives me big hugs in a sort of Jumping-on-the-Bandwagon way.  Its wonderful.

I now have two seniors who hug me regularly.  I wasn't too sure that was quite professional of me to let them do that, but they do it with such sweetness and kind of when I'm not looking, so I've succumbed to the sheer pleasure of being loved by them. The other day I asked one of them if he wanted to memorize some extra lines in Shakespeare and he said, "If you want me to."  

Next week we are having some Valentine's activities at school.  Kids can buy flowers and serenades for each other.  One of my ninth graders asked if I would like it if she bought me a serenade.  I said, "Sure!"  She asked me after school for my favorite song so she could make sure I liked the song.  What I failed to explain in that rushed moment is that she could have someone sing me the theme song from Popeye and I'd feel honored. :)  Its the love behind it that is so sweet.

All of the daily self-sacrificing John does is truly love articulated.  I came around the corner in our house tonight and caught him learning the sweet song from the movie Babe.  I had said that someday I wanted him to sing that song. So, he is in there learning it. Wow, again.  He doesn't know I caught him, so don't tell him I know.

Francis Bacon writes, "[Love] doth much mischief, sometimes like a siren; sometimes like a fury."

And also,  "There is in man's nature, a secret inclination and motion, towards love of others, which if it be not spent upon some one or a few, doth naturally spread itself towards many, and maketh men become humane and charitable; as it is seen sometime in friars."

But really, what does he know?  I bet no one ever made him the biggest Valentine or learned the Babe song for him.

Happy Valentine's Day, friars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

Singin'

Right now there is some really great music going on outside of the window by my head.  It has some fast clapping along with it. One person is singing a line and a whole herd of people are echoing.  It makes me want to go over and join in.  But I think I'm going to write here instead.

Living in Haiti has so many distinct contradictions.  We are learning more of them lately, and I find that the more I learn, the trickier it is to write on this blog. The first year it was easy as pie. Everything was new and strange and just going to the bank was an adventure. Now, we know more.  

Recently, we've heard some stories that are truly stop-you-in-your-tracks kind of accounts.  Today, I had a conversation with a woman who, along with her husband, is trying to adopt two girls. They have been working on this for two years.  She tells me the orphanage director has raised a great deal of money from churches in the states, but rather than use it for the kids in the orphanage, he has built a home in the Dominican, one in Florida, and is slowly amassing his fortune.  He keeps the kids in good enough shape to avoid trouble for himself, yet bad enough to attract more donors.  This woman sees boxes of donated shoes and orphans with bare feet; money raised for orphanage workers who do not really work at the orphanage; children who should have enough to eat, hungry and mis-treated.

The danger of sharing stories like this is that they make us want to dismiss all of Haiti and never try to help so we won't be fooled. But we are called to be "wise as serpents and innocent as doves."  We can't just send money and not follow-up to see how it is spent.  We also can't look for simplistic, feel-good solutions that let us walk away scot free with no complications and no responsiblity.  

John and I were talking today in the car about Haiti (pretty much a common topic 'round here), and about how even in the established churches there are pastors leveraging their jobs for the money they can bring in from donors.  Gross.  Then, we started giving examples of people we know who aren't like that. Their common denominator is that they are poor.  The outliers. The marginal and vulnerable.  Not to sweepingly generalize about the poor in Haiti, but it seems that they are the ones most authentically faithful, excited about the gospel.  Their quest for power and wealth isn't going very well.  So, they are singing, outside of my window. Still.  Still clapping.  Still singing.  Let's join 'em.

 

On a roll

It feels like God is on a roll. 

Sometimes we can't share World Relief business as it is too sensitive, and sometimes we can't share personal victories if it involves others' personal lives, but I have to say, I am amazed at how real God's presence in our lives feels lately.

Last night, John was wrestling with a certain decision related to World Relief. He had no peace about moving forward with a certain plan, but there was no logical reason not to according to those around him.  Finally, we prayed sitting in the kitchen for God to show him, "Yes, move forward" or " No, stop."  John said, "Tina, I don't know how God can show me if its a "no."  I shrugged my shoulders. 

Today, he wrote a quick email explaining the way God brought it all to a screeching halt without him having to do a thing.  The "No" was clear.  What a relief. 

God also answered a specific prayer of mine through the most unlikely solution imaginable.  I wish I could give details but maybe over coffee later.

How does He do that?  How is He so big and strong, yet so amazingly smart and detail oriented?

I visited the World Relief office today as Monday, I only teach one class at school.  It was so good to be with the staff and check in.  In about one hour, I heard of three communities that had bad cholera, no clean water or latrines; now they have water and sanitation covered.  There is the dedication of a new church building WR built, I get to go in a few weeks.  Small scale farmers were lined up in the lobby signing up for the agro-business, micro-finance program. I talked to several who are excited to be raising their own chickens and goats. A team is visiting from a church - self proclaimed advocates for Haiti. Its wonderful. It was like God saying, "Cool, right?" 

Life isn't always this amazing, but today it sure feels pretty dang amazing, like God is on a roll. 

Pastor pumping water from a WR well.

 

Its so wierd

I am home sick today and I wrote a post, just deleted. What is so weird is that I think I knew it wasn't the right post to send out all along.

Instead I want to send this out.

God is a bedrock of faithfulness. As the song "Pass me Not O Gentle Savior" says, our trust in Him is, "not based on our own merits."  As AR has quoted lately, "We do not depend on our own faith, but on His faithfulness."  -A. W. Tozer

He absolutely has things in hand.

We cannot see it or control it.  We must not forget that every day, every day, we are going to get up, have solid confidence in His power and ability to change us and those around us for the better.  Then, we're going to drive a stake into the bottom line fact of His goodness for us and hold on tight.

OK, that's the post for today. Write back and tell me about your good declarations of God and His goodness toward you.  Love.

 

 

 

 

Haiti, Two Years After the Earthquake

World Relief is reflecting on Haiti Two Years after the Earthquake.  I thought I would do my own reflecting. Here is the result:

Two Years Later

I remember arriving in Haiti a few months after the earthquake of January 2010.  My first thought was, “I cannot possibly bring my daughter to this place.” We were preparing to leave jobs, find renters, pack up what we could bring in suitcases and move with our 14-year-old daughter to the crushed city of Port-au-Prince.  As my husband and I wound through streets filled with rubble, past collapsed houses, I wondered what on earth could possibly help Haiti.  We did move that August and began to build a life that feels like “normal” now.  But reflecting on the progress of Haiti over the past two years is very personal to me and requires a level of painful reflection in the midst of the statistics, hopefulness and disappointment.

Befriending World Relief staff meant entering into their stories.  World Relief’s building collapsed during the earthquake and one of the pretty, charming program managers Nerlandé Pierre, had to be dragged out, thankfully suffering no permanent damage.  Records were lost, computers smashed under rubble and by the time I had arrived for my visit, WRH had occupied their new building for four days

Fougeré, a driver for World Relief, tried to describe the horror of Jan. 12 and its aftermath.  He told me on one long drive that he had vomited every day for a week, that he couldn’t think or function, and that he had to pass a building where his friend, trapped, called out to him until he died. Fougeré could do nothing to help him.  Foungeré”s family was left without a place to live, especially difficult as he has a handicapped daughter.

Madame Elima, the employee who has worked the longest for WRH, lost her oldest daughter to the earthquake. This daughter was in her last year at a Haitian university.  I heard that Mme Elima and her three small adopted children lived for a time in a tent on the median of a busy road.

I teach and tutor three girls and two boys who lost a parent in the earthquake.  Sometimes they write about the pain of that in their journals for my English class.  Their single parents share the difficulty of raising children alone; others tell me about losing close relatives and friends. One father cried during a parent conference explaining that perhaps the reason his son is not doing as well as he could in school is because he has no mother now. 

Life is split for most people into before the earthquake and after the earthquake. 

However, there are signs of progress.  Though articles abound on the mismanagement of aid money given to help Haiti and the tragically slow progress, many of us who live there day to day see progress everywhere.  Fewer streets are impassable due to rubble. Buildings have been repaired or taken down and the materials used to rebuild.  Haitians are healing and moving on.  Last year, every church had a memorial service on Jan. 12^th, and the beauty of standing room only congregations with candles in their hands, praying, brought hope like nothing else.

Haiti’s new controversial president entered office without a coup d’état.  Anticipation that the transition would cause widespread violence didn’t materialize.  Cholera is still a threat. The poverty is still striking, and the lack of services and infrastructure disheartening, but these are mostly not new issues, but the old ones which will take brilliance, integrity and confidence in a powerful God to solve. 

I look at World Relief Haiti and am so proud of the nearly one million coffee trees planted in Thiotte, the houses built in Leogane, the wells giving water to hurting communities. I was personally introduced to some goats for our new goat project, and hear about the tree stumps they are digging out at the demonstration farm. I see Carrefour Feuille with a school built by WRH and our staff of over 40 working hard together. I know others committed on a small or large scale – Haitians and ex-pats – to rebuilding Haiti.  Many are thoughtful and compassionate.  No one is foolish enough to imagine that Haiti is “out of the woods” or that there are not enormous and complex problems needing years and the gospel to address.

Nerlandé, the program manager in charge of OVC, Orphans and Vulnerable Children, just married and the staff went to celebrate with her. She will not forget her time trapped in the rubble of the old World Relief office, but she is joyfully starting a new life.

Recently, Fougeré built a small house on some land he bought a while ago and has moved his family into it.  He has a truck now, enabling him to transport his handicapped daughter to church.  He can see God’s hand and provision in all of this, though when I first came, he was dealing with the questions and bitterness inevitable after a disaster of this magnitude.  We have a standing invitation to visit and plan to after the holidays.

Madame Elima, a faithful and respected worker for World Relief, has housing now and continues to diligently serve the children at 40 churches giving vaccinations and health advice. 

When we left Haiti to come to the states for Christmas this time, my daughter said, “It used to feel like we were visiting Haiti and coming to the states was coming home. Now, it feels like we are visiting the U.S. and Haiti is home.”

This feels like progress.

Proper Lip Movement when Negotiating Property

I just spent two hours helping to negotiate a piece of property for Maxo.  When I say property, I realize that this might give the wrong impression. I am talking about a cement pad, broken on one end with a crumbling wall in the middle. It is a space smaller than many U.S. kitchens.  It will house Maxo, Natasha and their two little girls. Well, it will when he can find the money and materials to build on the cement pad.  He is so excited, he can hardly stand it.  It will be the first thing they have ever rightfully owned.  Well, other than very used clothing and a few personal items. 

Anyway, Maxo found this property, and it is the last in a long line of possible residences. Some have been as far away as an hour. This one is within walking distance of our house, and though to me, it is just shy of a depressing hovel, it is what is available to them at this point.  Its a step up from a tent, and as I said, they are very, very happy. 

We have been trying to help Natasha and Maxo close this deal, but as with everything in Haiti, there must be negotiation, hand gesturing, shoulder shrugs, walking away, a moment where it all seems lost and then, that final handshake.  Today, I learned that my friend, Robenson, is a master at this, thankfully, as he came along and helped us navigate the swamp of property ownership details. Have you registered this transaction with the proper authorities? Thought about the exchange rate? Decided how long you have to pay . . . 

Robenson unveiled a new negotiating move, the disdainful lip curl, that I saw him use effectively at a crucial moment in the two hour session. (You sort of poke your lips out while shaking your head in disgust.)  He saved us money, patiently wrote down in Creole all we had agreed to, and had all parties satisfied at the end.  He even told us when to walk away.

So, we are leaving the day after tomorrow to go to the states and I can't wait.  It will be AMAZING to see the boys, family, and hang out with friends.  It will also be wonderful to ride on smooth roads and eat Chic-filet. But I will miss being here and doing crazy things like sitting on concrete block and negotiating property deals in Creole with four men, one of whom pulled the property deed out of his knitted hat. Being a part of someone's new start.   It kind of felt Christmas-y.   

Guest Blogger - AR

Anna's Song

Last Wednesday at my school my Bible teacher Mr. Pruitt talked about Anna in the Bible and how she eagerly anticipated her entire life the fullfillment of God's promise that she should see the Messiah before she died. He talked about how she was from the tribe of Asher. A tribe that was know for their beautiful women. Yet when Anna's husband died she chose not to remarry and instead was married to her God, staying in his temple and letting her beauty fade with no regret. I have never thought much about my name but after hearing Mr. Pruitt's sermon I felt really inspired and thankful for the name given to me. I have written this song about who Anna was and here are the words. They flow together better when sung but the meaning is just as powerful to me when read.

The Beauty of Anna                                                                                                                                                

In your youth your beauty bloomed, it would never fully fade...

Being from the tribe of Asher you were known for your fair face

But with no husband by your side and no future to be seen

Your reminded that as the time flies this pretty face wont keep

Chorus:

But you are Anna, Beautiful Anna x3

-------

You feel desperation, shame, and fear as your hope begins to wane

But your reminded of the one above who wants to bear your pain

So with a kiss of hope your Father gives a promise that He'll keep

The precious Lamb of God Messiah, before your death you'll meet.

Chorus:

And you become...

Anna, hopeful Anna. Anna, patient Anna. Anna, waiting Anna.

-------

All this time has come and gone and the years have left their mark

But your faith is strong, and your love is bold, and hope lives in your heart

The flower of your beauty has long begun to wilt

But you are married to your God above and with delight he is filled looking on...

Chorus:

Anna, Beautiful Anna. x3

-------

Then one day a couple come cradling their child

You know that it 's whom you have been waiting for all the while

With tears of jubilation streaming from your eyes

The fulfillment of this moment pierces you deep inside

And you become...

Chorus:

Anna blessed Anna. Anna, grateful Anna. Anna, victorious Anna.

-------

She is beauty, she is faithfulness, she is her lovers bride.

She will never be alone again; In God's house she will reside

Though her face no longer holds the bright glowing of her youth

A beauty deep inside her soul forever will shine through

Chorus:

She is Anna, holy Anna. Anna, simply Anna. Anna, sweetly redeemed Anna.

Ebeneezer

We have three days off, a long weekend.  This is the first weekend I have not had piles of papers to grade, articles to write or burdensome plans to design.  I am at a complete loss. I think I need a long weekend to figure out what to do with a long weekend.

Today, we went here.

And last night we ate the most amazing meal I've had since coming to Haiti. I have mercenary tendancies and would like to be friends with our hosts so that they will cook that entire array of authentic Indian food and invite us back.  Pitiful.

We also learned that one of our dearest and oldest family friends died. Ebeneezer was in his 80s. He had become deaf and blind and most recently suffered two heart attacks and an amputation.  All of these things, though, were very immaterial when considering the force of Ebeneezer's personality. 

As a young man, Ebeneezer went to an open air revival in Madras with his gang of upper caste Hindu friends.  Along with the other boys, Ebeneezer carried rocks to throw at the visiting evangelist. As he tells it, his hands lost their grip on the rocks and they fell to the ground as he listened to the powerful message of the gospel.  When Ebeneezer went forward and received Christ as his savior, his fate was sealed as far as his family was concerned.  They had a formal funeral for him, and he was officially an outcast. 

When we met him, Will was a baby and we were neighbors.  Lahta, Ebeneezer's wife, kept Will a couple of times a week while I taught ESL at Mercer.  When I came to pick Will up, he was either sprawled across Lahta's accomodating bosom or sitting like a king on their table as she chopped vegetables for some amazing curry dish who's smell permeated the house.

During that time, we walked with the Ebeneezers through some rebellious years with their teen-agers, health problems, and financial woes.  They would be honest about their trials and then comfort us as we worried about them, "The Lord will never fail us or forsake us!  Trust in Jesus, Tina!" 

We shared significant moments. Will's first steps were taken in the Ebeneezer's house. I tried to make Will take his naps without crying by leaving him alone in the crib. Lahta would stand outside of his window and comfort him, "Willie, its ok, I'm here."  We spent many enjoyable evenings talking about God, laughing about the kids, and just enjoying each other.  I learned about saris and I still have the 5 page "recipe" of how to make Lahta's curry that includes such lines as, " Take a tiny pinch of coriander the size of my little finger." I love the story about how Lahta, a short stout little Indian woman with broken English and little knowledge of things like the PTA and how to get a library card, heard that some boy was bullying her daughters on the way home from school.  She stood at the end of their road with a baseball bat the next day and took care of business.  :)

We helped them with cars and navigating the paperwork of doctor's bills while my Dad worked with a lawyer to help them become legal residents of the U.S., a little detail they hadn't bothered with until then.  I took Ebeneezer to appts. and he imperiously told me where to turn about 30 seconds too late. "Tina, WHY don't you TURN when I tell you???"

Ebeneezer never failed to lead us back to Christ, the ground of our confidence.  Sometimes he was grumpy and demanding, but he would always tease and joke and make us all love him again.  When our family decided to go overseas as missionaries, no one was more excited and proud than Ebeneezer.  "Yes!  You must go and serve the Lord!"  Struggling with one of his health problems, we didn't think we'd get to say goodbye when we left for Belgium and language study.  Ebeneezer and his youngest daughter Rachel walked the long halls of the Atlanta airport out to the international flights gate and handed us his tithe. I think it was less than $50.00.

Luke and Will heard Ebeneezer was in the hospital at Emory and likely not to live long, so they went to see him.  He called Luke "bishop,"  and knew they were there.  It means a lot to me that someone from our family went to see him before he died.

Rachel called this morning.  Ebeneezer left us at 4am holding his daughter, Ruth's hand.  John's first response was to say, "I have never been more sure that someone is in heaven."

AR cried some tonight about Ebeneezer.  Writing about him makes me feel the loss as well.  But I truly am grateful that I knew him. I sure loved that old man.