funday sunday = no fun monday

oh you know, the usual sunday.

beach. sun. friends.

hot shower, a/c, a professional massage and lavender-scented skin.

just another day in Haiti. thankful to be blessed enough to treat myself to the above at Mulin Sur Mer, one of the beach resorts here (side-note: you have to pay to go to any of the beaches here. This one is well-kept, trash-free, and provides chairs, chaises and mats, not to mention has amenities such as restrooms, bar/restau, and pool).

blessed.

ps. one month from today! :)

august 14. zumba instructor training. in nashville. done and done. who's with me?

i've applied to over 30 positions in the greater nashville area... be praying for favor with me!

also, pray for favor for this next weekend: anne-ruth, amalia and i are trying to plan a trip to the dominican, more specifically to monte cristi, a town on the northern coast-- about 30 miles from the haitian border. pray for guidance and favor with how to get there... ! i would be going to visit jodi, a fabulous woman whom i've met through a friend, who has been teaching this semester in the DR! we have yet to connect and we've been trying to get across to each other's sides of the island for some time now, and this will be her last weekend in the DR! i'm so excited at the possibility of going, but doing anything in Haiti (i've learned) takes lots of time and patience. and usually a few extra days. so pray with us that it falls together! :)

also, in random news, it happened today. you know, that moment when you realize you have totally said something in another language, but you don't even realize that it was in another language. when it came so natural, you didn't even have to consider it. pas neccessaire. that simple, small phrase (one i've never even used) totally escaped my lips today at deli-mart to the man bagging my groceries. i was silently elated once i realized what had happened. little victories :)

il est minuit, et je me vais revieller a six heure exactement pour cuisiner pour tout le monde ici!

bonne nuit!

dreaming in faith

so in reading my book, what happens when women walk in faith by lysa terkeurst, she challenges women to leave their past and old identity, to walk in obedience with the Lord, towards the realization of their God-given dreams. and i'm feeling challenged reading this (which is what books should do). i've read it (well, most of it) before, and i feel as if much of where i am at shows semblance to the first 4 of 5 stages (we'll get into all of that at a later, more profound date). but my big hang-up is what is my dream? i feel like my goals, my purpose, my dream changes as often as my tummy issues here in haiti.

my ultimate dream is becoming a wife and mother, and raising a Godly family; with a gorgeous kitchen for entertaining and being generous with my hospitality. but what other dreams reside in me? what have i heard from God on?

well, for starters, i guess another ultimate purpose (or dream, or whatev you wanna deem it), would be teacher training and resource summer workshops with untrained teachers in developing nations. but i feel like that is still a long way off from realization, which is okay with me. and i definitely feel like my experience in haiti has helped hone in on that vision and give its fleshless structure bones.

other days, my smaller dreams are a little more radical. designing and making clothes and shoes a la anthropologie-style. becoming zumba-certified and teaching zumba fitness classes. writing a devotional a la beth moore style. creating, photographing and publishing a cookbook a la martha stewart. following humanitarian photography a la j. cowart style.

not to mention, actually getting a job teaching, you know, using that $25,000 piece of paper i've got saved as a PDF on my adequate, yet slowly dying macbook.

but, who has time for all that, AND being a wife and mother?! who has a threshold to do ALL of that? infinite finances? the ability to go for weeks without a wink of sleep? the patience and balance to do all of those seemingly different and difficult tasks, at once? or even in one life!?

and where in that is truth and reality, and where is satan's lies and discouragement to keep me from attaining my dreams and giving God the glory?

afterall, anthro is so refined and tres chic. i could never produce their quality and their unique look, on my singer, at home. teach fitness class? i can barely run a mile. not to mention, i've consumed brownies, potatoes, and a coke today. sounds inspiring to me. beth moore?! she's like one step below Jesus, just above the Pope and Billy Graham. and who am i, with what insight and what diligence to write a devo? i can't even finish one i'm reading. a cookbook? i messed up plain pasta and boxed brownies. and lets not even compare me with J. Cowart. that's like seeing a garageband hit as number one on itunes.

does choosing a dream require more attention than choosing a major? i thought that was the hardest thing i would have to do and live with. and who says you have to just choose one?

and now, i'm in Haiti. teaching kindergarten. for free, for the Lord. was this a fulfillment of a dream? absolutely. three of them actually: becoming a missionary. living abroad. being a teacher. but rather than a simple checkmark on a list of things to do (or three, thank-you), its about fulfilling a calling, for this season. For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable (Romans 11:29).

and where in these dreams, callings, whatever have you-- where do i find if they are God-given, or self-seeking? if i give God the glory, does that mean they are okay to pursue? is it foolish to want to sew joyfully for hours? to create a custom cookbook in my own kitchen, covered in flour and sugar ants and is visibly lived in? what if my talents could really be used to bless others? is that when i can chase them down?

what are your dreams? your passions? your callings? i'd love to hear some of them, especially the more obscure ones! :)

for drizzle.

(yes, i did make a poor reference to snoop dogg. get over it.)

since i've finally 'fessed up to myself over my newfound homebodyism, i had such a magnificent morning. i would equate it to one of those rainy early-spring days spent in your favorite jeans and scarf and boots, sipping a latte and people watching at starbucks. that is, if i actually drank coffee or went to starbucks and knew what that was like. but i'm going to assume it holds a similar feeling.

i awoke to yet another overcast sky-- i could get used to this rainy season. the heavens released a slow drizzle that made a comforting pitter-pat on our tin roofs and didn't cause one of those flash floods or muddy messes that the heavy rains bring. it was even light enough to walk through and not dread, rather feel refreshed as the miniscule drops lightly kissed your face. i was able to sleep in until 8, which was rather nice, and i love how i have come to considered 8 am sleeping in. i guess i've become a real grown up here.

i went down to the school and began blogging and working on uploading photos from the last month and a half. it seriously was just a lovely time.

after cooking myself a delightful lunch of garlic roasted potato wedges, i grabbed a coke, chatted joyfully with my roommates, and have now curled up on the couch with my Bible, a new book, and jake ousley singing me home on itunes. life is good.

i've realized the pointlessness to this blog. in that case, consider it over.

closet introvert

i would normally consider myself an extrovert. ask any of the people i've met over my first few months here in haiti, and they'll tell you about my long nights, never quick to retire to bed out of fear of missing out on something. but this past week, myself would beg to differ ... i mean, i that was okay for me to argue with me.

yesterday, we took a staff beach trip to Mulin, a much smaller and more private resort than the internationally-acclaimed club indigo. leaving the base around 12:45, we made the thirty-minute trip south in our a/c bus (a nice refuge from the heat). even in the bus i felt just a need to be alone, and took to listening to jon mclaughlin on my ipod for the duration. it wasn't a bad need to be alone, it was a content time spent by myself.

i set up my lawn chair beneath the overcast, and quite-chilly-for-haiti, sky. beyond the crashing waves, beyond the roped swimming area, was the island-- la gonave. and further still, yet astonishingly visible, the southern arm of haiti was a faint silhouette in the distance. i spent a majority of my time finishing bergdorf blondes on audio-book (i.e. the book i started on tape in january. re: my first blog, not haiti). for as depressing as it began, it actually wound up being a delightful story; one of those you-know-you-are-nothing-like-the-characters-but-you-secretly-envy-their-crazy-high-maintenance-park-ave.-princess-lifestyle types. in a slightly more moral and less needy way.

i dozed off for a good portion of the book and had to rewind through it, but it didn't matter. i had all the time in the world and nothing to do with it. its nice, but often unfamiliar to feel that way. i watched as the waves rushed up the shoreline, losing momentum, but reaching to see just how far it could get before being drawn back to ocean, overcome by another way hoping to outrun its predecessor, too.

after lounging contently for 4 hours (which i would typically be stir crazy after so long!), i decided to walk around and take some photos of the beauty that is the haitian coastline. i sat on the jetty and watched the waves wash over the rocks at the point, crashing and splashing and then falling carelessly back to the sea.

i kept my silence all afternoon, the way a nun in a convent would. it was more of a cognizant choice; a way of life, rather than an expectation. i guess it could be comparable to people watching at the airport. there are tons of people around, none of which you talk to, but you could always. (airport convo's tend to be the best anyway!) {tangent: i love sitting in airports, alone, reflecting. i think it is often the most thought-provoking reflection time for me.} i began to realize how my personality pendulum was in full swing to introvert, in the most content way. i can't stress how much joy i have even found in acceptance of this week, in true bi-polar fashion, i actually enjoy silence. odd, i know. especially for one as wordy as i "tend" to be.

sitting there on the jetty, i pondered life's great metaphors. the waters were roped off to protect beach-go'ers from the currents and jagged coral shore. but how would you ever see the coral if you never ventured past the ropes? the white rocks beneath my feet were of all different sizes, each smoothed by the tousle of the sea. i wondered, were they all the same size once? but the weathering of the sea overtime had made some small. these small ones hurt the most as i walked across the jetty. the larger ones, still sea-smoothed, too, offered more support and less poking on the feet. i want to be a big stone, i thought. one that people can stand on for support; one that people can walk across without feeling like broken glass. but does that come from less time out in the sea? where is the sea, anyway? do my metaphors even make sense?

i made my way back to shore just in time for dinner. i didn't talk much at dinner, but not because i didn't want to. i was so very content sitting there, taking in the conversation and details of the moment. i slipped away a few times to photograph the magnificent sunset and the shoreline silhouettes left behind in its path.

i am constantly awestruck by the details God paints into the sky-- stars, the moon, rainbows, and especially sunset. its like a pack of mnm's have been left in the heat for too long, and all the colors melt together in this magnificent display of unintentional, yet intentioned beauty. with each setting sun, i can not fathom one more beautiful, one more delicately cast on the horizon by God, than the one i am witnessing in that moment. but each time, the Lord continues to show off, and captivates me into oblivion with His creative hand.

i sat at the table and watched as the sea, island, and sky became indistinguishable as they melded together into a beautiful, black abyss. i've never been struck by such beauty in darkness. i watched the families, the laughter, the genuine joy take place around me. and i sat there, satisfied. not with dinner (especially after the fiasco that was my "club sandwich"). not with company, even though they were magnificent too. not even with myself. i sat, just satisfied in the beauty of life that surrounds me, that is within me.

***

circles

"what would i do if you never came here?"

but i was always coming here. i thought about one of my favorite Sufi poems, which says that God long ago drew a circle in the and exactly around the spot where you are standing right now. i was never not coming here. this was never not going to happen.

--eat pray love, elizabeth gilbert

as i read this from the shores of the beach below the fort, i felt as if one of the crashing waves consumed me; both violent and refreshing as it overcame me and i swallowed the salt of those words.

God knew i would be right there, in that moment, under that sun. he numbered the grains of sand beneath my pink sarong, and drew a circle around me, as i basked in that very spot. i was never not coming here. all of this was never not going to happen.

as i half-absorbed, half-relished in that thought, i was reminded of how enormous God is. yet, in the same ambivalent breath, how attuned to the minute details that compose our lives. for whatever reason, whatever purpose, God brought me to Haiti, to live for four months, in a community of His followers. as people are fully involved in earthquake relief, prison and brothel ministry (10 of the prostitutes left the brothel today to return home! PRAISE GOD!), or in discipling the many tent communities in the area, i often feel as if what i am doing is not having such a significant impact on the community, both presently or eternally.

but the Lord of lords, our living God, disagrees. i came, as an act of obedience. i came to sacrifice, to serve, to glorify Him. and out of His strength and joy, i am fulfilling His call on my life. and even if another soul is not touched by my work, He has greatly stirred mine. and that my friends, is far beyond significant. that is magnificent.

look at the ground around you. find your circle. God knew it, he drew it.

the swing

the magnificent sky beneath which i swing

***

to and fro;

push,

pull.

point.

flex.

extend;

pull in.

my legs reach higher, higher still

pointing towards the heavens.

with each heave-- ho

i work and work and work to no avail.

my legs ache--

if i could only work a little bit harder

i'd get there. i'd get there alright.

but i don't. i've forgotten how to swing.

suddenly, care(ful)less(ly)

i lean back

my torso like an eagle

diving to the ground,

swooping in to pick its prey

and airborne again, in an instant.

i soar with ease--

once i stop

work, work, working.

i grip tightly as i fly forward.

my pointed pieds lead,

heaven-bound.

living fruitfully, fretlessly

the air today has been noticeably cooler than day past; meaning the high only reached a tender 95 instead of a smoldering 99+. this break in heat also so graciously allowed my temperature-sensitive body to sleep in past 6 a.m., opting for an almost-nine wake up call.

after peeling the sweat-soaked sheets, quite literally, from my backside, i decided out of boredom to make breakfast: two slices of whole-wheat french toast, with a coconut-annais syrup (props to the roommate for that sugary-sweet concoction!).

realizing there was nothing scheduled for the day (which didn't take much thinking to arrive at that avenue), i decided to lay out on the couch and continue reading the memoir i started yesterday, eat pray love by elizabeth gilbert. i managed to read a good portion yesterday afternoon between lunch/nap/dinner; and prior to going to bed. reading has been a nice escape to solitary confinement, which is exceptionally nice in a place where privacy is almost forbade.

i read through most of the morning, stopping only to give alain or patrick cold water as they worked (yet again) on the broken water pump in between the apartments and to cook myself a late lunch of macaroni noodles with fresh garlic, red pepper flakes, and butter, washing it down with my last mountain dew over ice, both prized commodities here in St. Marc. i was also gifted with a resee's peanut butter cup, another prize here, and found out

that deli mart has a whole box for sale (note to self: go to deli mart tomorrow. bring cash. lots of it.)

i read my way into the late afternoon, too. okay, i partially lied. i dosed off a little bit on the couch as the doors allowed a (dare i say) cooler breeze drifted between our perma-opened doors. my arms and legs are still doing this crazy, restless thing where they either tingle, ache, flinch, twitch, or just generally feel like someone cranked the voltage and is sending electric shocks throughout my nervous system. its a dull, annoying pain, and generally only frustrating when my mind is the cranky old man upstairs, ready for bed, and my limbs are like the college frat boys the moved in to the central apartment keeping everyone up at all hours of the night with their united chanting and drone of bad karaoke to 80s songs that were written long before they were born.

well after i awoke with one leg hanging off the couch, foot on the ground, and the other sprawled across the arm of the couch, i stood up to go use the restroom before getting ready for the market. or, i told myself rather that i was going to stand up. but without hesitation, my body rejected the idea and i collapsed, barely grabbing the chair before i would've hit the ground. that's odd, i thought, and tried again. nope. my right leg put me to my knees faster than the fear of the Lord. the odd thing was, my leg didn’t feel asleep. i could wiggle my toes without pain. i shook my leg out for a bit, and i was able to walk like normal, but it was still bizarre enough to make note of.

***

for lunch, i wanted nothing more than home-fried potatoes with onions. but thats the thing with cravings here: you have them, and it takes days, even WEEKS, to get the ingredients, track down the OJ (still waiting on that one), and fire up the propane (assuming you have it) before you can placate your pallet. it at least put enough of a drive in me to recruit anne, jenna and sarah to head to the market mid-afternoon, following the heat of the day.

the overcast skies gave way to a beautiful land-breeze, complimented by the additional wind on my face from the moto drive. i find myself squinting even sans soleil and realize i've left my sunglasses at home. so, i close my eyes; this time not out of fear, but solely from the dust. in fact, i find my body limber and relaxed as its pressed between the driver and anne on the back. its an odd sensation of relaxation that is only typical of two things: courage of the liquid kind, that allows for a sense of looseness in the inebriated; or a natural comfort that usually comes from birth, or a desensitization of the fear from frequent participation in it. clearly, the latter.

we arrive at SD, where my only purchases are two more cans of precious mountain dew, and a container of salt. the four of us almost in complete silence as unknowingly fall into a single-file line as we walk the busy street toward the market. as we pass natives eager to use whatever english they may know, i catch a few "i love you, honey"'s and blown kisses. i'm wondering if my stoic face shows that i don't understand there cat-calls, or that i simply don't care. i keep walking. and i wonder, does the look on my face show the comfort i also felt on the moto? or does it show that i am merely a foreigner in this place, a blanc, still uncertain about each step and easily taken advantage of at the market?

either way, because i'm white, i am taken advantage of at the market, but i figured 50 gourdes for 10 decent-sized, freshly dug up potatoes was fair-- even though the merchants were all-too-eager to make the transaction, meaning i could have gotten them for less. c'est la vie.

we crossed national 1 (the busy highway that i would rather not walk on, ever), and i greet the vender lady on the corner, as i do every week, hoping that she will remember me and i can establish a good merchant relationship with her for the duration of my time. in search of bananas, we press in deeper in the market than we

usually do, and eventually give way to asking a vender where we could find them. with the exchange of a few words in creole, another woman and a small boy, around 7 or 8, are leading us through the tight, busy market paths. i've heard that densely-populated india has some of the most congested marketplaces in the world; at this rate, i'm okay not seeing for myself. dead-ending like a maze, we play this game of cat and mouse as anne disappears before me, and the little boy lingers behind to make sure i've caught up. having to turn sideways at parts just to pass men with wheelbarrows and women toting their goods atop their heads, as usual. another dead-end, and we turn around, opting this time to go left instead of right ... right into a tight-squeeze of a meat market, where all the insides of a cow, or a pig-- i couldn't really tell at this point-- were strung about in a large metal bowl, random organs and intestines overflowing the sides. holding my breath through much of the market, i really couldn't even tell you if and when i was going to vom, nor could i tell you where this dear woman was leading us! we continued to follow and suddenly the congested market gave way to a slightly less-busy street, still void of bananas. our search had lead us far from any familiar territory, so we stuck with it, and alas-- bananas! in a country with so many dang banana trees, you don't think you'd have to trek so far to find them!

with the help of the determined woman, we managed to get a gourdes deal (i crack myself up with that one every time!) and pay just 75 gourdes for her last two, plump, ripe bunches of bananas (about $2USD). and as a bonus: 3 avocados for 25 gourdes. i'll take it. but now, where were we? we tried to go down a nicely paved street, but it was a dead-end. noticing a bunch of of taxis gathered at a cross street by what appeared to be a primary school and a kindergarten, we decided that might be the best route to get home. before we knew it, we got our bearings back as we once again crossed national 1 and headed back for the mission.

***

the evening was spent reading, blogging, and chatting with some of our neighbors (stacia, keturah) as they dropped by. later on, we made our maiden voyage to deli with anne-ruth, the mission's newest driver! cheering her on as if she had finally procured her driver's permit for the first time (although she's had it for 17 years now), i felt like i was back in high school, eager to drive with my friends as their parents handed over the keys to their mini-vans and we were finally free to do what we want, on our own. just the girls!

***

in the book i've been reading, the author writes a chapter about being in Italy, talking to a hardworking man about vacations. the difference in America is that we work hard, take vacation, and don't know how to turn off our productivity and just be. the Italians can work hard, take a mid-day siesta without problem, and take holiday without a second thought on what is going on back at their place of employment.

yesterday, i began to understand how to just be. to not be concerned with productivity, but to sit and read and just float through the day in relaxation. this is definitely a must-do; even in ecclesiastes (which i've deemed the depression ward of the bible!), solomon warns that there is no pleasure in this world; prompting many times to just "eat, drink, be merry and enjoy your work under the sun." sounds like a plan.

thoughts on faith

"there's a reason we refer to "leaps of faith" -- because the decision to consent to any notion of divinity is a mighty jump from the rational over to the unknowable, and I don't care how diligently scholars of every religion will try to sit you down with their stacks of books and prove to you through scripture that their faith is indeed rational; it isn't. If faith were rational, it wouldn't be-- by definition-- faith. Faith is belief in what you cannot see or prove or touch. Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark. If we truly knew all the answers in advance as to the meaning of life and the nature of God and the destiny of our souls, our belief would not be a leap of faith and it would not be a courageous act of humanity; it would just be . . . a prudent insurance policy.

"i'm not interested in the insurance industry. i'm tired of being a skeptic, i'm irritated by spiritual prudence and i feel bored and parched by empirical debate. i don't want to hear it anymore. i couldn't care less about evidence and proof and assurances. i just want God. i want God inside me. I want God to play in my bloodstream the way sunlight amuses itself on water." --elizabeth gilbert, eat pray love

i agree, and couldn't have said it better myself. what do you think? she does not ascribe to the christian faith, but i believe that there is wisdom to be found in all things, and that in God's pursuit of captivating our hearts, he can speak to those that aren't by definition, Christian. so then, is it wrong for me to agree because she is not a christian?

when it boils down to it, in our seeking after the Lord, we long for an intimate experience of Him to radiate from within our souls and throughout our living being. that is why we soak in the presence of the Holy Spirit, to be radically changed, renewed, revived by His presence. scholars, theologians, and historians aside; i believe in the Bible through faith. my proof may or may not be manifested by historical evidence. my proof is in the way that God has had His hand on my life since a young age; in the way i've grown up even without guidance in faith, but having it realized in my life by His divine intervention. my proof is in that majestic moment where a life goes from fetus to infant with that first gasp of air. my proof is in answered prayer, and healing, and transformation, and breakthrough; right before my very eyes.

but this must be coupled with the truth found in His word. what we have to learn from Christ's living example, not just our own experience of "who" God is. the two must sing harmoniously, echoing each other in perfect key. they must dance in unison, neither one taking the sole lead; rather their steps planned and executed in perfect timing. i learned a phrase coined by a progressive mennonite man last week:

if you live only by the word, you'll dry up.

if you live only by the spirit, you'll blow up.

if you live by both, you'll grow up.

***

"the search for God is a reversal of the normal, mundane worldly order. in the search for God, you revert from what attracts you and swim toward that which is difficult. you abandon your comforting and familiar habits with the hope (the mere hope!) that something greater will be offered you in return from what you've given up. "

i can totally relate. but it's not just a hope, its an assurance we have through faith. amen.

cedez le passage

in france, there is a wonderful, familiar traffic sign that reads, "cedez le passage," meaning give way, or yield passage. this morning at prayer, i was reminded of this quaint phrase; one that i find nearly etched into memory as London's Mind the Gap. for some reason, this stuck out to me as a cry to the Lord; utilizing une autre langue to speak more clearly to the Lord than i can in my native tongue.

everyday, we must make a conscious effort to cedez le passage to God. i find it more than just yielding, merely just putting our own thoughts or plans on hold. but truly giving way to the Lord, allowing Him to do His works. even if it is a moment-by-moment, daily cry to the Lord, it is imperative to lay down our flesh and say "God have Your way." with time, it may become easier as good habits form and the enemies attacks are broken off; or it may become more difficult as the enemy wears and tears us down, tricking us into giving way to our flesh and our desires. either way, we need to be cognizant of the living God we serve, and how He so deeply desires to take care of us and our needs.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11, NIV)

through both the word and my own experience, i've come to realize that God knows much better than I. as our maker, he is the one that programmed us, knows our faults, knows our kinks, and knows what is ultimately best for us. who are we to question his plans, or even suggest that He should yield to ours?

"What sorrow awaits those who argue with their creator. Does a clay pot argue with its maker? Does the clay dispute with the one who shapes it, saying, 'Stop, you're doing it wrong!' Does the pot exclaim, 'How clumsy can you be?' How terrible it would be if a newborn baby said to its father, 'Why was I born?' or if it said to its mother, 'Why did you make me this way?' This is what the Lord says-- the Holy One of Israel and your Creator: 'Do you question what I do for my children? Do you give me orders about the work of my hands? I am the one who made the earth and created people to live on it. With my hands I stretched out the heavens. All the stars are at my command. I will raise up Cyrus to fulfill my righteous purpose, and I will guide his actions." (Isaiah 45:9-13, NLT).

i encourage you: cedez le passage, au'jourd hui.

rue de la flamboise

yesterday morning, anne-ruth and i road up to goyavier (gwa-vee-ay) avec wayne to pick up a team that had spent 4/3 there. i've heard rumors of the beauty, and the chill, of this quaint mountain town, so i was eager to get out of my st. marc bubble and explore une autre petite piece d'ayiti.

and boy, am i thankful that we did.

it was about a 45-60 minute drive down a make-shift road lined with these magnificent red-flower pod trees, known as a flamboyant, a spicy-red tropical relative to the jacaranda. fortunately the scenery was nicer than the road, which got more narrow and rough the higher we climbed. but most magnificent of all: the view. as we gained altitude, it was like God was slowly raising the curtain on a divine set, one that we could never create with even the most skilled stagehands present. the trees and brush gave way to a fantastic view over the cliffs and mountainside, of the lush green valleys coming into view in the east; the cerulean-turquoise of the caribbean as it met with the shores of st. marc; the visibly barren dessert to the north, marking the 5me arrondisment. once the road plateaued for more then 10 yards, we stopped and took a moment to breathe in the view, and to thank God for creating it for us to enjoy. as we passed lookout point after lookout, i felt as if the Lord spoke to my heart, reminding me that we are never out of the infinite reach of His hand.

as we got back in the car to continue the drive, my heart was pounding, as if God Himself were breathing life into me. and He was. i closed my eyes as they involuntarily filled with tears of contentment, and let the cool breeze blow in the window and kiss my forehead and cheeks. i felt so at peace in this new world. i feel as if when my eyes are opened to new images, when a place goes from foreign to explored before my very eyes, that part of my soul is opened up. something within me comes to life, a life i don't want to stifle; one i can't get enough of. it's as if the nouveaux visual stimulation placates a hunger left on my palate from consuming only manna. seeing this side of haiti left me feeling refreshed, even physically by the cool; hopeful.

as we crested the first mountain, we began ascending and descending through small, remote villages amidst the banana trees and immature corn fields. every now-and-then, we would pass a group of people, toting their goods to market atop their heads. wayne would slow down and great them in creole:

"bonju bonju! èske w te wè yon ti gwoup moun blan yo ki te la depi Samdi?" i heard him say. i actually understood that he was asking them if they have seen the group of blancs that have been in the town since Saturday. a few of the groups had not seen them, and a few others pointed us in the right direction. i thought how comical: we've come this far up a mountain, and we are relying on people we see on the streets to point us to where our group is, based on the color of their skin! only in Haiti.

as the brown dirt slowly changed to red clay, which continued to deepen in color and in moisture, the vegetation became more lush and green. the overcast skies provided a cool canopy to the life beneath. the fog lingering between the valleys and the mountain tops as the clouds rolled in reminded me of the mountains in carolina, and made me eager to get back there this summer.

by the time we made it to the quaint property where we were going to pick up the team, we had 3 kids in the back of the nissan. and boy, did it make their day. blancs in these parts are probably pretty rare, and we attracted quite the following once we parked.

i felt as if i were back in ethiopia; the rolling hills, the mud homes, the darker skin. calloused feet and hopeful eyes. torn, ill-fitting clothing. the warmest smiles you'll ever see.

that is one thing i love about traveling: smiling is universal. whether a meek child, or a weathered working man; draw your lips upward, and it is always returned. there is no language barrier to smiling. the same for waving. whomever decided to show the underside of your hand as a greeting? why does it make us feel more welcome? why does it make us feel like we have acknowledged others; a simple gesture when thought about, reminds you how silly it is, but how boldly it speaks when words won't suffice.

the man whom hosted the team (i wish i had thought to ask his name!) invited wayne, anne-ruth and i in for coffee; not just any coffee, but coffee he had homegrown, roasted and brewed (another similarity to life in ethiopia!). reluctant at first because i simply don't drink that thick liquid, i accepted the invitation remembering it is polite to never turn down an offer of gratitude, especially in a third-world (or in our case, forth world) country. purely expecting to have to suck it down without tasting, i was wonderfully surprised when the cafe noir was pre-sweetened and actually had a pretty rich and sugary taste. okay, so it may have been without cream, and slightly luke-warm, but it wasn't half bad. even for coffee!

we stood and talked for a little bit, meaning i listened, intent on understand at least a portion of the french-creole blend the others were able to speak. i feel like i am earnestly trying to understand more, but without seeing written language, i will never fully grasp it.

we loaded up the team into the back of the nissan extended cab and headed back down the mountain chain, leaving the serenity and chill in our dust. as we hugged the mountainside intimately, careful even not to lose traction lest we perish over the cliffs, i was reminded of how whether in the mountains, valleys, deserts or coast, we are never out of the infinite reach of His hand. nothing, no nothing, could separate us from our Creator. we passed the lone flamboyant, as its roots held on tightly to the dry edge, as the trunk hovered over the cliff. its branches extended in a beautiful umbrella, offering shade in a place where the dirt was more like dust, and the heat more like a sauna. i found a comforting symbolism in this image: "Come to me, all who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

oh joyous day! hot summer sun! sweat sticky sweat!

just finished spending an hour handwashing my laundry. i was never meant to be born during a century without amenities such as a washer (line drying isn't all that bad). i actually opted to do mine after dinner, when the sun's not so hot, but i' still find my self dripping in sweat (to be assumed for the duration of my stay).

this morning at intercession, i couldn't shake this spiritual and physical fatigue i was under, and it was physically exhausting just to worship and pray. fortunately, through through tribulation, perseverance is produced, leading to character, and character, hope, and hope the love of God which does not disappoint (Romans 5:1-5). let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross. (Hebrews 12:1-2). its not easy to cast it off, but we most press on towards the goal for the prize of the upward cal in Christ Jesus (Phil. 3:14).

we had a great morning with the kids, mainly doing color recognition, sorting, and fine motor skills by making a haitian flag as a class, finger painting individual flags, and working on handwriting by writing St. Marc, Haiti or I live in St. Marc, Haiti (depending on kinder or pre-k). the kids have gotten so good at their phonics, and i'm really encouraged by the ability of Irving, Nohrry, and even Vardy in particular, who came a few weeks after i started, not knowing a word of english, nor any of the english letter pronunciations. those three in particular are able to decode words quite quickly, and Nohrry and Irving are able to read for meaning!

but the glory moment happened this afternoon after my one-on-one, when leah and i hitched a ride to SD and there i saw her: sitting in the cooler in the back, all in her green glory. mountain dew. i had a come-to-jesus moment and squealed in sheer excitement as i quickly grabbed 4 cans (3 for me, 1 to share!). i would have bought more, but cans of soda at more expensive than their twice-the-size glass bottle counterpart, running 35 gourdes, or about $1USD.

after grabbing a bag of yucca chips, some pringles, 2 cans of diet coke (stock up while its available!), pineapple, white/kidney/and pinto beans, and a candy bar my total ran me $18 USD, which is actually rather expensive. i felt like i was back in college, purchasing the most disdainful dinner available.

but i was quite satisfied :) now on to my mani/pedi with the Swiss FCM girls on their last night on outreach.

life is good. hot, but good.

when your here, you're family

only in Haiti would i start cooking a simple supper at 9:30 AM, simply because i know it’s going to be a disaster.

first obstacle: i try to dry the bread cubes in the oven for the bread pudding. i check them once, and stir them around a bit. check them twice and notice the moisture hasn’t really changed much. actually, the oven feels sort of cool.

we’re out of propane. it’s a weekend, and even if it wasn’t, the chances of getting gas the same-day: it’s like people in st. marc wanting orange juice hell asking for ice water.

so i run across to anne-ruth and amalia’s apartment, but no sign of them. so i run up to base and track down anne-ruth to see if she minds if i use her oven. no problem. so i go get the matches from my place, turn on her gas, strike the match and ...

wooosh! the flame reaches my mid-forearm, and takes my arm hairs with it. the sound of her grumbling oven doesn’t sound right, so we shut it down and joshua offers his oven next door.

finally, three ovens down, and i’ve got the bread pudding cooking an hour later.

can’t imagine what’s going to happen when i try to fry and bake the chicken parm, boil the spaghetti, bake the garlic bread, and cook the green beans....

***

ask and you shall receive.

i had wonderful help from amalia and anne-ruth prepping the meal, and it actually turned out pretty good, which is better than i expected, all things considered.

as we’re in the guys’ apartment cooking, the oil just wouldn’t get hot enough. after about 45 minutes of trying to let the oil heat as we breaded all the chicken breast, anne-ruth suggested we use her stove (which she claimed didn’t have the gas leak; only the oven). once we moved everything back over to her apartment (where i originally started with the prep), it took but just a moment to get the oil hot and amalia and i began churning out the chicken and running it back to the guys to put it in the oven (which apparently never got turned on!).

working on the sauce, i realized the tomato sauce i bought was not nearly enough for 13 hungry mouths, even once i added the diced tomatoes, onions, peppers and garlic. fortunately, i had an extra can of paste on reserve back home.

i got the pasta going as anne-ruth and i worked on the garlic toast, only to come back to find it had absorbed all the water and was overcooked. fortunately, anne came to the rescue and made an entire new batch of pasta. only in haiti could i screw up pasta!

going to check the chicken, the electric goes out. perfect timing, as usual.

and fortunately, the green beans were no trouble at all.

troubles aside, it was a great meal, with great friends here in haiti. everyone enjoyed it, but more importantly, it was so nice to just sit and eat a meal with people you can joke with, laugh with, and those that truly make you feel at home. here, we are each other's family. we are all in this together.

even though many offered, i insisted on doing dishes. there’s nothing like seeing the productive end of a good meal. washing the pots and plates, listening to mat kearney made me feel like i was standing in my kitchen in Nashville; a feeling that left me feeling more at home here than i have in a while, yet more reminiscent of my Nashville friends family.

anne ruth, amalia and i at our family dinner

rest for the weary

although i just showered an hour and a half ago, i find myself already sopping wet with my own perspiration. it feels every bit of the 107 heat index today. the electric is off, the air is still, and i just ate my first can of relief soup here in haiti (you can imagine why we don't do soup very often).

today was a good, yet almost exhausting end to a very tumultuous week. i'm blessed to be feeling a million times better. yesterday attributed to that exponentially.

i woke up yesterday in the most ridiculously, almost giddy mood. between the many voices just beyond my window, and the baby cries from just beyond the bathroom, 8:00 seemed like an appropriate time to get up on our very necessary day off from school (Pan-American Day; who has the answer?).

in my overzealous, glad-to-be-back mood, i decided productivity was the word for the morning! anne was up, too, so i offered to make us breakfast. i made us each an order of croissant french toast (modeled after my fave brunch item at Marche in East Nashville!) and we just talked and enjoyed the morning (which was such a blessing to each of us!). following breakfast, i decided to finally put away my laundry from while i was sick, and clean and sweep my room!

at 9:40, i was treated to a massage by a lovely lady from the Swiss FCM team (Praise JESUS!). it was such a relaxing and healing experience, and left me feeling even more in love with life! because physical touch is my love language, it spoke volumes to my massage-deprived soul!

thursdays are salad days on base now, so i definitely took advantage of the offer of fresh veggies! it was my first time back up on base for meal time in nearly a week, so it was SO bizarre to see SO many people again; i think my eyes had become acclimatized to small pockets of people in and around my apartment. but in my eagerness and excitement about life, i volunteered for after meal clean up!

after lunch, i spent my time journaling and in the word; both were SO good for my soul. (pardon the interruption, but i'm pretty sure i hear a cow. that is not something i think i've ever heard in haiti. interesting. carry on now.)

in congruence with thursdays, there was staff meeting, dinner, and ladies group; busy, but even those couldn't diffuse my stamina!

praise God for healing, and thank Him for who He is. this life is meant to be lived, fully. enjoyed, fully. but most importantly, He is to be worshipped. and i feel as if even on a thursday, my mood reflected my heart towards Him, and vice versa.

mission: recovery

welcome back to vertical, rhiannon. we've missed you.

the past week has been a blur, and i have to keep reminding myself that today, indeed, is not saturday. it is thursday. a thursday off of school for Pan-American Day (fill me in if you know why that is a holiday), but a thursday nonetheless.

i spent this last weekend pretty low-key. friday night after dinner, i came back to the apartment and hung out here for a while or up at the school making weekly phone calls. saturday i woke up in an excellent mood, had breakfast and conversation, went for a morning jog in the near-99 heat, spent some time poolside before lunch, and again after lunch. mid-afternoon, anne-ruth, joshua, and i went out to the market and to SD and Deli Mart to stock our fridges and get some stuff for a pot-luck breakfast on saturday. baked some brownies saturday night to share, and then decided to retire pretty early after feeling a wave of exhaustion from my first-unplanned, low-key weekend.

sometime around midnight or one, i woke up convulsing from feeling cold. one word likely never used in the history of describing Haiti would be cold. my entire body ached, and i barely managed to get out of the tangle of my mosquito net fast enough to put on sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt. it still wasn’t enough. i found my sheet and my blanket and came out to the couch with my pillow to curl up. i was miserable. it wasn’t long until diarrhea was added to my laundry-list of unpleasant symptoms (especially in a house with thin, manufactured walls, and no ceilings).

sometime in the morning, my lovely roommates came to my rescue and prayed with me, made sure i was hydrated and fed me an i.b. profein breakfast as i fell back to sleep for an hour or two. before i knew it, i was sweating and tearing layers off of me. i took, and actually enjoyed, a cold shower; and started to feel a little better. laying back down for a bit i realized how wrong i was.

at 9:30 leah came to borrow some ingredients from the breakfast i was so regretfully missing (if ya’ll know me or have ever been to visit in Nashville, you’ve been a recipient of the breakfast smorgasbord, and i don’t take entertaining and hospitality as a light matter!), i told her my symptoms and she said she would get one of the visiting nurses to check on me.

the details stop there as i completely lose concept of time and/or chronology. somewhere in the course of events, my fever climbed above 103, and wouldn’t come down even with the tylenol. just before what was supposed to be our teacher-parent meeting at school, they woke me and moved me in my stupor to shelley and freeman’s house on base, and into a room with electric (and a wall unit when the generator was on or we actually had power from EDH).

it was a violent pendulum from freezing cold to burning hot; and sweating regardless of my state. the headache i had was super intense, and never dulled even if the fever or other symptoms did. my entire body didn’t just ache, it was in pain. the diarrhea didn’t cease. as the visiting surgeon had been making house calls every few hours, he kept checking in on me, wondering if what we were dealing with was malaria.

one of the nights, walking back from the bathroom, i nearly collapsed as my vision got dark and i felt so faint. shelley came and helped me walk the rest of the way to the bedroom, noticing how my arms were even radiating heat.

on monday, they brought ben and i down to the hospital to be tested for malaria. the whole experience was SO unsettling. it was apparently immunization day, so the small laboratoire was packed with about 50 haitian mothers and their babies. the sight of a malaise blanc sitting on the ground in sheer pain made some of them scoff. but even through my ill-content and their laughter, i tried to pray blessings on each of the lives in that room.

when they called ben and i down, for some reason they couldn’t understand that both of us needed the test done and kept mixing up our prescriptions. right there in front of the crowd, without gloves on their hands, with blood splattered across the open vials on the table, they took our blood (from packaged syringes, rest-assured mom and daddy!) as they made loud, snide comments to each other about us. the whole thing was just so unsettling, and my body was in so much pain under this fever that i didn’t have the heart or strength to deal with it.

fortunately, God has the strength. and fortunately, He never gives us more than we can bear. sunday and monday, i slept a good deal of the time throughout the day and night; waking only when visitors came to check on me, give me meds or gatorade, or pray with me. God really gave me a fair amount of rest in my weakness and pain.

monday night, when i was sleeping however, i just could not be comfortable. i was tossing and turning, quite abnormally; like, feet to the head of the bed, head to the right then to left and then back at the top. it was odd. but one time when i awoke, i couldn’t move. i felt, like, this presence; and then God’s peace. it was as if God was speaking to my heart: “don’t worry. it’s my angels; they’re fighting for you. go back to bed.”

it is such a comforting thought, that our God fights for us. i know i’ve revisited this a few times since my Exodus emphasized entries, but it is still so surreal to me. 1 Peter 5:7 tells us to “give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares about you.” I can never get over how much our God really, truly LOVES us. that NOTHING we have done or could ever do would separate us from His love. a dear friend reminded me of His promises and and scriptures:

as the torch was being passed from Moses to Joshua, Joshua is reminded to “be strong and courageous! do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail nor abandon you.” (Deut. 31; and throughout Joshua). what comfort we find in a God that never leaves or forsakes us. never, ya’ll! we are not once without the Lord. even through the mud and the muck, the vomming or the diarrhea.

in Jeremiah, we are reassured that God’s plans for us don’t include harm (although that is a tactic of the enemy!), but they are to prosper us and to give us hope for the future. God tells us that when we pray, He listens. if we look, wholeheartedly, we will find Him. our God is a living, breathing, actively-involved God. and He’s got good news for us! even when we are weary, perhaps even especially when we’re weary.

“So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold-- though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world.” 1 Peter 1:6-8

i’m still comforted by the peace He spoke to my heart, even in the midst of fever-fest ‘0h-10. but i was also reminded that the physical battle is only half of it. there is a much larger, largely unseen battle waging in the spiritual realm that is as real as anything i’ve felt or experienced during my sickness. and that the the one we need to truly be praying into. just knowing that God’s army of angels is protecting me is wonderful news, but for me to need the protection of angels; that’s a mighty fine storm a-brewin’.

the spiritual climate in haiti is darker and more real than i’ve ever experienced. i’ve seen spiritual warfare stateside, but usually in smaller pockets, and not such a grand-scale attack. the enemy has a tight reign on this country, and he’s none the eager to pass off control to a mighty God that expelled him from heaven.

even our base as a whole: we’ve reached our highest number of volunteers yet, and as our numbers increase, so does our reach and effectiveness. the enemy is trying his best with sickness spreading faster than a kindergarten classroom among healthy 20-somethings and grown adults. anything to cripple our efforts. i’m reminded of even the enemies attack to plant fear in my mind and try to kill me driving down to prayer walk in the park one friday morning. the enemy does not have mercy, nor a heart. he loves to see us weak.

but fortunately, God does too. “for in your weakness, His strength is perfected,” 2 Corinth 12:9. after coming out of the physical drain of the extent of my fever, i laid on my living room floor, with an ice pack over my eyes and what felt like a vice encasing my head, in tears Wednesday morning. so beat and worn from the enemy’s attacks. i was crying out to God, how bad would it be if i just gave up? if i gave into the enemy and just left and let him win? i can’t do this; i can’t be this miserable any longer. and fortunately, He heard my cries and stepped in, fought for me, and rescued me.

as the leader from the Denver team spoke these verses from 2 Corinthians over our staff in the prayer room last week, i quickly scribbled his words, as a reminder of God’s movement in our lives:

so often we think during our tough times and struggles, we think were the furthest from God; but it’s then that God says, ‘okay, you’re done; you’re spent. now i can finally show up.’ when we suck at life, God shows up and He’s the one that gets the glory. Cos we just ruin it all.

those words have really stuck with me; shining light on some of the struggles i had been facing in being here already, but carrying on to anything i may and will face in my remaining weeks here. i am so thankful that our God is a present, loving, healing and saving God.