i can't believe it. this is my last day in st. marc. 4 months has flown by in a mix of bittersweet emotion, stretching and growth. ask me for a summary statement, and i'd likely be speechless.yesterday, i spent my last weekend in haiti at the beach in montrouis, perhaps the most serene place i've ever experienced. i've described it in posts past, but every time i find myself beneath the shade of a coconut palm, basking in the unforgiving haitian sun, or floating in the coolness of the caribbean, with its crackling coral audible beneath the water's surface, i am just amazed by His creative goodness and attention to detail.
i stood in the middle of sea, gawking aloud to myself over the beauty surrounding me. our God is infinitely creative. the aquamarine of the ocean, the jewel-tones of the flora and fauna. the passing clouds-- a metaphor of my life here in Haiti-- as they change shape and purpose and merge with others and become one. i declared God's goodness to man, our unworthiness of such a gift. and i stood there, praising God for the works that He has only begun to start in my life. that as i stood there in the caribbean, that my life would be changed forever, and i would continue to stand for Christ, no matter the cost. i declared His mercy and grace over our lives as we continually fall to sin and the way of the word, and i prayed for the endurance and strength to move beyond that. and even with my uncertainty of the next step, i know that home is where the heart is. and my heart is with God. and God is everywhere. i know that as i stood there in that heavenly paradise, that God stood with me. i let myself fall backwards into the sea, baptizing myself and rising as a proclamation to his faithfulness and my obedience.
as i come to the culmination of such a life-changing experience-- daunting at times, exhilarating at others-- i find myself reminiscing, and already longing for the relationships and memories i've made here. they have left footprints on my heart, infinitely more permanent than the ones we've left on the shores of Montrouis. i ask that God will continue to break my heart for this nation and these people. that He would continue to place them on my heart to pray for them and support them spiritually. that i would not only stay in contact from afar, but that He would bring me back to visit and share in the progress made in their lives and in this nation.
the last service at church was a hard one to have. i'm going to miss the contagious passion in Ben's worship. the excitement and God-centeredness as Philipson leads worship in creole. just taking a look around the arena, i've realized how normal, yet how abnormal, this life is. standing under what practically resembles a poll barn, with the rains dumping in heaps on the metal roof, standing with people from all over the world, worshipping in languages we may not understand, with the sun setting over the caribbean to our rear. as i asked the Lord if i should really leave all of this behind, i felt like He told me i am ready. i am equipped. such formidable words, that although reassuring, don't leave my heart any less heavy for this nation.
***
after service, bryan, valerie and i went down to "mama's" for some chicken and plantains. only in haiti could i sit in front of someone's meager house, with a few polls posting up a shanty roof over the doorway, as she fried chicken wings and plantain bananas on a charcoal cooking stove in her entryway. 100 gourdes for 8 wings and 5 plantains. Philipson met us down there, and we walked back to the base and all had our street-food dinner together. we talked for a while, with Michelot and Faince, whom was shocked to find out that i spoke french after all this time. he thought i was just saying bonswa and bonju to make passing conversation, while i secretly hoped it would invite more conversation than it had. lesson learned. (sidenote: whenever i speak french, and someone is shocked, the followup question is usually "tu es canadien?" which i humbly reply "non, je suis americanne, mais j'ai etudiee la a l'ecole pour trois ans." each time i am reminded that i am disappointed that A) i don't know as much french as i wished to have garnered by now, and B) my home-country really lags in the whole learning a second language thing.)
just spending the night in conversation made me realize how much i will truly miss the friends and relationships i've made here. the spiritual wisdom and guidance and support i receive from each of them is paramount to the growth i've been able to experience. my heart has been engraved by this nation. it has been transformed in this nation by the Lord. it has been made whole.
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