Have we been in Haiti for two weeks already? One minute it feels like we just stepped off the plane and the next minute it feels like we've lived here for a long time!
The kids' new best friend, Cody, went back to the states this week and the team members from Kentucky and Colorado left Saturday, so it's only our family staying in the volunteer quarters for two weeks until another team arrives. While they were here, the kids and Barrett were able to go with them up the mountain to visit an orphanage their church sponsors. It's amazing how your list of basic needs changes when you're faced with very few options.
Would you feel blessed to receive a "safe" place to sleep, a basic meal, water and someone who shares the love of Jesus with you. These children do.. but should we feel like, "at least they have that?" It's difficult to imagine this way of life and even more difficult to try and describe this kind of poverty. It's real. You can't take a picture of it, video tape it, bottle the smell of it or tell someone about it and make it as real as it is without living it. Try as I may, even being right here, I can still only imagine the hardships these people face. I can see it, smell it, and even hear it in the streets.
What do I know about trying to find food from friends or strangers to feed myself and children on a daily basis, looking for someone to give my children to so they don't starve, going to a well with old plastic jugs from the side of the road just to get water for cooking, bathing, washing and drinking. (if there is a well nearby, I'd be lucky) When people say they need wells here for the Haitians, it's real. If you go by a well without anyone pumping water, it must be broken. If I could sit by a well one day, I'd ask everyone who came, how far they had to travel to get there. What did they do for water before this well? What did they eat that day? How do they survive? I watched a very small, elderly man make trips for an hour and a half one day with two full five gallon buckets of water. He could barely walk with them but he would pump them full and then as carefully and quickly as he could, he would carry them off somewhere and then come back and refill them. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. The sweat pouring off of him and his small frame shaking, he still smiled and said "bonjou" every time he passed. It was real.
It's difficult to take pictures of people we see or places we go, even telling you about sad events, because there's just a sense of privacy you feel they deserve. How can we share what we see here and make it real for you? I can tell you it's real, but do you really understand the desperation and need? We see people of all ages malnourished and desperate for basic needs...that's real. Driving along the highway where all could see, we saw a family crouched down behind a small pile of stones. They were pouring water on themselves from jugs, bathing in water they must have gotten from the dirty inland stream. There was no privacy...it was real.
We went to church on Sunday. The service started just after 7:30. Many had already been there for Sunday School and stayed for service. The service last three and a half hours long. The church was packed, no seats remained. Everyone was dressed in their best. It was a gazillion degrees with a very occasional wisp of air flowing past. People prayed on their knees and raised their hands in worship. They loved Jesus and you could feel God's presence amongst us. We were blessed...and it too, was real.
To those of you who have prayed for us, financially supported us and encouraged us, we are so thankful for you. You are a part of this ministry here and we keep you all in our prayers and in thought as we share and receive the love of Jesus.
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