"Sittin' on a fence post, chewing my bubblegum"

"Sittin' on a fence post, chewing my bubblegum..."  These words from one of my favorite pre-kindergarten songs keep running through my head today.  Yes, I am back at school and have tried to focus on preparing my classroom, heart and mind for 40, 4-year-olds and their families who will start my class next week.  But these lyrics seem to be nagging at me for a different reason.

Many of you have heard about the Tropical Storm, Isaac, that recently made its mark throughout the Caribbean and is headed towards New Orleans.  Thankfully no one I know in Haiti was hurt and everyone's family seems to be okay.  The damage is unfortunate.  Lots of metal roofs were lost, trees blown over and crops destroyed.  People's food source and livelihood, gone.  In addition, there are concerns now about water sanitation, food availability and the return of electricity.

So, here is where I feel like Herman the Worm in what we call the "Yo-Yo" song who is found "sitttin' on a fence post, chewing (his) bubblegum."  I feel helpless.  I feel guilty.  I feel privileged.  I feel torn between the place and culture I am living in and the place and culture I left just a few short weeks ago.  I am not hungry.  I have a solid roof over my head.  I have access to have all of my needs met.

And I ask, "why?" Why has god allowed me to have these basic human rights when others don't?  Why do I get to choose what to order off a menu for dinner and my friends in Haiti are struggling to find any food at all.

Again, I have no answers.  I have no idea how to help the people of Haiti right now, while I sit in my bedroom that is larger than a family's tent in Port-au-Prince.

Yesterday's devotion from Sarah Young's Jesus Calling thankfully helped me do a little reality check.

"The best remedy is to refocus your mind and heart on Me...go step by step with me."

I keep saying, "all I can do is pray" and that seems so ineffective, intangible and unworthy.  "God please be with the Haitians during this time.  God help our Haitian brothers and sisters find food, clean water and shelter."

Tonight I took a moment to refocus that prayer.  "God, what would you have ME do?  How am I supposed to serve?"    If I am to keep praying, I will keep praying.  If I am to send money or supplies, I will try my best to make that happen. If I am supposed connect with people on the ground I will hope the electricity provides an opportunity.

I am still listening for an answer, but, to be honest, I feel better.  

Focusing on the Present

One of the many reasons Haiti has captured my heart is the fact that it is 1.5 hours away from U.S. soil by plane.  The distance from Miami to Port-au-Prince is about around 700 miles, the same distance from Minneapolis to Denver.  I don’t know why this fact always surprises me.  But I know I don’t ever want to forget it.

One week ago today I returned to MN after 2 months in Haiti.  Many people have asked, and yes, it has been hard to assimilate back into my life in MN.  However I have been surprised as to what is hard.  I have adjusted to having warm showers and driving on smooth roads but there are things I am struggling with.  

I know that I will return to Haiti, but I don’t know when or what it will look like – that is hard.  God has placed opportunities to serve and I desire to work with Haitians to help them help their communities thrive – that is hard because I know there are opportunities to serve right here in MN as well.  I left people I love and enjoy working with and that have such potential- that is hard. 

On another level, straddling life in two countries each with unique characteristics, opportunities and qualities is extremely hard.  I find myself comparing the two – the pros and cons – reasons to stay, reasons not to.  More so, I find myself trying to determine where god wants me, when, why and for how long. 

But, here is what I have discovered.  God doesn’t put a time line, deadline or to-do list together for you.  My job is to live each day in the present, to serve each person I meet and make sure to spread love and truth wherever I go.  Today that might be at the St. Louis Park Target, next week it will be the Columbia Heights Family Center, hopefully it will be back in Haiti sometime soon. 

For now, I have peace that god has set me where I am supposed to be.  That is all I can ask for.  

Zanmi Beni

I have had the opportunity to visit many organizations this summer.  The places that give me the most hope for the children of Haiti are children’s homes that really understand what it takes to raise happy and healthy kids. 

Back in June I had the opportunity to visit a children’s home for kids with special needs.  Zanmi Beni (meaning Blessed Friends) is a joint facility run by Operation Blessing International and Partners in Health.  Many of the children living there were in a wing of the hospital that needed to be used after the earthquake.  They were first relocated to a small orphanage and, with the help of PIH and Operation Blessing Int’l, were able to build what I can only describe as a beautiful oasis in the heart of the city. 

As you enter Zanmi Beni and drive down a beautiful tree lined drive-way there is a playground and mural with kids of all abilities playing and laughing together.  I was in awe – it is not very often you see children with varying abilities being included here in Haiti.  Many times they are not included in school and might even be left at local hospitals or orphanages because parents are not sure how to care for them. 

look closely... those are plastic lawn chairs with wheels!

Within their complex, Zanmi Beni has a huge library with books in English, Creole and French.  The have a medical center and 24-hour nursing care.  The children have organized activities throughout the day including school for those who are cognitively able.  Each room comfortably houses 2-3 children and the rooms are organized around a beautiful courtyard. 

In addition, their facility has physical therapy, water therapy and animal therapy.  They have recently started a chicken coop, an aquaponics system and a tropical fish farm to help their organization sustain itself. 

Patrick and I after a hearing aid fitting

The care and compassion that each child was 

given by their caretakers was refreshing and encouraging.  These children will grow up to know they are respected and valued.  I enjoyed every minute of my visit and pray that more and more organizations will be encouraged to step up and provide the best for even the smallest child.  That is how Haiti can change - one step at a time.  

Realities

Reality: the state or quality of being real. 

Real: true and actual, having verifiable existence.

This summer I have been thinking a lot about reality.  Being in Haiti, removed from my "day to day" in Minnesota is alternate reality.  It is real and raw and true.  But so different than the reality that I will return to in a week.  

But more so, reality - the state or quality of being real - doesn't have a zip code.  

Reality is the fact that some of my good friends left yesterday to continue their walk of faith in a small rural Haitian village in the southern tip of Haiti.  Their presence in the guest house is incredibly missed.  Their relationships with our staff can be seen and felt in the solemnness that surrounds our house today.       The reality is god called them to go and they listen.  The reality is that is hard.  

Reality is the second to last intern leaves tomorrow.  Shelby is a child of god filled with joy.  Her story is humbling and amazing and what she has endured and risen above is the clearest act of sheer faith and praise to her creator.  She brings life to a room and shares songs, hugs, and love wherever she goes.  

The reality is god is using her and she is saying yes.  

Reality is that I am also leaving soon.  Deep down I know it is time, but it will not be easy.  I have even thought about leaving early just so it will be over faster!  The reality is there are people here that I have come to love as family.  They are real.  Their hearts and ambitions are real.  God placed me here this summer to walk along side them and build them up and I can't help but feel that I am letting them down by leaving.  But then I remember what I tell myself when I send my preschoolers off to kindergarten and when I left my parent's to go to college.  At some point to have to let go and have faith.  Just because I won't see them everyday doesn't mean my love for them has changed.  Hopefully we have enriched each others lives enough to help us all to move on to the next steps of life.  

Reality is god loves each of us, not matter where we live, no matter who we interact with daily and no matter what.  That reality is reassuring.  That faith is not always easy, but I am choosing to find comfort in it today.