Mwen Renment Ayiti!

One week ago, I returned from Haiti. Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out how to sum up the trip, which is border-lining impossible. But I have…humbling.

I spent eight days in a level four, third world nation who was and still is the poorest country in the western hemisphere. I’m sure you can only imagine what it’s like after the earthquake.

There are four major parts to the trip that I want to touch on…the Lord, the place, the people, the children. Bare with me as I go through it all.

The Lord: I know the He’s the same no matter where you are, but for whatever reason, He felt like a different God in Haiti. At Church on Sunday, the people were praising God like I have never seen anyone praise Him in my life. On Tuesday night, at the beginners English class, never in my life have I seen someone sing “Jesus Loves Me” with so much conviction. On Thursday night, when the women’s English class sang “Because He Lives” in Creole, I started crying because these women (and man) sang at the top of their lungs, giving EVERY OUNCE they had to the Lord. If the people in the US had the same conviction, Church would be wildly different.

The Place: Haiti is beautiful. Even in its destruction, it’s beautiful. People live in tents or in shacks that are surrounded by garbage. But they have sunsets that are beyond measure and sunrises that remind you of just how amazing God’s creation is. The buildings that are still there are gorgeous, some of them covered in amazing graffiti, most showing their love for their country. It’s hard to ignore the beauty of this nation, even when you see the devastation.

The People: Oh, the people. They are kind, beautiful, God-fearing, priceless, loving people. They adore the Lord more than anyone I’ve ever met. When I was at Church on Sunday, there were at least 100 “thank you Jesus” shouts throughout the two hour service. These people sang with conviction. It didn’t matter if you had the worst voice in the world (which bodes well for me), the song was for the Lord and He thinks your voice is perfect. When we finished our women’s English class on Thursday, so many of the women came up to me and hugged me, kissed me on the cheek, and told me that they loved me. And I loved them, too. On Friday night, I was saying goodbye to Francz, one of our security guards who I had become close with. He gave me his necklace because he wanted to give me a gift, but that’s all he had to give me. They have bigger hearts than anyone I’ve met and I hope to someday have a heart like theirs.

The Children: MELT. MY. HEART. They are beautiful and perfect and precious and adored children of the Lord. They take your hand and never let go. They raise their arms up to you to be held and once they’re in your arms, they never want to be put down. They’re fascinated by blonde hair and fair skin. They smile at you and you smile back because your face doesn’t want to do anything else. When you have to say goodbye, a little piece of your heart goes with them because you just can’t help it. I love them to pieces and still do. They’re so easy to love. They love easily too. They love soccer. They love sidewalk chalk. They love hand-clapping games. They love snuggling in your lap. They love cameras. They love sunglasses. They love telling you they love you. I’m surprised that none of them ended up in my suitcase. When I go back, they probably will.

I want to go back. No. I have to go back. Haiti changed me. And I am thankful.