Moments of Grace

    Life is hard here. Really hard. All the time. My heart is usually (always) aching over something going on. In the midst of the stresses of being always surrounded by people, of straining to understand what is being said around me and of attempting to love well, I have been learning to soak in moments of grace as they are dispensed. I need to consciously remember that even here, life is full of grace and that when I seek it out, I will see it.

   Yesterday was particularly full of those moments.  A team member playing guitar and singing on the front porch, one of our boys grinning huge as he plays the bongos, because he always grins huge when music is involved. The Holy Spirit is almost tangibly present in that moment. Watermelon juice dripping down my chin in the neighborhood we visited, a gift from the people whose house we were at. My favorite Haitian food and drink in one meal and the knowing smiles from the girls who made it when they saw my face. A bracelet made for me by one of the girls who comes to our house. Laughing with the same girl as we ride down the highway in the bed of a pick-up in the rain. A tiny boy curled up on my lap, head on my shoulder and his thumb in his mouth.

    Today held a stark reminder of how difficult life is here, how much suffering goes on all around me. These moments of grace give me something to cling to when hope threatens to be overwhelmed.

Headed to the States

   I will be headed back into the States for a bit in July. I'm not exactly sure right now how long my visit will be, or what comes next in my life. This gives me lots of feelings. Prayers are appreciated as always.
  That being said, if you are going to be in Florida in July, chances are I would love to see you. Let me know if you feel the same and we can try to make it happen. :)

Sunburned Blan

   One of the things I have a love/hate relationship with about the house I live in and the kids I know is their capacity for noting and discussing physical differences. The kids frequently examine my skin, head, hair, arms, and legs for things that are remarkable to them. Then they comment on them. Freckles, dandruff, the mole on my left arm, all have been catalogued and discussed by the kids in minute detail. The upside of this is that is has freed me to ask more questions than I might have otherwise, for fear of being accidentally offensive.

   Last week we went up in the mountains past Miragoane, the next town down the highway from us. The view was spectacular and this Florida girl absolutely savored a day in the sunshine, riding in the back of a truck. Until I got home and saw my sunburned skin. I tried to be conscientious about sunscreen application, but apparently I did not try hard enough. So, this whole Leah-is-sunburned thing has been a source of fascination for the kids here, who have been monitoring it since it happened.

   On Friday night we all looked at my red forehead and arms, and in my broken Kreyol I told them I had been burned by the sun. We talked about whether it hurts (yes) and how it is not good. The next stage in sunburns is of course the peeling, which started this morning. We have a couple younger girls at the house right now, who were seriously freaked out when they saw it. One girl in particular made horrified faces when she noticed my forehead,  and it has been priceless to try to talk to them about the sun and the burn I had and how this is part of the healing.

  I love this opportunity to talk freely about these things, to learn about each other’s races, and to laugh together. My prayer is that this experience is part of the building blocks that lead us into relationship with each other, recognizing and celebrating our differences, even when they are as casual as a sunburn.

Living in love

“Turn around and believe that the good news that we are loved is better than we ever dared hope, and that to believe in that good news, to live out of it and toward it, to be in love with that good news, is of all glad things in this world the gladdest thing of all. Amen, and come Lord Jesus.”

-Frederick Buechner

     I have been sitting in this quote and in Romans 8 this week, remembering the bigger reasons I am in Haiti. Lately I have been wrestling with culture shock and questions about the next steps for my life, feeling discouraged and wondering if my time here has been more of a waste than I care to admit, even to myself. Many (maybe most) days have felt more like a struggle to get through. The ever present language barrier and the many, many, many ways that this culture is foreign to how I think have had me questioning if I can ever learn enough to be a blessing in this country.

   Earlier this week I was given the grace of spending a few days with friends who are rapidly becoming dear to me. (Cheese and air conditioning were included!) In the course of my conversations with them, and after reading some quotes from Mother Theresa, I was reminded again of the importance of living in love. Those words sound and feel so cliché typed out, but I cannot think of another way to describe what has been happening in my heart.

  One of the many beautiful things about Romans 8 is Paul’s discourse on how nothing in all Creation can separate us from the love of Christ. In the course of conversation this week I was gently reminded of my own need to live out of that truth and in that security. Even when all I can see are my own failures and shortcomings, when I am entirely insufficient for and overwhelmed by the need in front of me, I am loved. While, this is not an excuse not to keep giving all I can, it is a balm to my heart on the days when I question everything I am doing.

   There is another side to what I have been relearning this week. If I want to imitate Christ (and I do), loving others is the most important thing I can do. Even when I don’t have anything for their hypertension, or their diabetes and no idea how to help them get what they need. Even when all I want to do is throw up my hands and hide in my room because I understand nothing that is going on around me, I can still love. I can love in the middle of a pressing crowd, when one little boy puts his arms around my waist and rests his head on my stomach. I can love the little girl who walked all the way down the beach with me, but who is too shy to actually sit with me. I can love the woman fighting chronic pain from a lifetime wrestling for daily bread. I can love.

   Friends, will you join me in loving by continuing to pray for me and these people I care about? Amen, and come Lord Jesus.

Sorry!

 To anyone who's interested, I apologize for the lack of posts about what I am actually doing lately.  I keep starting posts talking about what's going on, and I look something like this.

Then, I read over what I have written, and it is so trite and cliche and awful that I absolutely cannot bear to put my name on it and release it to the internet. I feel a lot like this.

 

We have had some precious days and beautiful experiences in the last week (including Communion on Sunday!), which have left me feeling like this.  

My goal is to update you all in clear and beautiful prose soon.
(Thank you Betsaida for supplying me with hysterical pictures and much entertainment this afternoon.)
 

Quick Prayer Request

    Life is inherently unstable in this country. Plans change frequently. Flexibility is vital. All of that being said, what the second half of this year is going to look like for me has recently become a giant question mark. Since it is already June, I am a little stressed. Will you take a minute to pray for me as I make decisions in the next few days? Thanks friends.