Day 13

I remember looking at the moon last night the same way I'm looking at the fuzzies between my toes right now; I just wanted to pinch my fingers around it and bring it closer to my eye for a good examination.

The moon is a beautiful ornament placed in the sky from time to time.  I am glad that something so elegant and mysterious is given to us as a nightlight.
And one of the greatest things about the moon, I think, is that everyone in the world sees the same one.  So, even when I'm immersed in a completely different culture, some things stay constant wherever I go.  It also brings some sort of comfort to know that the ones I love can look upon and even be inspired by the same wonder that I look upon.  It draws my mind to them, and it draws my mind to God.

Certainly, God is the only truly constant part of life (or death).  For, what if I were persecuted and locked up in a musty, concrete cell with no windows or ventilation?  I would not see the moon, nor feel the breeze, nor taste of any nutritious morsel; surely my health would fail me!  I would become frail and unpleasant to smell.  My breath would be shallow gasps filled with impurities.
Only my God would be the constant.
I know that there are many who are currently undertaking such irregularities of life.  My brothers and sisters who are crying out in thanks to their God for remaining with them in the midst of such ill-treatment.  We pray for them.


It is refreshing to know that I pray to the same God as all of you, friends.
It is perhaps even more refreshing to know that I pray to the same God that Moses, Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah, the Apostles, and Jesus prayed to.  And being not bound in time, God saw me right here, right now just as clearly then as he sees me now, and he thought of me and loved me just as deeply.  He knew that tomorrow I will be needing Him sitting/standing/walking directly beside, in front, and behind me as I go to Port Au Prince with no intention on returning for a week.
This leads me to deliver a prayer request on my behalf as well as the rest of the group.  I will become more immersed in the poverty than I ever have been.  The unknown taunts me day and night.
I ask for peace.  I ask for joy.  I ask for wisdom.  I ask for boldness.  I ask for forsaken vanities.  I ask for safety, though not at the cost of God's glory.

A nurse practitioner got in a couple days ago and has been staying in the guest house with Brent and I.  This evening she gave us some baggies of medication to combat the cholera going around there in case we contract.  I can say that I have no worries about that situation, though.  Everyone (except the nurse) seems pretty convinced that it won't be an issue for us... but I suppose only time will tell.


Thank you all for your love and support.  God has been using so many of your prayers already, and since there is no limit to his good graces we can never pray enough for them.
Let us, "Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse,... and test [Him] now in this,... if [He] will not open for [us] the windows of heaven and pour out for [us] a blessing until it overflows." all for His glory, praise, and honor.

Day 11

Almost two weeks have passed for Brent and I, here in Cayes.  We've been physically pushed to our limits with the workload here.  Today while we were loading a truck with materials for next weeks work project, Brent asked, "Have you ever worked so hard?"  I told him that I had never worked this hard for this long!  It's basically been a grueling labor experience here (especially today).  Yet, the Lord has been faithful to allow me to work joyfully with the knowledge of his guidance over my daily tasks.

That's one thing that has been especially wonderful for me, down here.  Taking the opportunities to "practice the presence of God" has been an experience that I've found invaluable.  The same way Jesus was sitting beside me looking into the fire, the night before I left, he has been working side by side with me through my time here.  He's right beside me helping as I lift, cut, grind, drill, hammer, organize, drive, and accomplish the countless other tasks.  Working has never been so joyful!  And he's with me when I rest!  When I drink coconut milk directly from the fruit, when I wipe the sweat from my eyes, when I shake the hands of the Haitian workers, and when we smile at each other, when I come in to eat the dry goat meat and pumpkin soup that I just unknowingly threw a piece of ant-infested bread into, He's STILL there.

Oh, friends, His yoke IS easy and His burden IS light.

There is something else that happens every morning, after I wake up and begin to head off to work, that makes the heat of the day more bearable.  I have been given the blessing of marveling before a breathtaking scene that is only seen on screens by most people:
Misted mountains in the distance with billowing clouds above.  Spanning the expanse below from where I stand to the place the mountain begins is covered in lush, green foliage.  (Yes, there are surely shades of other colors mixed within, but due to the lack of an adequate count of cone cells in my eyes, it is difficult for me to rightly explain them to you)... (but i'm sure there's green).  Gracing these trees are wisps of a gentle haze that extends into the mountainous terrain.

It really is awe-inspiring from our hill-top view.

Kind of a side note... the sky here always looks SO HIGH from the clouds!!  I love it.  I love it.  I love it.  They would be classified under the cumulonimbus I believe (my favorite).  So really, we have a nice assortment of stratus and cumulonimbus here depending on where you look.  How lovely.

Mixed with all of that grand information, comes something truly amazing in itself...

Today, in the midst of loading the materials delivery truck, it suddenly stopped changing gears.  It was stuck in neutral!  We couldn't even turn the truck off (whaaaa???)!  This was a problem because it is necessary that it moves not only to where the job site is, but also that it moves to different spots in the construction yard so we can load an assortment of materials.  It halted our progress for quite some time as a number of capable individuals attempted to get it working again.

When this all started I went over and hopped up onto the cab, where Brent and Shayne Shaw were sitting, to see how it was going.  After a silly confrontation in my head about whether to suggest prayer or not was over, I went ahead and asked if it'd been done.  It had not.  So, I climbed around to the side of the vehicle and said a quick prayer that God would fix this problem, unless he had something greater to show us by keeping it in an immobile state.  After the prayer I slid into the cab and tried it again.  A press on the clutch, numerous tugs and jerks on the stick, and... nothing.

Disheartened, I slid back out with a sigh.  I started to think that praying was a silly suggestion.  I thought that prayer never really amounts to anything like that.  I recalled other times where my prayers weren't answered, and for a split second I started to lose my faith.  No doubt the devil was throwing all he could at me to create the first fruits of apostasy in my heart.  Such a thing could not be allowed.  I remembered something a dear friend and brother in Christ once challenged me with when my faith was shaken more than ever before, "...Which shows greater faith, believing in something because you can see it, or believing in something even when you can't."  Or something like that.

Anyway, with that thought I dismissed Satan and believed God.

Not long after, the big boss Tim Reinhard came over to see it.  We still couldn't figure it out.  So, Tim ended up contacting the driver who wasn't around at the moment and told him the problem.  The driver said that it had never had that problem before and he didn't know what to do.  Once I heard that, I looked up to the sky, once more, and remember audibly saying, "Okay, God..."

I went up into the cab one more time.  I looked out the windshield and saw some guys talking.  I was sure they'd see me, and I became frightened at what they'd think if they saw me praying in there.  I became disgusted at myself for even contemplating such a thing.  So, I put away my foolishness and prayed sincerely to God for his provision to fix whatever was wrong.  The moment after I prayed I looked up, pressed my foot to the clutch, laid my hand to the stick shift, and what happened next... all I can describe it as is God swiftly moved my hand. The truck was in gear.  The breath was taken out of me as I realized what had just happened.  I called out the window with a stutter, "Sh-shayne!!  I th-think I got it."  He gave me a look of bewilderment as he asked, "What?".  "Yeah, I think i got it in gear."  He hurried up next to me and was shocked to see what had happened.  "What did you do???"  "I prayed!" I said.  He responded, "Why didn't I think of that?!"

I dropped out of the cab, and it seemed like all eyes were on me.  So, without hesitation I walked toward the others with my finger pointing up.  We praised God.

I don't know if this seems super cool to anyone else, but it changed me.  There are a lot of things in my life that I can place the label coincidence on, but not this one.  So much time was spent, by much more experienced and capable men than I, trying to find a way to "degaje," which is "make it work" in Creole (a popular phrase down here), and I didn't do anything different than them!  I simply placed my hand on the stick, and it immediately went into place.  And so, I am grateful to God for honoring my prayers and the prayers of all of you back home who have asked that He be glorified through me.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I have typed this last bit.

I have a good Father.

He loves me.

He loves to bless me.

I love to bless Him.

Glory to God.

Day 7

It's hard for me to think of what exactly to write here.  I'm tempted to retreat to a previous journal entry so that I can process my thoughts on the current day before releasing them to the very public realm where they will surely be torn apart and ridiculed without restraint.
I suppose I can explain the events that took place today and attempt to restrain my thoughts on most of these particular events for now.
I woke up this morning extremely tired and with a head/stomach ache.  Partook of a breakfast consisting of a peanut butter and banana pancake (singular, due to the stomach aching factor) accompanied by some sort of fruit juice.  Those partaking with me were as follows, my roommate Brent, Pastor Ed Schwartz, Shayne Shaw, and three elderly german-folk: Olga, Jacob, and Horace.  We can understand very little of what they say to us (Ed understands a word every now and then).  I suspect they hold a belief that somehow during the night we pick up German as another language and can understand them by the time we see them the next morning, because they speak to us in rather lengthy phrases when we are in the same room.  I find this quite humorous, and would have it no other way.
After breakfast we went out to work.  I spent most of the morning cleaning out the backs of freezers and refrigerators around the compound.  It was a nice change of pace, actually, from the construction type of job.  So then, after an early lunch of an orange soup with potatoes in it, Brent and I went back to the construction yard to prepare for a trip into town.  We needed to pick up paint, nails, and some lumber for school benches we will be constructing later on.  I generally enjoy the rides into town.  I like to see the mobs of people going about their business.  We smile at each other a lot.
Once we were back, more work was to be done.  At 4:00 we had a memorial service for Gabriel Reinhard to mark one year passing since his death.  An orange tree was planted as a symbol of his life after death in the Reinhard's backyard-ish area.  God touched my heart in a lot of ways during the gathering... more on that later, perhaps.
Immediately following the commemoration, I was summoned back to the construction yard.  I didn't feel ready to go back to working, so I took my time getting up to follow.  I was trying to process everything I had just witnessed and heard, and I wanted to look into the sky longer (it was especially gorgeous today).  But as I lingered, the one who would best be described as my boss turned around and called again for me to hurry back down.  So, I did.
Then we drove the four-wheeler back up to the Guest House where we met Ed and Shayne for dinner.  Dinner has now passed, and I am now lead to the current point in time where I sit atop my bunk journaling and blogging.


I know it's getting long, so you don't have to continue reading if you so desire.  But I hate to leave a post without some thoughtful content.  Sooooo...

I wish to share the journal entry I wrote the day before I left home.
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Day -1
Oct 10, 2010

I sit fireside beneath a blanket of stars.  Once the faithful souls have departed to tend to their sleep, I alone am left.  Although, not truly alone.  One other draws near.  He's squatting down beside me.  He doesn't speak a word, but silently gazes into the glowing embers with me, and it's comforting.
When he turns his head toward me, I cannot hear myself breath.  The sound of something like raindrops gently breaking upon a polished marble floor becomes the only sound I can perceive.  A gentle washing now begins as the water falls around me.  Cleansing from head to toe, I feel Him wash me clean.  Just as it came, the water fades out, and I am left clean.
The sounds I now hear are smooth and gentle to my ears.  It is purity.  An unadulterated peace envelopes my soul, and I feel safe.

I'm beginning to realize that I shall never be the same man if I choose the journey ahead.  I will change.  I realize that I won't be the same son, the same sibling, the same grandson, the same nephew, or the same friend I once was.  It's alright, though.  It is a better thing.  Where my Father leads me on, I will run head-long.  For I know he goes before me, and he is my rear-guard.

So, it is good to be beside this fire, beneath a blanket of stars, alone... -- with One other.

Day 4

Here I sit atop my bunk staring at the white space in front of a blinking cursor wondering what will come next to fill the blankness.  I'm not sure what to write about my day today.  I've been journaling.  I suppose I may type out select entries throughout my stay here in Les Cayes, Haiti.

I would like to thank everyone who has been praying me through this.  I have faith that God will honor the prayers from the faithful back home.  If I ever felt like a pilgrim traveling through a foreign land in this life, much more now.  I know I have but one home.  I look to it every day.  It's fair and beautiful.  It beckons me daily to heed the call of its inhabiters, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God, the Almighty, who was, and who is, and who is to come." and, "Worthy are You, our Lord and our God to receive glory and honor and power; for You created all things, and because of Your will they existed, and were created."

Thank you, Father.

Following is the journal entry written after my first day in Haiti.

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DAY 1

Oct 12, 2010

Along with a busload of others, I made my way through Port Au Prince into Les Cayes, where we've made our residence.  The scenes that I saw today were the type that leave you lacking for words.  Even if I would've had something I could say about it, I wouldn't have wanted to.  I only desired to be silent.  My communication mainly consisted of the occasional head shake/nod or an affirming glance to the others sitting behind me when they spoke.

What looked to me like square miles of tent housing occupied every piece of available land, and a look in revealed a number of bare naked children wondering aimlessly amongst the worn tarps.  They have no where to be.  Just like their mothers who are openly bathing on the outskirts of the makeshift city.

I didn't really look at any faces.  Maybe I was too afraid to.  Maybe I was afraid at what I'd see in their eyes; afraid at what I knew that would do to my soul!  I knew there was no probable way for me to help them from where I was sitting, safe and shielded from the unforgiving world in a bus.  How could I look them in the eye?

I'll hopefully find someone within my sphere of influence soon.  A person who needs someone to save them from the world.  Then I'll look them in the eyes.  Then I won't be afraid.  Then I can share Jesus' love.

Thank you Jesus for loving these Haitians so much that You would send your beloved disciples to meet them where they are.  Thank you for giving me a new heart that can be willing to love these souls.  Thank you for being with me, "Even unto the end of the age."

Help me not to forget it.

Amen.