Haiti VBS Trip

Haiti was amazing/hard/frustrating/humbling/encouraging/hot/sweaty/joy filled/amazing. Watching my team walk through the experiences we had in Haiti was all of those times 10,000. 

We might just owe the parents of all of the kids an apology, because the teenagers they picked up from the church were not the same ones that they dropped off there ten days earlier. They have seen children with oozing sores on their heads and shoes that don't fit, babies with distended stomachs who sleep on rocky dirt for a bed, families still living in tent cities after the earthquake, and mothers afraid to move their children until after a voodoo ceremony.

But they've also held sleeping babies who are loved by an entire community, danced and smiled and laughed with children, played soccer until their shirts are soaked through with sweat, begun to learn a new language and a new culture, perfected the art of pretending to know song lyrics in Creole, tasted fresh squeezed passion fruit juice, and been encouraged by a church that is very much alive and very much at work.

Officially, our team ran a VBS in Fond Chaval. 

Unofficially, we played soccer, painted the inside of a house, repaired cars, helped with minor (and not so minor) medical needs, worked on a visa situation, moved a woman and her six (soon to be seven) children out of a shack on the mountain and into the tent city in the mission compound, put together baby kits, set up a "store" for a group of pastors wives to get things that they needed, distributed vitamins and rice, hung out at an orphanage, swam in one of the world's few salt water lakes, went to church, slept on the roof and the porch, played in the rain, held babies, taught clapping games, listened to stories, rode (and drove!) on crazy roads, peed in places people never thought they would pee, washed dishes, made juice, celebrated anniversaries and birthdays, sorted snacks on a moving bus, slept for about five hours a night, and took thousands of pictures. 

I would do it again in a heartbeat. (Especially, if I had a chance to finish catching up on sleep first!) Because, the only truly important thing that we did was attempt to let Jesus live through us. The rest of it, in the end, doesn't matter. 

It doesn't matter how often people were triggered or how many hours were spent at night not sleeping. It doesn't matter how often we laughed hysterically or choked back tears. And, it doesn't matter how much or how little we've changed, so long as that change means that we look a little more like Jesus. 

I'm sure that I'll share more stories later, but, for now: Yes, I'm glad I went!