Mwen Renmen Haiti

Our squad arrived in Grand-Guave, Haiti on Saturday after a long day of bus rides and customs lines.  We’re all (yep, all 45 of us) camping (yep, the tent kind) on a compound/beachfront respite from real life.  I pitched my tent on a grassy knoll underneath a mango tree, and it isn’t unusual to hear them pelting my piti piti (little) canvas home throughout the course of the day.  As I write this, the sun is setting over the Caribbean Sea, and the waves are crashing on the shore about 50 yards away from me.  At a breezy 75ish degrees, the weather couldn’t be more perfect for an evening in mid-February.  A few girls are singing and playing guitar out on the beach, one of my teammates is practicing her Creole with one of the Haitian kids, and the rest of us are hanging out in the shacoon (round pavilion thingy in the middle of the property) with blogs to write or books to read or hammocks to nap in.

 

I no longer get to hear “Americana, americana!” accompanied with hissing and staring, but instead get followed around and pointed at by children yelling, “You!  You!”  I’ve finally given up my personal space issues, as they aren’t conducive to the Haitian kiddos, who have none.  They grab your hands and jump into your arms and stroke your hair as if your body isn’t your own, but it’s all good.  They’re sweet for the most part, and they even speak a little English, so trying to communicate is a little easier than last month.  The guys who help around the compound are also very enthusiastic about teaching us Creole, so my vocabulary has been expanding little by little. 

 
This month we’re working side-by-side with Mission of Hope International, an organization based here in Grand-Guave.  They run a community center sort of area that includes a church, school, and lots of drinkable water from spickets (yay!). They also partner with Hands and Feet Project and Be Like Brit, an orphanage currently being constructed.  The church, though mostly Haitian, includes people from all over the world, so they tried to disperse as many English translators (a.k.a. the youth of the church) as possible among us on Sunday.  It’s really nice, knowing that we have the opportunity to understand a service again.
 
For the last several days, our teams have been helping to construct a new school (to replace the one that got destroyed in the earthquake) in the middle of the community center, clean up their library, organize item donations, assist in their pharmacy, and cleaning/renovating things around the compound (also owned by MOHI).  It’s sweaty, sunburny work, but it’s been fun to do it with people from the other teams.  I’ve also enjoyed having a role that is a little more task-oriented than people-oriented, since I like things that are well-defined and cater to my “thinker” personality type.

 
Every World Race team is required to have a feedback session once a day.  Each teammate receives positive (stuff they did well) and constructive (stuff they need to work on) feedback from each of the other teammates.  Unlike most everyone else, it’s one of my favorite parts of the day.  With that comes the onslaught of people approval issues for me, though.  God has really been challenging me lately to remember that my worth and identity are all in Him, in His thoughts of me, in what He sees me do – regardless of what others see.  He’s been continually reminding me not to do the work for the positive feedback – it’s all for Him, not for the praise and approval of my teammates.  Keeping that mindset isn’t easy around a group of 45 people, when it’s more difficult to have a noticeable presence without doing something awesome.  But I guess the flipside of that is that you can’t please everyone.  So do it for an audience of One.
 
As always, thank you for the love and prayers and support in all the ways.  Our Internet access is essentially limited to once every 8 days, so I’ll do my best to keep up with each of your comments and Facebook posts.  Please keep up your prayers for our safety and health and overall vitality, as the heat has been taking a toll on a lot of us.  Thanks, thanks, thanks! 
 

Rosa

We visited a woman named Rosa the other day.  She was a very small woman.  Her dress was modest, and her voice was timid.
 
But her prayers were not.
 
The woman prays with a vengeance.  She knows God will heal her swollen, injured ankle.  She proclaims healing over herself in Jesus’ Name.  Again and again and again.  I think I would have stopped after a few times.  But she believes with everything in her that God is with her and that He will heal her.
 
We prayed for her too.  We prayed with passion, conviction, tears.  We asked God to bring healing.  We asked for a miracle.  We knew He was big enough, strong enough, powerful enough.  We had faith.  We knew God could heal Rosa.
 
But He didn’t.  We left, not faithless, but disappointed and full of questions nonetheless.
 
How do we deal with those kinds of things?  With things requested in faith, but not received?  At what point should we transition from pleas for merciful healing to confident proclamations of, ‘Get up and walk’?  And when that time does come, how do we handle that not happening?
 
Our team talked about this for awhile that night.  It was a great discussion, but it was another one of those where we didn’t land anywhere.  And you can’t, really.  Not with those kinds of questions.  Our desires and expectations don’t necessarily reflect His.  What can you do, then, except to accept that some things are just beyond our knowledge and understanding, trusting that… well, He knows?
 
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.  Isaiah 55:8-9
 
 

Pretend Time

Dominicans don’t function on real time. It’s fine for the most part, as long as you start factoring 30 minutes-2 hours into whatever you plan on doing.  Really, you should just plan on not having a plan altogether.
 
For example, we needed a few more things for dinner one night, so Matt and Rachel went out with Noky, our contact, to buy them in town.  It should have only taken 10-15 minutes; but instead of going straight to the store, Noky took them to his house, where they all chilled on the couch and drank tea and talked with his family and read books to his nephew and generally had no idea what was going on for 45 minutes.  Then they went to the store, which, as expected, took 10-15 minutes.
 


I once dedicated an entire day to laundry.  Rachel and I hauled the team’s dirty ropas over to Noky’s to use their washer and dryer, only to find out that their electricity wouldn’t be coming on for another hour.  So, as is their custom, we camped out on their porch, drank coffee, and talked to the family.  The power still wasn’t on 2 (or so) hours later, so Noky’s 5-year-old nephew, Daivid, suggested we take their washer to the church, since we had power there.  No big deal.  We just had the Mosaic men come on over and carry the washer down the street, through the “town square”, and into the church.  Where there was no power.  So we washed our clothes by hand.  Inside the washer.  Nice.


 


Pretend Time allowed us to spend about 6 hours (instead of the expected 2-3) in a desolate mountain town with no church presence.  Noky’s initial desire was that we all walk up there (I wore flip flops – who knew it was a hike rather than a casual stroll?) and pray over the town and its abandoned church building.  Since Noky knows everyone on the face of the Dominican Republic, however, we ended up stopping by several homes and, of course, sitting down and eating/drinking rice/beans/coffee/juice.  Three of us met a guy who allowed us to pray for him and his family.  (We ended up running into him 2 more times that day.)  We met another woman named Madera, who had an injured foot and lived alone most of the time.  In spite of her poverty and limited mobility, she offered us bowls of hot arroz y habichuelas and expressed her thankfulness for how God had blessed her.  We prayed for her foot and left, humbled.


 
I’m actually a huge fan of Pretend Time.  The American way of rushing from one thing to another, always pressed for time and focusing on what’s ahead, is exhausting.  It minimizes the present, adding pressure to you or the people you’re with to wrap it up as soon as possible so they won’t keep you from anything important.  It’s different here.  Relationships, the present, the situation at hand – those are given priority over the next thing.  Enjoy where you are.  It’s okay.  Be thankful for this moment.  Don’t worry about the next one before it’s time.


 
That’s something else I’ve noticed.  All the believers here are so thankful.  Their prayers are full of fervent praise and thanksgiving for everything God has done for them.  Those with injuries and barely a bowl of rice and beans to their name live and breathe a spirit of thanksgiving, a spirit of worship, the Spirit of God.  God gave them a life to live, and they don’t take it for granted.

Don't Flush the Yellow Toilet Paper

Hola, y Dio te bendiga!  We’ve been in the beautiful, hot, mountainous Dominican Republic since Friday, the 13^th.  Thankfully, the day’s events didn’t correspond with superstition, and we had a nice and smooth travel day.  From our hike from the church where we stayed during Launch to the bus station at 6am, to the train, to the shuttle, to the airport, it was an exhausting but great day.


 
Team Mosaic’s ministry site is at a church in Arroyo Cano, Dominican Republic, where roosters crow all day (and night) long, natives never get “peopled out”, used toilet paper lives in the trash, running water is available “sometimes”, and coffee plants abound.  We set up our sleeping bags on benches in the sanctuary so the rats can’t kill us, and we flush the toilet, take “showers”, and wash dishes via buckets of water.  Oh, and they’re celebrating the Festival of the Saints from the 14^th to the 22^nd, so there’s been loud music playing outside everyday until about 2am.  Thank God for earplugs.  So it’s different… but in a sort of simple, hilarious, “I can’t believe this is actually my life” kind of way.



Everyone here speaks Spanish (and very little English), so we’ve relied on our fabulous, Spanish-speaking team leader, Rachel, to translate.  We cluster around her during each church service or do our best to pick out the handful of palabras de español we happen to know.  The church body is small but unbelievably friendly, and few of them leave without a handshake or a hug.  Each time we visit someone’s house, they offer us a place to sit and something to eat or drink.  To them, everyone is family.



Our ministry “jobs” here are still sort of in the works, but we expect to be helping out at the Compassion International base next to our church in Arroyo Cano and the one in Desarrollo.  We’ll also be visiting and building relationships with families, doing Bible studies with the church pastor, and preaching (eek!) in another village.



That being said, we haven’t done much since we’ve been here.  Except for the one time we ate lunch and drank fresh, homegrown coffee at our ministry host’s house, or when we hung out with un hermano de iglesia, Jesús, and picked oranges from his orange field.  We also drove into Desarrollo to hang out with the Compassion International kids and ate ice cream with our host.  (Side story:  It’s really hard for people here to say my name.  Most people here go by more than one name, so we joked that my “other name” should be Ashley.  The Compassion kids called me that for the rest of the afternoon.)  And we hang out with todos los niños, who are constantly screaming, “americanos!  Mira, americanos!” as they run around the church or peek in our windows.  Overall, it’s been pretty neat.




 
Thanks for the continued prayers and encouragement!  Please keep praying as we learn to get into the swing of things and as a few of us have been feeling a little icky the last couple of days.  Muchas gracias!
 

 

30, Flirty, and... Unhinged

I leave for the World Race in 30 days. 

THIRTY DAYS.

I feel like I'm going to be stuck in a perpetual cycle of crazy until the day I leave.

January 9th:  End of Pretend Crazy.  Beginning of Actual Crazy.

My mind is constantly spinning with things I still need to get done before I take off.  And I feel like I can never get on top of anything.

I'm leaving in 30 days and I need to break in these Tevas and where can I find packing cubes and I don't have enough dinosaur thank you cards.

And I need to be nicer to my family and spend time with Jesus and stop saying cuss words in my head and reflect on how the world isn't about to end and how hundreds of people have done this before.

Huh.

But then I think more, and I feel I've become this icky person that I don't really want to bring on the World Race.  You know, that mission trip thingy where you're supposed to be selfless and sacrificial and love Jesus and other people more than your own self.  

 

I mean, it's not like anyone really wants to wake up to this teammate every morning.

I think I've determined that my icky self comes out more when I'm at home.  Not because I don't love my family, but because I know they're not going anywhere.  I can be snarky and obnoxious and feel entitled to that last bowl of chicken chili because, at the end of the day, I know they'll still love me.  This is unfortunate, because while I've often felt like I (and everyone) was meant to be a missionary in my own home, I think I need someone to be a missionary to me.

It's a good thing Jesus ran around with crazies.  Because I sure don't expect to step into every country and be the super awesome white American Christian who can tell all the natives how to get it together.  And it's also a good thing He shows a lot of grace, because it's something I need a lot.  And something I need to learn how to do better.

Sometimes, when I want a brutal spiritual punch in the face, I read My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers.  It calls you out on your crap and tells you how to be more like Jesus.  And that's awesome.  Anyway, here is a line from "The Opposition of the Natural" that stuck out to me yesterday:
 

The cost to your natural life is not just one or two things, but everything.  Jesus said, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself. . .” (Matthew 16:24).  That is, he must deny his right to himself, and he must realize who Jesus Christ is before he will bring himself to do it.  Beware of refusing to go to the funeral of your own independence.
 

Jesus, I desire to come after you.

Giving up my other desires is going to be rough.

Not freaking out about what I've left behind is going to be rough.

Living out of my righteous self instead of my icky self...  That is going to be rough.

Please help me.

Thanks.
 

Schmentitlement

On October 23, 2011, I surrendered my rights to many things on the World Race. 
 
Because we’re not entitled to anything. 
 
Because things will most definitely be different from what we expect. 

They told us to give it up.

This is not about you. 

 
So here are a few things on which I’m throwing in that towel… for the next year, at least.  Ha.

 
I give up my right to the same route.
I give up my right to the same teammates.
I give up my right to know all the plans.
I give up my right to have rights.
To be alone…  (eek)
To keep my secrets.
To individualism.
To my personal belongings…
To be right.
To (try to) be prettier, smarter, cooler, or more spiritual than you.
To have 1,000 comments per blog post (although that would be super awesome).
To (try to) deal with my crazy on my own.
To find a husband on the World Race.
To a civilized toilet.
To a civilized sleeping arrangement.
To civilization.
To a daily cup of coffee.
To be comfortable.
To share my negative opinions about others, with others.
To base my worth and identity on your opinions of me.
To sit on the sidelines (most of the time…).
To remain the same.

America Racers

You don’t have to be a World Racer to make a difference.  To share Jesus.  To love strangers.  To pray over people you just met.  To buy a drink for everyone in Starbucks, just because.  You don’t have to be an overseas missionary-in-training to prophesy Truth over ears that are aching to hear it, hearts that are struggling to believe it.  You don’t have to be on a post-camp high to be excited about what the Holy Spirit is up to.  Not because it’s required, not because you’d have guilt feelings otherwise, but because you’ve been invited to be a part of the story.   And you know there’s nothing better.
 
These are the America Racers.  They are the Dinahs, Mikes, Bryans, and Lawrences of obscure Bible colleges, who drive all the way from California to Indiana to share Jesus with people who have no clue and remind those who forgot they did.  These are the ones who introduce themselves to three twenty-something females who are simply minding their own business, and ask how they can pray for them.  They don’t care about feeling awkward or sounding ridiculous because they care about the gospel of God more than their own selves.  They’ll ask you about your relationship with God, not because they want to compare yours with theirs, but because they want to speak fullness into where it is lacking.  They’ll bring up Bible verses you just read, not because they’re trying to show off, but because… oh, yeah, you’ve already heard them three times in the last three days, and maybe, just maybe, God is trying to make a point.  They'll make you marvel at how a relationship with Him was never meant to be complicated, because it's really just  about loving Him and loving people.  They'll give you a glimpse of how life would look if we all actually did that.  They’ll talk about the Lord  like they know Him, because… well, they do.  He is their Father.  Their Counselor.  Their Savior.  Their Best Friend. 

And, at the end of the day, you won't really be surprised, because you'll remember that this is what people who love Jesus do.
 
An encounter with them will change you forever, because it must be a lot like encountering Jesus Himself.



Ever met someone(s) like this?  Tell us about it!