A FEW STANDOUT MOMENTS FROM OUR NOVEMBER 2023 HAITI TRIP…
(The photo above was one of my favorites of the week – a young boy and his little sister, sitting outside the St Michel church building on Saturday afternoon)
VERY COOL MOMENT: The Mayor of St Michel hugging Carol and saying “I love you.”
Saturday afternoon in St Michel, Carol Hopkins is leading a half-day women’s seminar at the church building. One of the attendees is actually the mayor of St. Michel, a woman we had met once before on our July trip. She comes over to speak with us at the end of the program, and she seems very moved by what Carol has shared. Before she leaves, she gives Carol a big hug, and in crystal clear English she looks at Carol and says, “I love you” – we’re all just kind of looking around at each other stunned at that point, pretty much blown away by what just happened.
VERY FUNNY MOMENT: Me getting to fist-bump a Haiti National Police officer.
Over the course of the week we got stopped at a total of 7 different Haiti National Police checkpoints. The HNP officers can be pretty intimidating – dressed in full military gear, faces covered in bella clavas, carrying large automatic assault weapons. At the first checkpoint our driver was taken away into a small building due to a problem with the Jeep’s registration, leaving the 4 of us Americans sitting alone on the side of the road for an extended time; at another checkpoint all of us had to surrender our passports for examination (which, as Jason Ayers can tell you, is when you start praying that your passport’s going to be returned to you).
So on our final day in Haiti we’re going through and-yet-another HNP checkpoint. Speaking in Creole (obviously), the officer asks our driver who these Americans are, and our driver (semi-accurately) says “preachers.” The officer bends down, looks at us intently for a moment, and then – without saying a word – extends his arm through the driver’s side window toward me in the passenger seat, fist clenched. Slightly uncertain whether this is actually what I’m supposed to be doing, I cordially fist-bump the guy – and he laughs and waves us on.
VERY HUMBLING MOMENT: Sunday morning worship in St Michel.
It’s Sunday morning in St Michel, and the singing is amazing as always. Not sure if I’ve heard this in Haiti before, but the congregation is singing “Count Your Many Blessings” in Creole. It hits me pretty hard in that moment, as I’m thinking about the realities of their day-to-day existence – the world they have come from as they entered this church building, and the world they will return to when they leave it. And yet here they are, singing this song with such joy and passion. I wonder if I could do the same, and I think about all the (truly “First World Problem”) stupid stuff I can get so torqued about, living my 21st Century American Dream life. It was pretty humbling.
VERY CONVINCTING MOMENT: Also Sunday morning worship in St Michel.
I notice a woman in the back of the auditorium, maybe 50 to 60 years old. She’s in a wheelchair, and on second glance I realize she only has one leg. In Haiti of course there are no safety nets – no Social Security Disability payments, no government services of any kind for that matter. So especially in a super-remote area like St Michel, a condition like that leaves a person even more destitute than most. And yet when it comes time for taking up the collection this woman asks someone to wheel her up to the front, where the collection baskets are at, and I watch as she extends an emaciated arm to drop something in the basket. My mind immediately goes to Jesus’ story of the widow and the two mites, and I’m struck with the realization that all I know – my only frame of reference – is giving, as Jesus described, out of “surplus and abundance.” Realistically, I have no true idea of what it’s like to give out of such incomprehensible scarcity – sets the bar pretty high, and again I wonder if I would do the same.
VERY HAPPY MOMENT: For the first time ever – lights at the St Michel Orphanage!
On both Saturday and Sunday we were able to spend a couple hours each day at the St Michel Orphanage, just hanging out with kids, singing, playing, doing crafts, and teaching Bible lessons. Honestly, that entire time was filled with some of the most happy, relaxing, and peaceful moments on the trip, but one stands out in particular that I wanted to share.
As most of you know, we’ve been trying to complete the most urgently needed improvements at the new orphanage facility as quickly as available funding would allow. The most recent thing, completed in just the last month, was the purchase and installation of a solar panel, a double battery pack, and the necessary equipment to run a little bit of electricity throughout the compound.
So on Saturday night we’re out there playing with the kids until well after dark (and for those of you who’ve been to Haiti you know how totally dark it gets at night, especially out in those rural areas). Once it gets to the point where we literally can’t see what we we’re doing anymore, we say goodnight to the kids and start packing up to leave. I’m not even thinking about the recently-installed solar panel, and I’m actually startled for a second when the kids walk into their bedrooms and flip the lights on – bright light fills the entire house, pouring out their bedroom windows and lighting up the entire compound. Such a contrast to all the norms in Haiti – and such a simple thing, to be able to provide a child’s room with light, but it made me so incredibly happy.
ONE LAST MEANINGFUL MOMENT: Tuesday in Birel.
On Tuesday we go out to visit the little church in the super, super remote village of Birel. This is now our third time going to Birel, the first time being last April (for those of you who remember this story, Birel is the place we prayed for rain). While we’re there a man comes up to Raymond, our interpreter for the day, and says something in Creole. Raymond then turns to us and says, “This man says he wants you to know that he remembers the first time you came, and how you talked to us about washing each other’s feet” – which was what Russell Ward had taught on our first visit in April. The man then smiles and shakes hands with each of us – I felt like it was his way of saying, “We remember you, and we pay attention to what you say.”
A GENERAL OBSERVATION: “The harvest is great, but the workers are few.”
Everywhere we went over the past 8 days, there was one common theme: The people are hungry for spiritual things. Time after time, in village after village, people would say, “Please come back and do more of this” or “Please come teach this in my church or village.” There is a massive need, and a massive desire by the Haitians, for men to come and do more teaching and training of ministers, for women to come and do ladies’ classes, and for couples to come and do marriage programs. But the truth is right now, because of what’s going on in other parts of the country, very few Americans are coming to Haiti at present. In fact, other than a few at the airport and the See Him cataract surgery team staying with us at the Guest House, we saw ZERO other Americans throughout our travels the entire week.
Over the course of the week I was repeatedly reminded of Jesus words in Matthew 9:37-38: “Behold, the fields are white unto harvest. The harvest is great, but the workers are few. Pray therefore to the Lord of the harvest, to send more workers into his fields.”
As always – many blessings to each of you, and many thanks to all of you who pray for this ministry, and who support and encourage us in so many ways.
