Haiti, my friends, is a country full of joy and pain. Its people are strong in spirit and weak in power. A legacy of betrayal, corruption and need take, like a thief in the night, the grace that begs to be found.
I don’t understand why people have to suffer to live. I can’t understand why those who try to make a difference for the better are found lying in their own blood. I will never understand why millions of dollars that were raised to help have never made it to the people who need it the most.
16 months after my last trip, I found this country in no better condition. I found its people working hard, very hard just to exist.
I am realistic enough to realize that a one week mission trip creates more of an impact in my own heart and life than it does for those I seek to encounter. Experience has taught me that seven short days can upend my world to a point of no return.
Still, I beg that what little I gave can be found in one heart.
This trip was a celebration of a school completed where one only existed in trees and tarps. Where red clay dirt clung like barnacles on all it touched. Where children learn and futures are pondered.
Dare I hope that a new building will harbor new dreams? Dare I believe that one day a child who sits in this new building will bring a new and better future to Haiti?
Yes, my friends, I dare to believe and hope. For I know that the God who moved people here in Maryland to build a school on top of a mountain in Haiti is the God who can change the heart and future of one small child and one hurting nation.