Sunday, November 14, 2010

Better is One Day

Church in Haiti is always emotional.

It's hard to pinpoint why.

All I know is there are many days when I leave the building with a headache from constantly blinking back the tears.

There are some days when I am so overwhelmed by emotion I want to run out of the room, across the yard, into my house, throw myself on my bed, and cry.

Maybe I'm moved by the beauty of the church, that we're gathered here and you're gathered there.  God's people, together, all over the world, in every culture, worshiping God.  I look around the room.  I think of my church back home. So different, and yet this day binds us together.

Everything is so different in this country.  So alive. So vibrant.  Every word in every song I've sung for years means something hard and deep to me here.  I can't get through the simplest song or a verse I've heard a thousand times without my eyes filling up with tears.

I've always prayed in church, but today we spent time praying for all of the people in our church on the front lines of serving those with cholera.  When a fourth of our congregation stood up...a fourth of them caring for cholera patients...the tears...oh the tears.  I was overcome with thankfulness, that God lets us be a part of this church body.  Zach, with Real Hope for Haiti led us in prayer for this country, begging God to intervene.

How gracious the Lord is to allow us to be around people who love God enough to risk disease, and care for people who are losing 10 liters of bodily fluid a day.  Jesus.  Washing feet.  Serving sinful man.  I was overcome with gratitude that we get to know people like this, that we get to watch them, and learn from their lives.

The prayer time was loud and ferocious.  Like thunder.  I've never heard people pray like that. But I've also never heard people praying who are watching other people die in front of their very eyes.  I've never heard people so desperate for God's mercy and deliverance from sickness and death.

There's always been singing at my churches back home, but there's nothing more moving than listening to a room full of Haitians sing I'll fly Away.

They sing it loudly.  Their hands reaching towards the sky.

Even the babies and the children.

Just a few more weary days and then...

This is when you put your face in your hands and you sob.

Because you know they mean what they sing.

And because there's nothing you want more for them, for all of us, than for Jesus to come and redeem this mess.


Kelly said...

what touching words. and they will.

The Amusing Redhead said...

You move me. I long to feel and experience God as you do.

Anonymous said...

I accidentally stumbled across your blog and have been following it for a while- thanks so much for your transparency. I have had the privilege of coming to Haiti 4 times on church work teams and thus can relate to some of the things you have been discussing and sharing.
On one of my trips I went to church with the boy that we were sponsoring at the time and had the wonderful experience of corporate out loud prayer that you were describing and I have to say I have never experienced that kind of prayer before or since that time. We take so much for granted here in America and don't truly rely on God like they do in third world countries. I am excited for what God is teaching you and your family and what you will learn in the future.
Incidentally I have friends who are missionaries in Les Cayes and have been there for 3 years. They work with teams that come in to build roofs on churches and school buildings.
Take care and keep sharing what you are learning and experiencing. May God bless you richly for your service in the kingdom!
In Christ, Marilyn

Avey said...

I love your blog, and your heart for Haiti. Reading your blog always makes me wish I lived there too. Thank you for sharing.

Marci said...

What is even worse, dear friend, is that in many (if not most) churches in America we don't have the need to sing like we mean it or pray and weep to our Father for help. Most people aren't even willing to raise their hands or walk to the alter out of pride or self-reliance. That is what makes me what to cry and run out of my church!
I am praying every day that our family can NOT survive with out the presence of the Lord!

knuscru said...

I've had so many similar experiences there. Thank you for beautifully putting this into words.

Jagette said...

What emotional words. Praying for you and your family and all the people of Haiti.

Bob & Judy said...

Ferocious prayer - what a great thing.

D.O. said...


Gretchen said...

God has used you this week to refresh my soul and remind me of what matters, I am praying for you and for Haiti during this devastating time.