I’ve sweat out the same amount of water that I’ve had to drink today.
Trust me.
There are ways of knowing this, and they involve three 16oz empty water bottles, an empty 32oz Camelback and only one small trip to a squatty potty (of which I am becoming quite skilled at mastering).
Although they only say it’s in the mid-nineties, the sun scorching my German-inherited pasty skin tells me the temperature is probably closer to six hundred and forty or so. Don’t worry, mom. (And Karen. And Gail.) My 100 SPF sunscreen is applied often.
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After the sun rose this morning, we piled into our van and drove through the city. The closer we got to the epicenter of the quake, the more and more buildings were flattened, concrete pouring onto the streets like ocean waves crashing into jetties.
It is just as devastating in person as it is on the other side of the TV screen. Except with CNN, you get quick cuts to other stories, or to Anderson Cooper’s superhuman biceps.
When you’re driving 5 mph on a gravel road, dodging piles of rebar and mounds of rubble, you’re forced to stare into each building. You notice things left behind, like office chairs and plants that by some odd force of nature, stay in their exact locations while the rest of the building fell on top of the people inside it.
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Today was Haiti’s National Day of Prayer – a day the government refused to have, but the people made it happen anyway. We visited three of the gatherings, one with six thousand people and at the President’s Palace, one with sixty thousand.
My friend Rhett and I paired up, and learned from our translator Augustave that churches never had services like these before. These people were desperate for hope, and were so thankful to simply be alive. The heat, the lack of space, the lack of toilets…nothing kept them away from being together…being grateful.
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After the prayer services, we drove into a neighborhood that had been almost completely devastated by the quake. Most people had moved into tents as everyone is terribly afraid to sleep under anything that could possibly fall on them. Even Augustave, who lost his house but none of his family or friends, confessed to sleeping under the stars every night because of his fear.
Rhett, Augustave and I wandered through a maze of rubble and tents made of sheets, gathering a crowd behind us wherever we went. We stopped to talk to a few families, including one family – a family of nine with a newborn (born outside on a cement slab, assisted only by neighbors, merely five days after the earthquake).
He showed us where their home used to be, now with walls crumbled and debris scattered. Then he showed us their new home.
This is it.
A family of nine with a newborn sleeps here.
We kept walking deeper and deeper into the tent city, more and more people following us, touching our skin; the children grabbing on to us and giggling, whispering in Creole.
We assessed this community’s needs; they hadn’t been seen by any relief teams and some had gone without food. We met with families, looked at some minor medical problems, and soon, it was time to head back to the van.
Before we could head out, a man stopped us and wanted us to meet his family.
The roads became smaller and more difficult to walk on as we were quickly taken even farther back into the tent city, the man speaking so fast in Creole our translator couldn’t translate until he finally stopped to take a breath. He was the father, maybe grandfather, of a family of twenty five who were all living in a tent, not unlike the one which housed the family of nine.
The mother and father both began talking passionately at the same time, moving their arms around wildly. Whatever they were saying didn’t sound good. They kept looking over at Rhett and me with wide eyes and determination. For the first time since arriving in Haiti, I was a little bit scared. After listening a bit longer, what I thought was anger was merely desperation.
They needed food. And medicine.
We could have spent days in this tent city, hearing people’s stories and helping them in the small ways we are able until specific teams arrive. And the thing is, there are hundreds of these cities all over Port-au-Prince.
It’s endless.
Yet as I meet more and more people — from the story of the woman in the hospital yesterday to the families of nine and twenty-five today, I realize they are no different than I am.
I think I’ve been so mistaken by believing poverty is a disease which I’ve been fortunate enough to escape, but as I’ve looked into the eyes of so many beautiful people I’ve realized that they are just like me. And I am just like them.
We love and hurt and hope. We are all rich and poor. The various ways that poverty expresses itself are the only thinsg that make us different.
While they may need more food or some way to build a home again, I have realized my need for the hope they are so rich in – the thankfulness and joy they have, even though they’ve walked deeply inside the valley of the shadow of death.
May God be with each of us as we realize our responsibility to carry each other, and our common dependence on faith.
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Please continue to pray for us — our health and strength (physical and emotional – the heat only amplifies the emotional experience of what we are seeing) — for our hands to be open and our hearts too. The needs are so great here, but I can’t express how much hope there is in the midst of it. ?If you’re interested in seeing how you can help by using your skills or donating, click here.
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Comments
26 responses to “Cities of Angels”
Thanks for continuing to share the story of how you are seeing God show up in the people of Haiti. The prayer meetings are miraculous and I pray that the spiritual warfare that exists there will give testimony to the incredible power and grace of Jesus.
Praying for that each of you will be given what you need emotionally, spiritually, and physically for the moment. Blessings.
.-= Christie?s last blog ..It?s Snowing =-.
Heart broken and praying. . .
Anne,
Great post…your words are very rich and tel a story that speaks soul to soul. I am both stirred with with hope feel overwhelmed at the challenge that will face each of us in one degree or another. It’s true…We are all Haiti and bear responsibility to safeguard the trust they will place in us for coming to help in whatever capacity possible.I hope you keep being a witness to what God is doing there…it’s important.
hope in midst of despair.
that is something i have been feeling and sensing when i pray for the people of Haiti. thank you for writing on their behalf.
praying without ceasing.
.-= Crystal Renaud?s last blog ..?No, I am Single.? =-.
Isn’t amazing how many of us have that strong hope in the most devastating of circumstances? I just pray that our hope will be fully manifested and that God’s light will flood the every dark place in our world. You continue to be in my prayers.
.-= patriciazell?s last blog ..#29 BECOMING A SON OF GOD: THE BAPTISM OF THE HOLY SPIRIT (1) =-.
I sometimes think living in the comfort of luxury (and that really is what we have) we are more depraved and poverty stricken than those who do live in poverty. What I mean is our hope, whether we admit it or not, is tide into what we have – what we own. We see no need to put our hope in Jesus because we don’t have to worry about where are next meal is going to come from. When you have nothing you can only have hope in God.
I’m reminded of these verses:
Psalm 20:7 & 8 – Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God. They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand upright.
.-= Prudence?s last blog ..Are All Good Things In The South? =-.
As always Anne, great post! Thank you for taking the time and effort to share your trip with us. We will be praying for all of you.
Thanks again………….
THANK YOU for going. Thank you for writing and for being an advocate on behalf of this forgotten nation. Thanks for using your blog for stuff that matters beyond yourself.
I’m praying for you and the team tonight. Tell Rhett I said hello and ask Lars Rood to tell you the story about the time he tried to leave us in that sketchy motel in Tyler, TX.
Praying God will use you in big ways!
Stay hydrated yo!! :)
This hit me Anne. Here I sit in my comfy home with laptop on lap and kids watching NBA stuff on tv. Why on earth is this ok? I struggle from here so I can’t imagine how you feel and how you process all of this.
Praying for all of you tonight!
Blessings,
Fran
Thank you for your honesty and narrative of the reality…spiritual and physical. Praying.
Anne,
Thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing your experience in Haiti. We lived in the Dominican Republic in 2004-2005 and ministered in many Haitian sugarcane villages. What you are seeing in Haiti (the prayer services, the search for HOPE) is nothing short of a miracle and a MOVEMENT of God! It brings goosebumps to my skin and joy to my heart. Joy – knowing God is moving and people are responding… reaching out. Yet, such heartbreak knowing what they are going through… the desperation. I’m sure you feel the conflict firsthand (joy/heartbreak). I didn’t sign up officially, but I am praying for your trip.
~Blessings~
.-= Kendra?s last blog ..Oh, The Places We’ll Go! =-.
Praying for you Anne, and the team you are with. I can’t imagine and am at a loss for words what it must be like for the people there. My tent will be on it’s way there next week.
MERCY to the people in their suffering?
thank you for ?sharing? their pain.
link…
.-= eddie broussard?s last blog ..MERCY =-.
Amazing stories. Mourn with those who mourn…. Weep with those that weep. Thanks for incarnating hope as you look into the eyes of our brothers and sisters. For we are not very different indeed– may our lives demonstrate that truth. Thanks for going and being.
thank you Anne for being there
.-= jackalopekid?s last blog ..iPad =-.
jeremiah 33:6
Hi Anne…thank you for these updates…makes this all the more real reading what you are seeing first hand. it strikes me continually that these Haitian people are amazing – the strength that they have to live each day…bless you and the team that you are with for bringing them the hope they have in Jesus and that there are people that care about them and their circumstances.
Today is my day to pray for you -even though I pray every day- and I lift you up that God protect you today- that He give you strength to endure the heat and the smells and the emotional toll that today will have on your heart…that He will guide you to where He wants you to be most effective for Him today. I will pray throughout the day and night.
Bless You!
I understand what you mean and can relate to the heat. Last year I had the opportunity to go on a mission trip to a very poor area of Costa Rica. The air was hot and the stench of the sewer overwhelming. What astounded me was in the midst of such need and poverty hope was alive in the people. We are indeed all the same no matter where we find ourselves in life. I pray God will continue to strengthen you as you work and bless the people of Haiti.
.-= Kristine McGuire?s last blog ..Coming Soon from Big Fish Ministries =-.
Thanks for the work you are doing. May God strengthen you for the work. God bless and stay safe.
100
I was stricken by this statment you made:
“I think I?ve been so mistaken by believing poverty is a disease which I?ve been fortunate enough to escape, but as I?ve looked into the eyes of so many beautiful people I?ve realized that they are just like me. And I am just like them.”
Blessed are the poor in spirit…for they shall see God.
My prayers continue for the people of Haiti and for all of you who are there to help and minister.
.-= Melinda Lancaster?s last blog ..Vanishing Act =-.
Like some others, I am at a loss for words. So glad that I found your blog. I am praying for strength for you! Thanks so much for sharing your experience.
.-= Tracy?s last blog ..Faithful Heart =-.
Great thoughts. This strikes me. “We love and hurt and hope. We are all rich and poor. The various ways that poverty expresses itself are the only things that make us different.” Something to always remember – but it hits deeper as I sit here working on an Ash Wednesday service about fasting.
I think you’re right – though many of us are “rich” we are poor in hope. We are poor in what matters.
.-= Robert?s last blog ..I?m giving up Christianity for Lent =-.
There are no words…thank you for sharing your journey, sweet friend. Praying you up daily and sending lots of love and care your way. Praying, praying, then praying some-more…
Wow. I remember when I was in Africa, the greatest realization was that we are all the same. You always think it but when you see people only on a TV screen it’s hard to relate, hard to feel. Thank you so much for reminding me of that. I love hearing about your journey, both the crests and the valleys because it reminds me of these lessons I learned on mine and am trying hard not to forget.
.-= Jacklyn?s last blog ..Weekends are for (food)lovers- For your sweetie =-.
Thanks for this post. I just shared with my boyfriend how incredible it is that tens of thousands of people gathered to give praise and thanks to God when the whole world is looking at them with pity. You are absolutely right about poverty.