Category: Haiti

When I turned twenty, I was your typical former pastor’s kid living in rebellion – alcohol, clubs, bands, and a peer group nobody’s parents would approve of. Two months before my twentieth birthday, I had just ended a long term relationship – a month before we were supposed to get married.

It was rough. I remember returning home the night of my twentieth birthday after having friends visiting throughout the week. My apartment door was wide open and nobody was inside. Littered on the floor were liquor bottles and pizza boxes. It took me three trips to the shared dumpster to empty out all the trash.

Exhausted, I collapsed in my bed and cried myself to sleep.

I was alone.

I was twenty.

And I needed to grow up.

As I drifted off, I wondered what the week leading up to my thirtieth birthday would look like. Would I be married? Would I still be living in Dallas and working at an upscale internet company with an incredible salary?

Would my stupid friends be more thoughtful and not trash my apartment on my birthday?

Maybe I would take a trip to somewhere romantic when I turned thirty – like Paris or Rome or Madrid.

An exotic trip to ring in my thirties…Now that sounded like a good plan.

—

Ten years later, here I am. I turn thirty next Friday, and the last decade has been filled with a million lifetimes. I sobered up. Moved around and now live in Nashville. I got married. Lost and found my faith a few times. Became a self-employed author with state-provided health care and no stock options. I traveled to Uganda. Then the Dominican. Then India.

And because of the beautiful people I’ve met along the way, I’ve made a promise to tell the stories of people living with nothing to people living with everything.

These two contrasting worlds need to collide. Because oftentimes, we confuse what having nothing and having everything look like.

Ten years later, here I am. And I’m taking a trip for my thirtieth birthday.

But instead of some idyllic European destination, I’m headed to Haiti.

Following the recent earthquake, I felt numb.? It had been a long time since I had been angry at God, and do I dare even say doubt his sovereignty, but that’s where my heart teetered for the first week.

It seemed hopeless.

Sometimes, it still seems hopeless.

A few weeks ago, I was invited to help out in Haiti with an organization called Adventures in Missions. They’ve been on the island of Hispaniola for years and have been working through local churches there long before the earthquake.

Without a doubt, I knew I needed to go. Every obstacle in my way divinely disappeared, and I have to believe God’s been preparing me for this for a long time.

I said yes. And so I’ll be in Haiti until February 17th – just two days before my thirtieth birthday.

I realize it’s an honor to be able to serve in such a unique way, but there are bits and pieces of me that want nothing more than to stay home.

Quite honestly, I’m terrified.

If I think about it too long, or watch too much CNN, it just paralyzes me.

However, I’ve vowed that when fear, or comfort, or some other little obstacle contrary to the Kingdom pops in my head the correct response is to do the exact opposite.

Fear says, ?Haiti is dangerous. You have to take those malaria pills that make your stomach hurt and what if there?s another earthquake while you?re there? What if you get shot at? ? and Comfort says, ?You won?t have your choice of firm or soft pillows and it’s gonna smell like the rotting stench of death. You will see dead bodies. And you’ve never seen a real dead body before.?

The people of Haiti didn?t plan to have their lives destroyed a few weeks ago.

This is a whole new part of their story.

As I spoke to my friend a couple of days ago when we were working on some of the details of the trip, we realized Haiti is never going to be restored.

Haiti is going to be reborn.

It has to be.

And we all get to be a part of that story ? whether it?s by donating money or supplies or by getting on a plane at some point to help out using whatever skills you have.

I?m grateful that it?s not only Haiti?s story, and it?s not only yours and mine, either.

I have to believe that this is a story of a sovereign God who has a plan and purpose beyond anything we can imagine. And I?m grateful his breath is woven through each and every letter of each and every word of this new story as it is being written.

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(To read all Anne’s posts from Haiti, click here. You can also follow her on Twitter for updates from on the ground. The whole team can be found here on Facebook.)

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“Follow me.”

As I read through the Scriptures, whenever Jesus said “follow me” there was never any itinerary.

He never said, “Follow me, and we’ll be staying at Martha’s house. She’ll make us a killer pot roast.”

He never said, “Follow me, and I promise you won’t get sick or be hurt.”

He never said, “Follow me, and we’ll be gone for a week, come back for a few days to do laundry and get our feet washed, and then we’ll set out again for another week.”

He simply said…

“Follow me.”

Most of the time (in the situations with the disciples anyway) we are told that they left and followed Jesus. In some translations and occurrences, it even adds “without delay.”

I am a bit compulsive when it comes to planning. For our wedding, I had a twenty page guidebook for every person in the wedding, color coded for when and where they needed to be, what the layout of the church was like, and phone numbers for every vendor, and everyone else in the wedding party.

I color code my clothes in my closet and back when I had an office job, would plan out my outfits for the week, often times writing it down.

I like to plan.

Since the devastation in Haiti is so new and fresh, many logistics such as where we’ll be staying and what it will be like are only now being finalized, a few days before the trip.

The teams already on the ground (God bless them – they went into the rubble and connected with their partner churches) have been working tirelessly to find us safe shelter.

We’re working on who’s bringing what food so we are not draining what little resources the Haitians have. And I’m the weird one. The one who’s allergic to wheat, so I get to plan my own little menu.

My trip to Haiti has already been adventure, and we haven’t left the States.

It’s been an adventure in trust and reminding myself God is faithful. He’s never let me down.

Our team currently knows the basics of what we are doing there – working with pastors, distributing supplies, caring for anyone who needs to be cared for and telling the stories of what we’re experiencing. But once we get on the ground to the base we’ll know specifically what we’ll be doing. If you’ve ever been on any kind of serious trip – especially one in a disaster relief area, you know flexibility is key because things change constantly.

You can’t plan providential, healing moments.

You can only show up and allow God to work through you in that very moment.

Is the planner in me freaking out?

A little bit.

I wonder if the disciples shared in that fear – the fear of the unknown – the fear of non-specifics – when they left all they knew behind, and followed blindly trusting a Savior.

They’re human.

I’m sure they had to.

I look at their example. History was changed by twelve men who answered yes to the call of “Follow me…” whether or not they were the slightest bit afraid.

I take refuge in knowing God was in Haiti before the earthquake. He walks before us, and with us, and lays out each of our steps.

Faith and hope and love cannot be stopped. They are supernatural forces of motion that only move forward.

I have confidence in that much.

That tiny mustard seed of faith to which I cling gives me strength to remove the mountain of fear from my heart. It’s that mountain which tempts me to retreat back into The Valley of the Comfortable.

And into that valley, I must not go.

Because I know that in The Valley of the Comfortable, the voice saying “follow me…” cannot be heard.

Follow me…

“Yea, as I walk…I will fear not.”

(Or, to be quite honest with you, I’ll at least be trying.)

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Thank you so much for contributing to my Haiti trip supply needs financially.

(If you are just getting caught up – I needed $350 and within a few minutes we reached the goal and I replaced the original post with this one.)

I CANNOT express how appreciative I am for your help.

If you would like to contribute to Adventures in Missions (the organization with whom I’m going), you can click here to see our strategy for the trip and click here to donate to help provide supplies on the ground.

LOVE YOU ALL.

No, we’re not pregnant.

But my mom is posting on my blog today about her thoughts on my trip to Haiti in two weeks.

If you recall when I announced I was going, I said

“I am positive the moment my mother reads this post she will be calling me and likely ordering me to stay home.”

I said that because she cried when I went to Africa.

She cried when I went to India.

She’s my mom – and most moms aren’t thrilled when their children are put in dangerous situations.

So, without further adieu, I’d like for you to meet my mom, and hear her thoughts about me going to Haiti.

—–

Haiti.

Just thinking about all the death and destruction sends chills up my spine.

Such devastating earthquakes.

Massive graves of people.

Truck loads of bodies being dumped.

These thoughts went through my mind after all the news stories and personal accounts of what was transpiring there. It was beyond comprehension.

Then came that night.

I read all of Anne’s blogs. My day would not be complete if I didn’t check up on her. Call it…a mom’s prerogative. I try to check up on her Twitter, too, even though I don’t Twitter. I don’t blog either. No Facebook. Nothing.

But I know what my daughter’s doing.

Thanks, Internet.

I know she has a heart for people in need.

It first started with caring for animals when she was younger. Then she started doing peer counseling in the sixth grade. And in high school, she never missed a chance to serve, whether it was at our church or out with her youth group. Now, over the last few years, her trips with Compassion to Uganda and India show that she still puts feet to her words.

“Be ye doers of the Word and not hearers only.”

It didn’t really surprise me when she announced she was going to Haiti. In fact, when I told her father and her brother, they both said the same thing.

“Of course she is.”

Concerns?

Yes.

I have lots of them. I was concerned when she went to Uganda and India, too.

Prayers?

They’re always going up. It’s part of my life.

But what kind of parent would I be if I tried to limit her or place geographical boundaries on where her feet should go, and where her stories (which will shine the hope of Christ) will come from?

If I did that, I would be saying God can’t take care of her and He can’t hold her in the palm of His hand.

But…I’m still her mother.

And I will still worry about her.

But I know who holds tomorrow because I know who holds her hand, whether she’s in Nashville with friends, or Texas with me, or Haiti with the wounded, and dying, and desperate.

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Feel free to leave comments for my mom. I know she’ll be reading them, and she’ll cherish them as well as any prayers you may have to share too. I’ll even see if she’ll be open to responding. I’m sure she will as her schedule allows.