I have been wrestling with this blog for what feels like forever. What's even better is I started this blog weeks ago, thought I saved my work, but apparently didn't. It was at least five paragraphs of thoughts all disorganized on a page, and now I'm hoping that while I'm writing this I'll be able to recall what is important.
At this very moment, my heart feels overwhelmed with passion for the orphaned. I'm reading a book entitled Kisses from Katie- if you haven't read it, I dare you to. It'll challenge your soul in the most beautiful of ways, as it is mine right now. What I'm learning will be reflected in these thoughts I'm having, and I'm hoping to articulate them well.
Often I struggle because I'm a problem solver. I can walk into a situation and immediately sniff out where things could be improved upon, and often times this gets me into a bit of trouble with myself. When I come to Haiti, my body aches with all the depravity present. What troubles me most is that I can't do much about it. I've come to the conclusion that Haiti needs to help Haiti before any outside aid or foreigner can make any substantial difference here. However, what I can do is love. I can love one individual at a time and hope that my love represents Christ's love in some way or fashion, and hope that someone's life will be better off after we encounter. Love relentlessly. It's written on my foot, but sometimes I haven't the slightest idea of what it means. I'm still learning and growing in accepting a love that is relentless, and thus being able to love more relentlessly. For about two weeks I was taunted by the lie that I am nothing of significance- something I feel far too often. I entertained that thought and allowed it to get the best of me, and I was struggling for at least two weeks with the feeling of worthlessness. I had a stream of nightmares for about four days within first coming to Haiti. Now I feel more free, though the thoughts still linger from time to time. I am at times so full of hope; so much joy that I can hardly keep it inside, and I must remain strong in my armor against thoughts that would deter me from why I'm here this summer.
When I first decided that I was going to Haiti for the summer, I chose the longest amount of time possible- three months, otherwise I'd have to apply for a visa. I thought to myself, "what a bold move, what a servant." Being here for just a month and a half, I'm recognizing that I'm not even scratching the surface with what my heart desires to learn and attain. However, I'm learning to alter what it is my heart desires. I naturally want things to be fixed, harmonious, but Haiti will not ever be that. The world will not ever be that until Christ returns, and until then, I am called to love. Three months may seem like a long time, but it, in fact, is nothing. I have been brought to my knees in humility and desire to be here longer.
Words that have been haunting me since my second day here at New Life came from a man I barely knew, but he seemed to know me better than anyone ever has within just five minutes of meeting me. He picked up on the fact that I fear to lead. He noticed that I carry a humor that I'm afraid to share- only when I'm immensely comfortable. He asked me what I want to do with my life, and when I told him I wanted to pursue a Master's degree in Marriage & Family Therapy to potentially become an Adoption Counselor, he told me he feels I'm selling myself short and to pray more about how God would use me. "Don't squander your gifts", he said. Every day of the week here at New Life, the staff and interns meet at 4pm to worship, pray, learn Kreyol, and talk about our days together. Yesterday I shared how much I truly fear and worry, though only my closest friends know how deep my fears usually go. Every day I wake up and fear that I did something or will do something to make someone mad- so mad that they will leave me behind because of irreconcilable differences. Why do I fear this so deeply? It's something I'm still figuring out, even though I have a few ideas about where it comes from. Regardless of the validity, I know for a fact that I squander my gifts, and it is in no way allowed to be an excuse for not living out the love as unconditionally as I can.
I watched a man I was very close with growing up destroy an organization and much more because his leadership position had been taken out of hand. I watched him deny himself the true beauty of God because he became so obsessed with his own vision. He lost touch with God. He walked a dark, scary road that I fear so deeply to walk upon. This man had the natural ability to lead like no other human I've ever met, and I admired him immensely. However, the intense cry of our flesh is so tempting, and he fell so hard that he couldn't get back up. He stayed in that place for a very long time and it cost him damn near everything. When I was about 12, I started picking up on characteristics of mine that were almost identical to this man's. And when I started observing how his actions were affecting others in such an awful way, I tried everything in my power to be anything but him- still to this day. I fear that if I take on leadership roles, like I know I can and was designed to do, I'll screw up as badly as he did because I know the cry of my own flesh. I know man's desire to be in power. I know my desire to knock others down to become stronger, better, wiser- so opposite of Christ. I can feel those desires flowing through my veins as I watch these words flow onto this computer screen. I fear my own flesh.
I have this deep and undeniable passion for the poorest of the poor. It is so strong that it moves me to tears almost immediately when I think about it. Sometimes when we drive through the streets of Haiti, I am so overcome with feelings that I don't always know how to process or compartmentalize them. I desire to take care of people- that's it. When people ask me what I want to do with my life, I get a lump in my throat because I have no idea what I'm going to say. Recently, I've been repeating this Marriage & Family Therapy thing in hopes to become and Adoption Counselor- but when I say it out loud, sometimes my heart doesn't feel complete. When I'm talking to someone who is hurt, giving advice to someone who's confiding in me, or holding a child in need of affection, words don't describe the adrenaline that flows through my veins. If I could have my way, I'd be in Haiti for however long God would want me. When I entertain this idea, I can feel the enemy telling me, "All you know how to do is love. You're worthless." And sometimes I believe it. I have vivid memories from kindergarten of feeling such joy from helping people solve problems and comforting them. You wouldn't believe it, but some kids in my kindergarten class actually came to me with problems. Problems of a kindergartner, but regardless, it's always been an attribute of mine to want to help and care for those in need. That quality has grown with me as I've gotten older, and as a 21 year old adult, I wonder what that looks like for me as I prepare to graduate. All I want to do is move here after I graduate. In fact, though I only have one semester left until I graduate, I think about what it would look like for me to stay here and not go back to school. I think about it almost daily.
Something I caught myself doing a couple weeks ago when we went to different orphanages in Port au Prince is almost shameful for me to write down for others, anyone who reads my blog to see. I caught myself not wanting to look at the children directly in their eyes for fear of feeling overcome with conviction to save them, because I know I can't save them all, at least not right now. God is in control of saving the world, and while I recklessly struggle with trusting that, I will choose to love all whom I encounter. The love of Christ should reek off my body through my words and my actions. My relationship with Him should become so dear that I am deeply aware of His presence. As I become closer to Him, all of the fears I feel daily will subside because all I need is Him. A friend here has taught me, and we are learning together, that the things of this world do not matter, they will not last. The less I have, the more we have to depend on God. I find myself envious of the poor I've encountered because they have a relentless love and dependency on God that I so deeply desire. As I let go of the things and fears of this world, I'll get one step closer to what it means to live out His call for my life.
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