Haiti Article for Church Newsletter

The week after we returned home for Haiti I was asked to write an article for the Church Newsletter.  This was to explain what we did and how our church helped and the future of our church with the Dasmas community.  I thought I would share that with my blog peeps.

“Surely the Presence of the Lord is in this Place.” This song stuck in my head as I boarded the plane to leave the tropical island of Haiti.  For weeks prior to our trip we had been bombarded by news releases, personal testimonies, and fears of our safety and health. Each one of these comments made our purpose and willingness to help all the more resolute.  Prayers poured in and support came from the most unlikely places.  We did make a difference.

 “I can feel His mighty power and His Grace.” We jumped from the back of the truck that took us over mountains, through rivers, and around a nation brimming with people.  We had arrived in Dasmas, our home for the next five days.  The people of the village greeted us to our home away from home; all wondering who were these “Blancs.”  Who were these people and what brought them to a place with no electricity and no running water?  What was their mission? Our job of showing God’s love and being the Hands and Feet began!

“I can hear the brush of Angel’s wings.” Up early every morning, the day’s work had begun.  Our jobs were set before us.  Rebuilding the roof, loving the kids, getting to know the adults, and even joining in a soccer game or two.  We became one with the community.  Regular faces greeted us each day and language was no barrier.  We were not outsiders, but regular members of the village family.  We knew them by name and they called us by name. 

“I can see glory on each face.”  I had been told the Haitians were a beautiful people; a people of strength despite all the hardships that came their way.  Truer words were never spoken.  When they smiled, their whole face lit with the joy of the moment.  Their eyes danced with the delight of the day. The children of the orphanage we visited surrounded us longing for a simple touch, an expression of love.  I’m sad to say there were not enough of us to go around even when we each had three or four children hugging/hanging on us at once, but we offered the love of Christ with all our hearts to everyone we met.  As we left, we experienced God’s glory in the faces of the little children. Reluctant to leave, but warmed by a reunion in our future.

“Surely the Presence of the Lord is in this Place.”  I long for the day when my church family can return to my family of Dasmas.  For the time when we can see the children run to us and return the pleasant smile of the preacher’s wife, who always guarded us.  I know Grace Community made a difference in the lives of the people, and I know there is so much more to give.  This is just the beginning of bringing the presence of the Lord to God’s Holy place, and I beam with pride and love to know you all had a hand it in.  Thank you, or as we say in Creole “Mési Anpil” for truly paving the way so our young adult mission team and our church could continue living as God’s great messengers in the world.

 

I got a text message from a buddy of mine this past weekend.  He went with us to Haiti, his first time out of the country.  His text said "It's kinda crazy, but I miss Haiti."  I assured him it was not crazy at all and in fact, I too missed Haiti.  It's just a place that can grab hold of you. 

Free Christmas!

This year marks the first of a new movement.  A new revolution in the Christmas spirit.  One in which we focus less on the consumerism of the holidays and more to the sustainability of the earth.  A season in which Christmas gifts are not purchased, but rather reclaimed from their deaths.  This is the genesis of "Free Christmas."

Think of it as Free Tibet meets Freecycle.  A movement to save money and to relieve the land fill of a few more permanent guest.  This year, the wife and I made a conscious effort to not buy gifts for people.  This doesn't mean we aren't giving them, but it only means the gifts we find come from the side of the road, a dumpster dive, or our own creativity, sometimes a combination of all three. 

There is no searching for the newest and brightest gadget or knick-knack to fill a quota.  It's all coming from what we find.  Now I know this is not something new to the world, but the label is new.  Free Christmas.  Next year I hope to have a logo and some more ideas on it.  I just got swept away in the lack of Christmas Holiday this year and time ran out.  Plus, we are still in the experimental stages.  We must see the reaction and ease of this new movement.  But, stay tuned in as next year we take Free Christmas from out house to our city, then to the region, then state, then the universe...or something like that.   After the new year I'll post up some more information, that way surprises aren't ruined.  Find your own Free Christmas thoughts and share them with me.

Haiti Pics

this is one of my favorites

earthquake damage

tent city, covered in dust

earthquake damage

Thanksgiving Week

Two weeks is a long time to not post.  Sorry, but it's been busy.  Mostly we have just been getting ready for our Trip to Haiti.  What, you didn't know I was going? Shame on you.  Let me tell you a little about the trip.

We left on November 19th, 2010.  We flew from Shreveport to Dallas to Miami to Port Au Prince.  We took a 4 and a half hour bus ride to our first night's lodgings- The Guest House in Les Cayes, Haiti.  We were greeted by Pumpkin Soup and Avocado.  But, not our host as he fell asleep and was unable to join us (probably a good thing).  The next morning, er, afternoon, we are on Haitian Time after all, we left to join our new family in Dasmas.

A brutal 1.5 hour ride exposed to the sun in the back of a truck with all our gear and tin for the new roof, we are in Dasmas.  For the next few days we lived in the church, ate in the church, and thrived in the community.  We gave to them and they gave to us.  But, the stories of me and Haiti could go long into the night.  I want to focus on one story, one boy who touched my heart...

His name was JLow.  He was young, I'm not sure how old to be exact, we never really exchanged any words.  It was hard to get him to talk.  He had a manor about him, he had large teeth spread in an overbite that made his chin almost disappear.  He guarded his face with his hands, either as a defense mechanism or as simply a nervous habit.  I met him when other kids his age were at school.  This could mean he wasn't one of the lucky ones able to attend the local school.  This could be because of no interest in education, but more than likely no money.  JLow was obviously a simple and loving child, smiling at the big white people that had come to his village.  But JLow's family was poor, even for Haitian standards.


We first met him at the well. Dasmas is considered fortunate becuase they have a deep water well, which means clean, free, and easily accesible water for the communities all around.  We met him at the well as he was sent to fetch water...for what we don't know, but water being the breath of life, we are assured this was one of many trips of his today.  He had two old antifreeze tubs.  They were worn with use, but perfectly acceptible to fill with water.  We walked to the well to fill our bucket and he eargly let us cut in line and he served us by pumping the water for our needs.  That's when we saw them.  His pants, blue jeans shorts ripped in the front below the crotch and all the way down the leg, ripped in the back at the belt loop, all the way down the leg.  He had no underwear, his hiney exposed to the world.  Where there should have been two leg holes, in place was three flaps of fabric, at the mercy of the wind.  Did this discourage him, no.  Did it make him hide his head in shame, no.  What it did do is call out to us for to be the hands and feet.


We guided him back to the church where our belongs were located.  He tentatively clutched a hand and started walking.  He ear to ear smile faded as three of us, three white people lead him to the back room of the church.  There we had to local translators to help us.  This, however, did not seem to relax JLow any.  For his once shining and smiling face was replaced with a down trodden and scared look.  His eyes no longer met ours, and his feet barely shuffled the floor.  Resistance was in each of his heart beats. 


We found for him a new shirt and a new pair of shorts.  The shirt too big and the shorts had to be cinched tight to fit.  But, he had clothes that covered and clothes that he could grow into.  Still with a sad and defeated face he left, his old clothes in his mouth, and a water bottle each hand.  Head down, he walked back home.  My thoughts of our good dead were over shadowed by the seemingly emotional harm we had inflicted upon this beautiful child.  The image of his face as he walked away, with his eyes missing the joy they once had, weighed my heart to the ground.  It was now my turn to turn and shuffle away in sadness.


I questioned our motives, our abilities, our insistence to meddle in places oft left alone.  I guarded my self from other attempts for fear of irrevocable damaging another child's or adult's persona.  And I bowed my head and continued to work.  JLow stuck in my mind that day.


Toward the end of the day, when both sets of schools had let out.  When the sun started to dip behind the banana trees bringing with it the days first respite from the heat, people started to emerge.  They came out, young and old, to watch what these new additions to the villiage were doing and how they were progessing.  This usually involved sitting around, talking, maybe a pick-up game of soccer.  All this in the field by the school.  Inevitabley a game of chase with the younger kids woulds start. It goes to show from sea to shining sea chase is still chase and kids are still kids.  As I was picking up the tools used earlier, something caught my eye.  It was JLow, in his old ragged shirt, that fit him, and in his new shorts that were still big, but covered everything.  He was playing with kids from the school.  Playing with his new friends.  They were playing chase and running around.  His smile had returned, and as he ran his heart out, trying to dodge and weave his was around, his pant fell.  His little, black booty was bare and exposed as he ran at top speed from his friends.  But, he was happy!  His face was back, his eyes danced, and his smile shown brighter that before.  He found the confidence of new clothes and we found the grateful heart of a child.  One of the adults retied the pants ensuring no more slips ups as he ran, and he was off again.  Nothing could stop him now. 

He was my favorite story of Haiti.  His story is why I travel to places like that.  His story is why I fight the odds of cholera, rebels, and a host of other dangers and worries.  His story is why my mother doesn't sleep at night.  Is it it worth it?  Every damn time!

Paradigm Shift

There's been a change in the method of seminars, meetings, and general cell phone etiquette.  I guess the first change is that we no longer have cell phones.  We are all proud owners of smart phones (except for those small number of holdouts-those for financial reasons and those not wanting to "conform" to the modern mass communication).  These hand-held computers which brings to our fingertips email, weather, games, text messages, and the every important argument ender with the ability to "google it" using the web browsing capability.  And there is even a phone, if you ever find it necessary to actually verbally communicate with another...although now, it's mostly automated responses at the other end of the line.  This complex, yet user friendly gadget has also changed the way meetings happen.

The beginning of all meetings usually start the same way.  The one delegated person stands before the crowd with list of housekeeping, schedules for the day, and always says "please make sure to silence your cell phones."  The underlying message being don't let that thing ring while I or anyone else is talking, and in fact, why don't you just put that away...I don't want to see it out." God forbid if you slip your phone, noiselessly, out of your pocket to check for any recent texts, emails, or even the time; cause when you do the oppressive eyes of disapproval burn holes in you as you avoid eye contact.  But so much has changed with these smart phones.

For example, today, I attended a seminar by Brian McLaren hosted by the Christian Leadership Center.  It was quite a good seminar with some great emerging ideas and mind boggling concepts.  But, the great paradigm shift I noticed was the use of the smart phone.  Through online media sites like Facebook and Twitter, these smart phones linked those in the seminar together and those who couldn't be there in the community of this religious leader's encouraging words.  A one point, an announcement was made on how to link all the tweets together under one search chain, thus allowing everyone to see what others were saying at the time they were saying them.  This was a great way of emphasising important comments spoken by the speaker.  Little bits of wisdom left like bread crumbs for those outside the doors to follow to a sense of movement and purpose in the emerging church.  Pretty cool use of the new ways.  The thread can be accessed at this Twitter Link.

I thought about this as I was at a table with five or so people who are from the era of black and white TVs, rotary phones, and homes with less than one computer. As I followed along with these tweets, that were definitely enhancing my seminar experience, I felt the self conscience of wondering if these folks thought I was not participating, but rather being off task.

That's when I realized a mostly generational shift in the way things are done.  I find the evolution to be quite interesting.  I am getting to that age when I have years of experience behind me and I can (and have, I hate to admit) been able to engage in conversations of life pre cell phone, pre internet.  But, I will do my best to stay on the cutting edge of what's happening.  I figure if my octogenarian granny (love you) can be a fore runner of technological advancement, shouldn't I at least give her a run for her money? So, I submit this as but one of many paradigms to change in the near future, I'll keep my eye out and let you know about the next one.

So, I've bitten the bullet, grabbed the bull by the horns, thrown caution to the wind, stepped up to the plate, and many many more cliches.  I don't know what possessed me, or what I'm trying to prove.  I do know that I am crazy and have to dig deep within myself to see this through to the end.  However, with prayer, dedication, and the right kind of postive reinforcement, I will succeed.  Yep, I will succeed.

So, on Halloween night, I asked myself "Trick or Treat."  Apparently I decided on Trick.  I signed up for the Mardi Gras Marathon.  That's 26.2 miles of running through the historic streets of New Orleans.  26.2 miles of second guessing myself, wincing through the pain, and breaking through the wall.  26.2 miles of sweat, blood, and tears, 26.2 miles long to prove to  myself I can overtake the obstacles of life.  I'm pretty excited about it...scared too, but excited.

I know my body will be ready, as the training has been going on for 4 weeks now, but the hardest part will be training my mind and settling in to a diet/nutrition routine.  Today was a 10 mile day, it was rough, but we finished with no problems.  So keep the prayers up for me (and Eliz who will be running the half marathon-13.1 miles) as this unfolds. 

A flash back to the 1980s, The Lite Brite, has made an appearance in The David Crowder Band's newest video, SMS Shine.  It's a tear jerker, so be warned.

I heard and interview with him today that said they used something like 700,000 of those little lights to make this stop motion video.  He recruited multiple members of his church to help with this project.  Imagine the amount of for thought and planning that went in to this video.  It's well worth watching at least twice.

The stress is pouring in.  It's starting to fill up and is taking my positive attitude with it.  I just found out a video project I am working on is due a week EARLIER than I had expected.  We were going to be pushing it close with the extra week, now, it will be some long nights ahead.  Too much juggling with peoples schedules. 

Also learned today I have the wonderful opportunity to cover someone Else's territory while they go on Vacation.  But, do they get to cover mine when I go on vacation, do they ever step foot in Louisiana?  That's a great big, resounding no.  And guess how much extra I am compensated for that....a whole lot of nada. 

That's OK (get ready for positive spin).  At least my stress will decrease and I can spread it out over a couple of weeks instead of having all come to head on one day.  Whooo Flipping Hooo.  Looks like that bike will not be done any time soon. 

I got work to do, I'm out.

Oops I pulled a Mike!

From what I have been told, and the little bit I have seen, my Uncle Mike has a propensity to take things apart.  Getting them back together again is a different story.  He usually succeeds in this endeavor...my track record is not as stellar.  But this never keeps me from trying.

Elizabeth and I have recently come in the possession of a tandem bike.  I 1970s Schwinn, Red Tandem Bike.  It is a pretty amazing little mode of transportation.  But, it has been sitting in someone's house for a long time, so it is full up on gunk, dirt, and what I can only hope is not cat feces.  So it needs a little work.  What am I to do? 

I took it completely apart.  Over  couple of days I broke it down into as many pieces as I could.  My plan is to fix it up, piece by piece.  That way eventually Eliz and I can be known as that cute couple riding around on the shiny red Schwinn.  Ultimately we plan on throwing a Seersucker Social (idea total ripped off of a D.C. group) here in town.  Tell me how cute would we be in seersucker and on a tandem. 

The problem comes in the pieces.  I hope I have the ability to put it back together again.  Uncle Mike almost always could, so if I mess it up, he's the one I'm calling to fix it up.  Shh, don't tell him, I want to keep it a surprise. 

This bad boy bike has front and rear chrome fenders a sweet chain guard, and original two-toned fake leather seats.  It weighs about 45 pounds and is a beast, but will be fun to put together. 

Also, for an idea of the Seersucker Social we are going to attempt to recreate, check out this video.


The Seersucker Social from ReadysetDC on Vimeo.

There is no honor there. None to be seen or won.  None to be earned or bartered, none at all.  I look to you not as the victor, but with pity as one who is missing the essence of self.  You may prance around with a smile on your face and a flare in you eye, but the truth of the matter is you are hollow.  You scratch the surface of a man with no honor and see the real vestibules of fear and insecurity.  And for that, you sir, are nothing to me. 

Where is the integrity? Where is the trust?  Why do we live in fear of another man? Though I've never lived the times of white picket fences, unlocked doors, and pies cooling on the window, I lament the loss of this era.  Replaced now by pit bulls, bars on windows, and refusals to share, even a buck.  I myself am both guilty and convicted.  I look at myself and wonder where has the integrity gone.  What are my expectations and intentions or better yet my responsibilities?


(my notes:  first paragraph was in reference to a soccer game I played tonight.  I came away with a bum knee, a loss of respect, two goals, and a huge loss for the records-about par for the course with this place.  The second paragraph is what I affectionately call verbal expulsion...I know not why or how)