High Points and Low Points

For those of you who know both John and me, you know that we are an unusual couple in that John has more words than I do (and I do have quite a few words).  For most couples, it is the woman who talks more.  Not so for us and as you’ve noticed, the same goes for blogging.  John’s way of processing has been to get all of his thoughts in print as soon as possible.  For me, I’ve been processing in my heart and mind these past 16 days, but since our tag line is chronicling a family’s journey of ministry and with God in the island nation of Haiti, I decided that it was time for me to chime in. 

Every night, we all sit together before bedtime and we each share our high point and low point of the day.  We've discovered that this simple ritual allows us to process what is going on in and around us.  This morning I want to share my high point from yesterday.  My high point was that I drove all by myself! 

Now for those of you in North America, you might not understand why this was a big deal for me.  I've never been a timid driver.  I drive an hour to my teaching job three times per week and have no problem driving downtown Toronto.  When I started driving at the age of 16, it was on a standard vehicle so I was not concerned that the vehicle we would drive in Haiti would be a standard.  Even if you haven't driven a standard for many years, you are able to do it again very easily, just like riding a bike.  Besides, just this past January, I sold my Honda Civic that I had driven for a year and it was a standard.  I wasn't even concerned that the vehicle is large (a Nissan Patrol SUV – a very necessary type of vehicle for driving in Haiti.) 

Basically, driving here is like a giant game of ‘chicken’.  The rules of the road are different.  Since I've only seen two stop lights in this city and one stop sign that virtually gets ignored, I've discovered that you need to be assertive, use your horn and just enter into traffic and vehicles will let you in.  There’s no road rage involved.  It’s a courtesy that driver’s provide for each other unless you are a tap tap driver (public transportation).  

I actually saw a tap tap go on the opposite sidewalk to get around a traffic jam.  Sometimes as you’re about to turn, a motorcycle will come from out of nowhere and pass you on the left as you’re signaling to make a left hand turn.  Although there are double yellow lines in the middle of many streets, vehicles cross over it. There are times that I’m too patient while waiting in traffic and vehicles pull around me even when there are large trucks in the oncoming traffic.  The main roads are paved, however the side streets have many ruts and bumps and rocks which have mostly been formed from rainfall carving its way through the streets. 

I had driven a few times and decided that yesterday was the day to go for it alone so that I will have the freedom to go places and do things!

After taking five minutes to unlock all the doors and gates (I’ll have to start earlier next time), the boys and I were heading down our street on our way to school.  My first stop was to pick up a neighbourhood boy who we are carpooling with.  As I turned down his street, I noticed a rather large pile of garbage, some of it partially burned, just sitting along the side of the road (a common sight).  When Jayden hopped in the vehicle, he commented that he did not like that garbage on his road.  As I turned my vehicle around, I needed to watch out for the family of goats that was getting close to my Patrol.  We got to the corner that I was concerned about and there were four vehicles ahead of me which meant I would definitely be using my emergency brake to stop me from sliding backward on this steep incline.  Did I mention that it is very hilly here?  

Since there are few street names displayed, I have learned which landmarks to look for to find my way to the boy’s school, so I kept my eyes peeled for what used to be a tennis court where I would turn left and know that I was on the right road when I saw the man on the side of the road crushing rocks (a gravel maker).  I turned right around a deep ravine (again filled with garbage), then left at the Jerusalem school, past several street stands selling coke, avocados, mangoes etc, and finally arrived at the purple gates where security guards let me drive inside the gated grounds of Quisqueya Christian School. 

The first few days, the word that kept coming to me was ‘chaos’.  Now I realize that although it feels like chaos when you are out on the road, it actually works, but it is really important to be aware of what is going on all around you. 

There is a metalwork sign in our kitchen that reads “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”  It is a beautiful reminder to me each and every day as I venture out in the simple and the the more challenging tasks of life here in Haiti. 

Please pray for our safety as we ‘hit the road’.     

Singing in Seminary?

The last time I wrote, I shared my enthusiasm for two courses I was to teach on Thursday -- on the Pentateuch and the Gospels -- for what is the seminary of the Christian Reformed Church of Haiti (E.C.R.H. Eglise Chretienne Reforme en Haiti).  I was excited enough to write a blog account that night but unfortunately -- I think it was something I ate - I came down with a pretty all-consuming gut-head-full-body ache right after the sessions and that has kept me away from my blog as I have scurried back and forth from bed to bathroom.  Till now.  And I promise that is the last time I will share the woes of a bathroom related illness, though I suspect it won't be the last time I experience it :(

Anyway, the classes were a true joy.  It was an incredible honour to have the undivided attention of 23 pastors and other church leaders as they asked keen and probing questions -- all through a translator -- in their pursuit of learning.  I was in awe that many of them work full-time jobs elsewhere, trying to squeeze in sermon writing and pastoral visiting in the wee hours and in between times.  There were young and old, men and women, but what they held in common was a humble and hard-working stewardship of their role as pastors.

During the morning course on the Pentateuch -- the first five books of the Bible -- I was teaching on the covenants God makes with us and showing how most of them are God making promises to us without conditions.  I shared how this is one of the main themes of the Pentateuch, that God initiates the relationship with us long before we are even able to obey his commands.  Trying to be sparing in North American illustrations, I ventured out and shared how we in the Christian Reformed Church in North America have a hymn with the lines, "I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew: he moved my soul to seek him seeking me..." a musical celebration of God initiating the relationship.  One curious student ventured the question: "Could you sing it for us?"

And so there I was, singing Psalter Hymnal #498 in English to a class of Haitian pastors and church leaders.  What they did next, though, moved me in a way that was unforgettable and beautiful.  In fact, wanting to share it with you, I asked them to repeat it so that you could enjoy it too:

It was an incredible joy to hear them sing and see their sincerity of heart as they slowly belted it out.  The austere concrete room echoed their harmony in a way the video couldn't quite capture, but it was truly a thing of beauty.  What especially struck me, here, a few thousand kilometers away from home, was how these brothers and sisters not only held the same beliefs as me, but echoed them out with the same songs.  It simultaneously made me feel at home, and gave me a taste of heaven, which is my true home.

Geeked!

Ok, maybe most normal people wouldn't get excited about dressing up in a tie on a 45 degree (celcius, north of 100 in Fahrenhuit) day to spend seven hours giving lectures on the nature of the Pentateuch and the Gospels, but, I am a ministry geek, and so I am geeked!

Tomorrow, from 8:00 am until 4:00 pm, I will be at the denominational headquarters (refer to earlier blog entitled "Haiti's 2850, sort of") teaching these courses.  Over the past two weeks, in between unpacking and learning to drive and shop and count my money in Haitian Gourdes, I have been poring over my seminary and bible college notes and creating two workshops which I will teach tomorrow (through an interpreter) to 21 pastors and church leaders from the ECRH.

Here's me in one of the offices here, eagerly typing away in anticipation of the courses I will teach.  Notice the large floor fan, it is on full blast but not quite keeping up with my bodies capacity to produce moisture.  If I had hair, it would be blowing.  

I started writing the courses by taking Zachary and Sharon Segaar-King's notes (all in Creole) and plugging them into Google Autotranslate to produce a rough outline of what I should teach on.  Then, I scoured the 100's of pages of seminary and Bible college notes so wonderfully scanned into PDFs for me by Tammy Prince and Mary VanderMunnik before I left the church we shared in Cambridge (what an awesome gift that is turning out to be -- thanks SO much!)  Finally, today at three, I pressed "print" and now have about 20 pages of notes which my translator, Kerby, will speak into Creole for me tomorrow.  

I can't wait to learn and teach and share the day with these pastors and church leaders from all over Haiti.  I am eager to be a small part of what God is doing here.  The Pentateuch course in the morning will be a teaching of the first five books of the Bible, what they mean, what they reveal about God, how to interpret them, how they fit in the rest of Scripture, and so on.  We will review God's holiness, mercy, power, covenantal love, and the many different natures of the law and how it is to be interpreted today.  I am eager to hear stories from the participants about how these books apply in their context and how I can be of service to them in the future.  The course of the Gospels will compare and contrast the four Gospels -- Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John -- noting their essential unity but unique emphases.  Sprinked throughout all of this will be a host of teaching about methods of interpretation.  

I also look forward to sharing with you -- in pictures and hopefully by video -- how the day went.  Join me by praying for me to rest well tonight, have a clear throat (having a fan on all the time is messing with my sinuses and throat :() and that the teaching tomorrow will be well received and helpful.  

I am geeked!

Haiti's 2850, sort of

In the denomination of which I am a part - the Christian Reformed Church in North America (www.crcna.org), our denominational head office is located in Grand Rapids, Michigan, at the corner of Kalamazoo Avenue and 28th Street.  It's address, until this year when they realized the front door wasn't on Kalamazoo any more, for decades had been '2850 Kalamazoo.'  Around the denomination, whenever people referred to the head office, they often simply called it '2850.'

The Christian Reformed Church of Haiti -- ECRH (Eglise Chretienne Reformee d'Haiti) -- has it's offices on a 3-acre compound it shares with two other ministries:  PRIHA (Perspectives Reformee Internationale d'Haiti) which is essentially the Back to God Ministries radio and print ministry; and MDK (Ministi pou Devlopment Kretyen)(Haitian Creyol Spelling :)) which is a leadership development ministry for leaders in local Christian congregations.  Those of you who know that I am working on my Doctorate in Ministry at Tyndale on the subject of developing leaders in local congregations can guess how my heart was all aflutter when I met with MDK.

On Thursday morning, Jacky Chery, who is the Director of PRIHA, took me for a tour.  We arrived at the outer gate and beeped the horn.  Whereas at 2850, visitors have the luxury of simply turning in the parking lot, here in Haiti, everything is behind a locked, barbed gate.  After a brief wait of ten minutes or so, the security guard -- whose other duties could include anything else on the grounds -- arrived at the gate to welcome us in.  The security guard is paid a salary and is given a home inside the gate so that he can be on the grounds 24/7.  It seems the guard's duties, when we interrupted him to open the gate, were to stand in the shade with two other men having a conversation.  At first blush, this may have looked to a foreigner like me as sloth until I realized whom he had been talking to:  the newly elected Executive Director of the ECRH and the outgoing Executive Director of the ECRH!  In CRCNA language, it was as if he was talking to Dr. Steve Timmermans and Rev. Joel Boot.  It was a great first window into something healthy about the Christian Reformed here, to see these two influential men take the time to simply hang out in the shade with the security guard.

It reminded me of an incident we had during the week of our orientation with Christian Reformed World Missions in Grand Rapids at 2850 in July.  On Wednesday the 9th, there was a semi-final game in the FIFA World Cup -- the Netherlands vs Argentina.  Since the game was at the end of the orientation day, television screens were set up for us orientees and we were welcome to watch the game.  A few staff from head office joined us, including one friendly gentleman who sat beside my boys and shared orange and blue M&Ms with them.  After the game, I asked the boys if they knew who that man was who had shared candy and joked and cheered with them.  They didn't.  When I told them that it was Dr. Steve Timmermans, the Executive Director of our 250,000 member denomination, they replied, "whoa."  This Thursday, when I realized that the security guard here in Haiti was hanging out in the shade with the denominational executives, I had the same sense of "whoa!"

Offices of ECRH and PRIHA -- Denominational Head Quarters and Radio Broadcast Ministry 

                 
Jacky Chery, the PRIHA Director, brought me into his offices and shared with me the work they are doing.  Working with local radio stations across the country, they had been broadcasting basic Christian discipleship messages from Back to God Ministries International's Rev. Paul Mpindi - in French, not Creole - on a daily basis.  However, since this past March, when Rev. Mpindi ended his radio ministry, they do not have new broadcasts to send.  There is some value in replaying old messages, which is what they are doing now, but Jacky looks forward to whenever new broadcasts are made available.  PRIHA also has a print ministry, sending discipleship lessons across the country and having volunteers work with new Christians to help them learn the basics of the Christian faith.  Using three series of twelve lessons, they have worked with thousands of new Christians in increasing their understanding of the Gospel message and deepening their relationship with God.  However, earlier this year, PRIHA became aware that they didn't actually have permission from the North American publisher to distribute the literature and so they were ordered to stop using it immediately.  They are being asked to destroy whatever unused copies they have of the curriculum and to not mark the completed lessons they have received from around the country or to give specific feedback to the students.  While I appreciate the need for publishers of material to control how their material is used -- especially when their name printed right on it -- it was heartbreaking to see a cabinet full of completed lessons which will never be marked or responded to.

Bible Lessons Which Will Never Be Responded To

This scenario at once represents the integrity of PRIHA - honouring the request from the North American publisher - but also PRIHA's challenge.  Right now, they are reduced to simply following up, one-on-one, with students but without referring to the materials.  Their need now is to produce new materials that are different enough from their previous materials that they can be clear they are not copying or pirating another's work.

The tour ended with a good hour meeting with the Director of MDK, Lemete Zefire.  MDK, like I said earlier, is a leadership development program, something I am enthusiastic about as I am working on a thesis on leadership development.  Lemete is a pastor, having been at the same church for the last 29 years.  He has been leading MDK, as well, for the past 14.  As he spoke about his passion for things I am passionate about -- learning being practical, the work of the Holy Spirit, prayer, collaboration, crossing denominational lines, humility, and leadership development starting in the heart -- I sensed that there would be a lot to learn from this man.  He also reminded me, by his calm and wise spirit, of a good friend -- Andrew Beunk, and so I was simply drawn to him.  But it wasn't until he took me on a tour of MDK's facility that I was truly inspired.  First, he showed me the almost-completed training hall which should be done in October and will hold 150 students.  Then he showed me the next phase, an outside area which would constructed into a reception and office area by my good friend Clare Streutker and teams in January and February.

Imagine 150 Elders, Deacons, and Pastors gathering for training!

This area outside will be transformed by Clare Streutker and teams from Cambridge, Brampton, New York, and Woodland Christian High into a reception area and offices to serve this dynamic grass-roots practical Christian leader training center.  

I look forward, over the year, to getting to know these staff and seeing how their work takes shape.  Not only will I get to see a physical building take shape through the effort and sacrifice of others, but I will be able to see leaders develop and through that to watch God strengthen his church for their incredible and difficult task of Gospel transformation in this place which cries out for love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, gentleness, and self-control.

Contrast

Contrast.  

Black and white.  Hot and cold.  Dull and sharp.  Light and heavy.  Bougainvillea and barbed wire.  

Haiti, as this view from our front door suggests, is a place of contrasts.  

It is a place of beauty.  Natural beauty.  It is, after all, on a tropical island.  Palm trees, mountains, hot sticky temperatures, welcome rain, geckos, wild dogs, tarantulas, softball-size avocados and even bigger mangos.  Haiti, to our untrained eyes, is also a place of scars.  The earth is scarred by deforestation and rampant urbanization, and of course, earthquakes and hurricanes.  The roads are a combination of dirt, rocks, and construction scrabble, unless, oddly, they are paved.  Then, they are simply plugged with traffic, each vehicle sitting prey for predatory window-washers or bumper-cleaners or worse.  While some, including we North American missionaries, live in safe and comfortable homes with electricity back-up systems for the 12 or more hours a day there is no electricity, most do not live with such luxury.  

Yesterday, I went with Zachary (Zachary King and his wife Sharon are the missionaries whose work I will be doing and in whose home we will be living) to the veterinarian to have his two dogs get their annual shots.  Angel and Pearl are the names Zach's young daughter gave to them: one a pure white German shepherd mix and the other a big black Bull Mastiff/Great Dane mix with a small white patch - resembling a pearl - on the front of her neck.  As we walked with these two intimidating (but very friendly) dogs on leashes across a bridge to the veterinarian in Petionville, I looked out from the bridge.  There was a dry gulch, a wide empty river basin, teeming with garbage where the water should be.  I learned that this and many others around the city are dry most of the time, except during rainy season, when they turn into rivers.  

It was with this bizarre news of this on-again, off-again river that I noticed, perched along the side of the trash-strewn ditch, a family, huddled under a tarp with six goats.  I imagined, much like we do when we go to the mall and watch strangers and wonder what their lives might be like, I imagined what this family's life must be like.  Normally, they lived along a garbage dump, visible to but likely disconnected to all of their "neighbours."  But part(s) of the year, when their tarp wasn't holding back sun or rain, they would be living alongside a raging river, possibly sweeping away their goats.  It struck me that their goats were not pets, but their livelihood.  And it struck me that their goats have probably never had an ounce or an HTG (Haitian Gourde, the standard currency here) of care.  And it struck me as an unfair contrast that I, as a missionary, was the one walking a dog to the vet, a contrast that seemed, at first blush to simply be wrong. 

However, I got to thinking in larger terms and the overall work of which I am a small part.  I am thankful that I can be part of a team that is trying to make a lasting difference here in Haiti -- "Sous Espwa" (Haitian Creole for "Source of Hope").  Sous Espwa is the name of the consolidated effort of BTGMI (Back to God Ministries International, here called PRIHA), World Renew, and Christian Reformed World Missions (CRWM).  While I am technically a staff member of CRWM (hence the nifty logo on my blog here :), I am part of this larger team called Sous Espwa.  For over three decades we have not only been broadcasting messages of hope but teaching locally and backing that up with actions of sustainable development.  Sous Espwa has affected many communities helping hundreds if not thousands of families just like that family perched along the drainage ditch with their six goats. We have supplied goats, latrines, training, and many forms of support. 

If you have given to the ministry we are doing, if you have prayed, if you have encouraged us in any way, please know that you are making a difference for people who live "on the edge" helping them to pass on a future for their children that will include dreams that will not simply be washed away.  

Thanks for your support, 

till next time, 

John 

Jenga

Jenga. 
There are little things a church can do to encourage a missionary family.Maranatha Church chose, among a number of other ways, Jenga. 
At our Farewell Evening on June 21, each table of celebrators/mourners (:)) was given a few Jenga blocks and encouraged to write words of encouragement, remembrances, or anything else on them. Some chose the "anything else" category with things like "It's the 'little' moments that make life 'BIG'!!" or "Wear love everywhere you go!"; some chose remembrances of phrases I have repeated often: "have fun!" and "you are loved by God"; and still others had words of encouragement like "Be strong and courageous for the Lord God, my God, is with you" Maynard Wiersma and Ahilya Wiersma) or "You are always in our prayers" Alice VanderStoep and Hans Vander Stoep).
What a great gift this was to play and I am sure we will play it often. Stephen started a tradition of having the loser of the game point at someone else when the picture is taken. Though, to be honest, none of us lost. We all won.

Orientation:

If you were to have walked up to me on the sidewalks of Cambridge and asked me if I was entitled, the answer would have been easy: "No."

And yet, my first full day in Haiti was filled with all sorts of things I take for granted and became more work, just to do the basics of living in Haiti.  Allow me to explain.  

We began by having breakfast.  Pretty easy, cereal, eggs, coffee.  The coffee, though it tasted good, was a little more work than normal.  Find the clicker, turn on the gas, heat up the water, put grinds in the bodum, pour, find out you didn't boil enough water, boil some more, wait, press the bodum, wait, and pour.  I'll save you the details on the eggs and cereal.  

Once ready to go, there is a little mental checklist to go through:  turn everything in the house off (electricity goes off every morning and we don't want to drink up battery power), grab keys, grab wallet, grab "dummy" wallet for muggers, fill water bottle, grab phone, think about bug spray and sun screen and where I am going to be for the day, and then grab a fist-full of keys and lock the door, unlock the inner gate, go out in the yard and lock the inner gate, then go out to the outer gate (no, I am not reading to you from Leviticus), and undo the padlock and then the deadbolt, and go out the outer gate and relock the deadbolt.  

Sharon King picked us up this morning and we toured a host of stores, the FWD SUV earning its keep as we dodged people, animals, ruts, hills, rocks, and open sewer-grates on our way to Delmas and Petionville where we did some shopping.  Inside me, I was aching for regular old paved roads with rules where storm-sewer covers simply provided a blip to an otherwise smooth ride.   I found myself missing a place where traffic lights, street signs, dotted yellow lines, speed limits, helmet laws, and the virtual absence of stray dogs fail to interupt my trip to the drive-thru for my morning coffee.  

We started at the hardware store, to pick up a splitter so that the water being used to wash floors could be diverted before going through the water filtration system so that the filters could last longer.  You know, the kind of normal Saturday morning run to Home Hardware many guys like to make.  Except this was different.  The hardware store had three parking spaces, all full.  Though there was a risk of being towed by parking across the street, we were going to be quick so we parked straddling the sidewalk, manually locked all six doors, and headed into the store.  Asking for help is important.  Clerk 1 smiled and brought us to Clerk 2 who smiled and brought us to Clerk 3 who brought us to the part.  Like the Saturday morning Home Hardware run, we took the part to the cashier, who determined its value and passed us on to the person whom we paid while the cashier passed the part to the security people who received it and then after we paid dutifully looked into the one-item bag to confirm we weren't stealing anything extra, handed it to us, and we were on our way.  We got to our un-towed (phew!) car and a smiling Haitian entreated us for a tip since he had taken it upon himself to watch our car while we were in the store.  Sharon waved him off and gave us a lesson on when to tip and when not to tip as we drove away.  I found myself missing my last trip to Home Depot where I could go to the shelf, grab the item, wave it over the scanner at self-check-out, wave my pay-pass Mastercard and never miss a beat as I sauntered out to my car in the sprawling and free parking lot.  The things we take for granted.  

Next stop was the Compas Market, a great little spot to pick up some dry goods and such.  We looked at prices and learned the difference between Haitian gourdes and American dollars and when to pay what and how to pay it.  We loaded our cart with about 2800 HTG (Haitian Gourdes) worth of product, which wasn't a lot - maybe half a cart worth - but, wow, does "2800.00" on the LED display at the cash register ever catch your attention!  We determined that 2800 HTG was $62.00 US and paid cash, considering the risks of flashing that kind of wealth and the risks of using a credit card in a smaller establishment.  Next was a roadside stand where we literally parked the SUV beside the stand and hung out the window showing the smiling entrepreneurs which fruits and vegetables we would like to buy, all the while trying to get used to the fact that in Haiti you don't buy, for example, 8 potatoes, but rather you ask for 50 gourdes worth of potatoes and hope it is 8 potatoes.  Our last stop was the upscale Caribbean Market, with a guarded parking lot, air conditioning, a deli, and LOTS of selection.  We bought lunch and some groceries and this time paid with credit card, again about $62.00 but for a lot less groceries.  As we did all this, I wondered to myself just how often in the last ten years our family has run out to Zehrs and, while incredibly accessible and convenient, and safe, never once thought how much of a luxury it was to simply do that.  

So, last night, I was thinking, even though if you would have asked me if I was entitled on the streets of Cambridge, I would have said "No", I actually was.  And still am.  And am learning and becoming, already, a little more grateful.  

Till next time, 

John

Day One

Today was an eventful day: we moved to Haiti.

2:00 am the alarm went off and by 3:00 am, Wes DeGier had hooked up our trailer of 12 x 50lb suitcases and 4 carry-ons and we were headed to the airport. We arrived at 3:50, plenty of time, or so we thought, for a 6:30 am flight to Miami, our first stop en route to Port-au-Prince, our new home until next summer, which, if you ask Stephen will still be this summer because we will be wearing shorts until then, but that's another story.

Anyway, the good folks at American Airlines, who have great commercials, while they clearly laid out on their website and on the telephone that they allow (for a hefty fee) for 3x50lb bag per traveller, did not. 4 travellers times 3 bags and it was reasonable for us to show up with 12 bags, even with new math. Even with metric. Then we met "The Employee". Barking orders like a seasoned Sargeant, we recognized that this was the kind of lady you want on your team; and the initial barking suggested she wasn't. So, after she directed us to check in and while the kiosk gladly charged my credit card the reasonable fee of $760 for our luggage (no, we didn't buy new luggage, that's the shipping charge; although after what American did to our luggage we do need to buy new, but that also is another story.

Putting my now warm credit card into my pocket, we walked to the counter where the clerk informed us that, no, we may not take 12 suitcases, rather, our maximum is 8. (for those who need me to do the math, that would have had us leaving 4 suitcases in the airport, which, since 9/11, you simply cannot do). We begged, we pleaded, we mentally decided not to throw the punch we were fantasizing about. And, powerfully and strategically, we prayed, and asked the boys to pray, which they did. Just like Margaret Tigchelaar who had prayed with us the night before, asking that the people we meet would be nice.

Re-enter, "The Employee" of paragraph two. Together with another angel whose wings were part of a company logo, they found us two first class tickets, which would give us 3 bags of 70 pounds for those seats, boosting our limit up to ten from eight, though not twelve, it was a glimmer of light. We wrestled and jostled with each of our suitcases, right there in Terminal Three, jamming toilet paper and shampoo and medication into suitcases already jammed with clothes and other things we had meticulously packed in the preceding days. Wes had wanted to stick around and see if he could help, but with the trailer behind the truck, he wasn't allowed to park or double park and so he had had to go. I am glad for him he got to miss that.

And so, relegating two now-empty suitcases to the trash heap, we were now ready to proceed through baggage, customs, and security. The problem was that we had eaten up a lot of clock with our suitcase shuffling. In fact, it was 5:45 and our flight was scheduled to depart at 6:30. That was when angel #2 devised a plan, which was great for bypassing all the lines, but terrible for my aching back which had just violated all of my chirorpactor's 24-hour-old advise (and that, too, is another story). You see, Angel #2 determined that putting Carol in a wheelchair would allow us to fast track through the airport, with the only small problem being that it would leave me and two self-proclaimed muscular 8 and 12 year-olds to push 10 suitcases, 4 carry-ons (did I mention one was a guitar?) all the while each sporting a full back-pack. Let's just say I am glad I am not within slapping distance of my chiropractor or my face would be red from something beyond the 90 degree 10:00 pm temperature I am enjoying while my fingers slide off the keyboard to write this post.

To close out the story of the airport before we move past 6:30 am, our angels, including "The Employee" were exactly what Margaret Tigchelaar had prayed -- nice -- and they got us to our gate just as we and everyone else at Pearson could hear our names being blasted through the PA system that it was our "final call for boarding" whatever that means. It wasn't until we were in the air and Stephen and I (Carol insisted we take the two First Class seats for our suitcase pushing heroics, not that Nathan wasn't also a hero, but we were making decisions quickly and if we made that one again we would have selected Nathan who would have enjoyed the spinach omelettes in first class while Stephen surrendered his to his father who didn't really need a second one, but hey, they would have gone to recycling otherwise) -- It wasn't until we were in the air, and I was digesting said omelettes, that I looked at the bill-work Angel #2 had handing me as I ran to my plane while the PA blasted our names: we had been given a full refund for the $760, and the only surcharges we had to pay at the airport was $128 - totall!!. I balled like a baby that has been up since 2am, pushed suitcases around a crowded airport while his name was being called out on the PA and then sat down in First Class to coffee in fine china, TWO spinach omelletes, and a $760 gift. I was blown away.

The rest of the day was your typical day of travel, hanging out in the Miami airport for a few hours and then landing in Port-au-Prince mid-afternoon (after the plane lilted and dipped all to the sounds of vomitting passengers behind us, but that, too, is another story), and snaking our way through the 113 degree (Fahrenhuit, not quite the temperature at which humans spontaneously combust) airport, and wrestling our ten now mangled suitcases from the willing hands of those who clasped them first and smiled back for a tip -- you know, that kind of typical day.

We were greeted by Jean Marc and by Zachary (King) who picked us up at the airport and drove us the 45 minute 5 kilometer trip (yes, traffic in Haiti is a crawl, but that is yet another nother story) to our temporary home at the Luths (until the Kings leave Haiti for a year on the 21st and we move into their house (but that is YET another story). After a brief orientation to the Luth's home, we enjoyed a meal with the Kings at their (soon to be "our") home. By 9:00 we were back in the Luth's home, praying with the boys before bed.

In our time of prayer tonight, we talked about the nature of God. We had prayed that he would make our day go well. But what we really wanted was that it would go well, without undue stress to us. Instead, he showed his incarnational nature, that it is actually in the messes and chaos of life that God shows up. It is our belief that God wasn't so much promising us who pray that life will be easier (wouldn't that be tyranny, if Christians were the easy route and all others were not?), but that today was a lesson: in the chaoses (chaii?) of this next year in Haiti, we ought not expect to avoid challenge, but that we can expect that it will be in those challenges that we believe God will grant us strength and ways to see his work being greater than our own.

Tomorrow, we learn how to grocery shop and we go to the Sous Espwa office to meet the folks I will be working with . We will pray that we meet nice people and that things will go smoothly, and mostly, that we can see God enter the chaos with us again, in the hopes that in each foray in, bits of non-chaos can be recognized, enjoyed, and celebrated,

Thanks for reading to this point. I got a little long-winded. That's a first.



John