Haiti was our home for a year - and we may just take it with us

In 12 hours, we will be on a plane to Canada; or more specifically, out of Haiti.  I know all the details - flight numbers, flight times, which seats we will have on the plane, how many pounds overweight our luggage will be, when we will land, who will pick us up, where we will sleep tomorrow night, even what we will be wearing.

But I have no clue what tomorrow brings.  No offense google calendar.

For the past year, Haiti has been home.  Seeing these words on the page as I write them, my head says they should look wrong, but they don't.  Haiti has been our home.  It has been normal to wake to the sounds of roosters and mototaxis.  Normal to hear the sounds of packs of dogs roaming the neighbourhood while I fall asleep, or even the occasional gun-shot as justice is served in a place where some believe it justice to shoot the person who robs you.  It has been normal to see beggars in all sizes and ages -- old women, little boys, and everything in between.  God help us that is has been normal to see beggars, especially children.

Normal this year has been seeing broken-down vehicles parked in the middle of the street with the hood up and stones around the tires, a green branch functioning as a traffic cone; it has been normal to see sewer grates missing on roads as I veer around the cavernous holes; it has been normal to see what was the neighbourhood dump turn into a building lot and a home be built right on top; normal to see dour-faced charcoal vendors slumped over their wares at the side of the road in the heat of the day; normal to see goats and donkeys and cows and pigs and chickens roam the streets of this city of 3 million souls; normal to check the water and the electricity every night before I go to bed; normal to check the two locks on the gate, two locks on the front door, two locks on the back door and even the locks on the patios upstairs front and back before heading to bed.  I don't mind leaving all of those 'normals' behind.  As a Christian, I look forward to a day when aall of these normals will be unnecessary, and I pray we can all work together to make that happen even before Jesus returns.

But there are other normals I will miss.  Despite the chaos of the roads of Port-au-Prince, I will miss what I have experienced as the courtesy and humour of Haitian drivers.  I will miss the staff who worked in our home, even though there were days their limits frustrated me, they have become a part of us and being us without them will take an adjustment.  I will miss our dogs - Pearl and Angel - first dogs our family of 27 years have ever had, but sure to not be the last as they have inspired us to become a dog family once we get to Fergus.  I will miss my neighbours -- the Whites, the Shandorffs, Helen Kim next door and my first ever Voodoo witch doctor neighbour across the road - Lupey and his wife Miriam.  I will miss our church family here in Haiti at Quisqueya Chapel - a host of inspiring folks who sacrificially give themselves in ministry all week not to mention the way they work to keep the Chapel going.  I will miss those who became our friends here in our small group  - Austin and Martha Snowbarger, Tyson and Paula Bohlinger, Jason and Andrea Schmick, and especially Randy and Karen Lodder and their family, though I suspect we will see them again, regularly.

I will miss Sous Espwa - the ministry of the Christian Reformed Church's World Missions and World Renew - and the incredibly inspiring staff I served with:  Larry Luth who shared my office and my province of origin, who oriented me in so many ways and yet gave me space to serve.  I will miss our Friday afternoon chats and the window he gave me into what God is doing in him; Lunise Cerin Jules, the World Renew Country Consultant (boss) who stopped by yet today at our house to wish us well.  She is an old soul with a fiery young heart.  She has taught me more than she can imagine.  I will miss the rest of the staff -- Fevrier Jean Cherubin whom I can't imagine not smiling, Daphnee Pierre who I can still hear singing, Jackson Gabelus whose persistent hope and hard work despite all the suffering and brokenness I know he knows are an inspiration to my faith, Jacky Chery whose workload at Perspective Reformee would have crushed a mortal long ago, and Massillon Coicou who somehow seems to have a billion things on the go all the time and yet never misses a deadline.  I will miss the helper staff - Jean who makes the coffee and keeps the offices clean, Prens whose street-knowledge has been instructive to me numerous times, and Fritznel whose appreciation for little things is a humbling and beneficial food to my soul.  It will be weird not going in to work on Monday, and Tuesday, and so on.

But most, I will miss the incredible gift God gave me this year.  Yes, I did some work.  Valuable work in my opinion -- in fact, I will REALLY miss my students at the seminary -- but the work I did is nothing compared to the work God did on me and on my family.  This was a year our unique family of disparate-aged-children had the opportunity to be incubated in mission together as we lived in the same house and served in the same city and struggled with a lot of the same challenges not just in work but to our faith.  This was the year we sang more than any year before; the year we played more cards and sat in more rocking chairs and generally were WITH each other in a way we simply somehow hadn't been before.  I will miss this year, and yet, I and all of my family will carry what we have received this year as God the author and weaver of our story has knit it into who we now are.

Yeah, Haiti was our home for a year.  And tomorrow we leave.  But I suspect, along with the eight suitcases, three carry-ons, four back-packs and one guitar we have packed by the door and ready to go for the morning, we may just take a little Haiti with us.

Fare-well

Just one year ago, we were saying fare-well to our church family in Cambridge, Ontario.  Now again, we are in a season of fare-well as we prepare to depart Haiti this coming Friday June 5th.  It is a time full of details - packing, planning, finishing my work - and a time full of recognizing all that God has done through us and in us this year.

Of course, the fare-well season began six weeks ago, when Meghan and Kristin returned to Ontario, followed a week later by Erin.  In many ways, with their departure, a part of us has already been in Ontario for some time.  Meghan, Kristin, and Erin were a HUGE part of our family being in Haiti, in many ways setting a pace for involvement in ministry that was both humbling and inspiring.  At the end of Meghan's time at Maison de Lumiere, the French Christian School she taught at, she was showered with thanks, praise and affection for all she had done and simply for who she is and the love she expressed to the people she was called to serve.  Around the same time, one of the places Erin served, Adoration Christian School, went out of their way in a time of celebration to express their words of blessing to her for the tireless love-filled work she did in creating and teaching an art curriculum to the students this year.  In those all school parties, our daughters received a small taste of how much they were appreciated, a sort of pre-echo of God's words to come, "Well done, good and faithful servant; come and share in your master's happiness."

In that same vein, Carol and the boys and I were richly blessed by my colleagues at Sous Espwa this past Thursday, the same day as our 27th Wedding Anniversary, when they threw a party to express their appreciation in words.  It was a holy Haitian event.  It was wonderfully Haitian in that there was song, food, decorations, and lots of heart-felt speeches. It was beautifully holy as many of my colleagues and ministry partners shared words that I will treasure for some time.  Thanks goes to all of these dear friends for their expression of blessing to us, but especially to Daphnee Pierre and Fevrier Jean Cherubin for the sheer volume of work and care they put into planning the event.  Here are some pictures to help you share in the event:

Pastor Jacky Chery, the Director of Perspectives Reformee, (Back to God Ministrie) the radio and print ministry which broadcasts across the island and follows up with impacting bible studies and discipleship.  Pastor Jacky works tirelessly, with too few resources.  I'd love to find a way to find funding for him to have the Libronix Bible Software and Word Biblical Commentaries program (which I have had for years) to help him in preparing thoughtful, biblical, impacting messages for his ministry.  

Our Office Manager and finance guru, Massillon Coicou, works hard to coordinate donations and payments.  Every morning when I come in, he is already in his office, usually with praise music going.  It has been inspiring to watch him involve different people he has been discipling by having them volunteer in some way for the work of Sous Espwa.  I have regularly appreciated Massillon's unique insights during our Tuesday morning times of devotion.  Pray for him as he regularly stands in the gap between North American culture as he oversees the Haitian support staff of the office.  In Massillon's speech, he said that it is not until we are about to say "good-bye" that we realize how special and important someone is to us.  This is exactly how I feel about all the Sous Espwa staff.

Gregory Paultre was hired after I got to Haiti.  He is a Haitian-born and American-educated (Liberty University) young man from a fairly prominent evangelical family in Haiti.  He serves as our Bridger - working between World Renew and World Missions, but even more, working between the Haitian and North American cultures.  His role is most active when we have teams here in country and so this past January to March when we had teams nearly every week, he was a very busy person.  Gregory has taught me a lot about the moral struggles of young people  in Haiti.  I look forward to seeing how God shapes and uses this young man for his glory and for the benefit of the Sous Espwa staff.

This is how much food is still in the serving pans after everyone has had a full helping.  There was salad, coke and 7UP, french fries, chicken, goat, and a Haitian "cole slaw" called "piklees" that is very spicy.  In a country where food scarcity is a real concern for many, making sure that there is enough food for everyone is an important part of hospitality.  Daphnee and Fevrier who planned this party wonderfully went "over the top" with their hospitality, and I really appreciated the gesture. 

This man's name is Pastor Herode Guillometre.  Yes, Herode.  He is the Director of one of Sous Espwa's ministry partners - SKDE - who run the seminary program I have spent a fair bit of energy teaching in.  Herode is a bright man, articulate in three languages, and he is a committed visionary leader who loves the Lord and the church.  He oversees SKDE and all of its programs.  He has been a great encourager to me, showing me the benefit of a theological education for the pastors I am teaching and how that makes a difference in their communities.  Under Herode's leadership, I have taught three courses -- Spiritual Formation for Pastors, Eschatology, and Biblical Interpretation.  I have grown tremendously from doing this, not only in rehearsing the knowledge but in seeing the sacrifice my students make to come to class, from hearing their questions, and simply by experiencing the teamwork of men from different cultures pursuing the same goal of the health of the church.  

Here we are, after having received this lovely gift of appreciation, a 24" x 32" painting of our family (copied from a photograph, no we didn't sit still that long) and with a backdrop of a Haitian country side and the Sous Espwa logo in the top corner.  Beside Nathan in the blue shirt is Pastor Jackson Gabelus.  Jackson is always smiling and is a very hard worker, but he is also wise and loves the Lord deeply.  I have seen many ways that Jackson, who works for World Renew, has been effective in working with the whole staff.  My favourite memory of Jackson was last fall when we were doing a formal evaluation of one of our ministries -- MDK, or Ministry of Christian Development.  Jackson was masterful at putting us together as teams to go out into the countryside and lead conversations about community development in such a way that we heard stories -- through Venn Diagrams and Neighbourhood Mapping no less -- about the sustainability and progress of the work being done.  My prayer for Jackson, as he works part-time toward his MBA, is that God would continue to expand the scope of his ministry as he faithfully puts his hand to those things that matter to God....and that he would keep smiling!

From left to right - Fevrier Jean Cherubin, Jackson Gabelus, Nathan, Carol, John Vanderstoep, Daphnee Pierre, Lunise Jules Cerin, Jacky Chery, Larry Luth and two of our support staff, Jean and Prens.  Fevrier is a cheerful musical man of God.  He is a maestro (choir director) at a Port-au-Prince First Baptist Church downtown.  I had the opportunity to speak to his choir of fifty people last fall and it was such a joy to speak to them and then to hear them give me a private concert - beautiful!
Daphnee Pierre, who is standing on a chair beside me, has been a picture to me of what a godly Haitian single woman should be like.  She loves to sing and praise the Lord and is probably our most dedicated participant in staff devotions.  My favourite memory of Daphnee was the time she lost her voice one weekend after a youth retreat she planned because the retreat was so full of praise that she lost her voice.
Larry Luth is my colleague at World Missions.  As he and I are really trying to take the place of three full-time positions this year, he has taken on a mountain of work and has not cracked under the pressure.  My favourite memory of Larry this year is really a re-occurring one.  He and I share an office with our desks facing opposite walls.  Most Friday afternoons, we simply turn our chairs toward each other and hear one another.  He's helped me process and think through a lot of what we do, especially when I had questions when we got started.  My hope for Larry in this coming year is that he will be blessed by the return of one of the seasoned missionaries and that this will lighten his load more than a rookie like I could have.  

This lady is Lunise Jules Cerin.  She is a saint, a prophet, a musician, a firebrand, and a sister in Christ.  She is a also a person who has had a profound impact on me.  I met Lunise for the first time in January of 2014 when she stayed with us in Cambridge, Ontario as she was visiting supporters of World Renew.  She is the Haiti Country Director for World Renew.  Lunise, because of her vast experience, her gutsy perspective, and her passion for justice, is an incredible leader on the Sous Espwa team, leading in a way that I am just beginning to recognize.  At our farewell, she sang a song, playing her guitar.  Lunise is completing her time with World Renew at the end of June, and likely moving to the USA after that.  I hope she makes it back to Canada for a visit - I'd love to introduce some of our Canadian friends and hear her play guitar there. :)

There were 20 of us at the party.  This cake could serve 60.  Haitian hospitality in a nutshell (or a cake box). 

The beautiful painting we were gifted with.  God has profoundly affected all of us by the year he gave us in Haiti.
It was a privilege to be able to also affect others.
I can't say "Haiti will never be the same because of our visit"
but I must say, "We will never be the same because of the incredible people we served with here."

Thank you very much, my friends.
God bless you.
Mesi anpil, zanmi' m'.
Bondye beni w'. 

Open House

To Our Supporters, Friends and Family,

You are Invited to a 

'Welcome Back to Canada'
OPEN HOUSE

Thank you to  

 Clare and Sandy Streutker 

who graciously offered to host this event!

Light Snacks and Beverages Will Be Served

Saturday, June 13 from 3-6 p.m.

Children are welcome!

  

Bring a bathing suit IF you would like to swim in their pool.

Address: 271 Kenneth Avenue, Kitchener, ON

Facilitating Ministry

In January, February and March of this year, many different teams of people came from Canada and the USA to Haiti to facilitate ministry.  Six folks came from Brampton, nine were part of a team from Cambridge, Woodland Christian High in Breslau sent twelve, eleven Woodland Alumni made their way here, fourteen folks from Rochester, and then another three from Cambridge rounded out the group in January and February.  Add to that in March a group of 14 from New York, New Jersey, and Minnesota, as well as a final group of nine from Strathroy, as well as Clare and Sandy Streutker from Cambridge, and you have a grand total of 86 people who came to Haiti for a week or more, to learn and to serve and to facilitate ministry.

While they were here, they did a lot of learning about history, about culture, and about contextualizing the gospel into a language, economy, and context that challenged them and helped them consider the meaning and power of the gospel here in Haiti as well as at home.  In preparation for coming, some of them read, "When Helping Hurts" and had discussions about the healthiest way to bring 'help' to those who could either be blessed or damaged by that help, depending on how it was extended to them.

One of the ways we at Sous Espwa (the North American Christian Reformed Church ministries in Haiti) have sought to facilitate this helpfulness is to work with Haitian-run partnerships and support them in the goals and objectives of ministry which they articulate and to come alongside them in projects which help them meet those goals and pursue the mission which God is entrusting them with.

 One of the partner agencies Sous Espwa has celebrated the growth of over the years is MDK:  Ministry Kretienne Devlopment or Ministry of Christian Development.  MDK provides training to Christian leaders to work within their communities.  MDK's training helps Christian leaders to work alongside leaders of other churches and of non-church entities to cooperate together for the betterment of their communities.  MDK's work is inspiring and tangible, rooting in the gospel and person of Christ, and empowered by the Spirit, I have seen physical evidence of community development in Community Associations, sanitation projects, water projects, literacy projects, and, since the earthquake, a ministry called "Give Me a Foot" which works with and for those who have suffered amputations as a result of the earthquake.

MDK hosts training at their offices in Tabarre, near the Port-au-Prince airport.  Over the years, because of the success of their ministry, they have needed an increasingly larger space.  This year, the teams mentioned above, came to add a large narthex and registration area for people coming to the courses.  Yesterday, today and tomorrow marks the last time that a training will be done without that space as the finishing touches on that space will be done before the next training sessions.  I went there yesterday to take some pictures of the training going on so that you could see the large number of people and so that you could see the way the registration process inside the training area is not compatible with having those in training focus on training.  Indeed, this week's training is a huge blessing, and the next training they run will be that much more effective as they are finally able to use the narthex area.

Below are some pictures, first of the nearly-finished narthex and registration area, and then of the training going on this week.  As you look at them, give thanks for the teams who came to build this, working alongside Haitians, and what they have done to facilitate ministry.  And even more, give thanks for the ministry of the Spirit who is calling and equipping these folks for ministry in Christ's name.

This is the newly painted main teaching hall and newly concrete-paved patio and parking lot leading from the newly installed main security gate.  To the far left is the new outbuilding housing the kitchen to feed all the students. 

This is the walkway to the narthex and registration area.  This was all dirt and a hole in the ground until June 6th when Clare Streutker arrived.  He and the teams he supervised worked alongside newfound Haitian friends in the hot Haitian sun to build this.  Only they and God knows how hard the work was, and only they and God know the incredible value of this form of encouragement and ministry facilitation this is for the Haitian Christian community leaders trained here. 

Almost finished!  The steps and wheelchair ramp are installed, the columns and walls are smooth and ready for paint and the spaces for the doors and windows await their metal occupants.  

From inside the new narthex and registration area, one gets an idea of how large this area is.  The open door straight ahead leads to the adminstrative offices of MDK and the double door to the left leads to the teaching hall.  

Looking out from the narthex and registration area, down the artistically configured pathway back to the outdoor entrance to the main hall.  

Early morning in the main hall, already 30 of the registrants for this weeks training are assembled.  As the day progresses, their number will swell to 70 leaders being trained!  Praise God for what he does in them these days and through them in the days to come to make a tangible difference in their communities. 

What about the bible?  While the training they receive is beautifully practical, it is also rooted in the person and work of Jesus.  A passion for his kingdom is fostered among all the trainees not only through their own personal devotions but through opening and sharing the impact of God's word through devotions and testimonies throughout the day. 

For the sake of understanding why the narthex and registration area construction was a necessary last piece of work, here is a picture looking back from the training area toward the door where people are registering.  Imagine metal chairs on ceramic tile in a concrete hall and the noise of voices at the back of the room competing for attention with the main speakers at the front.  All those involved in MDK's training are thankful that future training will be uninterrupted by this in the future. 

The training session commences.  Pastor Lemet Zafir, the Director of MDK introduces a variety of speakers at the beginning of the day who share their testimonies of how God is using the training they are receiving to impact their communities.  

Let it Rain

Apparently, we are in the rainy season, but we have not had a lot of rain lately. The cistern that fills with water for our daily use when it rains, is getting low. We may need to 'order a water truck' soon to fill the cistern. Since it is hot and humid most days, we look forward to the rain which usually comes in the evening and cools things down a bit for sleeping. When it rains the dust settles and everything feels fresh again. It's almost like I am a wilted flower that comes back to life with the rain.  

We engage all of our senses when it rains.  We hear the loud sound of water flowing and hitting the cement ground making most rainfalls sound like a torrential rain storm. Sometimes we stop what we're doing and either go outside or hang over the upper deck to feel the rain.  We can literally smell the dusty roads getting watered and the following day we can see that the dusty leaves and flowers have been dusted clean. We refrain from tasting the water until after it has been purified :)  

This is the view of a downpour taken from our upper deck during the rainy season in November.

 This is the rain that collected just outside of our kitchen door as it had no where to go.

It rained last night. In fact, it poured and came with a thunderstorm.  After singing in the rain so to speak, my heart sank at the thought of the homes where many people live in this city, especially since in the past month, I have had the opportunity to visit some Haitian homes and now have a fuller understanding of the hardship that rain can cause.  Although many people live in concrete structures like ours, I am painfully aware of the people who are living in inadequate structures with tin roofs and I wonder how they felt about the rain and thunderstorm last night.  I recalled the time we were on the road in our vehicle and witnessed how some people deal with the rain.  We noticed the lack of infrastructure for water drainage and wondered if we and others would make it through the streets without damage to our vehicles with the rising water (which is why we see so many vehicles with ‘snorkels’ - something I've never seen before moving to Haiti.)  As the water flowed down (Port-au-Prince is very hilly), it picked up the garbage that is all over the streets causing difficulty for some.  I saw a man standing in a few feet of water with a broom trying to make sure the sewer grate remained clear so the water would go down the hole rather than into his house.  

I also recalled some of the homes I saw a few weeks ago on a dry day. My friend, Brigitte, my daughter, Kristin and I went to visit young moms with their new babies in housing that was in a ravine not far from the office where John works. We walked down a steep path which I would not have wanted to walk down in the rain as it would have been treacherous, but it was the only way to the many homes below. Each home was a small room or two and was connected to the next dwelling.  There was no privacy.  You could talk to your neighbour from your living to hers.  All the houses were built out of concrete and covered with tin roofs.  The alley ways that wove their way through this ‘village’ of homes were not wide and would be very slippery when wet.  I noticed that we had to take a giant step over the threshold to get into each individual house and I realized the purpose was to keep the rain water from entering the houses, but the alleys would be flowing with water during rain.

 Bridgitt with some of the moms she visits regularly to support and encourage them.

Couldn't resist a few shots of us holding these adorable babies!

    

A week after those visits I went with another friend, Karen and my daughter, Erin to visit students from Adoration Christian Centre.  Erin taught Art at Adoration two days a week this year to Grades 1-10 and I have had the opportunity to lead a few seminars for the teachers.  Karen thought it would be a good idea for us to see how and where many of the students live and I had an additional interest in visiting a little girl named Ruth Cherline who is the sponsor child of Community Christian School in Drayton where I teach. I thought I was prepared after visiting homes with Brigitte the previous week, but I wasn’t.  One of the high school students took us to his neigbourhood and we walked through the winding concrete maze saying "Bon swa" and smiling to every person we met along the way.  My eyes were opened that day to conditions that I hadn't experienced yet in Haiti and it was hard, but the love of Christ flowing out of this lady was contagious.

Franklin was the Adoration student who took us to his neighbourhood.  

He is posing with his mom and nephew.  

We moved on to another neighbourhood so I could visit my school's sponsor child. All eyes were on me as I parked my SUV into a tiny space blocking the entrance to someone's home. The young men inside agreed to have us park there for a short time. When three ‘blan’ (white) women emerged with a ‘blan’ baby, the stares continued. We visited a woman who used to work at Adoration until she got sick with a debilitating disease. She was laying on a bed in a two room house that had many stairs to get up and I wondered how often she leaves that bed.  She was filled with joy to see Karen’s baby and seemed so happy to have visitors. Then we made a phone call to Ruth Cherline’s mom. While we waited for two people to meet us at our vehicle to show us the way to Ruth's house, we were standing beside dirty grey smelly water and at one point I had to do some ‘self-talk’ to stop the gag reflex as the smell was so repulsive.  The staring continued as we walked down the street.  I felt like a celebrity, but I really didn’t want to.  Ruth was expecting us as I had already told her that I would be visiting her at home.  We met her mom who quickly offered us a chair in the alley leading to her house and we graciously sat down. My school had sent a doll for me to give to Ruth which she seemed pleased with.  I was sad to learn that her dad and brother no longer live with her and her mom. What I did notice while walking down the street was students wearing Adoration uniforms who seemed to have a look of hope in their eyes and joy in their hearts and that was so good to see!  

Erin and I with Ruth, her mom and a little neighbourhood friend.

Our afternoon of visiting was sensory overload for both Erin and me.  It wasn’t until we got home when Erin and I shared our experience with John that both of us were in tears from our eye-opening and heart-wrenching experience. 

When I get these feelings, about the desperation of those around me and the size of the challenge being bigger than I can either understand or change, I can feel overwhelmed.  I long for a kind of blessing to fall from heaven, to come and make a refreshing and tangible change in this dry and dusty place.  I long for stuff that is beyond my capacity to do, or even to imagine.  It occurs to me that I am longing for what I know God longs for: justice, mercy, service, community, love, compassion and the renewal of all things.  I long for this for myself, for Haiti, and for little Ruth Cherline, whose hopeful eyes I can imagine as I write this. 

One day that real rain will come.  It will be refreshing for all, not just for the rich on the hill and a threat for the poor in the valley. Martin Luther King used to quote the prophet Amos about the day that ‘justice would roll down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.’ 

As I think about this, and though we've only made a hardly identifiable dent, I am glad to have been a part of the mission of God in Haiti.  I am thankful that our family could give some time and effort to show love to the people of Haiti through service.  Knowing that this work goes on – through the prayers and giving and presence of a community much larger than me – long after we leave will help me in leaving to know that though I have seen much pain I couldn’t heal, the One who makes the rain sees it all and has a plan. 

“Let it rain! Let it rain!  Open the flood gates of heaven.

The Lord reigns, let the earth be glad.

Let the distant shores rejoice.

Cloud and thick darkness surround him.

Righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne.

A fire goes before him and consumes his foes on every side.

His lightning lights up the world.

The earth sees and trembles.

The mountains melt like wax before the Lord.

Before the Lord of all the earth.

The heavens proclaim his righteousness.

And all people will see his glory!

We want to see your glory, God!

Do you want to see his glory?

Lift your voices, lift your hands!

Let it rain, let it rain. 

Open the floodgates of heaven”

Psalm 97 via Michael W. Smith.

P.S. You might have noticed that John’s ‘voice’ joined mine toward the end of this blog post.  He helped me ‘land the plane’ so to speak.  I’m sure it would have been a dead giveaway if I had included his idea to reference a band that he used to listen to called the ‘Clash’ from our younger years :)

Goats

In just 25 days we will return home.

There will be some things I won't miss:  smells of bug spray, burning plastic garbage or rotting food; sounds of fans (constantly fans!) and car horns and young children saying "blan, give me dollar;"  and sights of excessive black exhaust from vehicles, glass and plastic and food waste all mixed in my garbage, children being swatted by their parents or keepers in broad daylight, women physically pushing off advances by sexual harassers, an incredible number of beautiful people with missing limbs, and sheer and abject chaos and poverty at every turn.

However, there are just as many things I will miss.  Maybe more.  Among them, I will miss the goats.

Yes, that's right:  I will miss the goats.

Allow me to explain.

As our family of seven rounds out our year of Haiti, of cross-cultural mission, we are taking stock of what we have seen, experienced, done, and how it has affected us.  Already three of us -- Meghan, Kristin, and Erin - are back to 'normal life' in Canada -- working, going to school, and reconnecting face to face with family and friends.  For them, their everyday is back to what was normal before they got here.  They are sharing bits and parts of their experience of what the experts call "re-entry" and Carol and I are getting a foretaste of what that will look and feel like for us post June 5th.

As I anticipate some of the same emotions and questions of that transition, I am taking stock of what is normal for me now.  Although adjusting to life in Haiti was a steep learning curve -- and we continue to learn everyday -- there are a number of things we have become accustomed to.  Some of them will be missed.  I will miss the goats.

Two stray goats just outside our office compound. 

One of my daily routines as I drive back and forth to the Sous Espwa office is taking regard for the goats.    They are ubiquitous -- everywhere!   The city of Port-au-Prince, though comparable in population numbers to Toronto, is a tightly packed city at the base of a mountain range bordering the sea.  Even though it is very much an urban place, it is packed to the rim with animals.  Mornings begin with the sounds of chickens clucking away; evenings end with the sounds of wild dogs, moving in packs throughout the city, barking at the moon or whatever dogs bark at at night.  We have seen rats as big as cats, regularly being taken in sport by our dogs -- one weekend they netted six!  We have seen horses and donkeys walking along the streets, sometimes with no owner in sight.  We have seen as many as 8 cattle at once.  I remember once when Clare Streutker was with us, him driving for one of the first times as I showed him a short-cut  between the CRC (Haiti) Ministry Centre and our home, and we rounded a corner and there coming right at our truck were 8 cattle, horns threatening but eventually avoiding our front grill.

And then there are goats.  Everywhere!  Goats will eat almost anything.  As scavengers, they are survivors.  We've seen -- and heard -- them countless times from our home.  In fact one game we can play here is "baby or goat" when we hear a cry, trying to determine which is which since their sounds are so eerily similar.  We have also seen them all over the city - in groups from one to a dozen usually though sometimes more - often making a meal out of the rotting piles of garbage left on sidewalks and gravel streets.  Often with ropes around their necks, long since chewed off from some past 'owner' who was living off their milk-producing labour and fattening them up for an eventual kill to supply a feast of 'Cabrit' (goat meat), they travel from meal to meal, from shade to shade, from water source to water source, eeking out an existence.

Again, just outside our office, it is not uncommon to see one dozen or more goats making their way between meals and shade spots. 

Goats using our vehicles for shade from the hot afternoon sun.

As I encounter these goats -- either seeing them, smelling them, hearing them, or needing to warn them before driving away when they are under my vehicle -- I cannot help but smirk inside.  My inner child plays with their names -- Nanny, Billy, Kid -- and I begin to see them as individuals with "goat-sonalities" (I'm guessing that's the goat version of a personality; feel free to correct me if I am wrong) and with a web of relationships with other goats, vying for that piece of garbage or that spot of shade or looking out for a younger one in a harsh place.

And this is when I realize it that for me at least these goats have come to represent Haiti:  her culture, her people, her land, even her animals.  In these goats as they scramble up impossible perches or scrape a living out of scrap, I see the indefatigable spirit which I have come to know and love and recognize as normal and a part of my everyday.  When I see one with the remains of a chewed off rope around its neck, yet walking in freedom, I am reminded of the famous statue in the centre of Port-au-Prince, opposite where the Presidential Palace stood prior to the January 12, 2010 earthquake, a statue of a former slave, sword in one hand, blowing the (freedom) conch in the other, and an ankle still adorned by a shackle, a shackle now uncoupled from its chain.

Le Negre Marron - The Black Maroon

This black goat under the abandoned maroon metal truck cap has a long-since-chewed-free rope around his neck. 

 I have this feeling, that from now on, when I see a goat, I will not be able to help thinking of all these things.  And I might just shed a tear of remembrance.

Transitions

Twenty-three-plus years ago, Carol and I were attending one of those classes expectant parents attend to calm their nerves and give them something to do while they await the presence of their first child.  Our instructor routinely used words generally reserved for hushed conversations as she told us detail after detail of the birth experience, right down to a discussion about what most couples do with the placenta - that rich mass of nutrients essential during pregnancy and useless afterward.

It was in this class that I became familiar with the word:  transition.  While the goal of pregnancy is the baby, there seemed to be one last battle to be won, one last Jordan or Rubicon to cross, one more travail to endure:  transition.  Transition was that time when the baby's  delivery was soon and very soon.  Though extremely hard on the birth mother, it was simultaneously a moment of exhilaration and anxiety.  And it would be worth it:  new birth, new life, and all that entails.

Five kids later, transition is taking on a new meaning.  It was over a year ago that my mentor, Ben, mentioned the book, "Managing Transitions: Making the Most out of Change" by William and Susan Bridges.  Ben was helping me work through the changes in my life -- ending ten years in Cambridge, moving to Haiti for one year, preparing for life after Haiti -- and he helped me see that we don't really move directly from one thing to another but instead we have a time between the two things where our attention to the former is starting to wane and our attention to the latter is continually growing.  In other words, there was a place between Cambridge and Haiti called transition and there would be a place between Haiti and "whatever is next" called transition.

Transition is life partly in the old and partly in the new and actually not fully in either.  It is also a place of great inner growth, when we allow it.  The Biblical narrative shows God's people in transition almost always.  In the Old Testament we saw them on the move, toward the promised land, and even when they physically arrived, they weren't fully 'there.'  Even the New Testament story, with the coming of Jesus is described as a time of "already, but not yet."

The season our family officially kicked off on Friday is the season of transition.  Meghan and Kristin returned to Ontario then and Erin will move back on Thursday of this week.  The rest of us return June 5th.  It has been an incredible year, but it is time for transition.

Carol and I are both having conversations with employers in Ontario - actual and potential - and much of our thoughts are simultaneously consumed with the shaping of life to come while continually giving good attention to the life, ministry, and opportunities that lay in front of us here.  While I speak, Carol and Erin are planning a seminar they are leading on Tuesday.  Tomorrow I will be in front of a class of pastors teaching the difference between hermeneutics and homiletics (yes, it matters!).

I'm sure that in future blogs we'll be able to share more about our life to come and we look forward to doing that, but for now it is important for us to park in the transition, to take this time seriously for the lessons to be learned in it, and to enjoy the presence and leading of God for TODAY.  In a sense, we are like babies in the womb, and while the "nutrients of this placenta" might not be useful for the life to come, it is intensely life-giving to simply pay attention to and feed on now.

If you are in a transition, I get that you are either mourning what was (looking back) or eager for what will be (looking ahead), but let me urge you to while you mourn or anticipate to be sure you give lots of attention to simply BE.  Live in the day that God is giving you, today.  Notice the people who ARE around you, rather than focussing on the people of the past you are missing or the people of the future who are unknown to you.  Notice the way your stretching in so many ways is actually creating a new you now.