Holes

It is ten years today that my Dad died.  I think about him a lot when I'm in Haiti.  I see a wobbly structure and I think about how his skilled hands, the hands of a carpenter, would have knowledgeably straightened it.  I think about him when I see boys growing up just like he did, without a dad to love and care for them.  I think about him when I look into the eyes of a Haitian who has struggled with sin and addiction and fights now to hold onto the grace of Christ.  I think about him when I meet some of the older Americans who come to serve in Haiti, to build and fix and mend; sometimes they're a little rough around the edges, but they are always full of a desire to pour out the love of Christ on others in practical ways, just like my Dad.  I think about him when I am asked to do something that he taught me, like drive a manual truck full of people through the streets of Haiti, or troubleshoot plumbing problems when there is no running water, or find a way to trust God in situations that seem hard and uncomfortable and far beyond my own abilities.  It has been ten years since my Dad died and I'm thinking about him a lot.

Yesterday we went to the ocean.  It was meant to be a sweet time of fellowship for the ladies who have been here this summer.  It was also a time to look out over the ocean and remember.  Remember loss and pain, my own and that of so many others here in Haiti and at home.  Loss of parents, friends, children... Loss of dreams, homes, jobs, health, hope... But more than that, it was a time to remember the God who takes all of those things and redeems them. 

Last Sunday, the pastor here spoke about being complete in Christ. He described the love of God as being like the ocean.  It is great and vast and consuming.  He went on to talk about the pain and sorrows we feel like holes dug deep into the shores of our lives. The ocean doesn't erase these holes in the sand, but rather, it fills them up.  And so as I think about ten years without my Dad, I'm thinking about the God who has filled that hole up.  It's still there, the hurt and loss and sorrow, but it has made room for a deeper knowledge of God's love and care.  Even as I know that there may well come more loss and pain and holes in this life, I look forward to seeing how God's love will continue to transform and redeem and fill these holes up.  

With much love in Christ, Jessie