Faces

Sometimes I'm anxious about looking people in the eyes.  To stand face to face with another person and look directly into their eyes feels scary and intimidating because it requires vulnerability and openness.  Without ever saying a word, we can communicate so much with our facial expressions. Sometimes it's easier to look away rather than engage in the depth and truth that exists when we come together, face to face.

Here in Haiti, I'm surrounded each day by so many faces.  Familiar faces that greet me each morning with sleepy eyes and run smiling to give me a big hug.  Kind faces of caregivers who can only communicate with me through facial expressions and gestures and the shared understanding of the quirks and endearing qualities of these sweet kiddos.  Curious faces of people in the streets of Port au Prince as this strange "blan" (white) walks by.  Engaged faces of educators who are eager for discussion and tools to be able to meet the great needs of their children.  Tired faces of workers returning home for the day with baskets of unsold produce resting on their heads.  Worried faces of people coming and going and still never finding all their needs met.  And lots of silly faces of children celebrating the freedoms of summer vacation...  

I look in the mirror after seeing all those faces and I wonder what my face said today. Did it show sympathy and understanding, or was it full of judgement? Did it show awareness and concern, or was it full of distraction and neglect?  Did it show compassion and mercy, or was it full of frustration and selfishness?

Then I imagine another face.  The face of our Lord.  I think He never shied away from looking someone in the eyes.  While still knowing all of our mess and brokenness, He lifts our chin and His eyes look right down into our souls.  He looks at us and He knows us.  What a comfort to be fully known and fully accepted because of His goodness...

You have searched me, Lord,
    and you know me.
 You know when I sit and when I rise;
    you perceive my thoughts from afar.
 You discern my going out and my lying down;
    you are familiar with all my ways.
 Before a word is on my tongue
    you, Lord, know it completely.
 You hem me in behind and before,
    and you lay your hand upon me.
 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too lofty for me to attain.

 Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you.

~Psalm 139:1-12

I'm so thankful today for the chance to see these faces and know these people.  Many thanks for following along with me on this journey!  Much love in Christ until we can meet again face to face! Jessie

Centered

We finished our first week of teacher training.  One of my tasks this summer is to work with the Haitian teachers and administrators from two local schools (Christian Light School and The TLC Barefoot School.)  The goal is to encourage and support the Haitian teachers in their incredibly challenging task of educating some of the neediest and most "at risk" children you'll ever meet.

Every year I am struck by the overwhelming joy and optimism of these teachers.  They have so little in the way of tools and resources and each day they are faced with such need.  They are not highly paid for their difficult work and have struggles of their own to survive and care for their families. 

And yet, there exists in each of them a heart that is so centered on Christ that they live and breathe hope and faith. They see the reality of their circumstances and the circumstances of their students and are still able to cling to hope. 

To start teacher institute, we begin each morning reading excerpts from C.J. Mahaney's The Cross-Centered Life.  We spend time talking about the gospel and identifying how it is not only our hope for eternity, but it is also our only hope in the here and now. 

It is our hope for that student who comes to school after seeing his mother beaten by his father.

It is our hope when our family members get sick and we don't have money for medication.

It is our hope when our newborn child isn't eating and is 

failing to thrive.

It is our hope when we are separated from our spouse for years because in a corrupt government system, we cannot get a visa.

It is our hope when our students misbehave day after day.

It is our hope when there is not enough money left at the end of the month to feed our children.

It is our hope when the roof of our humble home leaks in every torrential rainstorm.

It is our hope in all things.

I am humbled and challenged by the ways these dear friends are living such cross-centered lives.  They see Christ's love and sacrifice on our behalf in all of life.  Even as I pray for them to continue on in their faithful pursuit of the good news, I'm praying for myself and for you, that we too would have hearts and lives that are centered on the cross.

With much love in Christ, Jessie

Boys

I sometimes feel like I'm living in Neverland with Peter Pan and his lost boys... And I'm loving every minute of it!

Jubilee

Jubilee.  In my understanding, the Year of Jubilee was a Sabbath of Sabbaths, a time of reconciliation and redemption, a unique occasion for restoration and rejoicing.  In the Year of Jubilee debts would be forgiven and property would be restored, even the mundane cycles of sowing and reaping would cease; it was a time when so many of God's promises were displayed in the Jewish culture. 

Jubilee.  It's also the name of a place in Haiti.  A place right on the edge of the ocean on the outskirts of Gonaives.  It is a barren shoreline where crops aren't grown and where life of all kinds seems to have more challenges to survive. And this is where many of the children from our home are from.  This is where they were born, where they were raised, where they lost family, and where their remaining relatives are still found. 

It is a sprawling area of shacks built on salt flats that seem to flow right out to the ocean.  There is a huge concrete market building that stands empty and the sounds of the waves of the ocean bring to mind the potential for salty storm surges that threaten the fragile community. There are innumerable barefoot and naked little children wandering around Jubilee.  There are piles of garbage that flow out into the sea.  What once must have been a beautiful shoreline is now only fit for swine to bathe in.  There are roughly formed boats that carry fishermen out beyond the coastline in search of the day's catch. And there is poverty and need and brokenness and violence everywhere you turn.  Jubilee seems like such a cruel name for such a place as this.  From my outsider's perspective, there is little jubilee to be found here.

I've had a hard time processing through the realities of where my sweet kiddos come from.  It's hard to think about what their lives were like in Jubilee.  

And yet, as is always true of Him, God loves to work in the unexpected and the surprising.  In this poor and infamous community there is hope growing.  It comes in the form of opportunities and education and most of all, it comes in the form of Jesus' hands and feet on this earth.  There are people here, from within Haiti and from without, who are pouring out their lives to love and care and encourage and transform the community at Jubilee.

I can't say it any better than they do, so I'm going to share links to some of the different ministries who are working in Jubilee, Gonaives, and the surrounding areas: Much Ministries, Jubilee Kids, Coreluv.  As you have time and opportunity, I hope you'll explore these links and pray for the work being done to share Christ love and encourage the restoration and redemption and reconciliation that Jubilee is meant to be.

Much love in Christ, Jessie