Now

I woke up teary and with a familiar heartache this morning.  This was my view yesterday...

I'm spending a few weeks with my sister and niece in Philadelphia.  It's a good place to stop and process a summer in Haiti.  Every year my heart and mind go through a kind of grieving process as I leave my summer home.  I think about silly habits like using a flashlight to check the floor for roaches before getting out of bed at night, or the ways we conserve water with such care.  I dream about Haitian mangoes and bananas.  I even miss the sleep-interrupting, all-night church services and the constant choir of human and animal voices that echo around the city. I miss the street markets and the sounds of chaotic and genius traffic patterns on those dusty city streets.  I find myself missing these kinds of things because they represent a place that is very dear to me.  It has been seven years since I first visited the school and children's home in Delmas, Port au Prince and I don't think my heart will ever feel completely at home in any one place again.  

This homesickness is something I think we can probably all relate to - maybe your first sleep-away camp as a child or when your family left you for your freshmen year of college, or when you said goodbye to a loved one at their graveside.  It's hard to have planted your feet and started to grow roots only to be like a tree that's being dug up and replanted elsewhere.  It's shocking and painful and can either help foster growth or can cause the tree to struggle and wither.

I'm reflecting on this familiar homesick feeling and wondering if it's more than just feeling the loss and separation from a beloved place and people.  When I'm in Haiti I have flashes of the same feeling, longing for familiar places and people back in New Hampshire.  Or sometimes, I'll be going through everyday life and I'll pass by someone who looks vaguely like a loved one who is gone and my heart twinges with the same ache.  It's like my heart never truly is able to take root because whenever it starts to feel settled, it's time to be transplanted again.  It's time for change.  It's time to feel homesick again - for a time or a place or a person that's not here and now.

This summer I was given the opportunity to lead morning devotions for my teacher friends at Christian Light School.  They are the dearest people to me - we share a common faith and a common calling as teachers.  It was a treat to start each morning together singing and praying and sharing God's good news with each other.  With the elementary teachers, we talked about what it means to live as a Christian in this world.  We know that we aren't Home yet, not in the fullest, most powerful, most beautiful sense of the word.  Our home is with our Maker and Sustainer and Redeemer.  Our home is at peace with each other.  Our home is free from the brokenness of pain and death and fighting and mourning.  For now though, we have a home and a people we are called to live in the midst of - as sojourners and exiles (1 Peter 2).  We talked about how we are called to live in unity and diversity as "the body" - the church.  We are called to love, as we have been loved by God.  We are called to live with generosity and welcome for one another and strangers.  We are called to live humbly, with self-forgetfulness and without pride.  And we are called to live speaking truth to each other.  

Each morning the teachers shared about their experiences in this life of faith and I was consistently encouraged and inspired.  They are living with roots dug deeply into this not-quite-home land.  They are reaching neighbors by extending welcome and generosity.  They are caring for their students with parental-like love and concern.  They are strengthening their communities by empowering young minds to excel.  And they are faithful to trust God even when life is uncertain.  The faith of these teacher friends makes me want to live this life so differently.  To live not ruled by fear or pride or regret or worry. To live instead by faith.

And so now, I'm praying for God to show me how I can live each day in these same ways.  Whether it be in Port au Prince or New Hampshire, to live like I'm home and to take each moment and each opportunity to live out grace and truth.  I don't have any clear vision of what this will look like next week or next month or next year, but I think that's okay...

Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit"- yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that." - James 4:13-15

For now, in this "mist" of a life, I'm going to dwell in this homesickness for a while - homesickness for my friends and my kiddos and my life in Haiti, but even more than that, homesickness for God.  And I'm praying that this homesickness might allow me to live more faithfully and more fully - with love and truth and grace and peace now.

If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. ~ C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity, Book III, chapter 10, “Hope”

Thank you for following along with me on another summer in Haiti.  I'm so thankful to be able to share this journey!  Much love in Christ, Jessie

Slip

I like to wander.  I like to run and walk and hike and explore long mountain paths and country roads.  I like going with friends or going alone.  It helps my mind to settle after a long day of work and in moments of stress, I find comfort in praying and crying out to God as I run along.  One of the challenges of being in the middle of a Haitian city is not having paths to wander along.  This city isn't an ideal place for running - the roads are rocky and uneven and full of roaming goats and stray dogs and mounds of garbage.  I've tried running with a crew of the older children from the home who are in need of training for their soccer team.  Aside from the physical obstacles, the experience usually ends with some awkward amounts of attention from the neighbors as we run by.  On more than one occasion random strangers would just start running with us - this crazy, frackled white lady and her teenaged friends... And so, to maintain my routine of wandering, I've taken to waking up early to run in circles around the school.  

I run up and down the stairs and around the corridors.  In the pre-dawn hours it is quiet and peaceful (with the exception of the mornings when I turn a corner to be greeted by a started roach or a grumpy rodent).  It's not like the joy of wandering along a path in the woods, but it's enough to just be able to place one foot in front of the other for a while.  I'm even greeted by the beauty of the sunrise over Port au Prince.

Some mornings after a hard rain, the cement floor will become slick.  My sneakers will slide a little with each step as I make circles around the school grounds.  Last night, during a particularly heavy rainstorm, the twin sons of Madame Jacqueline (the housekeeper/cook) were enjoying the rain by turning the corridors into their own slip-and-slide.  You can just make out Evenson and Gevenson's arms and legs sliding by, but this photo doesn't capture the giggles and shouts in the middle of the downpour!

As I've been making circles around the school in the early morning this week, I've been reflecting on footsteps and the paths we talk in this life of faith.  I've been thinking about all of the missteps that I am prone to take in life.  Times when I say hurtful things or fail to keep promises or refuse to follow the path God has laid out for me.  As my wayward heart and mind guide me, I recognize how easy it is for me to slide away from the path that God has set before me.  I feel like Paul, the steps I don't want to take are so often where my feet land, while the footsteps I want to take seem impossible to step into.

In class this week as Lourna (pictured above with her cup tower challenge) prayed to thank God for the breakfast meal, she made a comment that struck me.  "...And thank you for letting the foot of the cook to not slip when she carried the food to our classroom..."  It sounded a little funny to me.  In the middle of this very heartfelt prayer of this sweet 12 year old girl, my imagination grinned.  Lourna was demonstrating such a big understanding of the sovereignty of God.  In her mind, God was literally directing the footsteps of the cook as she carried the tray of breakfast food up the stairs and to our classroom.  And so, she thanked God for letting those feet to step safely and not slip. 

Oh that I could have this same understanding of the sovereignty of God!  That I would entrust every footstep, every decision, every fear, every joy, every hope, every desire, every disappointment, every opportunity, everything to the God who loves me and made me and saved me!

Tonight I'm meditating on how often God has not allowed my feet to slip, even when I'm wearing the shoes of doubt and fear and pride.  I'm praying for a heart that embraces the Word of God and feet that won't slip, but are firmly set in Him.

Blessed is the one who finds wisdom, and the one who gets understanding...

My son, do not lose sight of these- keep sound wisdom and discretion, 

and they will be life for your soul and adornment for your neck.  

Then you will walk on your way securely, 

and your foot will not stumble. 

If you lie down, you will not be afraid; 

when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet. 

Do not be afraid of sudden terror or of the ruin of the wicked, when it comes, 

for the LORD will be your confidence and will keep your foot from being caught.  

- Proverbs 3

Thank you for following along with me on this summer's journey in Haiti!  Much love in Christ, Jessie

With

Working with fifth grade this summer has been a treat.  My class is (generally) well behaved, hard-working and very clever.  They are fun and creative and have wonderful senses of humor.  We work each morning on our reading comprehension in English, with a break for hands-on science or art activities and a French lesson in reading and conversation.  The other morning when a few of our number were running late for school, we took a little time out for an impromptu photo shoot.  "Wait Miss Jessica!  Just one more photo!"  As you can see, these almost-sixth graders thoroughly enjoyed posing for pictures!

One student who has not been attending very regularly this summer is a little girl named Fedna.  Her classmates explained to me that her family said that she wouldn't be coming back to school. In a place where natural disasters and poverty can lead to changes in living circumstances all the time, I honestly didn't think too much of the story.  There are other names on our list who haven't been able to attend summer school for various reasons.  But the story of Fedna not being with us is one that I want to share...

Sometimes the needs and confusion and complexity of the situation in Haiti can feel overwhelming.  Every summer I spend here, I get to meet new friends who are working on amazing projects of hope and restoration.  One of the programs that I want to highlight is the Restavek Freedom Organization (https://restavekfreedom.org/).  In 2011 there was a special news program highlighting the work of the Restavek Freedom Organization to end the childhood slavery problem in Haiti (see the link below).  Known as "restaveks," which translates "to stay or rest with," these children currently number between 200,000 and 300,000.  They work as domestic servants, often living with distant relatives or complete strangers and are generally not given access to education.  They are assigned the tasks of collecting water, selling goods, cooking, and house-keeping and work without pay.  The history of restaveks in Haiti is long and complicated.  At one point, it was a common practice for families living in the remote provinces to send their children to relatives or friends or friends-of-friends in the city so they could have access to education and better opportunities.  Overtime this system has become a form of exploitation and modern-day slavery.  

In addition to the nearly 300 students who attend normal schooling at Christian Light School, there are also about 50 children who attend an afternoon program specifically designed for children in restavek situations.  Christian Light School has been partnering with the Restavek Freedom Organization to find children in need of access to education and work with advocates to persuade families to allow children to attend school.  We recently got to view the end-of-school celebration for these afternoon classes.  It was so exciting to watch these children behave like children!  They participated in a spelling bee, had a dance competition, and took turns singing for the audience.  Knowing that many of their lives have been characterized by exploitation, it was priceless to see them enjoying the simple treasures of schooling and fun and learning.  Gifts which I can find easy to take for granted.  

This week a camera crew came to Christian Light School to film an interview with the little Fedna who has been inconsistently attending our fifth grade summer school.  I hadn't realized until the camera crew arrived that the bright, shy little girl who had started the summer with us was one of the children featured in the 2011 documentary about restaveks.  Apparently Fedna did so well in the afternoon courses sponsored by the Restavek Freedom Organization that she was able to join in the full schooling program at Christian Light.  From what I've heard, there are some complicated dynamics with the home situation which are threatening to take Fedna away from access to schooling once again.  As you think of her, please pray that Fedna would be able to stay with her classmates, to stay with her school, to stay with her advocate and teachers and friends - that she would be able to rest here with those who want to protect her from a life of exploitation and slavery.  This desire to see enslaved and persecuted people go free is the heart of Jesus...

 "'The spirit of the Lord is upon me,

Because he has anointed me

To proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives

And recovering of sight to the blind,

To set at liberty those who are oppressed,

To proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.'

And he rolled up the scroll and gave it back to the attendant and sat down.  And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him.  And he began to say to them 'Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.'"  ~ Luke 4:18-21

Many thanks for following along with me on this summer in Haiti!  Much love in Christ, Jessie

Common Dreams Documentary from 2011- featuring the Restavek Freedom Project and Christian Light School:

http://thecnnfreedomproject.blogs.cnn.com/2011/12/01/watch-the-common-dreams-documentary/ 

Conflict

This afternoon we got to go visit Pastor Dari and his wife who run a children's home for children with special needs.  In Haiti where life is complicated and families will often find the task of providing for the basic needs of families a difficult task, there is a cloud surrounding the treatment and care of those who have special needs.  Often ostracized in the culture and at times abandoned in childhood, those with special needs can have a difficult time getting access to the support they need.  I've heard some people say that Haitians sometimes attribute disabilities to voodoo and use this as a reason to mistreat those who most need help.

We went to visit Pastor Dari's home to take photos of the children to start a sponsorship program in order to get the children access to schooling and to help care for their medical needs.  It was a short visit of taking photos and writing down names and ages and medical needs for each child.  I wish we could have spent the whole day with these sweet little ones, showing them the love and attention that they have not always known in their short lives.  

My friend Amber, who is partnering with Pastor Dari, explained that most of the children have very traumatic histories.  One of the youngest children who recently joined the home was in a little walker when we entered the gate.  She explained that he was rescued from a trash can.  It's enough to make your heart break as you hold his little hand and think of the beauty and value of this life.  Your heart breaks as you think about the mothers and fathers and families and communities who believe that they can't care for such precious little ones.  It makes me so thankful for people like Pastor Dari and his wife who are confronted with a need and step out in love and faith to meet it.  

One of the reasons that we weren't able to stay for a longer visit is because of the landlord of the current property where the children are staying.  Since special needs and disabilities are not understood or respected here, it has been difficult for Pastor Dari to find a stable home situation for the children.  The current landlord recently moved back onto the property and is trying very hard to get the children to move out.  I was told that he has taken to walking around the property carrying his gun just to intimidate the children and nannies who are caring for them.  He has even refused the admit visitors onto the property recently.  With this kind of conflict, Pastor is again searching for a place for the children to call home.  

We took the Pastor and his wife to look at a new home they are hoping to start renting in the next few weeks. It looked like it would suit their needs well, as soon as some repairs can be completed.  The landlord has even been very welcoming about the fact that they would be caring for children with special needs on the property.  It all felt very encouraging and hopeful on the drive over to the house.  

As we wandered from room to room and around the yard, we started to hear shouting.  The Pastor and his wife had gotten into a heated discussion with a neighbor who overheard talk about the possibility of a children's home moving into the neighborhood.  He was shouting and threatening them and saying that he would call the police to come and send them away if they tried to move the children onto the property.

I couldn't help but feel discouraged.  Just when it seemed like they had found a good situation with a welcoming landlord and a comfortable facility to care for the needs of the children, now another point of conflict has arisen.  And so, I'm writing this blog to ask for you to pray.  Please pray for Pastor Dari and his wife to have courage and wisdom in their search for a new home and to continue in the grace and compassion they have been showing towards these children.  Please pray for the hearts of these little ones to be soft and trusting of those who are trying to care for them now.  Please pray for the practical needs like medication and clothing and food.  And please pray for the truth of the gospel to break into this situation so fraught with conflict.  

Before we said goodbye, we gathered together and the children sang a few songs for us.  One little boy with a particularly handsome little smile has taken on the role of "song leader."  His little voice echoes in my mind as I write, "This is the day that the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it..."  

Thank you for following along on this summer in Haiti.  If you're interested in learning about ways to get involved in supporting Pastor Dari and his work with these children, their information should be online at the Don Shire Ministries site sometime this fall: http://www.donshireministries.org/sponsor.html. 

Much love in Christ, Jessie

Kingdom

We got to go to the mountains this weekend.  I was more excited than I can say!  Although I do sincerely love my time working at the school in Port au Prince, with the students and teachers, and visiting with the children at the home, I get weary of spending the whole summer in the middle of a city in the middle of a valley.  My heart longs for forests and mountains and my legs ache to wander along paths through the countryside.  When I get back home to New Hampshire, I'm looking forward to seeing family and friends, but I'm also looking forward to reconnecting with the beautiful places in God's creation - trails that wind along familiar mountainsides, by streams and hidden lakes - the beautiful places that I get to call home.  For now, though, I'm thankful for a chance to visit the mountains of Haiti, if only for a little while...

As I was reflecting on the beauty of the mountains today, and still enjoying savoring that view,  I went to church and heard the second sermon in a series about God's work in our memories.  Since hearing the first sermon last week, I had been looking forward to this sermon almost as much as I had been looking forward to the time on the mountaintop!  

The sermon was preached by a visiting pastor who has lived and worked in Haiti in some non-traditional ministry settings.  As this long-haired, tattooed preacher with a quirky sense of humor, a great appreciation for art, and an academic approach to preaching shared, I was challenged to look at grace in a new way.  It was a much needed reminder in a season when I can sometimes lose sight of grace.  

Honestly, I can sometimes find it hard to navigate the very different approaches to Christianity that I find in the missionaries that I meet here.  From my perspective, it sometimes seems like working hard, being "good," belonging to a certain political party or cultural background, or even holding a certain philosophical perspective on missions seem to be more important to some of the missionaries than grace and love and hospitality.  I can find my heart hardening as I hear people who claim the name of Christ judging one another for the way they dress or the ways they spend their money or time or how they approach ministry.  In a place where it seems there isn't always an abundance of grace and love and humility, my own heart jumps into the chaos.  I think I know the ways things should really be going.  I know how these people could get along.  I know how they should solve the problems in their ministries and communities.  And then I hear a sermon like today's and I remember that it's not about building my kingdom either.  My heart, just like everyone around me, is full of a feisty self-sufficiency and proud independence.  I want to make my own way.  I want to do things the way I want to do them.  I want to be the judge.

Sitting in church today and listening to the sermon was exactly what I needed.  It didn't solve the problem of pride and my frustration in working with those who are coming from a different perspective, but it did remind me of the bigger story that's being told.  This life isn't about building my kingdom, or your kingdom, it's about God building His kingdom.  And He does it in the most beautiful and gracious and loving ways!

The sermon was all about how God cares about our memories.  There were many different illustrations to prove this point, including the ways poetry in the Bible was written to be memorized and highlights key themes by repeating them.  We heard about cairns, the rock formations that God called His people to build as physical memorials to His work in their lives.  We also talked about how God brings us back to the same hurts and fears and challenges over and over again to draw us to Himself -

"We worship what we fear.  Sometimes a walk towards the place of our pain and fear is the very act of trusting God again.  It can be a return to the place you left God behind or the cross he once asked you to bear."

As we wandered through the landscape of the Old Testament, we saw how God takes individuals and families and brings them back to circumstances where they are trying to build their own kingdom and graciously tears them down.  We talked about Jacob who was born as a sneaky "ankle-grabber" trying to steal from his brother through clever tricks.  Then we followed the kingdom of self later into the story where Jacob's father-in-law uses the same kinds of tricks on the trickster himself.  In the end, we saw how Jacob, finally confronting the wrongs he had done to his brother, has a fight in the desert.  He thinks he is facing his brother, who is making good on his promise of violence against his sneaky little brother, but he is actually wrestling with God.  It's not a story of Jacob's kingdom versus Esau's, it's a story of God looking at the hearts of men and loving us.  It's about a God who is in the business of restoring all of His creation to Himself.  Sometimes this story looks like a battle.

So, although I'm certain to still have struggles with God's kingdom coming in my life, I'm feeling hopeful.  I'll still struggle with pride and independence and fear, but this struggle is evidence of God's work in my heart.  He's breaking down the kingdom I have built and creating His own kingdom.  He's doing this in such loving and gracious ways.  He even gives moments of perspective when we get to see His work, like the view from the summit when the clouds break.  And so as I thank God for friends and family who follow along with me on another Haiti journey, here's my prayer for my heart and your heart too... His kingdom come, His will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Much love in Christ, Jessie

Discriminate

NOTE: I don't really have any photos that correspond to this post, as they would be photos of passionate discussion and debate between the Haitian teachers, and probably not the most happy photos to look at... So, instead I'm just going to interject some of the beautiful sights of Port-au-Prince.

Haiti has a really complicated history.  I wish I knew and understood more of the history of this place, but for all of the books I've bought and never finished, I still don't have a good picture in my mind of the journey that took Haiti from French slave colony to the place I visit every summer.

One thing I do know about Haiti is that it was the place of the first successful slave revolt against European colonists.  As a pastor I heard recently said, "We are proud of that.  Nobody else did what we did."

For all the national pride that comes with recognizing the freedom from the enslavement and mistreatment of the French colonists, there is also much discontent and argument over the current state of Haiti.  From questions about how universities accept students to how the government restricts and regulates access to electricity to the inconsistent distribution of support for reconstruction efforts, this is a place where people have a lot to disagree about.  For an American, this feels pretty familiar!  

Today during the secondary teacher training, we hit on one of these subjects of debate.  Officially, Haiti has two languages - Haitian Creole and French.  This simple statement is made vastly more complicated by the cultural and historical weight that these languages hold.  I've talked with Haitian friends who share about how much more respectful French is in Haiti today.  "If you're going to meet your girlfriend's family for the first time, you must speak to them in French.  It shows you are educated and intelligent."  Other friends are equally passionate about Creole.  "It's the language of our freedom, our independence, our country."

And so, as the secondary teachers were going over their Code of Conduct for the coming school year, the question of language was brought up.  The government officials who have been monitoring the school, as well as the school director and the administration all say that the secondary teachers are supposed to be teaching all of their content in French.  For the sake of reason, this makes perfect sense.  French is one of the official languages of the country and is the language in which students must take their government exams in the 6th, 9th, and 13th years of school. 

But we know that reason doesn't end a debate when heart and conscience and conviction are involved.  And so, this afternoon I sat through one of the more heated debates I've experienced with the teachers.  Through my own weak French and Creole listening skills, I gathered that some of the teachers were convinced that teaching the students exclusively in French was wrong.  "Their heart language is Creole."  "They imagine in Creole."  "Their families and friends and neighbors only speak Creole."  And on the other side was the rational arguments of government mandates and practices.

I was interested in the discussion as a bystander, but didn't have a strong opinion either way.  Logic and passion both had good points to make in the discussion.  

And then one of the teachers said it was discriminatory to tell Haitian teachers and children that they must speak and learn only in French.  With that one word, discriminate, my heart and mind jumped into motion.  Social justice and caring for those who are mistreated or devalued is at the heart of my faith.  I love that Jesus was the Savior who touched those who were considered "unclean."  He socialized with people who had been outcast by "respectable society."  He looked at the needs of those around Him with compassion and concern and He acted on these feelings.  He showed grace and mercy on those in need and went against social norms so much of the time.

Although this statement meant something different to me, as an outsider and one who knows little about the historical baggage that was carried into the discussion, I was still spurred on.  I wanted to hear the teachers find a compromise.  I wanted them to take this messy situation of history and language and cultural biases and turn it into something full of grace and beauty.

But, it didn't happen.  We left the meeting with "the government says, and so we must" as the final word.  It was a logical conclusion.  But it didn't seem, at least to me, to affirm the fears and hurts that were being expressed by some of the teachers in the room.  It left the debate hanging in the air, stinky and unsettling.  And we fled the room to get away from the smell.

And now I'm left thinking about my cultural context and the times when America is a jumbled mix of history and cultural biases and words like discriminate make their way into the conversation.  I'm recognizing as I get older and a little less op-too-much-istic, that there isn't a simple solution to these debates either. 

I don't think we can just wave a magic wand or say some "just right" words and the problems will go away.  However, I do think that Christians can take initiative to follow Jesus' example in our culture.  I'm praying for opportunities to be stuck in debates and conflicts like this in my own culture and praying for wisdom and grace to know how to lean in and love like Jesus.

For now, I'm thankful for this time in Haiti and how God uses it to shift things in my heart and mind.  I'm thankful too for friends and family who follow along on this journey with me!  Much love in Christ, Jessie

Confession

This summer I get to work with the Haitian teachers at Christian Light School again.  I start every morning doing devotions with them.  Then at noon, after I finish working with my fifth graders and walk them out of the school yard, I've been jumping back in on the teacher training most days.  The school has gone through some difficult transitions over the past year and the Ministry of Education has been working with the staff to make sure that everything is up to their standards to ensure that the school can stay certified.  

Here is the new administrative team: Mrs. Rosemee, Mr. Olritch, and Mr. Elionel.  They would appreciate your prayers as they seek to lead the school in this time of transition!

The training with the official from the ministry has been very productive over the past week and a half.  The secondary teachers have been working on lesson planning, writing objectives, and thinking about the different aspects of a classroom which they need to manage (the physical space, the supplies and materials, the classroom environment, behavioral expectations, content, etc.).  I'm sorry to not be more involved with teacher training this summer, but after five years of running the training program for the Haitian staff, it's nice to be sitting with them and talking through the content together as colleagues.  Even the new teachers are very welcoming of this outsider, for which I am very thankful.

This week I am leading the devotions for the teachers in the morning.  We sit together and sing and talk about the life of faith.  We are working our way through parts of the Heidelberg Catcheism, which I hope is helpful in building up a more robust doctrine in these teachers who identify themselves as Christians.

In Port-au-Prince, as in many parts of Haiti, the culture has been saturated with Christianity.  The public transportation "tap taps" are painted with Praise Jesus in bright, bold letters.  When passing people on the street and someone asks how you are doing, a common response to be heard is "With God, I am fine."  But for all of this religious talk and "Christian-ese", I'm afraid that many people here, just like at home, are holding to a mixture of tradition and superstition and good works to find their hope.  The only problem with this is that tradition and superstition and good works can't give us true, lasting hope.  In the end we feel discouraged with our failures, confused by difficult or painful circumstances, and fearful of what the future might bring.

So this week we are asking questions like The Lords' Day 1:

"What is your only comfort in life and in death?

That I am not my own

But I belong, body and soul, both in life and in death

To my faithful savior Jesus Christ.

He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood

And has set me free from all the power of the devil.

He also preserves me in such a way

That without the will of my Heavenly Father

Not a hair can fall from my head.

Indeed, all things work together for my good.

Therefore, by his Holy Spirit,

He also assures me of eternal life

And makes me heartily willing and ready from now on to live for him."

Many thanks for following along with this summer in Haiti!  Love in Christ, Jessie

Devotion

In class we start each morning with "devotions."  We are following along with the book Thoughts to Make Your Heart Sing, which I recommend for children (and big kids too!)

The other day during this time, we asked the question, "What is love?"  The students gave some really sweet answers.  "Love is when you want to make someone smile."  "Love is when you help someone."  "Love is when you sacrifice for someone."  The devotion follows this question with a really beautiful summary of the nature of God, who is love.

Another day last week we read the following devotion entitled But God-

"Those two little words are the most important in the Bible.  They show up 3,930 times.

When everything looks like it's over.  When there's no hope- but God!

God does something.  He turns it all around.  Those words are like a fire truck rounding the corner.  Help is on the way!

Adam and Eve left the garden.  'But God whispered a promise to them.'

A flood was coming.  'But God remembered Noah.'

We were helpless.  'But God showed his great love for us by sending Jesus.'

Whatever is happening in your life today - look up!  Help is on the way!

'My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart.' Psalm 76:23"

These times of "devotion" are sweet moments to talk about God and the life of faith together.  I'm recognizing though that the term devotion has very little to do with our attitude toward God and much more describes His commitment to us...

Sherdley was our "Star of the Day" on Friday!

Thursday was the first rough patch in our little fifth grade class.  I had a few students who kept teasing each other.  One started pinching and hitting others and my teacher disciplinarian mode kicked in.  I marched him down to the school director (who happens to also be a police officer and is a fairly intimidating person for a naughty kiddo to have to face). It turned out that the director was occupied elsewhere, so I worked with the student to write a letter to him explaining what he had done, why it was wrong, and what he planned to do in the future.  

Honestly, I don't know if this was the best course of action.  In my school in New Hampshire with students and families I know well and a culture I understand, I usually know what course of action to take when faced with behavior challenges in the classroom.  Here though, where I don't understand all the subtleties of the culture and miss a great deal because of language divides, I'm second guessing how I can help a wayward child.  I know that allowing children to act out in anger or to behave hurtfully toward someone else isn't helping them.  I know that turning a blind eye to these kinds of sinful heart attitudes isn't going to draw them closer to the God who is love.  There was a moment during our "processing" when I was stopped short.  I asked the child if he thought it was wrong to tease, hit, and pinch others.  He said it was.  When I asked him why, he couldn't explain why.  Finally we got to the point where he could recognize that when someone teases him it can make him cry.  "Should we hurt others?  Should we make them cry?"  

My questions were stiff and forced.  What I wanted was a moment when the heart of this little boy would recognize that his actions are marking and denting and scratching up the hearts of those he mistreats.  Instead I was met with a child who didn't junderstand what I was saying, even if he did comprehend the definition of the words I was speaking.  

In usually concerned-teacher-form, I spent the rest of Thursday night brooding and praying over this one student.  I talked with the other summer school teachers who had some good words of advice and encouragement.  I brainstormed behavior plans and classroom management tools I could try.  In the end though, I was left knowing that there is honestly little I can do to change the heart attitude behind the behaviors.  

I entered Friday morning prepared with a new seating arrangement for the class as well as some positive incentives for those who were following along with our agreed upon classroom contract.  I fear that sometimes classroom management can help to create a room full of hypocrites whole follow the rules but don't have a heart of obedience or respect.  I pushed forward hopeful but also cautious.

But God...

As the morning went on, we stopped to have a talk about respect.  I asked the students to share what respect looks like and feels like to them.  It was good to hear many different ideas represented in the classroom.  Then one of the students asked me what I thought respect looked like and felt like.  I shared honestly that I was sad and worried about a classroom where students hurt and tease each other.  I said that a classroom where there is respect will look like love- like the God we've been studying about.

It wasn't like a magic switch flipped, but I did see an increased awareness of the need to love and respect those around us in the classroom.  For the rest of the day, the kids would check in with me to see if thy were being respectful.  Even my friend with the challenges on Thursday responded well to redirection during the day.

And so, I'm reflecting on last week and planning for the coming week of summer school.  I have my lesson plans in order and know the content I want to cover in reading comprehension and vocabulary.  But I also know what I want to talk about - about God's devoted, never-giving up, always faithful, constant love for us.  I want to have more opportunities to point these kiddos back to God and remind them that He is love, He is the "but God" we can put our hope in.

Many thanks for following along with me on this summer's journey in Haiti!  Much love in Christ, Jessie