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| Port au Prince, 2011 |
I'm not sure if it's just me, but I've been observing brokenness lately. Brokenness in relationships. Brokenness in physical bodies. Brokenness in troubled spirits and anxious minds. Brokenness of failed hopes and crushed dreams. Brokenness in corrupt and confused governments. Brokenness in divided and suspicious people. Some of this brokenness is close at hand. I'm keenly aware of the brokenness of my own nature which is so easily ruled by fear and pride, selfishness and anxiety. There are moments lately when the brokenness feels overwhelming and threatens to consume me.
Throughout this spring I have been eagerly planning for another summer in Haiti. Plans were more scattered than in past years, but the expectation that this summer would be spent in Haiti was something I took for granted. This would be my ninth summer in Haiti. My ninth summer of returning to a place that has become like a home to me. My ninth summer of reconnecting with missionary friends, working with Haitian teacher friends, and laughing with dear sweet children who are quickly becoming teenagers and young adults at this point. My ninth summer of building bridges, of connecting my Haiti home with my New Hampshire home and seeing God's universal Church busy about the work of living out gospel love.
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| The little ones enjoying sugar cane, 2012 |
Then more brokenness came in the form of broken economics and civil unrest. One opportunity for service after another seemed to slip through our fingers as my teacher friend Sarah and I tried to make plans for ministry in Haiti this summer. Missionaries were leaving Haiti or they felt uncertain about the safety of traveling in Haiti currently. Civil unrest increased during the month of June as manifestations in the streets were fueled by information about more brokenness in the government.
For me, in the midst of planning and expecting the gift of summer in Haiti, it was a time of frustration and confusion - a time of brokenness. I kept questioning God. I knew things were increasingly bad for my friends in Haiti. I knew that my presence couldn't really change the bad they continue to experience. But still, I wanted to be there, to enter into their suffering and let them know, you are not alone.
After prayers and searching, Sarah and I finally determined that God was closing the door to our ministry in Haiti this summer. I continue to feel the brokenness of this situation. I am mourning the loss of time spent with dear friends. I am feeling the brokenness of a loss of purpose found in ministering in that special place. I am struggling to make sense of the pain and suffering being experienced in Haiti in comparison to the ease and comfort experienced in my life here.
In the few weeks since we made this decision, I keep hearing bits and pieces of news from Haiti. Missionary friends and faithful ministries send newsletters with heartbreaking updates. The United Nations update from June 17 notes that the cost of living in Haiti has increased 23% in the past year, putting more than 2.6 million Haitians in a situation where daily food is uncertain. Those are 2.6 million mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, neighbors and friends, who are grappling with the persistent and increasing brokenness of hunger, of want, of uncertainty.
My friend, Hein, who directs the Matthew 28 Ministries in Bohoc, Haiti sent a very heartfelt plea to friends of the ministry explaining the desperation the people are feeling right now. Each month Matthew 28 provides 25,000 meals to hungry children in the rural areas around Bohoc. Because of the civil unrest, missionary and church groups are pulling out of Haiti and reinvesting their time and resources to other projects. In the same breath, though, Hein speaks hope into the brokenness and shares the joys of attending the preschool graduation this spring.
Just today I got news that 2nd Story Goods, one of the nonprofits that works to provide Haitians with the opportunity for skill development and the dignity of consistent work, had to close the doors of their shop in Port au Prince due to a marked decrease in foreign visitors. Even while they feel the loss of this opportunity in Port, the people at 2nd Story Goods speak words of hope and trust that God will open new doors for their organization to continue to support Haitian families.
Right now the civil unrest and economic crisis leave ministries and nonprofits in Haiti in an increasingly hard place. Even for those seeking to do good and love as Christ loves, still there is brokenness.
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| Wilderson, 2013 |
Their faith has feet and hands. It is active.
It leans into the most broken of circumstances in this life.
It's the kind of faith that empowers a brokenhearted Mom to keep serving even after her child is crushed in an earthquake.
It's the kind of faith that gives a young orphaned child the confidence to pray through their fears and sorrows.
It's the kind of faith that strengthens teachers to care for the needs of children in desperate situations in the hopes of seeing them thrive.
It's the kind of faith that sings songs of praise through the night.
It is this kind of faith that I have glimpsed in Haiti over and over again. It is the lesson of God's goodness and the ways in which we are called to trust in Him. This is what I am recalling from my summers in Haiti. It is the reminder that even in the brokenness we see glimpses of God's restoration at work.
Just as God gave Jeremiah a vision of restoration after the devastation of exile, so too God's word reminds us that no matter what brokenness we walk through, He is faithful, and we can join the voices of those who await the fullness of His restoration...
“Give thanks to the Lord of hosts,
for the Lord is good,
for his steadfast love endures forever!"
~Jeremiah 33:11
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| Sunset over Port au Prince, 2017 |
Thank you for following along with me on this unexpected summer far from Haiti. Thank you for praying with me for Haiti. Love in Christ, Jessie
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