Rachel Zimmerman

This week I’ve gotten to spend probably 1-2 hours in the late afternoon laying in the hammock or sitting on the porch. I think this is the way life was back in the day, sitting on the porch and visiting with neighbors. What has happened to this? Let me tell you, it’s awesome. My day does not feel complete if I do not watch the sunset. Every day it’s beautiful, breath-taking, and completely different. Every day God paints a picture in the sky and beckons us to stop, to still ourselves, and appreciate the show He is putting on for us. Same with the thunderstorms around here. They are magnificent displays of God’s power and majesty. I can just see him waving his hand and a huge lightning bolt darts across the sky followed by a thunderclap. One thing I noticed while watching a thunderstorm is the lightning is so bright that I have to close my eyes as a result. How magnificent. How wonderful and powerful. Awe. In the states I remember appreciating a sunset but usually from my car dri...

When I'm in America this is the word I often feel: distracted. People ask me about the differences between Haiti and the US. It's hard to sum up in a few sentences. Because Haiti is so tragically impoverished and broken. And yet, they are not nearly as distracted as we are. I think America is impoverished (in spirit) and broken, just in different ways. We're distracted by our phones, by our cars, by our Sonic & Starbucks, entertainment, shopping, schedule and to-do list and the chasing of all the things our society tells us we should seek and acquire. In Haiti the distractions are taken away. The hustle and bustle is taken away. The internet is slow. I don't leave the compound on a daily basis. The electricity turns off and there's not much to do. I'm forced (and I've learned to embrace) sitting and resting and looking at the mountains over Port au Prince. (I actually get very disappointed now if I don't stop and watch the sunset each evening). ...

Everyone in a foreign country needs a Duckenson. Duckenson has been my 'right hand man' since day 1. I don't know if 'right-hand man' is the right phrase. Duckenson is a friend, a deeply committed friend, and my Haitian brother. Duckenson has been with me since the beginning. Since I didn't know a lick of Kreyol. When I knew painfully little about missions. When I didn't know how to help without hurting. When I didn't know how to communicate or cultural norms (that's still a struggle). Duckenson drove me around Haiti for the first 6 months I was here. Duckenson has lived through me asking someone 'Do you have to poop?' instead of 'Do you have a bathroom?' -- yes that was just a few days ago... : / Duckenson has been around for tears, anger, loneliness, pain, and oh the frustration. I don't know what expats/humanitarians/missionaries do without the Duckenson's and Charly's of the world. I have so much to be thankfu...

My eyes have been opened. And there's no going back. There's no more 'fitting in' to the world as I knew it... my world as I knew it. And it's scary and terrifying and liberating. There's no unseeing the poverty of the world and moving back to the states doesn't make the suffering in the world disappear. It's often too much to bear good thing it's not my job to carry it But I'm thrilled and privileged to be part of the solution to be doing something to be contributing to be leading and loving to be... just be to be doing the most purposeful work of my life to be learning (oh so much learning) to be living out the calling I've felt since childhood The experiences in our life shape us We have the opportunity to learn in any situation and boy is this shaping me and man am I soaking in all I can growth can be hard and painful but oh so beautiful My eyes have been opened God give me the strength to keep them open giv...

I expect myself to learn a lesson once and move on. ...unfortunately this is rarely the way life works. It seems we continue coming back to our hurts, habits, and hang ups and learn and fail and make mistakes, and learn again.. the continual squiggly, circling, looping line that we would like to be a perfectly straight upward angle to "arrival." This is what 'carrying a load' looks like for me: I get grumpy. My language gets a bit foul. I get cynical. I have less patience than usual. I'm more irritable and a little emotional. I get frustrated when people 'need' me for things. I don't want to be asked for something. I shut down when a friend expresses her problem or concern to me because I just can't face one more problem/need/situation. When I'm able to step back and take a look at how I got to this point, I realize I'm trying to do God's job. I'm carrying a load I was never asked to carry. I am carrying PAIN I was never ask...

You make beautiful things. You make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things. You make beautiful things out of us. (Gungor- Beautiful Things) He gives beauty for ashes Strength for fear Gladness for mourning Peace for despair (Crystal Lewis- Beauty for Ashes) God creates beauty out of the impossible, doesn't he? I'm so thankful to be in a season of joy, happiness, peace, and rest. My first 6 months on the mission field (like many I've talked to) was full of work, disenchantment, burn out, anger, broken promises, misplaced expectations, and near depression. My heart broke for the country of Haiti, for the people I work with, and for myself as I tried to work my way out of an impossible situation and task. There were times when my heart was so angry and times when I asked God if He was sure He had called me to this task or if I had misheard him. Instead tending to my own needs and heart-ache, I just kept working and trying to tend to the n...

I feel like I’m stuck between two worlds. My heart is in Haiti but my heart is home too- in the states, with my friends, and with my family. The question is—will I ever be able to go home the same? No. I’ll never be the same. I will always take this experience with me. The lessons I’ve learned, the things I’ve experienced. I won’t be able to return to the US and live a ‘normal’ life chasing the American dream. I will always be connected to Haiti in some way. My second home. My heart for this country. The beauty in the people, the beaches, the faith, the perseverant, steadfast nature of those around me. I feel like I’m stuck between two worlds. Half of my heart is here in my current home. I am giving all I can here. I am trying to be courageous every day. I am leading and loving to the best of my ability—and it’s hard. Every day it’s hard. But I miss my family. I miss my friends. Home isn’t perfect… don’t get me wrong. Home is full of close, personal pain and sorrow. And if I was t...