The sounds of Haiti and the sounds in my Mind

The to do list is mounting. Emails, connecting with people, documenting meetings, creating structure, how the Heck are we going to get a lab started in our clinic? The to do list ranges from stapling new patient forms together to creating a sustainable structure and process for the Onaville Community Health Center.

I need to do yoga. I haven't exercises in week(s).

My favorite place in the house is the front porch. Yes, I'll do yoga there. No, I don't have a yoga mat (yes one is on the way, Thank you Aunt Laura). Jesus give me rest.

So I did yoga. And I listened. And I thanked God for exercise and ability. And I listened.

The sounds of Haiti are so different than the sounds in the US. Wind. The sound of the wind in Haiti blowing through the trees, blowing the dust off of the ground of this white town. The sound of tires crunching along the gravely, rocky ground. The sound of tap tap tires are very different from the sound of a big truck hauling concrete powder or sand. The sound of a child crying in the neighborhood. Everything is open air here due to the climate. You can hear what is going on in the neighborhood if you listen. The sound of children playing. Reginald and Liza are always at each other- they play and fight like brother and sister which is wonderful and often frustrating all at the same time. The sound of Charly working with an electric saw and drill to make me a curtain rod holder so that I can hang the black-out curtains my mom sent to me. (It's not quite as easy when you have to think of securing things in solid concrete walls). The sound of singing from the church in the neighborhood. The sound of people walking and talking in Kreyol. A dog barks, whines, chases goats who bleed for reprieve. A confused rooster crows. Oh how I hate roosters. They sound at all hours of the day, most hours when I'm trying to sleep. I actually am starting to get used to it which I find impressive. The sound of clothes drying in the wind, in the dusty wind. It's a wonder that people look so professional and put together here with the clothes drying in the dusty wind. I tell myself I won't forget the sounds of Haiti.

God give me your eyes and ears for this country. Show me how you see this beautiful country, how you see these people. Show me how you want to help these people, how you want to meet their needs, and how you want me to fit into that picture. What systems and processes can we set up that will help these people? First of all they need to know you. But not only know you God, but grow in relationship with you. Not just a superficial faith but one that is deep and real and stands the trials and tests that are part of the everyday in Haiti. God these people need education. How do we educate these people in the community? The people that come to the clinic can change their lives and their communities with simple disease and illness prevention. What program do I create that will do the job best, God? And God, our staff. God they are wonderful. God I want to bless them. I want them to know how much they are worth. I want them to know you deeply and share that with their patients. I want them to feel worthy and appreciated and valued. They've all been so abused. Women in Haiti do not have it easy. Each of them has been taken advantage of in one way or another and have still fought their way to where they are now. The doctors that work for us get harassing phone calls daily from a previous administrator, demanding favors. It enrages me.

God the to do list is mounting.

Reginald is sick today. He has a fever and a runny nose and a cough and all I can imagine is how much a 3 year old needs to be held and rocked to sleep by his mother when sick. And so I helped him wash his hands (like 5 times throughout the day), I fed him, I gave him some children's tylenol, I let him join me in the air conditioned office, and I rock him to sleep in my arms. He's pretty pathetic today. There's not much opportunity for a 3 year old without a mom to be sick or pathetic. But he gets to be sick in my arms today.

And while I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders to set up a greatly functioning, sustainable, expandable community health care center that blesses everyone that enters… God (and my sister) whisper - this is enough. You are enough. I am going to work with you and without you. I am so much bigger than you can ask or imagine. I will do things through you and also in spite of you. I have called you to Haiti and You. Are. There. You have a sick sleeping boy in your arms. Isn't that enough? Rest in Me. I am Enough. I am the Alpha and Omega. I am the Beginning and the End. I am God almighty. Rest, step back, and watch Me work. Oh, and take it one step at a time.