The Mountain Blocks the Rain
Upon arrival in Haiti, we drove from the Port au Prince airport to our staff housing site. Driving through the chaos that is Haitian traffic is an adventure in and of itself. Rubble has been piled into the medians and any open side street to clear way for the motorbikes, cars, trucks, construction vehicles and the like. It’s loud, polluted and disorganized, but it’s functional.
As we dodged oncoming traffic and pedestrians, we scanned the horizon and crowded streets to take it all in. Portions of town genuinely are destroyed. Buildings in various stages of collapse (one of the biggest issues they’re having is where buildings that have started to collapse are continuing to collapse.
One of the first things you notice, however, is the heat.
Wow, it is hot… and humid.
Growing up in the south and living a summer in New Orleans, humidity is nothing new to me. The sweating just comes with the territory. Our five day trip wasn’t long enough to completely acclimate so we sweat, and sweat, and sweat. Showers (even freezing cold ones) offer only temporary relief from the inferno and so you learn quickly that the more you exert yourself, the more you’ll sweat.
The rain is bittersweet. It rained literally every day. Sometimes it was a torrential downpour, sometimes it was a steady mist. But every day we saw it. The rain means the relentless temperature drops ever so slightly as the earth is cooled and the sun is blocked. However, the rain means the humidity skyrockets. It’s a trade off but one we appreciated on particularly hot days.
On that first bus ride, however, we drove south around the port. As we drove away from the airport we looked behind us and saw a mountain behind us. It’s not far, you can see some details of some villages and even forests and rocks if you look close. The city of PAP is at sea level being right on the port and even though the mountain isn’t that tall, the clouds obscured it’s tips.
Without meaning anything deeper than the words he said, the staff who escorted us to the base casually remarked how the mountain would block most of the rain unless (and until) the clouds just got too backed up and started rolling over their crests. And once they did, the rain would begin.
Think About It
The mountain blocks the rain. Isn’t that exactly what’s been done in Haiti. The rain of the Spirit, the gift of the Father has hit an obstacle. A veritable mountain of voodoo, of religious prostitution. The rain was willing, but the mountain was tall.
However, eventually, the clouds build up. The prayers multiply, the intercession increases, the power of the clouds simply cannot be held back any more and they spill over the very obstacle created to hold it back. And with it comes the rain.
The precious, life-giving rain. The rain that cools, that shades, that cleanses, that causes things to grow again.
It’s raining in Haiti. A physical rain, yes, but a spiritual rain. A rain that was no longer held back, that was no longer obstructed. In an almost laughable display, it overcame the mountain that never really had the power to stave the clouds off…just slowed it down. But once the rains are released – they come in power.
And it’s amazing.
Part 3: “Just one person needs to care.”
