“When Jesus saaaayyyyy yes, no-bod-eeee can say noooo.”
As I visited different villages in Haiti, this one song rang through all of them. The kids sing it on repeat and dance around confidently. They live out the words they sing as they open their hearts and jump into the arms of the North American strangers who just stumble into their homes.
The day after I had my head shaved, Jesus used the lyrics I’d heard countless times to affirm what He had told me to do.
My entire squad loaded onto a school bus and made our way to a village on the other side of the city. When our bus made it up the rocky, dirt road, there was a pile of kids already hanging out. It seemed like they were waiting for us. When we got off the bus, they did the typical “I choose you” charade, and soon after, most of my squadmates had new buddies hanging off of them. I tried not to take it personally that I did not have a buddy to tote around the village with me.
The sneaky, untrue lies snuck into my head.
If you had hair, then one of these kids would’ve been more apt to choose you. They think you’re weird looking.
As long as you’re bald, no kid will ever befriend you for the rest of the Race.
Obviously I know this is not true, but in that moment, I was struggling to not believe it. My team and I began making our way around the village, visiting homes with our translator friend, JB. We ended up at the home of a muscular, beautiful, hospitable woman named Anna. With the help of JB, we found out that Anna was on her way to the river to wash and refill her laundry buckets. She invited us to walk with her, so we started down the path.
As we began our trek, a large group of kids came out of nowhere and began chasing us, each one latching on to my teammates. Again, I didn’t have a friend immediately. I kept walking, knowing that God still had a plan for my day. Just as we were about to be completely surrounded by a forest of plantain trees, I felt a hand grab mine, and a little body swung up into my arms.
She was a wiry little girl wearing an overalls dress that was completely open and hanging off of her. Braids gone haywire stuck straight from her head, and her cinnamon brown eyes danced with life as they met mine. Light as a feather, it wasn’t hard to follow Anna to the river with my new friend in my arms.
It started as a secret she whispered in my ear as we marched on, but soon my ear felt full of her passion as she was almost shouting.
“When Jesus say yes, nobody can say no. When Jesus say yes, nobody can say no. WHEN JESUS SAY YES NOBODY CAN SAY NO!”
Then she began praying over me in Creole with so much love in her sweet raspy voice. She stroked my face, rubbed my shoulders, kissed my cheek, and then rubbed my newly shaved head. Tears filled my eyes as I chuckled at the goodness of my Father and how He had chosen this Haitian angel to speak to me.
My new friend and I spent a few hours hanging out as she climbed on my back, rode on my shoulders, and snuggled on my lap under a tree. When it was time for my squad to board our dust covered school bus, my new friend took my hand, walked me to the bus, and after a hug and kiss, pushed me aboard. She nodded as I looked back at her and told her, “I love you.”
Every time I catch myself in a weak moment of self consciousness concerning my hair or lackthereof, I remember my Haitian angel and how she blessed me. How she reaffirmed that Jesus is enamored by me, with or without hair. How when I say yes to Him, I will never regret it.
My prayer is that my sweet friend lives her life by the lyrics she chanted at me so fervently, and that she will carry her childlike wonder with her through her whole life, walking in the truth that when “Jesus say yes, nobody can say no.”
