I remember what I was doing on this day last year. I had been at work and went to the gym. After returning home I was working on my computer when I got a text message from one of my H Squad friends, Teri Gunnink. She simply told me that a major earthquake had hit Haiti.
That’s when I turned on the TV and didn’t pull my eyes away from the tragedy that played on the screen in front of me. For days I watched, prayed, and cried. There was a deep broken place in my heart for the people of Haiti that I had fallen in love with just 11 months earlier when I was on the race with H Squad. The faces of the kids I loved, the memories of the streets I drove down, and the fear that what was already a bad situation had just become much worse kept rolling through my mind.
After a few days a decision was made to organize and send a team of WR Alumni through the Dominican Republic and into Haiti to evaluate the needs, meet the people we could partner with, and develop a plan to send more AIM teams to help out. I was going to be planning and leading this team.
If I’m honest, the stress of planning that trip was the most stressful experience I’ve had working with AIM and in missions. It wasn’t just the situation of figuring out logistics, safety, and purpose with the trip, but the brokenness I felt coupled with a strategic attack from the enemy on my identity that really brought me to my knees. So much of what God did in my life in 2010 started with prepping for that trip to Haiti.
At the same time, the actual trip may have been in my top three missions experiences I’ve ever had. The team was fabulous, unified, engaged, and walking in the boldness and power of the Spirit. I finally understood why people say “prayer covering.” The prayers, encouragement, and words from family and friends actually felt like a peaceful down comforter, blanketing us in His presence the entire time we were on the ground. It’s a feeling I’ll never forget, nor take for granted.
I remember not knowing what to expect. The night before leaving I tried to mentally prepare myself for the things I would see. We left just 10 days after the disaster, and the news reports told of bodies in the streets, the smell of decay, and desperate people turning to desperate measures. Several people took the time to look in my eyes and remind me of what might be in store for me and my team. I felt the responsibility of leading others through these experiences; through the emotions that would hit us all as we finally took the glass out of the TV screen and reached out to touch the hurting.
During that trip I felt a spiritual change in Haiti. You may think, “what in the world does that mean?” There’s no denying it even if it’s hard to describe in words, masses of people had aligned their focus with God and there was a shift not only in the earth, but in the spiritual atmosphere as well. There was a void just waiting to be filled by a loving God with an eternal hope.
Soon the people and their stories became real and tangible. There was the family who had escaped a collapsing building, only to walk for days, the wife deliver a baby, and then get to the border without any food, shelter, or supplies. The team bought formula for the baby, cried with the grateful parents, and prayed blessings over them as they moved on… at least together. Jacob and I walked to the border hospital to deliver soup to the hundreds of wounded people lying underneath sheets in the hot Caribbean sun. Every “tent” or bed we passed seemed to have a person who was missing limbs, lying, covering in flies, dazed and confused. My eyes were drawn to a little girl, no more than 8 or 9 years old, laying alone on a pallet. She was missing a leg. The team crossed the border into Haiti, went to a hospital and church, and helped organize mounds of donations to be sent to pastors in the capitol who would pass it out to those in the most need.
I left Haiti with new hope. AIM has sent teams down all year long and has worked diligently to provide aid, love, and Hope in Christ to the people of Haiti. I think back now with fond memories of a wonderful people, though still desperately in need. Today, will you do more than remember? Will you pray for these people, many of whom are still living in tent cities a year later or are fighting disease? Is there a way for you to give and fund continued restoration? Perhaps your circumstances you have changed and now it’s finally time for you to go and give yourself to the people. You wouldn’t regret it.
Please watch this video for some insight on the current situation in Haiti, a year after the disaster.
