Over the last few days I’ve been working on demolishing my perfectionist tendencies to “get er’ done” – instead of simply being in the moment. During feedback time yesterday, I shared openly my realization and thoughts on the matter. This beautiful revelation I thought I could take all the time in the world to work on, was followed by one of my teammates challenging me to “not pick up a hammer ALL day”. In place of “doing” was to be intentional about “being” and to look for opportunities to pray for, delight in, and learn about whatever people may be around me.
This “day without a hammer” challenge proved to be a rather insightful + freeing endeavor.
Today a woman who could barely walk on a swollen foot clad in infection of some sort was prayed for – and received a new home I took no part in assembling.
Today the echo of squealing, giggling children could be heard from the hilltops as I chased a couple little boys through their yards and neighboring trees/rubble piles.
Today a large group of Haitian people practiced dancing in the street, and it was okay to watch.
Today orphans were played with and loved on for three hours and it felt like mere minutes. We danced, spun in circles until we were crazy dizzy, laughed, and sat tossing rocks back and forth, simply because its fun + that’s what kids do.
Today a little orphan girl named Adiana felt safe, secure, and loved enough to crawl in my lap and simply sit because she knew she could. She didn’t have to ask or work for that love – she simply had it at her disposal, and Jesus held her in His arms.
Today there was a parade – and watching it trumped every other agenda.
Today an estranged missionary traveler, separated from her group at the airport yesterday, and left behind without any teammates realizing, joined and left our team knowing God has a purpose in our paths crossing – and gaining priceless insight into the way people live in Haiti.
Today an elderly woman kissed my cheek and talked endlessly in Creole phrases I understood nothing about – and simply smiled at, but her family gained a home, and she delightfully exclaimed from time to time her like of the “blanc” people being around.
Today a 100-year-old Haitian grandmother named Felemiz was found sitting in a curled up position on the rocky ground. There she sat, empty looking and sad – but feeling prompted to move from my seat, I moved toward her and she immediately shared about her “maladies” or sicknesses…her feet and back seemed to bother her a lot – so I asked to pray for her. God moved in this woman’s heart as my teammates and I prayed, calling down the blessings and peace of Christ on her life as she finishes home stretch. Hungry, sickly, and living in a dump, this woman’s eyes showed decades upon decades of stories untold. Her voice – sweet, faint, and distant spoke a language my ears and mind could not comprehend, and my only thought aside form blessing this woman was, “Lord, I can’t understand her. Why can’t I just understand her?” This broke my heart and it was a humbling privilege to be called upon to pray for someone nearly 5x my age.
