There’s a lot to be said about travel days on the World Race. I have yet to experience long layovers, but I did experience a 13 hour bus ride a few days ago on our way from San Juan, Dominican Republic to Haiti. I expected to be tired, crabby (hey, we left at 5 am), and pretty much checked out for the day. I did not expect for God to teach me – and through lunch of all things. As I’ve mentioned before, the food staple in this area of the world is rice and beans. During the past month in the DR, I ate this combo more than I ever have in my life. Surprisingly, I enjoyed it – especially when prepared by the locals. There’s some kind of special seasoning they add to the mix that unfortunatley we Americanos have trouble recreating (I actually offered up my mom’s wild rice hotdish recipe to one Dominican woman in exchange for her secret, but she either didn’t understand or just didn’t go for it – her loss!). The point is, this dish is as common here as PB&J’s back home…which I have also eaten an extraordinary number of on this trip, but that’s another story. In beginning this month of ministry in Haiti, I am praying for intentionality. I want to spice things up and live a life where I am not content to leave things as they are. It’s going to be a challenge for me this month as, in typical World Race fashion, things have already changed. My team is no longer going to be working with the tent cities but rather we are being sent to an orphanage for the month. We will be living in our tents and will only have electricity for a couple hours a day. I have to say, Europe (our next destination), is seeming like the promised land right now. But I know God sent us here for a reason and I am determined to make whatever difference I can in Haiti. We have already toured some of the devastation in Port-au-Prince from the earthquake and it is heartbreaking to see what you can tell was once a beautiful place reduced to rubble. Yet at the same time, beauty abounds…you just have to look for it. It’s in the welcoming faces that greet us wherever we go. It’s in the voices of the people singing praises to God at the church services we’ve attended. They are hungry for their rice and beans life – for restoration. Lord, please make me hungry too!
The regularity of rice and beans here really hit home when en route to Haiti, as the clock struck noon, the driver pulled our double-decker ride over to pass out our midday meal. As I dug my spoon into the increasingly familiar billows of snow white grains, the realization came to me: I’ve been living a rice and beans life. Always content with the staus quo, I’m more than happy to just plod along chasing after my slice of the American dream rather than chasing after God. I haven’t questioned things, haven’t considered the needs of others above myself, and frankly haven’t given much thought to the populations we’re serving before now. The sad thing is, I’m afraid that’s the way many of us live.
After reflecting on this for awhile, it also came to mind that the people I’ve met here also live a rice and beans life – but it means something vastly different. The life the people are living in the Dominican Republic and Haiti – and I would guess in most of the third world – is the only life they know. They realize that others must have it better, especially when white folks like us visit, but nonetheless they appreciate what they have. Not one person I’ve met so far, including those with torrid pasts like Winer, has complained to me about how rough they have it. Rather, they rejoice in what God has provided for them. Their rice and beans life is nourishment not to just their bodies but to their souls. What a concept for us to swallow!
