We are in Haiti smack dab in the middle of month 2. It’s crazy how fast time goes by on the Race, and life in general. We arrived to Mission of Hope Haiti (MOH) and spent our first few days of ministry there doing some incredible village ministry. These days were my favorite of the Race so far, loading up in the canter and traveling into the villages, going from home to home sharing the gospel and serving them in any way we could, these are the days I dreamed about.
After a few days at Mission of Hope, we were asked to move locations to be a trial run at a different ministry, Baptist Haiti Mission (BHM). I would encourage you to look up both these ministries. It’s absolutely incredible to be a part of what they are doing.
Last Wednesday we arrived at BHM. It’s much cooler here in the mountains than it was at MOH which has been such a blessing for the team. Our ministry looks alot different here and we aren’t sure how long we are staying, but I’m so proud of my team and how well they have adapted to not only month 2 but also being moved twice in the span of a week.
On our first night at BHM I woke up extremely nauseous and began vomiting about 30 minutes later. I was up off and on the rest of the night dealing with nausea and a whole lot of uneasy thoughts. It’s amazing yet unsettling how cold dark spaces, illness, and being alone in a room full of people invite the enemy to come and play.
The next five days I experienced the worst diarrhea and dehydration I have ever had. I’ll spare you the details but I don’t think I’ve ever been so sick.
They call it the Haitian Sensation. And boy let me tell you, I had it.
The majority of my time awake was spent in the bathroom. It’s a humbling experience to be this sick when your bathroom is located in the same space as you and your 11 other teammates sleep.
Physically I was drained. Mentally I was drained. Spiritually I was drained.
I kept asking the Lord what the point of this was, what He wanted to teach me from being completely out for five days, from missing days of ministry and being present with my team. Because honestly this felt like a direct attack from the enemy and I was so frustrated and hurting almost as much mentally as I was physically. I felt completely out of control and couldn’t really do anything for myself.
On day three I was able to get some Gatorade which I honestly attribute with saving my life. (Hey Gatorade, if you want to sponsor me I will forever be singing your electrolyte giving, rehydrating praises.)
But really, I was down and out for the count. Asking the Lord what the point of this was. If I wasn’t in the bathroom I was asleep, which frustrated me even more that I wasn’t even able to get extra time with Him despite being by myself for the majority of the days. I knew there had to be some goodness in it, but I just couldn’t see it. Then He started to open my eyes, to reveal things to me about myself, my false self, the part of me that tries to earn my worth. The doer.
The extension of who I really am. The servant. The little girl turned woman who at some point thought the more she did the more she was worth. The servanthood from the Lord sown into my DNA battling against my flesh. The intention behind my actions slowly being manipulated.
You see, the enemy is sneaky like that, slowly twisting a beautiful piece of my being the Lord specifically designed to be a life stealing, heart wrenching lie.
I’m not sure when it started, but it had to have been a long time ago. Expectations I would place on myself to do the most, to be the best, or most willing to jump in and help. It happened without me even realizing it.
I earned my ability to be in a space by serving there, not because I believed I was enough just how I was.
The Lord is reminding my heart of my true identity. That I’m enough when I’m doing. That I’m enough when I’m not. That I don’t have to earn my right to fill a space. That I don’t have to offer a defense for not constantly doing.
That laying in the bed for five days with the Haitian Sensation and humbly allowing others to serve me is still leadership.
It’s going to take time for me to undo the lie. To be intentional about my intentions. To relearn to serve myself and others in the way the Lord designed me to. But the Lord is faithful and I know that we are walking this together.
Also, shoutout to my sweet teammate Shelby (who also felt like junk) for holding my hand while I slept, refilling my gatorade more times than I could count, and suprising me with clean sheets when I mustered up the energy to take a shower.
