Why did I come? Why did I ever sell my truck, quit my job,
leave my home, leave my beach, and leave my friends for this? I can tell you a
few reasons why I did not come on this World Race.
I have battled back
and forth, back and forth, over and over and over again. I am not here for a
vacation. I am not here for comfort. I am not here for just anything.
I am here for everything. I am here for a purpose. I am here
to find my place. I am here to find joy. I am here to be broken. I am here to
be torn apart. I am here to have my heart broken for the things that break
God’s heart. I am here to be stretched. I am here to be put in positions where
I fully rely on God. I am here to be naked before Christ. I am here to be
sincere before our Lord, to come without any coverings over my wounds, my
transgressions, my fears. I am here to let them all stand out before the Lord
Almighty. I am here to reach the broken. I am here to speak life into the dead.
I am here to pursue the Spirit of God Most High.
The night we came into Haiti was possibly one of the most
terrifying nights of my life. It was a night that I will never forget. It was a
night when I realized that death is actually a possibility…
To set the scene we are on a rickety old school bus driving
down unpaved roads in the dark bouncing and rocking to and fro across the canyon
sized potholes along the way. There are few to no street lights and many
Haitians sit on the door steps talking and watching us Americans go by. It is
my team of 5 and me sitting with 3 Haitian men who are taking us to the
orphanage where we will spend our next month.
As the bus approaches a turn, some 45 minutes into the ride,
we notice a broken down cargo truck blocking the right hand side of the already
narrow road, and a small stand covered by a tin roof sits to our left selling
what looks like rat on a stick and mashed plantains. With just inches on both sides of the bus we
begin to creep forward. Noticing more a massive 3’x2’x1′ pot hole directly in
front of the driver’s side front tire we begin to wonder if this was a good
idea to try and push through.
The stand is directly outside my window and I can literally
reach half way out my window and grab food from the pans underneath the tin
roof. We press on. As the back quarter of the bus passes close by to the stand
our front tire hits the pot hole causing the whole bus to lean harshly left…
A large scraping sound followed by the sounds of crashing
pots, pans and a tin roof scream forth like a banshee in the night. A few
people scream and the bus bounces wildly. We just hit the little stand…
The bus pulls forward trying to clear the area so that we
can get out of the road. Making the right hand turn just missing the truck, and
a light pole, we pull off to the side of the road now just 60′ from the stand.
Markess our contact here in Haiti along with Mekel and another man jump off the
bus to see the damage done leaving we Americans alone on a bus in the dark in
the middle of nowhere.
Moments later a crowd of about 25 angry Haitians flood the
street. We hear yelling but cannot see the stand nor the people. A few minutes
in and a man jumps on the bus through the back door. It’s dark and Blake in the
back and I in the front have the girls of team Reckless sitting between us. The
man sifts through some bags, and afraid of what might happen in speaking up, we
stand quiet as he moves around the back of the bus. He finds a large metal
pipe, jumps off the bus and slams the door behind him.
Suddenly that crowd of Haitians is just outside the bus.
Many people are screaming, and we see what looks like Markess get grabbed and
thrown into a circle of about 10 men. We see some pushing and a fist or two
thrown, and as this is happening we begin to pray. A few men approach the doors
of the bus which are now shut. They bang on the windows and on the door. Blake
and I armed with just 2 small pocket knives stand quietly waiting for their
next move. The crowd is large, the mood is angry and we are getting very, very
nervous.
This continues for about 5 minutes when suddenly the back
door opens back up and a large man jumps on. Its Markess…
He sits down quietly close to the back. I ask, “Is
everything ok?” His response, a soft “No.” He proceeds to tell us that we
knocked over the stand. That they are angry and they want to hurt someone
because we hurt some of theirs. Sarah asks, “Who you?” and Markess in reply
with a very calm, “All of us”…
He proceeds to tell us that one of the men on the bus ran to
the police station and will hopefully be back soon. We continue to pray.. We pray that the mood will change, that God
will place his angels around the bus to protect us, that He will soften the
hearts of those who are angry…
The mood begins to calm, and about 10 minutes later the
police show up armed with shotguns. After talking to the people and to Markess,
they climb into the bus and tell us to drive. They escort us to the orphanage,
just 3 minutes straight down the road from the angry mob…
This was our first night in Haiti.
Over all the orphanage, “All of God’s Children Orphanage”,
paid for the damages done. One lady got a burn on her leg, and another cut
himself as he was jumping out of the way.
Internet has been down, so this report is very late. Haiti is
actually a beautiful place with green mountains and friendly people. We just
had a bad moment. We are safe, we are alive, we are working, and we love this
place very much…
Continue to pray for us…
