the day I met Lina
If you've known me for more than a few days (or even hours, or minutes), you likely know that Haiti is very close to my heart. When I was 9, God brought my youngest sister, Lina, into our family, and it's no exaggeration to say that her adoption has had a bigger impact on my life (and on my family) than any other event or circumstance I've ever experienced, besides God's gracious and merciful gift of salvation. I honestly cannot picture what my life would be like today had we not adopted Lina. Not only did I gain an amazing and beautiful sister on that chilly March day back in 1996, but God also set me on a path of invaluable experiential learning - among others, about disability, of caring for the least of these, and about the country in which Lina was born: Haiti, the land of contrast.
My parents first traveled to Haiti in 1998 -- for a quick visit, just to learn more about this place where their youngest daughter was born. When they stepped off that plane in Port au Prince for the first time, greeted by that now-so-familiar warm breeze and the cacophony of uniquely Haitian sights, sounds, and smells, I doubt they had any idea of what was ahead. A quick trip, that's all; just a glimpse into Lina's native culture so that someday in the future, when she was older, we might have a few photos, maybe some souvenirs, and a story or two to tell her about that distant country where her life began. In, out, done. Simple enough, right?
Ha. If I've learned anything over the years, it's that NOTHING involving Haiti is simple, and that God's plans are almost always very different (and oh-so-much better) than ours.
And so, my parents came home with photos, souvenirs, stories...and the news that we were adopting again. While in Haiti, they had stayed at Notre Maison, the orphanage for children with special needs where Lina spent the first 7 months of her life. Also at this orphanage were James and Andre, who were both about three years old at the time; my parents felt led to begin the adoption process for these two. Again, God's plans are often different from ours, and, while we did eventually adopt James, my dad's sister actually ended up adopting Andre (but that's a story for a different time, perhaps).
About eleven months after my parents' initial trip, I made my first trek to that place that I now consider my second home. I desperately wish that I had kept a journal on this trip; sadly, the only time I opened my Winnie the Pooh diary (don't judge.) during those two weeks was to shake out the ants that had invaded the unfortunately blank pages. I would pay a lot of money to have written documentation of my first impressions of Haiti, but alas, all I have are a few snippets of memories. Like passing out in the courtyard while waiting to see the judge about our adoption paperwork. And enduring much pointing and staring due, not only to my whiteness, but also to the multitudinous ant bites covering my face. And learning to shower in a bucket, and to save and utilize every spare drop of water. And my first experience with "Haitian Happiness." Ugh.
I also remember the beautiful children. Especially sweet Darlyne, who, despite her disability which prevented her from being able to speak or walk, scooted herself around on the floor, tenderly caring for the babies.
Darlyne
I remember the sweet, high-pitched voice of my new brother, who, though shy, could occasionally be convinced to repeat a few words in English; no one else has ever said "silly, silly, silly!" in such an adorable manner.
I remember seeing the stars from the roof of Notre Maison... If you've ever been to Haiti, you'll agree: there are no stars like Haiti stars. Magnificent. Particularly from out in the country (though it was several years still before I discovered this).
at the Baptist Mission
I remember sitting on the bench in the back of a rickety truck, making the long, bumpy drive through ridiculous traffic up to the Baptist Mission, marveling that James could sleep through it all.
I remember being so mad on Thanksgiving Day, thinking of all the feasting that was going on in the United States, while all the kids at the orphanage had to eat was peanut butter on bread. Life is not fair. But...there is hope: "The LORD is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble...For the needy shall not always be forgotten, and the hope of the poor shall not perish forever." (Psalm 9:9,18)
I remember hearing Lellen, one of the nannies at Notre Maison, do lessons with some of the children, singing songs and pointing out pictures and having the children repeat the English name (buh-TARE-fly!)
Mom and James
I remember waiting with my mom outside of a grocery store at dusk. A young Haitian girl came up to us, clearly asking for something, but all we could do was smile and say m pa pale kreyol (I don't speak Kreyol). The girl giggled and walked away.
On second thought, I guess I do have a few more memories from that trip than I realized. But regardless of what I do or don't specifically remember, there is no doubt that during those two weeks God definitely gave me a love for Haiti and her people that has been challenged, questioned, deepened, and continues to be refined. Through all of my experiences in this country (which range from amazing to horrible, thrilling to terrifying, kinda weird to utterly ridiculous, etc, etc), God has taught me so many life lessons. Some have been more easily learned than others; many have come out of difficult and often painful situations (but how wonderful it is that God redeems even these times!). Most of these lessons I am still learning...slowly but surely.
When I began this post, I was planning on writing about Heartline and a new aspect of their ministry that is currently in the works. I do still plan to write about this because I really am so excited about it (and about everything God is accomplishing through Heartline in Haiti), but that'll have to wait until later (tomorrow, perhaps?). If you want to go ahead and see what's going on (if you haven't already done so the other times I've posted these links; I'm telling you, I'm excited!), visit Heartline's website here, the blog about the new teen moms home here, and Heather Hendrick's post here.
Until then, can I just say... I am so utterly amazed at God's providence and the way He works. He truly is sovereign over every detail; the way He puts each piece together and what He does with them is just incredible. Forgive me, Lord, for ever thinking that I'm the one in control of my life!
For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts. (Isaiah 55:8-9)
