Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Home from Haiti

   For years I ran after uncatchable winds. Meaningless, says Solomon. Now I know just what he meant. The things I've pursued, worthless; the priorities, pointless. I'm home from Haiti, but I'll never be the same. And that's a good thing.

   As we turtled through the traffic in Haiti, I had much to take in. Sensory overload doesn't even begin to describe the tsunami of emotions that threatened to overcome me. It leaves you speechless, really. It takes time to process such beauty and brokenness, such injustice and ingenuity, such poverty and priceless people.

   An old crippled man begging on the street. A woman washing off in a mud puddle. A man sifting through sewer muck...for God only knows what. A one-legged man on crutches painstakingly trying to walk up a very steep hill. Two men, each with a plastic bag, digging through a heap of trash, collecting "valuables"--something to sell, use, or even eat. Children scrapping up dropped crumbs with their hands from the orphanage floor and eating them...with the biggest smiles you could ever imagine--crumbs; a treasure in the hands of an orphaned child. These images will forever be burned into not only my mind but my heart as well.

   Daily I was haunted by the sight of invisible chains heavier than I could ever bear. The strength of Haitians is a sight to behold. And not just physical strength, but a mental and spiritual stamina I'm not sure I've ever possessed.

   While in Haiti I came face to face with my own depravity. Joy that can transcend circumstances; laughter in the midst of suffering; patience in pain; perseverance that refuses to surrender. Countless Haitians possess these things on a daily basis to a degree greater than most Americans ever have...myself included.

   In the eyes of Haitians I saw hope and heartache, tiredness and tenacity. These eyes held countless untold stories; stories untold because not many care to listen. I would love to hear every single story--every heartache, every victory, every sorrow, every joy.

   To love as I have been loved--am loved--is now my highest goal. I was once told that Jesus will one day ask me how well I loved. "Not much" and "Not well" would surely have to be my honest answer. I want that to change. I want to love with abandon, to love whether or not I am loved back, to love the least of these. I want to actively and passionately love those society turns a blind eye to. Only we're not blind. Not really. We just don't like that which makes us uncomfortable. We place boundaries on our love; Jesus never did and I want to be like Him.

   My life is more beautiful since returning from Haiti and not because I recognize how blessed I truly am, although that is certainly true. It is because my definition of love and beauty has been expanded; my capacity to love everyone has increased.

   Now that I'm home from Haiti, I am embracing my new normal; I've discovered a new flavor of love. It's called unconditional. The least of these. The marginalized. The outcasts. The unwanted. I want to love them all--unconditionally.

   How do you walk away from a country that is making you what you are? Haiti, I will miss you, but you will forever be a part of my heart.