The Ordinary Ones

There’s something I’ve been trying to wrap my mind around lately.   I live in a country where people don’t have a lot of material possessions. They also don’t have a lot of food, and the food that they do have is not the most nutritious or balanced type of diet. Their houses are not great; they don’t have cars; many don’t have jobs. The question: What is my response? Many times, people here ask me for things. It seems that I can’t leave our mission base without someone asking me for my water bottle, my sweater, my shoes, some money. I’m pretty sure they see me as a rich white person. What I’ve realized recently is that in many ways, this is actually true. If you look at the big picture of the whole world and all of the people in it, I am rich, even though I am a missionary and I have to ask for money for everything that I have. I am rich, even though I buy almost all of my clothes on sale, and have many that were given to me. I am rich, even though my laptop is five years o

Louci and Taina (two of the young teenage girls that always come by our house) are fighting. They were best friends and now they won't talk to each other. When I asked Louci why, she told me that it was because Taina scolded her because her clothing was immodest. I am sad that they aren't talking, and sad that Louci couldn't just admit when she was wrong, but so proud that one of our teens could recognize immodesty and have the courage to call out one of her friends. That is the kind of accountability we need in the world. Today we also went to visit a family member of one of our teens. The family member, Silvina, is old, sleeping on the floor on a thin mat, and hasn't been able to walk for a month and a half. We visited and prayed with her. While I know that doesn't fix everything, I am hopeful for the impact it could have to bring the love of Christ to someone in need. To be honest, I am exhausted lately because things like this happen every day. My l

Yesterday I had a conversation with some of the girls  that we minister to. There were six of us sitting on the basketball court after playing a short soccer game, during which I had nearly cracked my face open on the concrete. Our conversation went something like this: Them: "How long are you living here?" Me: "Two years." Them: "How long have you been here already?" Me: "Four months." Them: "After you leave are you going to visit?" Me: "Yes." Them: "But you won't live here anymore?" Me: "I don't know." Them: "When you go, can I come with you?" I didn't know what to say so I kind of laughed and said: "I would like that." Then someone else said, "Can I come too?"  So I said, "Everyone can come with me!" Ahhh. I hope They knew I was joking. Although I would love to bring them to America one day. Pray for me to give them Christ and not just myself. It is har

Being a missionary is hard. Actually, just being a Christian is hard.   I feel like I should understand that by now. But even though I have been following the Lord for a little while, I am still surprised when struggles come along. I think, “Why, Lord? When will this end? Is it ever going to be easy?” Today, I was in the chapel praying and having a moment with Jesus. It was one of those “Is this ever going to end?” moments. “Why is there struggle after struggle? It seems that the moment one thing ends, something else begins.” I was frustrated and starting to feel hopeless. The past few months in Haiti have been absolutely beautiful. I have been blessed to be part of a mission where I feel like we are able to make an impact and bring something meaningful to our mission field. Watching youth ministry take place in Haiti has been one of the biggest blessings, and most beautiful times of my life. I really wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. We are living in a blessed m