blogging from Haiti

In the minutes it has taken this page to load, I've been trying to think of what I can compare the feeling to of loggng onto the blog having not done it for about a week and a half. It tastes the same way cold water does here in Haiti, probably just about the most refreshing best thing possible. I've missed it so much. I dont know what I was thinking not writing. Perhaps that is part of the hardness of this week. When you are used to writing and contemplating and pouring out thoughts and you don't, you start to lose that spark of life. I've been hating having free time and I don't know how I never made the connection that I should be WRITING and writing and writing. Because when I don't write its just not good at all. My mom was the one who suggested this lovely idea. I think it was the idea that I should use the computer as little as possible because why go to haiti and sit in front of a computer? But how in the world am I going to share Haiti and Jesus if I don't write?? And so now I will, as much as I can. So, Haiti. Its just hard. And beuatiful. Those are the best words I can think of for this place. It has taught me how big God is, because he is big enough for Haiti. And he was already here, long before I got here. The poverty is a very strange thing. At first I wasn't really hit by it. Numbness maybe? Or the sense that this is just what the world looks like here. Because they experience just as much joy and sorrow as we do in the US. Their lives are just their lives. They know nothing else. But then as I have been here a week, it is starting to soak into my skin. And I think it is when I read an email from my mom or best friend that I realize that its not okay. It is the fusion of the two worlds, the one I now find myself in and the one I have lived in my whole life that I can feel. What struck me most today is that God did not promise me the wealth, the education, the comfort, the family, the life that I have. And so I cannot think about the fact that I am paying so much to be so uncomfortable here because none of my money is mine. It is all his. 100%. God did not even promise me that I would be able to feel useful, to feel the advancement of his kingdom. Because most of the time I feel quite helpless here. Hating not being able to talk to people about Jesus. Hating not being able to understand when a child says something to me. Hating the prestige and near celebrity status that comes with being white. Hating the label of being unable to do most things as a girl. Lonely. Wanting more work. Wanting to talk about Jesus. Wanting to form deep relationships. Basically just trying to get by. Not minding the bugs always flying around me, not minding the heat that never goes away, not minding when I ride in a car for 4 hours, or when I clean, or when I feel like I  am doing absolutely nothing. Thats mostly what I do. Learn how to not mind. BECAUSE I was promised one thing only: Jesus. That is what God has offered to us, his people. Chirst. His beloved. The most precious thing he could possibly give. And I cannot say that He is not enough for me. Because he is enough. And I cannot even say that He is not enough for the Haitians. Because he is enough. And their lives are so so different then mine. Even here, I am living like royalty compared to virtually EVERYONE. And this will be a hard month for me. And I am already so looking forward to home. Not that I am ready to leave. By any means. I am so so thankful God has allowed me to be a guest here and to learn. Such a gift. Yet, I will leave. And that is not something most everyone here will ever do. The most marvelous parts have been the encouraging emails and the faith of the Haitians. These two things sustain me, push me to experience this journey deeply and not rush along, just staying busy, and have the courage to love Haiti well and hard, knowing the pain that will come with that. These words are not really what I intended to say. It is so much more. But for now and for a first attempt, it is enough.