This One Time…

It's been nearly 2 months since I last wrote on here, and mainly due to just having so much going on that I haven't found the time. Since I have dozens of stories I'd like to share with you, I'm just gonna try to tell a bunch of them at once in the most succinct way I can think of. I can't believe I only have a few weeks left here. I won't lie, I want to stay. There are a lot of changes happening, and leaving in the middle of them is hard. Of course, I have commitments at home, so I'm seeking God's will. More on that later, but be in prayer for that decision please.

 

This one time, in Haiti, I had a 10 year old kid helping me hammer some trusses together. He could do it faster and better than most framers I've worked with, and I've worked with good framers.

This one morning, in Haiti, most of the staff had a serious case of the runs and one of the guys was telling me how he woke up from a dead sleep the middle of the night and had to bolt for the bathroom. I replied that I'd had the same experience…except the part where I woke up. We then discussed what was better – getting the sleep, or not crapping yourself in the night like a 2 year old.

All the time, in Haiti, I'm actually so busy I only wind up taking a shower when I realize I can't remember the last time I did so.

This one time, in Haiti, I woke up in the middle of a 4.0, and waited for it to get a little more intense before running. It remained a constant, and I decided instead of losing sleep during those I'd leave it to God to tell me when to run and not fear it. If He brought me here to bring a building down on my head in the night and somehow be glorified through that, I'm ok with it. Slept right through most tremors since.

This one time, in Haiti, I drove past a guy lying dead in the street. No one was even looking twice at him, he was just another thing on the ground. He'd been there 4 hours. It's an image I'll never get out of my head.

This one time, in Haiti, I met a 12 year old boy at an orphanage that, at age 8, was sentenced to death by the government for the murders he'd committed of all his father's kidnap victims whose families didn't pay up. God rescued him.

This one time, in Haiti, I had that boy pray over me. I can only describe it as he prays like a prophet. His little hand on the back of my head reminded me how small a yes God uses to bring His peace, love, and joy.

This one time, in Haiti, there was a boy that had been in the fetal position for 15 years. We prayed all week, then baptized him, and he crawled for the first time the next day. His laugh is one of pure joy now.

This one time, in Haiti, my back had been bothering me for months. We prayed. Hasn't hurt since.

This one time, in Haiti, I heard the most haunting sound I'll ever hear – a whole city crying out in fear and pain with a single voice made of many. I hear it every time there's a tremor.

Last week, in Haiti, I visited a tent community with 575 tents in it that were still only covered by bed sheets. It's the rainy season. It would take $16000 just to get enough tarps together for them. I felt helpless. Writing that made me cry.

This one time, in Haiti, I had 100 children crowd around to thank me and say 'God bless you' over an over again after I helped drop off a measly few days worth of food. I cried then too.

This one time, in Haiti, we had half as many bags of beans with which to match the amount of rice we were dividing into family portions – the price of beans had doubled and there was a shortage. We prayed. After dividing all the food, we had portioned out more beans than normal and we still had left overs.

This one time, in Haiti, I asked a young man who it was that had taught him scripture so thoroughly. He replied that God had – for as long as he could remember the Spirit would visit him in his dreams and tutor him in the word, long before he ever had a bible.

This one time, in Haiti…no, all the time, in Haiti, church services become an undignified, completely abandoned dance party of worship before the throne of our King. We don't worship at home, we sing. Here they worship.

Most of the time, in Haiti, I can stand on our balcony and listen to the praises of Jesus echoing from every direction as different churches shout them out from where they are worshiping.

This one time, in Haiti, we had so many people coming to us for prayer  in a tent community that a helicopter called in our location, thinking we were a dangerous mob. We learned this when a multinational UN security force and local police all showed up, guns ready. We got to pray for some of them too.

This one time, in Haiti, I was talking to a man who hadn't sold anything that he made for a week and was starving. He asked us, with complete and firm faith, for prayer because prayer was better and more important than food to him.

All the time, in Haiti, I get humbled by people just like that, because they get it more than anyone I've ever known. Especially me.

This one time, in Haiti, there was this massive earthquake and the nations of the world came to help those in need – only to discover they, and not Haiti, were the ones lacking everything that mattered and in need of what God is doing here. They are, one by one, taking it home to their own people that more may come and know, that THE church may come together as one, giving all they have both physical and spiritual to one another that the body of Christ may truly become the bride that calls to Him.