July 16, 2016
I love being home. I love the kids playing in the yard. I love sitting on the porch watching the birds. I love country roads and simple ways and everybody knows everybody. I will always be wonderfully tethered to home.
But I’m also bound to foreign places now. Because even as I sit enjoying the life God has given, there is a heaviness over what I’ve seen in Haiti.
I’ve seen the families living in make shift tents. I’ve seen little boys naked, barefoot, and hungry. I’ve seen a sick mama lying helplessly in the doorway of her shack, burning up with fever and no way to get a sip of cool, clean water.
I’ve heard the pastor’s wife lament because neighbors came asking for food. Not because she didn’t want to share. But because she didn’t have enough to feed her own family, and it grieves her that she has nothing with which to help them.
I’ve seen the lame child sitting in the dirt with no options in life. And no hope. And I’ve seen the Mama sitting beside him braiding her hair, with no idea there is a world outside of hers where his life could be transformed.
I’ve seen it, and now there is no way to un-see it. I can’t pretend they do not exist. I can no longer live in blissful ignorance, merrily going about buying groceries and painting my nails.
And all the while I’m surrounded with luxury and enough wealth to change the lives of thousands. My insides are screaming for others to see, too, begging them to share. How do I show them, Lord?
Father I know you care for the poor, and you want me to care too. Forbid that I should ever forget. Break my heart over and over, so that I bleed out your compassion.
To find out more about the ministry I partner with in Haiti, check out Disciples Village. They have my highest endorsement as an organization to give generously to.