Being in Haiti really birthed such a compassion in me. Ever since I got home I have been over-emphasizing that word. But first, I will tell the details and stuff everyone wants to know.
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We would walk through the villages in the mornings and see the people and their little “houses” and their families. We saw their way of life. We saw them in their element, in their everyday. We would drive through the streets and see up close their culture. We saw the men hard at work, the women busy in their fields, the young men down on the ground making their tin art in the tin shops, the kids from the villages playing soccer and taking care of their young siblings. We walked up and down the streets and saw the vendors with their baskets full of colorful things. We heard every night their creative music (beautiful but some of it was…awful, I must admit, horrible sound)
.. ..
Staying in the mission house was an adventure in itself. The missionary teams were great fun and so welcoming to me. I enjoyed hanging out with them almost as much as the Haitians. I loved having breakfast and dinner with 30 people, it was like being in a huge family. The conversation was so light and pleasant and a lot of times hilarious. One night I had to get up and go in the other room to get myself under control. The food was INCREDIBLE, so delicious. I did not have one bad meal the whole time. I did get really used to peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, pringles and vanilla cookies. That was lunch basically every day. Also, I got really used to “fetching water” from a purified container and brushing my teeth every night with a cup of water because the tap water is unclean and not safe for drinking or brushing. I am happy to say I only slipped up once, on the last day too! But I would have to say the best part was the cold showers, I thought I would die, but I realized I can tolerate a lot, I’m a tough little thing!
.. ..
One of the highlights for me was staying in Greg and Cathie’s apartment the 2nd week. I got to hear their testimony 3 times (twice to the teams) but one night Cathie and I got to talk and she told me her whole story. It was so encouraging to me because I had been struggling with trusting God and hearing His voice and getting really worried about where to go next and what He wanted for me. She really helped me so much and gave me some verses that helped her hear His voice. Besides that I miss sitting in their kitchen at night eating all of Greg’s oreos and drinking their milk (which is really good – and rare, I think) journaling about what God is saying to me through all this.
.. ..
And I can’t forget getting up at 6:30 every morning to make it to breakfast at 7, then heading out in that horrible squeaky, bumpy truck with the teams. With all the thick Haitian dust giving me breathing issues.
.. ..
But if I had to pick a favorite part it would have to be without a doubt the children. I got build such close relationships over just a few days and with language and culture barriers. I love those kids. And they knew it too. Each one of them had a story.
.. ..
Back to COMPASSION. What does it mean? I will start with this: To truly know someone, you know them inside and out and so deeply that you begin to take on their likeness. And….you take on their heart. Their heart becomes yours. So when I was 16 I set my heart on a pilgrimage to know the heart of God. Then when I turned 18, I decided I wanted all of it, the good, the bad, the joy and the agony. I said “God, give me all of your heart. I want to be like you. Break my heart for what breaks yours.”
.. ..
And a week into this trip, I was sitting up on the roof looking out over the city and the mountains, and I said “God, I am not afraid for my heart to be broken.” It was that moment that I became ready and open to receive the burdens that are in His heart. I became receptive, able to receive it. That moment something shifted in me. I knew heartbreak was coming. Because I had just made myself open and vulnerable to the Lord’s working.
.. ..
And I believe that he was so pleased with that. I believe he couldn’t wait to give me his heart. “Yes! I’ve found another one who wants it!” I think he was so excited that one of his children asked for his heart and likeness, willing to lay down their life in exchange for it. And oh boy, he gave it to me! Yes, my heart was broken. In the week that followed, he opened my eyes to the pain and oppression of the Haitians. I met people with stories you would not believe, heard stories you would not believe. I saw things that tore me on the inside (such as visiting the ravine).
.. ..
When Greg and Cathie visited us in FL, they told us about a school up over the ravine that was in session one day, and apparently had not been built on a good foundation. It just collapsed, with tons of children inside. They said they went to the lookout later that day and heard weeping all into the night. One woman was told that her five children were in the hospital. She went there to find them, and was told they were at a burial site. She went there and all five of them were dead, she then dropped over dead because it was too much for her.
.. ..
The first day I was there I met a girl named Solel who was actually one of my first Haitian friends. She was about 12 years old. She would come to the site every day to see us and hang out. About Wednesday in the 2nd week, a woman on the mission team told me that during the day a girl came up to her and told her that her dad had just died. She was ready to go live in an orphanage because her mother was so upset and could barely take care of them anymore. The woman asked her if they had enough food, and she said no, they don’t. All she wants is to go to school, but they can’t afford that. On Friday, I ran up and gave Solel a hug and noticed she was holding a card. She was telling some other kids about it. Then she looked at me and pointed to the card and said “Papa”. I grabbed the woman on the team and said “Is this the girl who…” And she nodded her head. I ran into a corner and broke down. I couldn’t believe it. When I finally stopped crying, I went back out to the kids and Solel looked at me and then pointed at the card and made a death motion. She looked so sad. All week she had been laughing, jumping rope, hugging me and playing with the kids and now here she was and I saw what her life was really like. Her sister Sophia was one of the ones I also grew to really love, she was about 14. Both her and Solel would come to the site and say “Annah! Annah!” over and over just because they like to say it.
.. ..
Friday was a very hard day for me, not only because of that. We had planned to leave the work site at noon to go back to the mission house and get ready to go up to the mountain. We were going to eat lunch in the truck on the way there. But we had to eat at the work site instead. We sent the kids away so we could eat. They went to sit on the steps. I was still tearing up over Solel and then I noticed Megan crying (she was on the team). We got our sandwiches and went into the room because we could not eat. Then I found out that one of the kids actually asked another team member “Why do you teach us about Jesus when we come here, and you don’t feed us?” I set my sandwich down, because there was no point in eating it. I just couldn’t do it. Pastor Rob came in and gave me a hug and said “You know Hannah there are a bunch of kids in Florida that you can feed.”
.. ..
All week I just wanted to take just one of those kids in the room and give them my sandwich and have the translator tell them “Ok, I’m going to give you this, but you can’t tell anyone else. Do you understand? You can’t say anything to anyone.” I just wanted to give them food. We couldn’t because if you give some of them food, the next day you will have the whole village and you won’t have enough. Those kids eat once a day, maybe twice if they are lucky and the translator told us that it is usually rice or some kind of dish like that. So every day they would watch Americans come and build them a new church and work with their kids and then send them away so they could have their American lunch. That was the hardest thing for me. I would have preferred that we didn’t even bring lunch and just eat before and after, for that reason.
.. ..
I met another little boy who I was told had 7 other siblings, whose dad was in prison. He wore a long woman’s shirt every day for 5 days. The 6th day, he had another shirt underneath that one. He was filthy. We asked the kids one day about church, and one boy said he does not go to church because his parents do voodoo up in the mountains. I just looked at him and thought “You know, he is never going to have a good or an easy life. He is always going to be poor and dirty and most likely he is already being raised in voodoo and if something doesn’t happen to change his life, he is going to grow up and do it just like them.” It made me so sad. I heard all this stuff on the last day. I spent 2 weeks playing and laughing with these kids and then the day before I left, I learned about their lives. It really broke me.
.. ..
God filled me with compassion for PEOPLE not only children. He gave me a passion to love, and also a passion to see justice. Since Haiti He has awakened in me a desire to rescue, love and care for sick, orphaned, poor, abandoned, abused, mistreated and broken people that the world doesn’t even notice. But especially children. I want to see light in their eyes, and innocence back in their face and I want to see them smile. I remember asking God “WHY! WHY ARE THEY SO ABANDONED AND NEGLECTED AND IN SUCH PAIN? DON’T YOU CARE ABOUT THEM? WHY DO THEY SUFFER SO STRONGLY WHEN I HARDLY SUFFER AT ALL?! IT’S NOT FAIR, IT’S NOT FAIR!” I felt so powerless, so helpless to do anything. I could do nothing for them, to reach them. I want JUSTICE. God began to put in me such an ignited passion and I believe this is the start of what will become my life mission. I want to bring Jesus to the world and justice to the nations and I WANT TO SEE HEALING COME TO THE BROKEN ONES!
.. ..
Thank you all for reading and praying. I had an amazing experience and hopefully will have many more this coming year. I am trusting God to provide more money for me to travel and do more mission work.
.. ..
Haiti is absolutely beautiful and the people are amazing. They are so steadfast and loving. Very open, welcoming and receptive of missionaries. I know that is not the case for all of them, but as a whole this is who they are. They are wonderful. But Haiti is also broken and very much in need of restoration and healing. I saw it in both lights. This little country is so very ripe for a mighty move of God and His hand is upon it so strongly. Every day I spent time with the people I asked myself over and over “How do they feel? What are they thinking? What is in their hearts?” I desperately wanted to know. I wanted to get inside their heads and hearts and I wanted to know them.
.. ..
.. ..
We would walk through the villages in the mornings and see the people and their little “houses” and their families. We saw their way of life. We saw them in their element, in their everyday. We would drive through the streets and see up close their culture. We saw the men hard at work, the women busy in their fields, the young men down on the ground making their tin art in the tin shops, the kids from the villages playing soccer and taking care of their young siblings. We walked up and down the streets and saw the vendors with their baskets full of colorful things. We heard every night their creative music (beautiful but some of it was…awful, I must admit, horrible sound)
.. ..
It is never quiet in Haiti. There is constant noise. Barking dogs, music, yelling, babies crying, constant traffic noise, horns, parties. The smells made me nauseous and gave me breathing problems. But the smiles I got kinda made up for it. Beautiful people.
.. ..
.. ..
Staying in the mission house was an adventure in itself. The missionary teams were great fun and so welcoming to me. I enjoyed hanging out with them almost as much as the Haitians. I loved having breakfast and dinner with 30 people, it was like being in a huge family. The conversation was so light and pleasant and a lot of times hilarious. One night I had to get up and go in the other room to get myself under control. The food was INCREDIBLE, so delicious. I did not have one bad meal the whole time. I did get really used to peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, pringles and vanilla cookies. That was lunch basically every day. Also, I got really used to “fetching water” from a purified container and brushing my teeth every night with a cup of water because the tap water is unclean and not safe for drinking or brushing. I am happy to say I only slipped up once, on the last day too! But I would have to say the best part was the cold showers, I thought I would die, but I realized I can tolerate a lot, I’m a tough little thing!
.. ..
One of the highlights for me was staying in Greg and Cathie’s apartment the 2nd week. I got to hear their testimony 3 times (twice to the teams) but one night Cathie and I got to talk and she told me her whole story. It was so encouraging to me because I had been struggling with trusting God and hearing His voice and getting really worried about where to go next and what He wanted for me. She really helped me so much and gave me some verses that helped her hear His voice. Besides that I miss sitting in their kitchen at night eating all of Greg’s oreos and drinking their milk (which is really good – and rare, I think) journaling about what God is saying to me through all this.
.. ..
And I can’t forget getting up at 6:30 every morning to make it to breakfast at 7, then heading out in that horrible squeaky, bumpy truck with the teams. With all the thick Haitian dust giving me breathing issues.
.. ..
But if I had to pick a favorite part it would have to be without a doubt the children. I got build such close relationships over just a few days and with language and culture barriers. I love those kids. And they knew it too. Each one of them had a story.
.. ..
Back to COMPASSION. What does it mean? I will start with this: To truly know someone, you know them inside and out and so deeply that you begin to take on their likeness. And….you take on their heart. Their heart becomes yours. So when I was 16 I set my heart on a pilgrimage to know the heart of God. Then when I turned 18, I decided I wanted all of it, the good, the bad, the joy and the agony. I said “God, give me all of your heart. I want to be like you. Break my heart for what breaks yours.”
.. ..
And a week into this trip, I was sitting up on the roof looking out over the city and the mountains, and I said “God, I am not afraid for my heart to be broken.” It was that moment that I became ready and open to receive the burdens that are in His heart. I became receptive, able to receive it. That moment something shifted in me. I knew heartbreak was coming. Because I had just made myself open and vulnerable to the Lord’s working.
.. ..
And I believe that he was so pleased with that. I believe he couldn’t wait to give me his heart. “Yes! I’ve found another one who wants it!” I think he was so excited that one of his children asked for his heart and likeness, willing to lay down their life in exchange for it. And oh boy, he gave it to me! Yes, my heart was broken. In the week that followed, he opened my eyes to the pain and oppression of the Haitians. I met people with stories you would not believe, heard stories you would not believe. I saw things that tore me on the inside (such as visiting the ravine).
.. ..
When Greg and Cathie visited us in FL, they told us about a school up over the ravine that was in session one day, and apparently had not been built on a good foundation. It just collapsed, with tons of children inside. They said they went to the lookout later that day and heard weeping all into the night. One woman was told that her five children were in the hospital. She went there to find them, and was told they were at a burial site. She went there and all five of them were dead, she then dropped over dead because it was too much for her.
.. ..
The first day I was there I met a girl named Solel who was actually one of my first Haitian friends. She was about 12 years old. She would come to the site every day to see us and hang out. About Wednesday in the 2nd week, a woman on the mission team told me that during the day a girl came up to her and told her that her dad had just died. She was ready to go live in an orphanage because her mother was so upset and could barely take care of them anymore. The woman asked her if they had enough food, and she said no, they don’t. All she wants is to go to school, but they can’t afford that. On Friday, I ran up and gave Solel a hug and noticed she was holding a card. She was telling some other kids about it. Then she looked at me and pointed to the card and said “Papa”. I grabbed the woman on the team and said “Is this the girl who…” And she nodded her head. I ran into a corner and broke down. I couldn’t believe it. When I finally stopped crying, I went back out to the kids and Solel looked at me and then pointed at the card and made a death motion. She looked so sad. All week she had been laughing, jumping rope, hugging me and playing with the kids and now here she was and I saw what her life was really like. Her sister Sophia was one of the ones I also grew to really love, she was about 14. Both her and Solel would come to the site and say “Annah! Annah!” over and over just because they like to say it.
.. ..
Friday was a very hard day for me, not only because of that. We had planned to leave the work site at noon to go back to the mission house and get ready to go up to the mountain. We were going to eat lunch in the truck on the way there. But we had to eat at the work site instead. We sent the kids away so we could eat. They went to sit on the steps. I was still tearing up over Solel and then I noticed Megan crying (she was on the team). We got our sandwiches and went into the room because we could not eat. Then I found out that one of the kids actually asked another team member “Why do you teach us about Jesus when we come here, and you don’t feed us?” I set my sandwich down, because there was no point in eating it. I just couldn’t do it. Pastor Rob came in and gave me a hug and said “You know Hannah there are a bunch of kids in Florida that you can feed.”
.. ..
All week I just wanted to take just one of those kids in the room and give them my sandwich and have the translator tell them “Ok, I’m going to give you this, but you can’t tell anyone else. Do you understand? You can’t say anything to anyone.” I just wanted to give them food. We couldn’t because if you give some of them food, the next day you will have the whole village and you won’t have enough. Those kids eat once a day, maybe twice if they are lucky and the translator told us that it is usually rice or some kind of dish like that. So every day they would watch Americans come and build them a new church and work with their kids and then send them away so they could have their American lunch. That was the hardest thing for me. I would have preferred that we didn’t even bring lunch and just eat before and after, for that reason.
.. ..
I met another little boy who I was told had 7 other siblings, whose dad was in prison. He wore a long woman’s shirt every day for 5 days. The 6th day, he had another shirt underneath that one. He was filthy. We asked the kids one day about church, and one boy said he does not go to church because his parents do voodoo up in the mountains. I just looked at him and thought “You know, he is never going to have a good or an easy life. He is always going to be poor and dirty and most likely he is already being raised in voodoo and if something doesn’t happen to change his life, he is going to grow up and do it just like them.” It made me so sad. I heard all this stuff on the last day. I spent 2 weeks playing and laughing with these kids and then the day before I left, I learned about their lives. It really broke me.
.. ..
God filled me with compassion for PEOPLE not only children. He gave me a passion to love, and also a passion to see justice. Since Haiti He has awakened in me a desire to rescue, love and care for sick, orphaned, poor, abandoned, abused, mistreated and broken people that the world doesn’t even notice. But especially children. I want to see light in their eyes, and innocence back in their face and I want to see them smile. I remember asking God “WHY! WHY ARE THEY SO ABANDONED AND NEGLECTED AND IN SUCH PAIN? DON’T YOU CARE ABOUT THEM? WHY DO THEY SUFFER SO STRONGLY WHEN I HARDLY SUFFER AT ALL?! IT’S NOT FAIR, IT’S NOT FAIR!” I felt so powerless, so helpless to do anything. I could do nothing for them, to reach them. I want JUSTICE. God began to put in me such an ignited passion and I believe this is the start of what will become my life mission. I want to bring Jesus to the world and justice to the nations and I WANT TO SEE HEALING COME TO THE BROKEN ONES!
.. ..
Thank you all for reading and praying. I had an amazing experience and hopefully will have many more this coming year. I am trusting God to provide more money for me to travel and do more mission work.
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