Two Options

When I told people I was coming to live in Haiti for a year, I had many reactions. Some people were genuinely happy for me; lots of people were taken aback and looked at me like I was crazy for wanting to live in a third world country for a year. Everyone has been so supportive of my choice whether they understand or not. Thank you all for taking this journey with me! We’re almost halfway through, and I’ve learned so much from my time here and, believe it or not, from you! That’s for a different blog post though. This one is about a lesson God has taught me the past two weeks.

Perspective. When people see Haiti, what they have one of two opinions.

Opinion One: This place is dirty, smells bad, and seems hopeless. They focus on the trash lining the streets and in the river. They see the hard faces people in the markets sitting day in and day out waiting for people to buy something from their little stand.  They see the cars and motorcycles weaving in and out of traffic, hear the horns honking and people yelling and think- this place is crazy. No rules, no regard for others… it’s hopeless. There is nothing I can do here to help; take me home NOW!

Opinion Two looks a little different. These people see the trash lining the streets and are aware of the hard faces. But they also see the smiles of the children. Instead of seeing the car that is driving way too quickly through the market, they see the good Samaritans that are pushing people to the side of the road to protect them. Instead of seeing the destruction and devastation from so many hardships, they see resilience, determination, and most of all hope. They see promise for the future and want to help.

When I first arrived in Haiti in 2010, I saw destruction but for some reason, I fell in love. I saw the dirt and the trash and the children with no clothes and the babies with disabilities who had been abandoned and so many other things that broke my heart. But thankfully, God allowed me to also see the beauty through the suffering. Five years later, I’m living as a full time missionary here. I’m teaching seven children who have been through so much trauma in their early lives. We work every day on staying in their seats and raising their hands to speak. We have been working on 10 sight words for the past two months. We were making what I thought was great progress, but then Christmas break happened. Literally everything that I had taught them had been forgotten. I’m not talking about a little regression…. I’m saying that it was like someone had come in and taken everything that I had taught them. It was gone. We were starting all over with letter names and sounds, blends, and number recognition. This is very common for children who have been severely malnourished during the time when their brain is developing. It felt hopeless, guys. I wondered what I was doing here with these kids who were struggling to learn. It seemed like I was fighting an uphill battle and working towards a lost cause.

But God used a lesson at Sunday school to show me a new perspective. His. I was teaching seven of His children, who were made in His image. I had the privilege to see their sweet smiles and receive their hugs. Was their endless chatter, name calling, questions, and tattle tale-ing annoying? YES! But, look for one minute through God’s eyes. Don’t we all do the same thing as my children? “God, did you see how unfairly my boss treated me today?” “God, I please help me with this lesson that you’ve been trying to teach me for so long. I thought I learned it already, but I guess I forgot… ” “God, I messed up…. but it’s not my fault! He/she tempted me!” Yet, God doesn’t become frustrated. He doesn’t sigh or roll His eyes. He loves us as much as He loves His own Son. When I step back from my frustration and annoyance and look through God’s lense, I see seven children who are hurting. I see seven beautiful, smart children who are looking for someone to tell them that they are special. I see seven children who want someone to notice that them and comfort them. When a student is tattling on another student and I dismiss it, I’m telling them that their problems aren’t important. When I have received nine hugs from one student in an hour and I push away the tenth, I’m telling that child that I don’t want their love.

It is such a hard lesson to learn. I don’t like hugs or people hanging on me all the time, especially when it’s hot. I get annoyed with all the tattle tale-ing that my students do. I reached a point where I was so frustrated with all the things going wrong in my classroom that I forgot to look at all the things going right. After that Sunday, I asked God to help me see things from His perspective. I’m not magically fixed. I can’t always see the bright side or see the good right away. For example, a student bit me Thursday. I went up to the house to talk to Ms. Katelyn and Mr. Lackis only to find that the student hid the note home and lied about his behavior that day. I was so MAD! When that child ran up to hug me, I stepped back and told him I didn’t want hugs from someone who hurt me. He looked genuinely confused and hurt. “I’m sorry, Miss Brittany,” he said, with his arms outstretched. He waited patiently for me to accept his apology. I told him, “it’s okay” and halfheartedly gave him a hug. “Miss Brittany, you’re supposed to tell me you forgive me,” he said, as he was crushing me in a huge hug. At that point, I was still so mad and annoyed with him that I didn’t want to. But God opened my eyes at that moment and said, Britt… he apologized without you asking him to. Would that have happened five months ago when you first got here? Look! Something you taught him stuck!  Looking at the situation through God’s eyes was hard, but I had to laugh. Something I taught this kid had stuck. It might not have been the letter names or sounds, it might not have been math or science, but it was something that would be of even greater use to him throughout his life. God has me here for a reason. When I look at the world through His lenses, I can see hope.

I don’t do this often, but I want to challenge you this week. Try to use God’s perspective this week. In both the hard times and the good, I want to challenge you to see things how God sees things. It is so easy to become downcast and frustrated in our daily lives. It’s easy to complain and bicker, to focus on negative things like weight gain, traffic, unruly kids, unfair bosses, and so much more. These things are trash. Don't focus on them. Stop and ask God to help you see things from His viewpoint. Only then can we see beauty, worth, life, and hope.

"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.... You are serving the Lord Christ." ~ Colossians 3:23-24

Because He LIVES

I wrote this blog post two Monday's ago, but I forgot I'd written it. While thinking of what I wanted to write today, I remembered that I had a post already ready to go! Sorry I've been holding out on you guys! :) 

Last night, I was able to FaceTime my Bible Fellowship Group from Ashland Ave. Baptist Church of Madison County. I hadn’t seen their faces in five months and though I knew that I missed them due to the pang in my heart when I saw their Facebook statuses, I had no idea the depth of this emotion. They asked me what was difficult about being down here. Here’s the thing about that question- it almost always makes me cry. It’s like there is a canopy in my heart. Things like homesickness and loneliness and pain are held up in that canopy that is delicately draped to protect the rest of my heart from feeling them. Sometimes when I feel a twinge of homesickness I can push it away to the canopy and move on. I’m not saying this is the best way to deal with emotions, but it’s how it happens. Sometimes, a small hole gets poked in the fragile shelter and the memories of home and the people I love start dripping through. I can usually patch this hole by distracting myself with something else- the kids at the home, a good book, my Bible study, or a movie. Last night, I cried a little but I held myself together while I finished talking to my BFG.  After I hung up though, the patch fell away and a giant hole was opened up. I was pounded by a waterfall of emotions. Everything that I had stored up in the canopy for the past few months was released in an overwhelming wave.

I cried. No, cried isn’t a strong enough verb. I wept. I blubbered. I sobbed. I wailed. I cried so hard that no noise came out of my mouth; it hung open like a fish gasping for breath though it’s on land. My lungs physically hurt every time I tried to breathe and at one point I was convinced I was going to hurl everywhere. I say this not so that you will pity me. I don’t want you to think, that poor thing, living in a third world country all by herself. I say this so you will know the depth of my emotions. I text my friends and family and asked for prayer. It sounds so silly, but the thing I wanted most was not encouraging words or Bible verses to strengthen me. What I craved most was a massive bear hug from my dad. I wanted to collapse into his strong arms and have him tell me I would be okay. Unfortunately, his arms were over 1500 miles away. My friend Katelyn reminded me that while my earthly father’s arms were unable to provide for my need, my heavenly father’s arms were open wide and waiting for me. I was hesitant, reluctant almost. I wanted a physical hug, but I knew she was right. I fell and surrendered. Thank goodness God knows what I’m saying even when I can’t find the words because I was too short of breath to speak!

My God provides all that I can ask for or even imagine! That’s definitely a recurring theme for my trip to Haiti! Last night he provided a friend for me to talk to, someone to sit with me as a cried, to lick the tears off my face. No! Not a real person, crazy! He sent me Snoopy, our street dog turned guard dog turned guardian. Snoopy sat with me while I cried, he let me hug him (yay for answered prayers for a hug!) and sat in my room until I fell asleep. This is not the first time God has sent this dog to comfort me, but it’s one of the first times I truly appreciated it.

This morning, I sat in devotion with puffy eyes and a hard heart. I did not want to teach today; I wanted to curl up in my bed and watch movies and read letters from home. But I knew that I needed to pull myself together and go to work. Then, we sang these words:

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow                     

Because He lives, all fear is gone.                             

Because I know, yes I know,                                   

He holds the future                                                   

And life is worth the living just                                 

Because He lives.                                                       

Mwen konnen l' vivan, m'ap konte dou demen
Paske l' vivan enkytid mwen yo ale
Paske m' konnen, o m' konnen
Li se tout lavi mwen
M'ap konte jou pou l' vin cheche m'
Paske l' vivan

Wow. That chorus. Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. Let’s forget about tomorrow. Because He lives, I can face today. Because He lives, all my fear is gone. All my heartache. All my homesickness. All my loneliness. All my pain…. It’s gone! Praise God, He holds my future! And my life here in Haiti is worth the living just because My Savior lives. It’s difficult here, but you know what, I have no doubt that life would be difficult living in America right now too, though undoubtedly in different ways. Though I miss home, my life in Haiti has a purpose. I may not be able to see it all the time. I may doubt the impact I’m making. But these lyrics reminded me today that I was called here for a reason. God wants me here and my life here needs to be lived out. While it’s okay to have moments of weakness and sit in my room all night thinking of home, I have a purpose here that I’m supposed to be living out! And that purpose is worth it!

The hole in my heart was patched this morning. It was sewn together by my God, who loves me more than He loves His own Son. He sent His Son to die for me so that in my moments of weakness I don’t have to be alone. I can be comforted by the fact that my Savior died for me, yes, but more than that He is living right now and He is holding not just my future, but me, my very self, in His hands and saying “My daughter, it’s going to be okay because I live!” 

This Will Be Funny In Five Years.... Part II

When I left you last, we were boarding a charter bus heading to Ile a Vache. Two of our suitcases had just been stolen, but surprisingly, my family was in good spirits. Unfortunately, we weren’t quite out of the woods yet. Our bus driver, as it turns out, must have been employed as a racecar driver in his previous life, because he whipped that charter bus around sharp turns and up mountains at 70mph. I began to feel a little sick as we drove, so I laid my head down on my dad’s shoulder to sleep. After a few minutes he pushed my head off his shoulder, hurriedly said that he needed to check on mom, and ran off. Jake walked up to me and nonchalantly said, “So you know that pretzel bag? We won’t be having anymore pretzels… Mom threw up,” and he resumed playing with his phone. Could this day get any worse??? I felt awful. This trip was NOT turning out the way I had planned or pictured.

I’m so thankful for my wonderful family. They took this all in stride. They kept smiling and comforting me, though they were the ones having a miserable vacation. After four hours, we reached the city of Cayes. A driver that worked for Abaka Bay was supposed to be at the station to pick us up. If you had a guess, according to the way our trip was going so far, do you think he was there? Nope. I could see that this fact made Mom and Dad nervous. We waited somewhat patiently for about twenty minutes before he showed up. At this point, I’m just thanking God that he actually DID show up. He puts our suitcases in the back of a pick-up truck and we all just about have a panic attack. Jacob and I spent the whole drive turned around in our seats watching to make sure we didn’t have a repeat of this morning’s events. The driver got a kick out of this, repeatedly assuring us that we had nothing to fear. To be honest, before 6:00 that morning I would have had nothing to fear. I’d lived in Haiti for four months and never had heard of anyone getting their possessions stolen. In fact, before 6:00 that morning I was the one assuring Mom and Dad that there was nothing to fear. It’s sad how one desperate person and one desperate act can change your whole view.

Next thing we know, the driver is dropping us off at the pier, where six Haitian men are waiting to help us with our bags. We hop onto the boat and sit like a bobber on the end of a fishing pole in the ocean. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. My poor mom’s stomach can’t handle this movement on a good day, let alone on a day where she’s already feeling queasy. We sat for a half hour before we actually began moving. Twenty minutes later we arrived at the most beautiful place I have ever set my eyes on. Wow. We were greeted at the pier by flowers and drinks, just like in the movies! Unfortunately, everyone was too grumpy and tired to really appreciate these tokens. We were lead to the most adorable little beach houses. Holy moly guys, this place was spectacular. We spent the rest of the day swimming, napping, and trying to recover from this morning.

This part is the part that cracks me up every time I look back, the only part that I didn’t have to wait five years to be able to find funny. Dinner was served at 7:30, so being the Americans that we are, we showed up promptly at 7:29. All four of us were wearing our travel clothes- black sweatpants and t-shirts with light jackets. On our way to the dock that held the restaurant, I asked an employee if we were dressed okay for dinner. This place seemed pretty fancy. He looked me up and down and said, “Of course!” Wrong. So, so wrong. My face turned redder and redder as I watched the guests enter the dock in formal attire. Wearing suits and ties, formal dresses, heels, and pearls. I was so incredibly embarrassed and wondered if this night could get any worse. The funny thing with that question is that while it is often meant as a rhetorical question, it almost always is answered with a yes. It turns out that we were seated at a table in close proximity to a speaker blaring the saxophone that was that night’s entertainment. We couldn’t even hold a conversation, even when we were yelling across the table. For the next two hours, we sat in silence. Occasionally, someone would try to cheer everyone else up with a joke or attempt a small conversation but after a few tries, even that ceased. We were tired, grumpy, embarrassed and hungry, with some of us on the verge of being hangry. It was 9:00 before the appetizer of clam salad was served and 9:30 before we received our actual meal, though dinner was supposed to begin at 7:30. Haitian time is NOT American time. Finally, at 10:15 we made our way back to our beachfront cottage and tried to erase the day’s memories with sleep. It was a crazy Christmas Day; one I will never be able to forget. It’s been two weeks now, and I’m still not laughing about our experiences yet, but I know it was all part of God’s plan. It was definitely not how I wanted to spend my first day of actual vacation with my family.

I’m thankful to say that the rest of the trip brightened considerably after Christmas Day. We spent our days in the ocean and our nights together watching movies in a giant king bed. Each day, we went on some sort of adventure. Jacob, Dad, and I went out in a water taxi to find a good place to snorkel. We found a reef and spotted all sorts of beautiful, if small, fish. We had so much fun playing around with the go-pro underwater- taking videos and photos of each other swimming, or diving down to try to get up close and personal with the little fish. I could have spent all day out in the water. We got a tour of part of the island and I got to actually sit in grass for the first time in over four months! (Side note: It was not as grand of an idea as I thought because of the crazy amount of bug bites that resulted from it!) We also walked up the side of a mountain in order to get the most breathtaking view of the island. We passed goats, cows, horses, chicken and sheep. Children ran out of their houses yelling "Bonswa!" (good afternoon)  about 100 times each. One day, we rented small, yellow kayaks and took them out into the ocean. We went out about a mile from the shore and enjoyed paddling around and being pushed by the waves…. Until a wave pushed water into the hollow underbelly of Dad’s kayak. He couldn’t stay upright for more than a few seconds. With so much water inside it, a slight shift to the left or right sent the whole kayak toppling over. We struggled with the dumb thing for a solid hour- each of us tried to get in the kayak and balance in case the others were lying about how difficult it was- to no avail. After an hour of sitting in the middle of the ocean, I began to get that queasy feeling that was plaguing Mom on the bus and the boat. Crap. Thankfully I was able to think quickly and dove into the water to cool my body off and prevent myself from spewing all over the place. We eventually gave up trying to sit inside the kayak and decided that Dad would swim to shore towing the kayak behind him. We were about ¾ of a mile out from the nearest beach and probably another half mile from the Abaka Bay beach. Tell ya what, ¾ of a mile seems like an insanely long way in the ocean!! Long story short, we finally made it to the beach and walked all three kayaks back in waist deep water. We pulled the kayaks through a group of Haitian children swimming naked and Jacob made a friend when one hopped on the back of his kayak, hooting and hollering to all his friends. I’ve never seen my brother so embarrassed! “Ok, he can get off now.” “Okay, I’m definitely not touching the back of my kayak anymore…” “Ok but really, when is he going to get off?” Well, at least I had fun on the kayaks!

My mom loves to get up early in the mornings, while the rest of us prefer to sleep in. It turns out a lot of other people like to get up early too, so Mom met a lot of new friends in the five days we were on the island. She met a family from New York, a group from Ohio, the owners of Abaka Bay, and the sweetest and most interesting couple, who it turns out was on their flight from Haiti to Atlanta! We made fun of her for being such a Chatty Cathy, but it turns out God was using all these encounters for our good and His glory. I know, I know, this shouldn’t be such a surprise, but sometimes I forget that everything that happens is for God’s glory and is part of His plan.

So on the morning that we were waiting for the kayaks to be ready, one of Mom’s new friends asks to speak with her alone. They walk to a nearby tree and I see the woman hand my mom a small bag and see my mom dissolve into tears. They speak for a little while longer before hugging and parting. Mom walks back over to us and chokes up again as she tells us of the exchange. A few days earlier, Mom told this woman our story about the stolen luggage and how now Mom is sharing clothes with me and she doesn’t have a toothbrush or enough sunscreen to last but one more day. Mom opens the bag and we see a skirt, brand new underwear, a tank top, a new toothbrush, toothpaste, sunscreen, mouthwash and crackers. Now we’re all in tears…. well, three of us are and Jacob is trying really hard to look like he doesn’t know us. I’ve only seen my dad cry a few times, but this small gift meant so much coming from a complete stranger. My God provides for all that we can ask for or even imagine!

It’s safe to say that we made so many memories on this vacation that will be impossible to erase. While I anticipated it would be a vacation to remember, I never imagined it would be quite like that. I never anticipated our suitcases would be stolen. I never thought we would spend two hours a night waiting for dinner to be served. I never imagined that there would be lizards inside our bedrooms and coconuts falling on our tin roofs. However, I never imagined how many people we would meet and how God would provide for our needs. I never thought that we would make friends on this trip or that it would be so hard to leave.  I never pictured how close our family would get on this trip and how much we would learn about each other. We laughed with each other, cried with each other, and felt just about every other emotion in between. I wouldn’t have wanted to share this experience with anyone else in the world. Saying goodbye to my family and knowing I won’t see them for the next five months is incredibly difficult. I never realized how much I needed them. Isn’t that true of so many things in our lives? We take it for granted until it is taken from us. I’ve said it before, but I want to say it again- how lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so difficult.

"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.... You are serving the Lord Christ." ~ Colossians 3:23-24

This Will Be Funny In Five Years.... Part I

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone!! Wow, this past week has been a whirlwind… It’s going to take a while to share all the stories and crazy experiences with you. It all started… well, wow, I guess it all began several months before my trip began. I was shopping with my mom for bathing suits and I found two that I absolutely loved. I just couldn’t decide between the two. “Britt, why don’t you get both so that when we come to visit you, you can wear one while the other is drying,” my mom told me. Little did I know, that was God making sure we were prepared. His timing is funny sometimes, if you stop and think about it.

My family arrived in Haiti on December 23^rd. I had been counting down to this moment for months. I planned it all out in my mind; who I would hug first, what I would say… in my mind, our reunion was joyous and lengthy. This is Haiti though. My family’s flight landed at 2:30 and since the airport is so close and they needed to get through customs, I had planned on leaving the school at 2:30 so we wouldn’t have to wait for forever in the truck. Well, 2:30 comes and Edmond, our driver, is nowhere to be found. No one knows where he went or when he will return. 2:40 comes and I’m panicking. I know my family will be panicking if they walk out of the airport and don’t see me. I don’t want them to be stuck, wandering around in an unfamiliar place where they don’t know the language with six large suitcases. Finally, a team member offers to drive me to the airport in our big blue truck. Yay!! We get into the truck and…. hit a massive traffic jam. Keep in mind, I have no way to contact my mom or dad since they don’t have a Haitian cell phone. I can’t warn them that we’ll be late; in fact, I’ve promised them for three weeks that I would absolutely, positively be there waiting for them when they walked out. Do you see why I’m anxious? We sit in the traffic jam for about 45 minutes (it usually takes 10 to get to the airport.) At this point, I’m on the verge of tears (a common theme for this trip). I just want to see my family. They’re so close, yet I can’t get to them. Finally, we’re sitting in the last little bit of traffic when a Haitian man comes up to my window, scaring the crap out of me. “I have your people.” Ummm what? He points and there’s my dad! The only dude out there over 6ft tall and the only one with white skin. I jump out of the truck and run to greet him…. only to see him turn and walk away.  Not quite the reunion I was picturing in my head. (I found out later that he wasn’t ignoring me, he just had to go get my mom and Jacob who he left to guard to bags.) We pulled into the airport parking lot to wait for them to come back. After what feels like forever, but was really only 3 minutes, they come walking to our truck. I hop out again and help them throw the bags in the back, give mom and real quick hug, and then we hop back in because we were blocking traffic, even though the Haitian parking attendant told us to park there. We were so rushed and Haitians were yelling at us to get the suitcases in and hurry up. It wasn’t like what I had planned or imagined, and everyone was plenty frustrated with the way the day was going so far, but I didn’t care. My family was here. The two things I loved the most were finally colliding. I was on cloud nine.

Even though they were crazy overwhelmed, my family humored me by letting me give them a tour of the school and introducing them to everyone at the children’s home before going back to the hotel. The next day we spent the majority of the day frantically sorting and wrapping presents for the children. It took A LOT longer than anyone was expecting. All the big boys received new Adidas sandals, shorts and a t-shirt, along with headphones, deodorant, body spray, and a personalized backpack. The little boys all got a personalized t-shirt, headphones, a matchbox car, a DVD and a donated item of clothing. The little girls made out like bandits, with each of them receiving a personalized t-shirt, several other skirts/dresses/tank tops/t-shirts, hair doodads, headphones, nail polish, body spray, a DVD, lip gloss, make-up, and a small doll. The big girls all got several new outfits, a personalized backpack, lip gloss, nail polish, and headphones. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO DONATED!! This would not have been possible without you, and I cannot thank you enough. I am overwhelmed by how much you gave and I wish you could have been there to see the looks on these kids’ faces when they opened up their gifts. I wish you could have seen their eyes light up and you could have heard their squeals of excitement. We tried to video it all to share with you but I’m not sure how it came out yet. We let the kids open the presents on Christmas Eve, after a dinner of hot dogs, mac and cheese, and chips. It will definitely be a Christmas Eve that I will never forget. After the presents were opened and the trash cleared away, Mr. Lackis set off fireworks!! So much fun! Finally, we had to say our goodbyes and go back to the hotel for hot showers (amazing!) and a short sleep before leaving early the next morning.

We had to be up and ready for Edmond to drive us to the bus station by 5:30. Shew that time of day should be illegal. I was so incredibly tired and not looking forward to a long day of travel. We were going to a small island called Ile a Vache- literally, Island of Cows. It required a four hour bus ride, a ten minute car ride to the harbor, and a 20 minute boat ride. We all piled into the white pickup truck and loaded four suitcases into the back. Jacob and I thought about sitting in the back, but as it was still dark and a little chilly, we decided to squeeze into the cab with everyone else. Here’s where our story gets interesting. Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the bus station and go to retrieve our bags, only to find two in the bed of the truck. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe it. Someone went and stole two of our bags on Christmas Day. Christmas stinking Day! We realized that the thief got Mom’s bag and Jacob’s duffel bag. Everyone, including Edmond, was in disbelief. I’ve been in Haiti three different times, totaling about six months, and I’ve never known anyone who has gotten their belongings stolen, especially out of the back of a moving truck. We never stopped and only slowed down to about 15 miles per hour. These guys were quick. So many emotions were going through my head. Anger that someone would steal my family’s things. Relief that it wasn’t my suitcase that was stolen. Guilt that I was happy my things were still there when my mom and my brother were left with literally the clothes on their back. Sadness that my family would probably now hate the country I had come to love, all because of a desperate person. I’ll admit it, I cried. I felt as though it were partly my fault that their luggage was stolen. I should have sat in the back. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have asked them to leave home. If they were still in America, they would still have their things. And then God spoke to me, in a small, small voice. You know when someone tells you something you don’t want to hear and it just makes you angrier? Yeah, that was me. “It’s just stuff, Brittany.” God told me. “They only took worldly possessions that can be replaced. They probably really needed it. Have faith, child.” Man, that lit my fire. I was so mad. They needed it, so I was supposed to be okay with the fact that my brother and mom lost the only clothes they brought with them? I was supposed to be okay with it because it was just stuff? It’s Christmas Day for crying out loud! They were already sacrificing a lot to come to Haiti to be with me, now they had to sacrifice even more, and be okay with it? I spent the rest of the morning alternating between tears of sadness and tears of anger. My family, bless their hearts, were already laughing at the unfortunate situation we were in and doing their best to comfort me.

Remember at the beginning of this post, where I told you this story started with buying two bathing suits? Looking back at the story now, a week after it happened, I can see God’s hand. . Mom lost the only pairs of shorts she owned, several t-shirts and tank tops, two pairs of flip flops, her favorite pajamas, and her bathing suit. All she had to wear were sweatpants, tennis shoes, a tank top, and a sweatshirt. Now how are you supposed to vacation in Haiti on a beach with sweatpants and tennis shoes?! But God knew. God knew that I would need two bathing suits. God knew from that moment, back in July, that my family’s bags would be stolen and He provided a way for us all to enjoy the vacation. I’m thankful that, though two bags were stolen, we were left with a girl bag and a boy bag. How awful would it have been to have both girl bags stolen? Or worse, have both boy bags! Picturing my dad and brother trying to enjoy a Caribbean vacation wearing my basketball shorts and tank tops brings a smile to my face. I may not be laughing about it yet, but hey, I still have four years and 51 weeks left :) 

"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.... You are serving the Lord Christ." ~ Colossians 3:23-24