Don't Speak (Edna's Story)

Kids should be seen and not heard...or something like that.  I am not really sure what that is supposed to mean, but I have heard it alot.  Sounds kind of dumb to me, but whatever, to each their own.

There is one kid, in particuluar, that I would love to hear the next time I see her.  Silence is deafening sometimes.  Hearing nothing can be really loud.

She talked on January 11th.  She talked January 10th and 9th too.  She talked alot of days before that day.  January 12th she stopped talking.  She hasn't talked since.

What is there about her silence that is so loud it keeps me awake at night?  I was on a porch with 24 girls, 23 of whom say "Daddy Matt..." followed by a question like 3 times every minute.  There was so much noise it sort of sounded like a swarm of bees was buzzing around.  It was that 24th girl, the one who hasn't talked in 9 months that was driving me nuts.  Her silence was a drum pounding in my head...it still is.

What is there in silence that gives her comfort?  What does it allow her to forget?  Maybe she just doesn't have anything to say.  She is only two, so it is not like I expect brilliant philisophical thoughts...but a word or two would be nice.  The house mom tells me that she has the ability to talk, just not the desire to.  What did she see that she doesn't want to talk about?  Her parents died in the earthquake.  Maybe she saw them die, maybe she didn't.  Who knows?  It is not like she has told anybody.  Either way they are gone.  Maybe she doesn't want to talk to anybody else except them.  Maybe she just doesn't know what to say.

Who can blame her?  What would you say in her shoes?  What would I say?  What is there to say?  The more I try to think about it, the more I side with her.  Maybe saying nothing is the best way to say everything.  If she talked I wouldn't be writing this.  You wouldn't know much about her story.  Silence...sometimes it says alot.

 

In Memory of Monise

They say it is better to have loved and lost than to have not loved at all. It is better to have experienced something great and lost it then to have never experienced it in the first place. Feeling something, sometime is better than feeling nothing, ever. Really? Is any of this true, or is ignorance truely bliss?

Running...laughing...dancing. Scenes running through my head, her beautiful face playing the lead. Crooked little teeth...so skinny you could see through her. Dress hanging off of her boney shoulders. Scenes I want to delete.

Sometimes the best things in life are the memories that you want to forget. They ignite you. They awaken you. They spur you on. They inspire you to do whatever you can to keep them from replaying in another persons life. It is the scenes that scare you that you remember. The ones that make you cry that you replay over and over. They are the ones that keep you awake at night. They are the ones that make it hard to breathe. They are the ones that change the world. Good memories make you smile...bad memories make you change.

There she was. Scared. Alone in a sea of people. Lost in the crowd. Forgotten. A face I had seen a hundred times before...I wish I could see it just one more time.

Injustice destroys life. It takes what has been built and it knocks it down. If grace is when you don't deserve something good but you get it anyway, what is it called when you didn't deserve something bad, but you got it anyway? Ungrace? Anti-grace? Life?

Life...something that we all get for free and lose at a price.

So here we are, the reality of now, literally worlds apart. I am here wondering what could have been. She is there, glad it's over. Maybe she just had enough. Maybe God looked down on her and decided that He could no longer let the injustice win. Maybe she had enough poverty, enough sickness, enough pain. Maybe this was her grace.

We may miss her. We may wonder "why" and ask "what if", or think about what we didn't do that we think we should have. We may ask questions that we will never have answers to. We can cry. We can be sad. We can even be angry and confused. We can also remember the time we had with her. A moment here. A memory there. The privalege of the time that we did get with her. We didn't do anything special to get to know her, but we had the honor. Maybe that was some of our grace.

So...they say it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. It's not that easy, it doesn't really work that way, it's not that simple...don't believe me? Try it.

I Don't Do Big Very Well

I arrived in Haiti for the second time post-quake roughly 90 days after it struck.  The first thing that I thought was that not much had changed since I was there last.  Still lots of buildings half-standing or crumbled into a pile.  Still all sorts of people everywhere.  Still tents all over, though way more this time than the last time.  Progress?  If you look real hard, you can see small outbreaks of it.  None of this, for whatever reason, was on my radar.

I am often way too concerned about the individual to take notice of the whole.  Often this gets me into trouble, but it is what it is, this is me.  I am not one to look out at the massive 2,000 tent village in what used to be a soccer field I'd drive by and think about 20,000 people living in there.  I drove past it last weekend and took note of the two kids, brother and sister perhaps, sitting along the edge in clothes it looked like they had been wearing since the day their world literally came crashing down.  I am not the right person to deal with the 20,000, I am the person to deal with the 2.  I get asked a lot "What about those 350,000 orphans in Haiti?  How do you help them all?"  The answer?  I am not concerned with 350,000 orphans.  That problem is beyond me.  There are people much wiser than I who can handle them.  I am concerned with about 250 of them that I know and love.

I don't do big.  I do one by one.  I am not a big fan of going into an area with 1,000 people and shaking their hands each once while giving them a box of food.  Not me.  I am much more inclined to sit with 15 kids for 3 hours and hug them all multiple times, talk about life and allow them to forget Janaury 12th for a while.  Make them smile and laugh, wipe away some tears, encourage them and show them love and grace.  I am more the guy who sat with Lovely at Good Samaritan last Saturday afternoon and studied US State Capitals with her for next weeks test while mixing in questions about how she is doing now living at the orphanage since the earthquake.  As we mixed up the capitals of the Dakota's, she shed a tear talking about the older sister she hasen't seen in a while.  I gave her a little hug, wiped her tear away and reminded her of Bismarck (north) and Pierre (south).  One kid, one moment, this is what I do. 

Don't get me wrong, the people who do big are literally saving the world.  They are heroes who feed kids and keep them alive.  I am just not one of them, it is not how I am wired.  It is not what I do well.  I am not good at keeping emotions out of it.  I am emotionally involved with each kid I know in Haiti.  I take everything with them personally.  They are sad, I am sad.  They are happy, I am happy.  That is just me, not going to change.  God made me this way, argue with Him about it if it is a problem.  I am just going to deal with it; this is me and this is what I do.   

Of course, does it really matter?  Who cares how I am wired or why I do what I do or say what I say?  Am I really important enough for you to care?  Not likely, and that is a good thing because none of this is about me.  I only write the above paragraphs so you have an idea behind what I am about to say and why I am about to say it.  It would be helpful to frame the following thoughts in the knowlege that I have no idea what to do with 350,000 orphans, or 8 hour feeding lines or corrupt governments.  Not my job.

So, what, then, is my job?  My job is Christella at Freedom Grace in Jacmel.  Christella who 18 months ago was a child slave in some God-forsaken corner of Haiti and today is a light that shines like a star in the night.  Christella, big bug eyes and all, who knows all about suffering and even more about love.  This is the girl who worked in abusive conditions from ages 8-10, but as an 11 year old is a mother figure to the other girls in her orphanage.  Where two years ago you would find her washing clothes or cleaning dishes before sleeping on the concrete floor, today you find her helping 2 year old Fabiola get dressed and carrying her lunch to school for her.  Once a giver, always a giver, but at least this time she is giving out of love, not out of fear.

Christella gives and gives, more than I think I will ever know.  Maybe she has given too much already, like her childhood.  So, what is my job?  What does a small picture guy like me do?  I spend as much time listening to Christella as I can.  I make her laugh.  I do things for her like carry her bag, hold her hand, kiss her cheek and goof around with her.  I pray with her and pray for her.  I make her feel like she doesn't have to give, at least for a few days.  For a few days she can just be an 11 year old girl.  Not a former slave, not a little momma, just a kid.  Sometimes being nothing for a day is everything you ever wanted.

I am bad at big, good at little.  I have a hard time talking to adults, they are confusing.  I know, I am one of them, and I confuse myself most days.  They have all sorts of preconcieved notions about things they really know nothing about.  They think they can fix the whole world even though they have very little idea what the world is like.  They think that their little bit of life experience makes them experts on everybodies experiences.  I do to, I am guilty as charged.  I don't do big very well.

That is why as I walked towards Freedom House in the twilight last Friday night and heard "Matt" in a tiny little voice, I was ready to go to work.  Somebody was looking for me.  One person, I do one person really well.  Out of the shadow walked Deborah, a sweet 12 year old I have know for years.  She used to live one place, and now lives in another, but found me none the less.  She needed to talk.  I needed to listen.  This is what I do.       

You know who does big picture really well?  Haitian kids.  They do it much better than me.  One day, maybe I can be a little bit more like them.  They don't look at today, they don't seem to dwell on yesterday, they are forever fixed upon tomorrow.  Even though it seems most days like the tomorrow they are dreaming of will never come, they dream none the less.  Better to strive for something that you may never reach than to do nothing at all, right?  Movement is always better that stagnation.  Hope is always better than giving up.

Giving up...not so sure this has a translation in Creole.  Giving up just doesn't seem like an option.  My great friend Pastor Abraham built a school for 600 kids out of bamboo, leaves, old sheets and tarps a few weeks ago so the earthquake didn't rob the communities kids of their education too.  It can have the buildings if it wants, but it isn't going to take away their learning.  Education is the key to success, it is the last great hope for breaking the cycle of poverty.  The earthquake didn't stop Abraham, it was just one more way to look evil in the face, laugh and keep on with his mission.  Abraham, big picture guy.

So what does all this mean?  Why have I now written for a half an hour about 3 kids, 1 pastor and a whole bunch of things that go on in my head?  Does big picture and small picture matter?  Doesn't it take both to change the world?  Lots of questions...if you're looking for answers, you're asking the wrong guy.  Those are big picture questions...I am a little picture guy.

Ask me about Yviolene's impression of Max or the way she smiles when you tickle her.  Ask me about Fabiola's favorite color.  Ask me about Jessica's thoughts about her mother.  Ask me about how Linsley shakes her hips when the music starts playing or the way that looking into her eyes changes your life.  Ask me about why Mirlande is so shy and Jesula is so wild.

God bless the big picture people.  Haiti would be a nightmare without the UN, World Vision and Save The Children, to name just a few, right now.  Millions of living kids would otherwise be dead without them.  They are some of the heroes of the narrative of this travesty.  They are big picture and their big picture literally saves the lives of children.  Good for them, I pray they continue to do their work.

It just not my work.  I can't do it.  It is not what I go to bed at night thinking about and wake up in the morning mulling over.  I fall to sleep wondering about where Carmesuze is sleeping tonight.  I wake up concerned for the scabies the little boy at Petionville has.  I wonder how Nostaline remembers her parents and how Cynthia is making out in her new Canadian-Army-built bunk house.  Not such important stuff to most people, but important to me.  It may seem like little things, things that aren't life and death, things that don't matter in the big picture of Haiti...but there we go again, big picture, well, that's just not me...I don't do big very well.       

Quoting Tara

   All of us involved in Haiti have had to answer the question of why the earthquake happened.  I have struggled my way through some answers, but the best one I read is on the blog of full-time missionaries that I met briefly last year and then spent some more time with when in Haiti earlier this month.  Tara Livesay said on her blog yesterday:

"There is no "reason" for this earthquake - well, other than some tectonic plates moving around. That's all. It was not so a bunch of adoptive parents could get their kids home (like God loves them so much He sent an earthquake to get their kids home on Humanitarian Parole). It is not so the world would recognize and learn about Haiti (although I suppose that is good). It is not because God is punishing Haitians for something that happend 200 years ago in some Voudou ceremony (sorry Pat Robertson). The reason it happened is simple - uninteresting - laws of geology. We don't need theologians to tell us. We don't need to debate."

   Very well said Tara.  It is a lot simpler than we try to make it.  We try to makes the questions of why so much harder than they have to be.

MATT

Anderson Cooper returned to Haiti today.  Check out his blog:

http://ac360.blogs.cnn.com/2010/02/08/why-im-back-in-haiti/#comments

Anderson has been, in my opinion, the only reporter trying hard to focus on the resolve, power and hope of the Haitian people.  He was there for our team when we asked him for some help. 

Rock on Anderson!

I have been asked about 4,312 times since returning from Haiti last week what I experienced there. Was it fear? Was it shock? Perhaps death? Suffering? Starvation? What is the one overarching thing that saw in Haiti on this Rescue and Relief Trip? If I could boil it down to one thing, what would that one thing be?


My answer lies in the eyes of the kids of the Good Samaritan, Freedom House and Leogane orphanages. It doesn’t fit into piles of rubble. It doesn’t fit into body bags passing Jeff and I by at the US military base. It doesn’t quite fit into the CNN reporting of the one or two bad things that happen each day and not the 10,000 good things. It isn’t about governments or military forces. It isn’t about fallen schools or crushed dreams.

The one thing that I found in their eyes was hope. Hope is what followed me out of Haiti and back to Pennsylvania. When Gamealle sits on Jeff’s lap, I see hope in her eyes. When Marv and Sandra sit together and read a letter from home, I see hope. When Stephanie sits in Doug’s arms happy and content, it is hope that brings them together. When Marie-Ange embraced me upon my arrival, it was hope that wrapped its arms around me.

When we drove to Leogane and saw the orphanage in its current form as a pile of rubble we didn’t see much hope. Then, we turned the corner and saw 100 faces thrilled to see us. I didn’t see any fear. I didn’t see any anger. I didn’t see any confusion or pain. I saw 100 pairs of eyes full of hope. When I talked with Cynthia about the earthquake she answered my questions, but kept repeating how happy she was that we were there. We hadn’t given them anything yet. She had no idea if we would. She was happy we were there because we had the privilege to represent hope. Our presence, coming in their time of need no matter the risk involved, showed her that there is hope, that everything will be okay, that they are not alone.

The kids of Haiti have every excuse to be stuck in shock and fear. They have every right to be scared and let life pass them by. The world could keep spinning, but they could sit still. Nobody would fault them for that. That, however, is not the Haiti that I know. When we arrived at Freedom House the girls were doing laundry and dishes. They were singing and doing their chores. Life was going on. This earthquake was not going to stop them; it was not going to keep them down. When they had every right to sit back and be scared in the face of immense tragedy, they took a stand and continued on with their lives. When they could choose between fear and hope they chose hope.

Hope isn’t about fixing everything quickly. Hope isn’t about politics and economy. Hope isn’t about infrastructure or concrete. Hope is about tomorrow. Hope is about a day somewhere down the line. Hope is about what might be, not what already is.

There is a choice to be made in Haiti right now. There is a choice for all of us to make in our response. We can look at the scale of the tragedy and be overwhelmed. We can look at the mass graves and fallen buildings and hang our heads in sorrow. We can see millions sleeping in tent cities and standing in line all day for one meal and get frustrated at what we think should be happening instead. We all have the rights to make these choices.

We also have the right to choose hope. We have the opportunity to choose life instead. We can sit back and criticize, or we can stand up and lend a hand. We can say it is too scary, or too unsafe or too hard or too much for us to handle. We can list all of the reasons why Haiti is too big now for us now. The problems were so big before, now they are ten times bigger. It has become just too much for us. The problem is bigger than we are. We can be confused and angry; overwhelmed and lost in the chaos. We can be all of those things and see all of those problems, that is who we are as humans. We get scared. We get angry. We are eternally confused. I have been all of those things over the past month and I am some of those things right now. I can choose to let them consume me, but I choose hope instead.

Good Samaritan is choosing hope. Freedom House and Freedom Grace are choosing hope. Leogane Orphanage is choosing hope. If the kids whose world crumbled in front of their eyes are choosing to look for that day in the future when everything is okay and live their lives for that hope, then I will stand with them. We won’t leave you stranded…

Rescue and Relief Review (Part One)

If you want s step-by-step review of the mission, check out Jeff and Deb's awesome blog @: denlingerhaiti.blogspot.com

I am not going to repeat what they said so well. Instead, I am going to give a few personal comments:

- Anderson Cooper is a really nice guy. After Jeff chased him down by foot (all that marathon training paying off), he took about 15 minutes to talk to us and give us some good contacts.

- Jeff is really good at opening and closing bus bathroom doors...he is also well suited to hold people's children while they use said bathroom.

- The Good Samaritan kids will never cease to amaze me with their hearts of gold. Here they were, earthquake survivors, singing praises as if they don'ty have a worry in the world. So the next time we get mad at God for something small and stupid, let's think about these kids whose world literally crashed down in front of them and only made their faith stronger.

- Corn Flakes are like steak and lobster...apparently.

- Saudi Arabia makes really nice flourecent orange tarps...and Johnnie can build you a house out of them if you want him to!

- I walked into Freedom House to find 6 of the girls washing clothes and 7 of the girls washing dishes. They stood up, kissed me, and went back to happily working and singing...2 weeks post-earthquake that made me happy to see.

- An American passport, a Secret Service shirt and a Red Sox hat can pretty much get you anything you want in Haiti right now.

- As we had great success getting our orphanages supplies, Jeff and I were reminded of the seriousness of the moment as we stood outside the hospital at the US military base and full body bags went by.

- My angels: Marie-Ange, Maya, Cynthia, Junior, Richard, Lovely, Jessica and Mirlande (to name a few) continue to speak truth into the scripture that says "...some people have entertained angels without even knowing it" (Hebrews 13:2)

- God + willing servants = an unbeatable team

- Random women at warehouse "Do you guys have any need for Shelter Boxes?" - Jeff and Matt "Not sure, but give us the contact info anyway." - A few hours later, Dave Locke "Hey Matt, the Jacmel girls have no shelter, any ideas to help them?" - Matt "Oh...yeah, I think I have an idea." - And yet some people wonder if God has abandoned Haiti.

- The Dominican Army soldiers we spent the night with at the border were great...but the Canadians also sleeping there were goofy, to say it in a nice way.

- Very few things can make you smile like 4 Sri Lanken army soldier grinning from ear to ear as they hand out cookies to orphans

- If you're a one-eyed dog, you should be honored to have been given the name "Blinky" by the missionaries...you now live in infamy

- Mmmmmm...spaghtetti and hot dog

- In the words of Jay-Z "When the sky falls and the earth quakes, we're gonna' put this back together, we won't break...can't wait until tomorrow, Haiti my love, we're not gonna' leave you stranded"