Sometimes Being a Mom Means...

Imagine being 4 years old.  Imagine that you live way up in the mountains of Haiti and your mom is very sick.  Your dad is dead.  Your mom, despite her sickness, works brutal days making charcoal out of trees.  She gets even sicker.  She gets even weaker, and there you are.  You are 4.  You are hungry.  Your mom is hungry.  What do you do?
    If you are Garry, you somehow make your way into town, into the yard of the biggest school in town.  You find the man in charge, in this case Pastor Abraham Comper.  You tell him about your mom and you ask him for help.  Remember, you are 4 years old.
    This is the story of how Garry came to be a part of the family at Freedom House Grace Boys in Jacmel.  Pastor Abraham took him back to his mom, with food and some money for her to see the doctor.  Despite her intense love for her son, she knows that she will never be able to provide for him.  She can’t make enough charcoal to sell and make a living for her and Garry.  She is sick and can barely care for him.  Sometimes being a mom means realizing that your child needs things that you can’t give them.  Sometimes it means saying good-bye.  Sometimes the best gift that you can give as a parent is the gift of a chance, the gift of hope, the gift of a future.
    Garry’s mom was able to go to the doctor.  She got some medicine to help her.  Pastor Abraham has given her some food and some money to help her be on her feet.  He is hoping to find a way to help a small homto be built for her in the mountains. She still makes charcoal. She still battles through each day. e  As hard as it was for her, she rests easier at night now knowing that her little boy is being well taken care of.
    Garry is part of a large family of boys.  The older boys love him and the house parents adore him.  He is happy and healthy.  He will be able to eat everyday.  He will be able to go to school and have a top-notch education.  He will have a shot, a chance in this life that his mom just couldn’t give him.  There will be opportunities for Garry and his mom to see each other, Pastor Abraham will arrange for them to still be a part of each others life.  Once a parent, always a parent…sometimes parenting just looks a little different.

This is a Love Story (Hope for Heaven from Haiti)

“These three remain - faith, hope and love, but the greatest of these is love.”

     This is a love story. It is not one of those love stories where boy meets girl, the whole world seems to stop and life as we know it is never the same. There are no magical moments when the earth ceases to spin on its axis and all becomes right with the world. Nobody is fighting the evil enemy for the hand of their true love, or laughing in the face of tradition and loving despite what others think. This isn’t going to become a best seller or be made into a movie. This is about that hard, grinding, day-to-day, even when things are falling apart type of love. The kind that nobody likes (because its hard) but everybody wishes they had (because it is real).

     Heaven Kelley was diagnosed with an extremely rare form of cancer last year. Her whole world, and that of her family, was thrown upside down. What was up was now down. What used to matter so much now meant nothing at all. Their world stopped spinning, yet was twirling around so fast that they didn’t know what was here and what was there. I know, seems like it doesn’t make sense, but nothing really makes sense when your 12 year old is given a diagnosis that nobody has ever heard of and not many are sure how to treat.

     When Christella was 7 she was sold to another family to be a child slave. Fabiola, she grew up on the streets of one of the world’s worst slums. Shelove lived there too. Rebecca, she was abused as a 2 year old so badly that she had a years worth of surgeries to correct the damage. Their world? It was still, and spinning and just about everything in between at the same time. They had no idea what was going on, they had no idea what was next or if they would ever be anywhere safe again.

     A little girl in Pennsylvania (or Tennessee at St. Jude’s, depending on her schedule). A group of little girls in Haiti. They have never met each other. They can’t speak a single word of the same language. They live in drastically different worlds. One is pale white, the others varying shades of brown. One is a cheerleader, the others have no idea what a cheerleader even is. So different, about as different as can be. Yet there is a tie that binds them together. This tie makes all of the other junk, like skin color and hobbies and geography irrelevant. The tie that binds is love.

     There is something about little girls who have been through a bunch of garbage in their lives that makes their hearts about the size of basketballs. Heaven is extremely interested in the girls at the orphanages, as her grandmother Brenda (a long time sponsor) has been sharing with her about them for some time. She has sent them things and written them letters. Last month, on two separate occasions, we shared Heaven’s story with the girls at both the Bethesda and Grace homes. The outpouring of love that they had for her, the compassion and the empathy were palatable. It was as if they were saying “Yeah, stuff happened to you that you can’t control and it hurts like crazy. I know how that is. You need some love? Some prayer? Some support? Yeah…we got this”

     At Bethesda the girls worked like crazy to make their own “Hope for Heaven” and “For Heaven’s Sake” t-shirts, like the ones hundreds of us in Pennsylvania wear around to support her and her family. They prayed for her, put up her pictures in the home and wrote her individual cards. (Shout out to our friends at AWAKEN Haiti who joined in this). At Grace, the girls each took a picture in a “Hope for Heaven” shirt and made her individual cards.

     Tiny little hands working hard making shirts, making cards and writing notes of encouragement in two orphanages in Haiti. One little girl fighting with chemo side effects and feeding tubes in the U.S. A bunch of big, giant hearts connected in ways that none of us reading this are going to understand. There is something to be said about not having to feel empathy because you do actually know what things feel like first hand. Heaven has an understanding of the Haitian girls that we just don’t get. They have the ability to feel a little bit like Heaven that we will never have. They have all been little girls at a place where yesterday was terrible, today is worse and tomorrow is way too scary to even think about.

     This week I was able to visit with Heaven, along with Brenda and Pam Brown, one of the leaders of our PA sponsors. We took her all of the things that the orphanage girls had made to her, along with all sorts of pictures. Heaven was humble and loving. It was one of the biggest blessings of my life to share that time with Heaven. I could see the impact of the love and the prayers of the girls in Haiti in Heaven’s eyes. It was just like the look I saw in Linshey’s eyes at Grace a few weeks ago while we wrote her letter to Heaven together. It was that look that showed the tie that binds their hearts together. It’s that “little-girl-in-trouble-who-needs-some-love, I-can-do-that-I-mean-loving-is-what-I-do” kind of look.

     The Ancient Chinese used to say that there is a tiny thread that ties all of us together. When somebody makes a move somewhere there is a reaction somewhere else. They may have been right, they may have been completely out in left field, I am not a really sure, but there is something that I do know. I know that tonight there are over 40 little girls in two orphanages in Haiti who have been through a lot of crap in their lives who are throwing up Creole prayers for a sick girl in the U.S. who they love more than we can even know. I also know there is a sick little girl tonight, either in her bedroom or her hospital room in the U.S., who has been through more than her fair share too and she is looking at pictures of those Haitian girls and praying for them because she gets it. That tiny little thread is so strong that that it will never break, it can’t break, it the kind of thread that we all dream of having in our lives. It is that kind of love that few know. It is the kinds that nobody likes (because it is hard) and everybody wishes they had (because it’s real).

For more on Hope for Heaven, search "Hope for Heaven" on Facebook

For more on the orphanages, search "Freedom Orphanages" on Facebook

Logan in Haiti

This past trip to Haiti was about a lot of things, but those are details that will bore you.  What this trip was mostly about was giving Logan a chance to visit Haiti and see where his parents have been going for more years than he has been alive.  We wanted Logan to see what it was all about, to see where huge pieces of our heart live.
    We set out not knowing how Logan would handle all of it.  He is 8.  What do 8-year-old’s know about poverty and orphans?  What do they know about the socio-economic dynamics of Haiti that land kids in our orphanages?  What would he understand about the poverty all around Haiti?  Would he even get it?
    What we found out was that none of that junk mattered to him.  He saw the poverty, extreme in some spots, and understood it, but didn’t dwell on it.  He looked past it, more concerned about the kids and if they got to school or not, whether or not they had anything to play with and where they took a bath.  He wanted to make sure that somebody was at least trying to help them with all of that.  As long as somebody was doing something, at least there was hope.  To him it was simple, they need some help and somebody should be helping them. 
    When it came to the kids in our orphanages that is where Logan was a star.  I had no idea how he would handle it.  He speaks no Creole; they speak no English.  What would they do all day?  Well, any moment that I spent worrying about that we clearly a waste.  Logan played with the kids, both boys and girls, for hours everyday without needing any translation.  He made up games with the girls; he played soccer with the boys.  He went over to the boy’s home each afternoon and gathered, organized and brought the kids over to the girl’s to spend the afternoon with us.  It was no big deal to him; they were just other kids to play with.
       Beyond the playing, however, were the relationships built while he was playing with them.  He quickly formed bonds with several of the kids in his age range.  He also became very attached to a few of the smaller ones.  They became pretty attached to him too.  It was rough leaving, for all 3 of us and for the kids.  It is clear that God has put all of us on each other’s lives for a very special purpose, a purpose that we are just beginning to realize and develop; a purpose that clearly includes Logan, who is now counting up pennies to figure out how quickly he can get back.  He figure that if somebody has to help, why not him?

Looking After "Neverbugs"

There is a line in one of my favorite movies, Hook, where Peter Pan (Robin Williams) is leaving the “lost boys” and heading back to reality. He is giving them instructions and choosing their new leader. When he gives the chunky kid the leadership sword he tells all of them that they are responsible to take care of anybody who is smaller than they are. The tiniest lost boy? He is responsible for taking care of "neverbugs"…little ones.

That line reminds me of one of the coolest kids that I know, Christela Nelson. Christela is the oldest sister at Freedom House Grace girls home in Jacmel and she takes care of all of the "neverbugs" there. She is the constant mother, for all of her soon-to-be 13 years of life. She looks out for the group, counts heads, dishes out food, and carries smaller kids to bed when they pass out on the floor at night. I have begun to call her Manmi Christela, I am hoping it rubs off on some of the girls because I think she has earned the title.

Christela came to the home in the first group of girls back in 2009. She came from being a child slave, or restevek, as they are called in Haiti. I have not talked at great length with her about that time of her life; it would serve little purpose other than to quench my appetite for knowledge. I am certain it wouldn’t be helpful for her to replay those scenes in her mind just for my sake. What little I do know about her specific case is that it was abusive (as by definition any restevek case would be) and that she worked really, really hard.

As she turns a page in her life and turns into a teenager in the coming weeks, I am struck once again by the change in her situation. She is a giver. She gives. This is what she does. It’s who she is. She used to give out of fear, abuse and because she was mandated to by the adults in her life. She gave, and gave and gave of herself to no end. Today, she still gives, but for a different reason. Christela gives out of love, a love that seems to ooze out of her. If you ever have met her, you know what I mean. She used to give because she had to, now she gives because it is the language of her heart. Once a servant to man; now a servant to God.

As her 13th birthday approaches, I am hoping to be a little more like Christela, a little more able to look out for those smaller than me, a little bit better at giving out of the love that God has put in my heart. I want to be a little bit more like her, taking care of the "neverbugs" that God has put in my life…

Heroes in their Superman Underwear

Superman. Spiderman. Anikan Skywalker (before he became Darth Vader). Tim Tebow. Tom Brady. Michael Jordan. Martin Luther King, Jr. Mother Theresa. These people are all heroes to somebody. They are all heroes to more than somebody, they’re heroes to millions. They have all accomplished great acts of rescue and of getting the bad guy (even if just in a movie or comic book). They have performed a great feat of athletic greatness or changed the lives of millions through their moving service and speech. Legitimately, they are thought of as heroes, and that is ok with me. It is not my place to tell anybody who his or her heroes should or shouldn’t be.


My kids will tell you that I secretly like watching Star Wars with them. It is hard to find a bigger sports fanatic than me, you can verify that with my wife who will regale you with stories of me watching a football game on TV and while tracking two basketball games on my laptop. I am a big fan of Mother Theresa, MLK and plenty of other activist leaders. However, none of these people are heroes to me. To me, the word just takes a different meaning I guess. I find my heroes in people who overcome situations that they didn’t choose to put themselves in. I am not saying that is a universal definition that we all should follow, that is just how I look at it.

So who are heroes to me then? There are plenty I cold choose from, but I keep coming up to these 12 boys. These heroes do not seem to have superpowers or a platform to show their greatness to the world. In fact, nobody really knows them at all. Their names wouldn’t be found with a Google search and they don’t have a Facebook page. They certainly don’t look like Supermen, in fact they wear Superman underwear, secretly hoping, perhaps, to have a little bit of his super powers themselves…if they only knew.

The 12 boys at Freedom House Grace Boys Home in Jacmel, Haiti are, for me, a group of heroes. They do have superpowers; they have changed the world. Maybe they haven’t stopped genocide or saved a sinking ship. Maybe they can’t see through walls or fly above the city fighting crime. Superpowers don’t have to work like that though, do they? Isn’t it a superpower to overcome being a child slave? Is it a superpower to lose your mom and dad at age 5 and still thank God everyday for His faithfulness? The powers to smile and have hope, despite the hopelessness that you have known your whole life is a super power, isn’t it? I think that it is, I think that they are doing something that I am not sure that I would be able to do. That is heroic. Their example has changed my life. Their ability to smile, hope and praise God for what they have, despite all of the garbage that they have been through in their short little lives is something that changes my life every single day. I want to be more like them. I think that they have a lot more in common with the heroes who adorn their underwear than they think, in fact, to me, Superman’s got nothing on them.

24 Months Later...10 things to remember

January 12th marks 2 years since the devestating earthquake that struck Haiti.  We all remember those harrowing hours and days right after the devestation.  Our friends in Haiti, both Haitian and American, were on all of our minds and in all of our hearts as we yearned for information that we couldn't get.  We couldn't get phones to connect to our loved ones in Haiti.  Even though Anderson Cooper did great reporting, he couldn't report on everybody.  We scoured the news and watched the broadcasts for a glimpse of one person that we were dying to see alive and well.  Those first 48 hours, though nothing in comparison to those in Haiti of course, were dreadful and terrifying for all of us who could only watch the news unfold on our TV screens.

For weeks Haiti was on  the front page of all of the major newspapers and was the lead story on almost every newscast on television.  People sent money to the Red Cross, World Vision and dozens of non-profits that did heroic work all throughout the country.  Rappers, rock stars, country singers and teen pop stars came together and sang songs to raise awareness and money for the survivors of the devestation.  Governments around the world sent money, troops and supplies that saved countless lives.  For a few weeks Haiti was the center of it all and a bright light was shining on the needs of the people.  The world came together, at least for a short time, and united around the common goal of saving the lives of the Haitian people.  

It has been 24 months since the earth shook and breath was snatched from so many.  For most people Haiti is now a distant memory, surpassed in their counciousness by other stories that have come and gone, other diasasters, other needs.  I am not going to complain about that.  This is the reality of the world that we live in.  People move on.  It is what it is.  Do I wish that the world was still enagaged with Haiti and committed to working together to lift its people out of the harrowing life that so many of them are entrenched in?  Of course I do, but I also understand how this works.  If you are not personally connected, you move on.  I was touched and moved by those who suffered in Japan last year, but I don't think about them now.  I don't have a connection there, so my mind moves on to where my heart is. 

As this anniversary comes and goes, I have 10 things that I would ask that all of our friends and family remember on this day when Haiti will be back in the news...

1.  Remember my friends Jeff and Deb Denlinger (AWAKEN Haiti), Gerritt and Julie VanWagenen (Haiti Under God) and all of the other missionaries from across the world serving the needs of the Haitian people full-time on the ground in Haiti.

2.  Remember Freedom House Grace girls Edna and Nailovy and the other kids across Haiti who became orphans 24 months ago.

3.  Remember that for all of the bad things that happen in the world, it is still a good enough place that when confronted with suffering and pain, we can still come together and reach out to those in need.

3.  Remember that God is really big and that no matter how scared and frustrated we are sometimes, He can take even the worst circumstances and find ways to make something good come out of them.

4.  Remember how you felt when the first pictures came out of the devestation that happend that late afternoon.  For a few minutes remember the how you felt, what you thought and the prayers that you said.

5.  Remember how it made you think about who is important in your life.  Remember how you squeezed your kids a little tighter that night or rememebered to tell your spouse how much you loved them.  Whatever extra you did that night, when you thought about how devestated you would be if this happened to your family, do it again today in honor of those that lost children, parents and spouses in the wreckage.

6.  Remember the 2 million or more in Haiti who are still living in a temporary tent or shelter.

7.   Remember all of those who are suffering from the after effects of the earthquake, like the cholera epedemic that has struck hundreds of thousands who were already living in the worst kinds of conditions.

8.  Remember that each person who died, along with each broken heart that they left behind, isn't just a number in a news report or a statistic to look at, but that they were each created in God's image and loved by Him.

9.  Remember how you wanted to just fly over to Haiti and snatch one of those cute kids up and take care of them.  You know you can't do that, but you can still take care of them in other ways.  Remember how you felt and ask yourself if you still want to help those kids.

10.  Finally, remember that though we live in a world full of tragedy and pain, there is light at the end of the tunnel, and that light is Jesus, who will walk with us through both the good times and the tragedies in each of our lives. 

Matt