itsjustathoug.ht

What we did yesterday

2012-05-29T08:58:00.000-04:00

After holidays, wedding, building projects, etc, it was nice to have a day with not a lot of pressure to do a lot of things. That doesn't mean, of course that a lot of things didn't get done.

What we did, Monday, May 28th, 2012:

Because of a slow start to the morning, we were able to catch up on emails first thing. Sorry if we still haven't gotten back to you. You're welcome if we did.
We were able to start catching up on laundry as well. We ran three loads through, which doesn't sound like much, but consider that for each load we have to carry 9 buckets of water: that's 27 buckets of water we carried. Consider also that each bucket is filled with 5 gallons of water: that's 135 gallons of water we carried. Consider also that each gallon weighs 8 pounds: that's 1080 pounds of water we carried to wash three loads of laundry. Plus... Our month-old drier is broken so all this laundry had to be line dried.
We went to the bank to get money for the week. Normally, we don't use the bank so this was actually our first time. Let me walk you through it:

Showed up mid-morning with ID in hand for both me and the organization. Left my motorcycle helmet at the door because it's not allowed inside.
Waited in line for about an hour. People watched a thought a lot because you can't use you phone inside.
Met with the teller for about 30 seconds as she explained to me that I could withdraw funds directly. I had to cash a check (which I hadn't brought with me).
Left to get the checkbook after being told I wouldn't need to wait in line when I got back.
Returned with a check about an hour later. Skipped past the line that had formed outside by telling the security guard the teller had told me to skip the line when I got back.
Inside the bank was the same line I had waited in before. I didn't see the same teller, and I was completely uncomfortable trying to skip past all those people. So I hopped back into line.
About ten minutes into my wait the teller I had worked with spotted me a called me out of line.
Once that was all out of the way, getting the money was pretty painless.

We also had a bunch of American cash on hand which we needed to change to Gourdes for regular use. It's interesting, money changers typically quote the exchange rate in the number of Haitian Dollars they will give you for 100 American dollars. Which means, to figure out the actual exchange rate you're getting you need to divide by 20.
We stopped by the French school to see when Josiah was scheduled to take his entrance exam-- It's Wednesday, June 6th, at 9am.
We did a bunch of work on expenses reports:

Fixed some mistakes on the March report.
Finished entering some extra receipts that had turned up for April.
Finalized the budget for June.

We had put off dealing with a slow leak on one of the Mazda tires all last week. Finally got it fixed and filled with air.
We fun-schooled the American kids. It's been good lately to change things up a little everyday. The kids like it too.
I met with a good friend and talked through issues of ministry, management, marriage and family over a Pepsi and a Tampico.
Gwenn beat her high score on Temple Run. Twice.
We got money ready for monthly market shopping. Our cook gives us a handwritten shopping list each month and we approve it, total up the money, and distribute it. For some reason, this month we had to add up the total 6 different times on my telephone calculator before we were sure of the accurate total.
We bought the ingredients for (lettuce and tomato at the street market, bread and bacon at the "grocery store") and made BLTs for dinner. Thank God for bacon... Am I right? I was hoping to find avocados to make BGLTs (bacon, guacamole, lettuce and tomato) but no such luck.
Bed time reading was out of Nia's world history book. We learned about the Habsburg's and the Russian Tsars.

Here is the map we drew to learn where "Europe" is. Notice the paths drawn
for "travel to and from Haiti" and "precious metals travel from South America to Spain."

What we did last week

2012-05-28T07:48:00.000-04:00

Notice both the building and the wedding. Nou bouke (we're tired)

What we did today

2012-05-24T22:36:00.001-04:00

Today was the calm between the storms. We had a group of friends in last week. Great people. We had great time with them. But visitors make life busy. We also have a wedding coming up on Saturday. We love serving people in this way, but service makes life busy. One of the things we're doing for the wedding is providing a location. We thought the Joy in Hope land would be perfect, but we needed a shelter. So a couple of weeks ago construction started on what ended up being a 26' x 36' pavilion. I've had a great time working with friends to build it. But construction makes life busy. All this is to say that today has been a welcome reprieve from all these things.

What we did Thursday, May 21st, 2012:
- I went downtown early to print and copy some documents to continue work on selling one of our trucks (started yesterday).
- At the same time Gwenn started school with the kids.
- I met the buyer down at the insurance office and we deposited our dossier. Today or tomorrow it's headed to Port au Prince to be "analyzed", whatever that means.
- I returned home just in time to work on expenses for a few minutes before our good friend Sam (also pastor at the wedding we're working on) stopped by for a meeting.
- I went to the land to check up on construction. While there I had a long overdue phone meeting with my boss (the great Brian Williams).
- We played karaoke with the kids-- twice.
- Sam and I set up a light tower on the land in preparation for an all-night thatching session tomorrow night.
- We welcomed home our long lost friend, Travis.
- We went to dinner and had long, good conversations before going to bed.
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What We Did the day before yesterday

2012-05-18T04:49:00.001-04:00

The goal for Wednesday was to try to give Gwenn some down time. She had been back and forth to Port au Prince the couple of days prior and travel had worn her out. Here's what she did:

- Got Nia and Nico up early and dressed.
- Took Nia and Nico to a new school to talk to the director.
- Visited our friend Doris who had just gotten in from the States the day before.
- Went wedding shopping with Carmeta.
- Took engagement pictures of Carmeta with her fiance, Jefte.
- Sent Carmeta's wedding dress off to be cleaned.
- Took the kids (and the dog) to collect sea glass in Jacmel Bay.
- Locked up the land after the crew had been out there all day and check out progress on construction.

Yes. That was her down day. And the rest of us worked as well. What we did Wednesday, May 15th, 2012:

- Continued working on expenses for April but still didn't finish them (sorry again).
- Did school with Nia, Nico, and Josiah (I only mention this because it was the first time we had gotten it done this week).
- Played Wii with the littles-- Diego's Dinosaur Rescue was on tap for today.
- FINALLY got our tax free status renewed.
- Took Sanndi to the Dentist (took awhile to find his office) and had her sore tooth looked at. Happy to report it's nothing to be concerned about.
- Set up a movie for the kids.
- Watched an episode Arrested Development with my wife. Then finished the series after she fell asleep.

While all this was going on, construction continued on the land without any direct involvement from us-- nice.
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What We Did Yesterday

2012-05-16T15:28:00.001-04:00

I can't write everything down that we do-- obviously. So occasionally I want to highlight some of the tasks and rituals we do on a daily (or almost daily basis). Today I want to talk about "The Great School Supply Distribution."
A little over a year ago we asked a couple of teams from Utah to bring in school supplies. They delivered. If you were on one of those teams, know that we're still using the abundance of supplies that you sent. But having more than enough pens, pencils, notebooks, etc., presented us with a problem.
I knew we'd run into the culture of sharing in Haiti. If one of my kids has a blue pen and one of their classmates needs it, they'll just give it away. I like that. It's a great thing about Haitian culture. But it can be hard on the people with resources. I collected school supplies for MY KIDS-- not the entire school.
So we created a distribution system to deal with this problem. We started by giving the kids jobs. And we pay them for these jobs. We don't use real money, I just keep track on my phone-- This works better because it eliminates issues with lost/stolen/borrowed cash. But we don't make them pay for all their school supplies, the rule is this: if you return something to me that's all used up I'll give you a new one. If you want a replacement, but don't have an old one to trade, I'll sell it to you. We set prices for all the different items. And we've expanded the program to clothes (shoes, socks, etc) and toiletries (deodorant, soap, toothbrushes...)
It's a daily ritual in our family-- "The Great Afternoon Distribution." Gwenn and I keep bins and bins of stuff in our room. The kids wander up all afternoon and alternately buy or exchange the things they need/want. It's not perfect, but it works.
Anyway... What we did yesterday, May 15th, 2012:
- Spent four hours signing Josiah up for school next year. Found out today that 600 kids signed up for 80 spots. I think he's a smart kids but the school is in French. So we'll see if he gets in.
- Did more work on the land:
- Transported laborers to the land.
- Transported food for the laborers.
- Transported them back at the end of the day.
- I worked on (but didn't finish) my expense report for April. Since it's due on the 15th, an apology is is order for my superiors.
- Set up a dentist appointment for Sanndi. What I was hoping was a canker sore is looking more like an abscess.
- Nia had an orthodontist appointment in Petionville and she and Gwenn had to brave the three-hour drive back to Jacmel afterwards. Nia doesn't love her new retainer.
- Cleaned up the house to prepare for guests. The kids were in charge of the yard and we made the upstairs presentable.
- Had a group of midwives from the "Mother Health" clinic in Jacmel over for dinner. These are women we've gotten to know through Church on the Beach.
- Put the kids to bed.
- Watched Arested development with my wife. This is become a ritual of sorts, but it won't last long. We're quickly running out of episodes.
This day was a hard one. There is always a bunch to do. But Gwenn and I also both battled discouragment. The daily grind combined with past hurts that still come back every once in awhile knocked us down pretty good in the afternoon. But I'm proud of the way we walked through it. And I'm proud of what we got done.
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What we did today

2012-05-14T18:15:00.002-04:00

This is an idea I've been bouncing around for a couple of weeks. By the end of each day I often find that I can barely remember what I spent my time on that day. By a day or two later it's all just a blur. But I want to remember, because when I can't it feels like I didn't do anything at all. To prove, first of all to myself, that I actually do something down here, I want to start writing it down. Remember we've got a great (most times) staff that helps us with these things. But ultimately it's us that has to make sure all the plates keep spinning.

What we did on Monday, May 14th, 2012:

Visited "The French School" in Jacmel as a possible location for our American kids to go to school next year.
Got all the kids paperwork together for another meeting at the school tomorrow.
Worked on the pavilion out on the land. This included a lot of moving parts:
- Transported the laborers in the morning.
- Bought and transported lunch in the middle of the day.
- Transported the laborers in the afternoon.
- Posted pictures of the work.
Charged the Mazda battery because it decided not to start this morning.
Went to an appointment at the tax office to pay payroll taxes for the last two months and renew our tax-exempt status.
Brought Jerry to school (I only included this because I had to do it personally).
Dried the laundry we started yesterday before we lost city power.
Fixed a flat tire on the black moto.
Fixed a flat tire on the blue moto.
Got cash for Gwenn's trip to Port au Prince and for the construction on the land.
Took Nia to Port au Prince for her orthodontist appointment early tomorrow morning.
Pick the kids up from school (I only mention this because the Mazda was in Port and we had to pick pick them up with the blue moto.
Gave Schneider his medicine for whatever weird sickness he's got now.
Payed for a bunch of food I bought on Saturday for the people working at the land.
Played Wii with Nico, Josiah, and Manita before the rest of the kids got home.

Things we're still working on?

Fix an oil leak in the blue moto.
Post a blog about what we did.
Figure out the details surrounding a field trip for the kids.

New Community

2012-04-22T22:19:00.000-04:00

I've always been partial to the story of Gideon. His story is in the bible in Judges 6-8. Great guy.

Tonight I was reminded of his greatest victory in battle. As he prepared for this battle, God kept asking him to get rid of some of the men from his army. He started with 32,000 and ended with 300. God prepared them in this way, and then led them into victory, so that everyone would know it was the LORD, not Gideon and his men that won the battle.

Thousands of years later, Jesus seemed to have a similar attitude. There was a time in his ministry where he was becoming quite popular. It was becoming chic to drop everything and follow him, I guess. Then he gave this speech:

“Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Your ancestors ate manna and died, but whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.”

The bible says that "from this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him." Of course many of them turned back-- nobody wants to eat their rabbi. It's as if Jesus wanted some of his follower to turn back. But Jesus also teaches us to "pray for workers". So he wants followers, but he doesn't want followers at the same time?

Haiti feels like this sometimes. So many great people have crossed my path over the last three years. Great friends who followed God well and challenged me to do the same. But so many of them are gone. Haiti seems to have the same affect as the speech about eating Jesus: it's a hard place, and many people turn back. Now please don't think I'm making this comparison to in any way judge people who have left Haiti. No, I'm making this comparison because I see this truth at work: when people come to Haiti things start happening (almost without fail) that cause them to want to turn back. Sometimes it's the normal stresses of being a missionary. Sometimes it's the normal stresses of living in Haiti. Sometimes it's completely unrelated to Haiti or missionary work in general. But it's always something. And it's always hard. And so many of these great people that God has called to Haiti turn back. It's as if God wants us to come to Haiti, but he wants us to turn back at the same time.

I don't have a good explanation for this paradox. But I will say this. It all makes sense if we consider that God may be less interested in the work we are supposed to do in Haiti, and more interested in us. He calls us to Haiti in order to change us. Then, when the work in us is done, he sends us back to make room for someone else to come have their heart changed as well. That's fine. I'm OK with that. Except that I want to be in Haiti for the long haul. And so in order to do that I have to figure out how to survive all the stuff that is happening to us. And I have to be OK with almost everyone else leaving.

Tonight am I thankful that God is teaching me how to have real community with an every rotating cast of characters. And I am thankful for these characters that are in my life right now:

This afternoon 38 people came out to Joy in Hope's land in Raymond Haiti for "church on the beach"-- a casual, English speaking, non-denominational church for expats living in Jacmel.

Demons

2012-04-10T07:35:00.001-04:00

I don't think I need to describe this scene from a movie. It's pretty ubiquitous at this point as a perfectly adapted character from J.R.R Tolkien's Lord of the Rings Trilogy.

This character in the story is named Gollum and seemingly has multiple wills within him. In one particular scene he is looking into a still pond. As the camera points toward his reflection he has one personality. When the camera switches back to the actual character he has another. The camera switches back and forth as the two personalities in one body argue with each other.

This character has taken on special meaning in our house because the kids like to act it out. Manita, who's five, is especially good at it. I'll often catch her sitting in front of the full length mirror in our hall repeating "my precious" to herself.

I think this scene is so powerful because we can all relate to it. In Voodoo they would talk about being "mounted" by your lwa. In Psychology they might call it multiple personality disorder. In fundamental Christianity they might speak about being possessed be demons. But listen to this:

"I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

"So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?"

Is that not the story that is told by Gollum? And is it not the story of us all-- Not just those crazy Voodoo people, or those crazy people, or those crazy Christian people. We all have multiple wills fighting within us. We all have demons-- from our past, from our worries, from our imaginations-- that argue within us and distract us from what we truly want and need.

Last night was a long night with one of my boys. He got into an altercation with another kid in the house. But this boy doesn't let things go. He threw a temper tantrum that lasted into the night. I held him down for an hour or so, but he just kept repeating: "I've got to hit her back... She can't hit me, I've got to hit her back." A few times he began to calm down. He would relax and just rest in my arms. One time he began absentmindedly playing with my arm hair. But then, each time, he would startle out of his relaxed state. He would yell "Noooooo!" as if arguing against me (or even himself) and begin fighting and repeating the same phrases.

I tried to explain to him, in those quieter moments, that he did not need to defend himself. "When you lived on the street," I reasoned with him, "you needed to hit back. I understand that. But now you live in a family. And now there are people and things in place to protect you."

"I have to hit her back."

"How long have you lived in this house?" I continued. "Haven't I always protected you? Don't you trust me now?"

"I do trust you, but I have to hit her back."

I didn't actually believe my reasoning would make a difference. He has a demon. This demon from his days on the street tells him that nobody else is going to look out for him. And the only way for him to protect himself is to fight back with everything he has.

I don't have an answer for this boy's demon. I don't have an answer for yours. There is a place in the bible, though, where it talks about a demon that could only be driven out with prayer. Let's try that.

Withered Figs

2012-03-18T06:39:00.001-04:00

The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. Then he said to the tree, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again." And his disciples heard him say it... In the morning, as they went along, they saw the fig tree withered from the roots. Peter remembered and said to Jesus, "Rabbi, look! The fig tree you cursed has withered!"

Mark 11:12-14,20-21

Listening to Joyful Sign by Girlyman.

This is a strange story. I get that. Not the stuff that "life verses" are made of. But maybe it should be. What I feel I have to point out is that this tree (maybe this is obvious) DID NOTHING WRONG-- "It wasn't the season for figs." So Jesus isn't frustrated by a specific tree or (to extend the analogy) person. He is frustrated by the state of the world-- a world in which figs are not always in season-- in the same way that we all are. We are all disappointed and frustrated and mad and sad on a regular basis. This doesn't make us selfish. It simply makes us eternal beings (which we are) living in a broken world (which we are).

I call this a longing for eternity. I believe that we were all created perfectly to live in a perfect world. I also believe that we fell short of that perfection (Christians would call this sin) and hence we all, along with the world around us, are slowly dying. And quite frankly, that pisses me off. I don't want to be dying and I don't want the world around me to be dying. I want it to be perfect. I want what I want when and where I want it!

That's a very selfish statement, but maybe its just an acknowledgment of who we were created to be. God designed us to get what we want when and where we want it. And so maybe the desire itself is not selfish. But what we do about instead.
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Multi-Cultural God

2012-03-05T20:13:00.001-05:00

I've always been confused by something in the bible. We're told time and again that Jesus had 12 disciples. The bible is clear on the number, but it's not clear on their names. I think there's at least three lists of names and all are different. I'll get back to that.

I grew up in a small(ish) town in Upstate New York State (Central New York for you picky locals). Great place to grow up. Great place to live. And maybe it's changing now, but when I lived there it was fairly homogeneous. Most people were white. Similar world views. Similar interests. We weren't all clones, but there wasn't a whole lot of diversity in that corner of the world.

Later I moved to North Carolina. It was a more urban setting. There were lots of people that were different than me. And this started stirring up an idea within me. An idea that solidified years later when my life moved towards Haiti. It goes like this: God created manKIND in his image. And so, we cannot hope to know God by knowing one man. Or two. Or three. Or by understanding one group of people. Or one nation. Or one culture. Each culture has distinct pieces of the mystery of hidden within it. And so know only one culture is to know only a part of God. Crossing cultures, then, is an exercise in understanding God.

So back to the 12 disciples. I read in Matthew the other day a series of stories about a disciple named Matthew. Today I read those same stories in Mark, but the disciple was named Levi. My American upbringing has a really had time with this. Sure it could be explained away by different call the same person be a different name, but in the Western culture of my youth, this doesn't make sense. Everyone has a name. Everyone calls them by that name. The bible seems to be in error.

But here I am in Haiti. A culture where everyone has a dozen names.
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Repentant Fruit

2012-03-02T07:07:00.001-05:00

"Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. By their fruit you will recognize them."

- Matthew 7:15-16

It is possible for people to preach the gospel from false motives-- Other sections of the bible make this expicit. It is possible for evil man to gain notoriety, followers, and converts-- We see this everyday as one celebrity preacher or another falls from grace.

But is it all bad? Is everything these "false prophets" do for evil? Or is there some good that comes of it. I would argue the latter. People are helped through their ministries. People are saved through their preaching.

So then how can we recognize them by their fruit? If each of us does some good and some bad we cannot judge as Jesus instructs us to. Unless the fruit of which he speaks is not the fruit of good works, but the fruit of growth. Maybe Jesus is telling us to look into a man's heart (as best we can), to determine their character, and judge whether their fruit is not the fruit of good works, but the fruit of repentance.

"Produce fruit in keeping with repentance."

- Matthew 3:8
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Haiti is More

2012-02-08T09:15:00.001-05:00

More water...

I purposely left the object off the title sentence because it doesn't need any more specificity.

Haiti is more--period.

Ironically, we typically focus on how Haiti is less--

Less rich
Less stable
Less comfortable
Less safety
Less accommodating
Etc.

But I believe that Haiti is more. Look at that list again. We can all agree it. Haiti is--

More poverty
More instability
More discomfort
More danger
More harsh
Etc.

Now that was just a twist of linguists. And maybe that means that all of this--more or less--is just a matter of perspective and I only say that Haiti is more because God is calling me to it and someone else might think that Cleveland or Azerbaijan are more in the same way I think Haiti is. But I don't buy that. Because I know what I've experienced.

I've experienced more failure since moving to Haiti than ever before.
I've experienced more pain than ever before.
But it's not all bad, I've also experienced more joy.
The days are longer here.
The nights are louder.
Haitians work harder than any people group I've ever met.
But they have taught me so much about rest as well.
Spicy foods are spicier here (thank you Andreline).
Sweet drinks are sweeter here (thank you Tampico).
I could go on.

I have a suggested explanation for all of this: Haiti is raw. God created this life and life in Haiti is about like he planned it (assuming you take the fall into accout). Life in other places (let's face it, I'm talking about the great US of A) seems to be more processed, more polished. Sure it's prettier, and easier, but we lose something in the process.

It's like we've covered life with a blanket to make it softer but lost its shape in the process.

It's like we've processed life into a fast-food hamburger. It's predictable, but lost its flavor.

It's like we've built a road up the mountain of life. The climb is easier, but it's lost its meaning.

It's like we've added guardrails to the scenic router. Sure it's safer, but the views not as good.

We do all these things in attempt to make life better. But then we experience a place like Haiti and we realize that softer, easier, predictable, safer are not better-- they aren't more-- they are actually less.

You know those videos...?

2012-02-01T17:54:00.000-05:00

What is Your Home?

2012-01-31T18:44:00.001-05:00

Home is a place of residence-- Really? But what if you don't have one? What are we saying about those who can't afford a house-- a condo-- an or even an apartment? They sleep benieth the stars-- the stairs-- or a tent-- and they wish for a home. Do they not have one?

Home is a place of refuge-- Really? But what if your greatest enemy is a member of you own family? What if your house is so full of strife that you leave it to find refuge with a friend, at a bar, or in the arms of another woman.

Home is where your heart is-- But what if your heart is in two places? What if the heart is willing but your body is weak? What if you heart and your head are not in agreement?

Home is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other-- But what if they're not? What if you stare across the table, the living room, or the bed and you just aren't sure of the intentions, the motives, or the heart of the one you're staring at?

What if you don't even know WHAT is home-- let alone where it is? All I know is this:

"For this world is not our home; we are looking forward to our city in heaven, which is yet to come."

And when I read this I'm happy because it means I'm not insane for having trouble finding a home in this world.
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An Unbelieved Truth

2012-01-02T06:28:00.001-05:00

An unbelieved truth can hurt much more than a lie.

- John Steinbeck

I'd rather be lied about than not believed.

A lie speaks to the character of the one who says it. An unbelieved
truth does too. But, if this truth really is the truth, then the
statement that the unbelief is making (namely, that the speaker of the
truth is a liar) is itself a lie.

So I guess it doesn't matter either way. Got that?

Just Another Day in Port au Prince - Part 3

2011-12-24T07:27:00.000-05:00

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

My night at the Livesay's came and went without a hitch. I woke early without setting my alarm, not because I was well rested but because I got an early morning phone call. If I had been at home I would have risen at the same time, only instead of a phone call it would have been a child knocking at my door. Part of me wanted to wait around for the Livesay's to get up, see them one more time, and give them a proper thank you, but the other part of me knew that with as much uncertainty awaited that day, an earlier start gave me a much better chance af success. I had to find my car, transfer money, get the car out of impound, buy some tile, buy some tools, then meet someone at the airport at 1pm. I usually try to keep my Port au Prince todo lists to no more than 2 item.

When I saw that Isaac Livesay was the first to rise, I had him let me out of the house and began walking in the right direction. They don't allow motorcycles in that neighborhood (because, apparantly they are dangerous) so it was a bit of a hike to find a group of taxi drivers that were willing to take me to the impound lot. I approached the group slowly, sizing up each driver, trying to figure out which would get me where I wanted to go safest and fastest. I was looking for a clean, well maintained bike. A helmet was a must. I wanted the driver to be edgy enough that they could quickly get me through Port au Prince traffic, but not so edgy that I feared for my safety. In the end, I hired the first guy that yelled "hey blanco!" It's just easier that way.

This driver did a pretty good job getting me where I needed to go, and as he wove through traffic I realized that motos in Port au Prince, while something I had always said I wanted to avoid, were actually a great mode of transportation. Sitting in an air-conditioned truck, it's easy to look at the people going by you on the back of a moto and only think about how hot, dusty, and dangerous it seems. But as you SIT in your truck, you should also notice that those motos are GOING BY you. And the people on the back of them are getting where they're going much faster than you are getting where you are. I got off that moto, paid the driver the $6.25 I owed him and actually started to consider parking my truck outside Port au Prince the next time I came in and just riding a moto around town. I could get a lot more done. But then I'd also have to park the truck legally.

I had him drop me at a place called "circulation". It's a police station that deals with license plates, licenses, inspection, transfers, titles, etc. I guess you could call it the DMV of Haiti. It's also, I was being told, the impound lot. I got there early. Almost an hour before I expected it to open. But I've learned from experience that this can actually be a very helpful thing. As I entered the lot, there sitting in front of me in all it's glory (what of it there is) was my truck. I let out half a sigh of relief. Really more like a third. The next third was reserved for when I could actually drive the truck away. And the other third was waiting on something I had actually been more worried about than the truck-- it's contents. I had left a computer, a kindle, a modem, and a few other things in the truck the morning before. And while I have the utmost respect for the police in Haiti. I also know they aren't very well paid. And as in any profession, there are some bad apples. And so, even with the truck in hand, I wasn't sure I was going to see any of the expensive stuff inside it again. I glanced around, nobody seemed to be paying me much mind, and hopped over to the truck, peaking in the back window I saw everything as I had left it the day before. A win all around. Confidant that I was going to (eventually) get everything back, I began asking around to see if I could figure out how. People pointed me toward the correct office and I worked my way over there. I knocked on the door but didn't expect to find anyone as I was still about 45 minutes early.

The door wasn't actually shut, so my knocking pushed it open. I peeked inside and saw someone sitting at the desk. As I had done with the all the people that pointed me to this office, I explained my situation. He knew exactly what I was talking about. He even knew which car was mine. As we talked he booted up a computer in front of us. The computer contained pictures of all the vehicles that had been impounded IN THERE INFRINGING POSITIONS-- so there was no arguing with the man. It was like getting a picture of you car running a red light in the mail. Pretty hard to get out of that. He explained to me exactly what I had been told the day before. I was parked legally, but facing the wrong direction. For that reason the truck had been towed and I would have to pay a fine before getting it out.

"How much?" I asked, hoping the number would be less than the cash I had in my hand.

"3000 Gourdes." Ugh.

"This is all I have right now," as I showed him the 2000 Gourdes I had left from the day before. He just shrugged and told me to come back with the money. I had located my truck. Now I just had to get it back.

Just Another Day in Port au Prince - Part 2

2011-12-12T20:06:00.000-05:00

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

It was getting late as I approached three men unloading a small truck at their funeral home (or night club, I can never tell the difference, there might not be one). I knew my car was gone, but was still trying to figure out to where. My hope (It sounds strange to put it that way) was that my truck had gotten towed because a stolen vehicle would probably never reappear. I questioned the first man, who seemed to be in charge:

"Did you see a green truck parked here earlier in the day?" Their truck had backed in exactly where I had been parked. He seemed to take some offense at my initial query.

"No I have no idea what you're talking about." The curtness of his reply made me realize that perhaps he thought I was accusing him of something. I pressed the issue, but couldn't seem to make him understand that I wasn't upset with him in any way. I was actually hoping he had turned me into the police. I was getting nowhere with him when the third man who was pulling boxes out of the truck to hand to the second interrupted.

"Was it here all day?" He asked.

"I parked it here in the morning, but I don't know how long before it disappeared. Did you guys call the police because it was parked in the front of the gate."

"No." Crap. "But it was facing that way, right." He pointed behind him, up the hill.

"Yes, that was my truck."

"Right, well it was supposed to be facing down." He seemed to be putting things together in his mind. But I wasn't quite yet.

"What?"

"Your truck was facing up, but you should have parked it facing down. You needed to turn it around before parking on this side of the road. It probably got towed." I don't remember if he had explained things that clearly. But whatever he said got me to put things together in my mind. All the cars I had seen parked on that road were facing the same direction as traffic. But I had crossed over traffic, parking on the left side of the road, and hence, was facing the wrong direction. Do they tow for that? I could only hope.

I thanked the men for their help-- even the one that wasn't helpful and the one that didn't say anything-- and I left them to the boxes of liquor they were unlisding at the funeral home. It was getting late. I felt satisfied that my truck had probably been towed. I was also sure that if it hadn't been towed, there was nothing I could do anyway. So my focus turned from the truck to own precarious situation.

I needed food (I was still waiting to celebrate). I needed a place to sleep. And in the morning, I was going to need some money. Food was the most pressing, and easiest solved. So I hopped over to the restaurant I've been raving about and ordered a chicken sandwich and a Tampico. I also order french fries, but they never came. So maybe the woman didn't hear me. Or maybe they didn't have them. I don't know. I didn't get a receipt, so I hope she didn't charge me for them. As I sat to wait for my food I contemplated my next step. I needed to get in contact with people but, to add another problem to my every-growing pile, my phone had recently died and I was using a temporary one. It only had two numbers in it: Mike and Gwenn. Now if you're thinking "phone numbers" should be something that gets added to my list of things to prepare for PAP, you're right. But in my defense I had brought a computer with an internet connection so that I could look up any numbers that I needed-- it was in the car.

I called Gwenn and she agreed to stop at one of those newfangled McDonald's that have wireless so she could look up numbers for me. I call Mike and began to discuss my money troubles. He agreed to transfer money in the morning and I agreed to run the errands he was supposed to do the next day (seeing that I had just lost the car he was planning on using, that only seemed fair).

In the meantime my food came. Don't picture a chicken patty for the sandwich. It's more of a pulled chicken sub. Very good. And the Tampico was, of course, great. If you have never tried Tampico you should. It's like Sunny Delight, but with more sugar. And every time I drink Sunny Delight I think "what this needs is more sugar." Don't you?

Gwenn, because it's who she is, went above and beyond the call of duty. She informed people beck at the house that I would be returning that night and she set me up with a room at a friends house for the night. She had called the Livesays. It would my first choice to call as well. Because I like them, yes, and I knew I would enjoy my evening. But also because the Livesays are the only long-term missionaries I know who haven't developed healthy bouderies. And I mean that in the best possible way. I have never heard of them turning down a request for a place to stay. They basically ran a hotel after the earthquake. And even after they left the country their house was home base for dozens of short and long term workers. My point is this, I would have called them because I knew they would say yes :)

They did say yes. Mike and I finalized plans for the money transfer in the morning and I headed to the Livesay's. A short walk and a $6 taxi ride brought me to their home behind the airport. But not before I discovered a shop that sells pigeons, parrots, geese, and peacocks-- awesome.

Troy and Tara were great short-notice hosts. I hung out with them and their kids for awhile before crashing into bed. I had done everything possible, but still I didn't know if I would find the truck at the impound lot the next morning. I could only hope.

Just Another Day in Port au Prince - Part 1

2011-12-10T07:31:00.001-05:00

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

My Thursday started out like many others have over the past year. Keeping all your ducks in a row in Haiti is hard enough, but if you allow things to get de-arranged (there's a nice Creole-inspired word for you)-- if you allow things to get de-arranged, it can be nearly (if not actually) impossible to re-arrange them.

So dozens of times over the past year I have risen at a normal time but immediately started prepping for a Port au Prince trip to re-arrange paperwork that had been, unfortunately, de-arranged. This time it was a 6am departure with a 9am meeting at the other end. Prepping for Port au Prince is an involved process. You've got to think about all the possibilities-- everything that can go wrong-- and, if possible, mitigate those risks.

You need a spare in case of a flat (I've learned that one the hard way).
You need a jack to change the tire in case of a flat (I've learner that one the hard way).
You need your phone (I've learner that one the hard way) .
And a car charger for your phone (I've learner that one the hard way) .
You need money.
Money for gas.
Money for food.
Money for food for everyone that's coming with you.
Money for a possible break down.
Money for whatever errands you are running.
Money in case you have problems with your errands.
You need a lot of money (I usually just empty the safe and be done with it).
You need paperwork.
Paperwork for you.
Paperwork for your car.
Paperwork for the organization.
You need a lot of paperwork (I usually just empty the file cabinet and be done with it).

Once prepped, I set out on my journey and began calling all the people I was supposed to meet on the other side. We were all coming from Jacmel, so it would have made sense to travel together, but strained personal relationships have made that impossible. Instead there was a delicate dance where each of us tried to arrive on-time, but last, so that we didn't have to wait for the others.

I arrived at the offices first (I've never been good at dancing) and began to get things in order. We had come to sign some paperwork that we had been assured was already prepared for us. By the time all of us were there they had begun preparing the paperwork (see what I did there) and we waited. 9 became 10 and then 11 and 12. But while the wait was excruciating, the outcome was more than I could have hoped for. By 3:30 the paperwork was done(ish) and I was planning my celebration! There is a restaurant I particularly enjoy just up the block from the offices and around the corner from where I had parked. The fact that I hadn't eaten all day was going to make the food even better. On top of that, I had my laptop and a USB modem in the car so that I would soon be surfing the web at 3G speeds while eating good food on an empty stomach.

But oh! Port au Prince, you have never been faithful to me. And this day would be no different. I have no eloquent or ironic way of putting this: My car was gone from where I had parked it. My first thoughts turned toward theft because our recent past, but I knew that would be a complete loss. So I pinned my hopes on towing. I knew the car was legal but maybe I had parked illegally? I looked for signs. The was a no-parking sign (which looks very similar to the American "wrong way" sign incidentally) across the street, but I had seen that in the morning. Plus there were other cars currently parked just a few feet from where my truck had been. Maybe they were illegal too and the police hadn't passed by in awhile? I was beginning to doubt my own story.

Checking with the locals didn't help either. The merchant on the corner hadn't noticed anything unusual between sales of crackers, sleeping pills, and phone calls. And the police, normally out in force on this particular street, were no where to be found. I wandered the neighborhood looking for an officer, but all had gone home the moment the local offices had closed. Running out of ideas to retrieve my car, I approached the scene of the (hopefully not) crime again.

But as I approached, a small truck pulled up. A man got out of the cab and pull the fence (or what I had thought was a fence) aside to allow the truck enter his compound. I had parked in front a gate! Could my luck possibly hold out? Had these men called the police on me? I could only hope.

Strange Stories

2011-12-06T19:00:00.001-05:00

If a story is not about the hearer he will not listen. And I here make a rule--a great and lasting story is about everyone or it will not last. The strange and foreign is not interesting--only the deeply personal and familiar.

- John Steinbeck

It seems that we are drawn to the strange and exotic. But they are only interesting to us in that they act to amplify our own story.

It is far too easy to miss the important truths that are communicated in our everyday lives simply because we see them everyday. "If there was anything to learn within my daily story," we reason, "I would have learned it long ago." The world around us ceases to be the amazing and varied creation of God because it is "the same old same old."

But in the strange and exotic. In the stories of the lives of those who live differently than us. We can see the truth of God more clearly than in our own. The deceptive smokescreen of familiarity is pulled away and we see that God is working everyday-- in their lives, yes, but also in our own.

Mankind is made in the image of God. When we know more stories of more men we see God more clearly.

Racepig

2011-11-29T20:00:00.001-05:00

"You can't make a racehorse of a pig"
"No, but you can make a very fast pig."

- John Steinbeck

The Good Lord knows that circumstances aren't always ideal. Sure we have good times, but if we're all honest, most of us would admit to a lot of, if not mostly, hard times.

And there's nothing we can do about. Absolutely nothing. Sure, we pour some of the crap over our own heads, but the vast majority of the crap we're walking through was put there by other people. Some we know. Many we don't. Some of that crap has been siting there for years. Some was there long before we were even born.

So what do we do about it? We have to know what we can change and what we can't. We'll never get rid of all the junk, but we can still live the way God expects us to.

My life will never be a racehorse. But it will be the fastest pig you've ever seen.

Hot and Cold

2011-11-27T12:47:00.001-05:00

I love a cool breeze-- as long as the weather is hot. And I love a warm bed-- as long as the weather is cold. If the weather is moderate-- moderate temperature, moderate sunshine, moderate breeze, etc-- then we don't even notice it. And that's OK I guess but great weather is either hot or cold.

Food is the same. I like hot hot-chocolate, or cold chocolate milk, but nothing in between. I'll reheat leftover turkey, or I'll eat it cold on a sandwich, but lukewarm is the worst.

God feels the same way about people. When speaking to one of His churches he said, "I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth."

Its funny that many people use this quote to challenge themselves and others to avoid being "lukewarm Christians." You should instead be "on fire" for Jesus. Of course you could read this verse that way, but you could also use it to encourage people not to be Christians. Right? God says that He would rather you not be a Christian, than be a lukewarm one?

I don't know. But I know this: Great lives are those that are lived either hot or cold. And nothing great is done halfheartedly. We all know it. God knows it. Will we live it?

The Old Mazda

2011-11-26T17:48:00.001-05:00

The old Mazda is starting to show her age. She doesn't climb hills like she used to. She rattles. She shakes. She squeeks and creaks. Her horn sounds like a dying goose. She's got enough dings and dents, scrapes and scratches to make me say she used to be a nice truck-- but not anymore.

Please don't think I'm complaining she's still a great truck. She's firmly entrenched as my second favorite vehicle of all time. And come to think of it, this afternoon I was driving around town with five adults, seven kids, one baby, four bikes, a soccer ball, and a dog. We were pretty loaded down and the Mazda drove like she was new-- not a rattle, not shake, not a sqeak, not a creak.

I guess she just needs a load on her back to drive straight. Maybe we all do.

The Lazy Man's Game

2011-11-25T06:37:00.001-05:00

George was a tall handsome boy, gentle and sweet, who had from the first a kind of courtliness. Even as a little boy he was polite and what they used to call "no trouble." From his father he inherited the neatness of clothing and body and hair, and he never seemed ill dressed even when he was. George was a sinless boy and grew to be a sinless man. No crime of commission was ever attributed to him, and his crimes of omission were only misdemeanors. In his middle life, at about the time such things were known about, it was discovered that, he had pernicious anemia. It is possible that his virtue lived on a lack of energy. (John Steinbeck)

Way back when, when responsibilities were less, a friend and I spent an afternoon inventing a game. It was called "The Lazy Man's Game" and it went like this. Two teenagers sitting in a room, any room. One teenager tosses something to the other. It can be anything. The game usually starts with a ball but it doesn't have to. The object is to toss the item back and forth with the least possible effort. Don't get up from your seat. Don't make any fast movements. And don't dive for the ball. If you drop the ball, if it falls out of reach, don't go after it. Just find something else within reach that you can throw instead-- again with the least possible effort. This game could last for hours. It had no winners or losers, just the lazy.

When I tell people my life story I always start with my younger years and talk about how I believe God protected me during that time. Not following God, I had no particularly reason to remain on the "straight and narrow" path. And yet for the most part I did. I've always chalked this up to God's hand in my life even before I was aware of it-- I still do. At the same time, I've never been a very high energy person. I can get up early, but I go to bed even earlier. I can work hard but I need my rest. And I'm realizing that laziness can easily be mistaken for virtue. Lazy people never do anything great. But they never do anything terrible either. And so maybe my "virtue" as a child should really be chalked up to laziness.

So to broaden this idea: virtue is not necessarily what it seems. You may be living a life of virtue, but why? Is it laziness? Is if fear? Is it a desire to please others? To fit in? Or do you truly desire to live a life that is pleasing to God? God may have intended you for a great life and you're settling for a virtuous one.

Shock and Awe

2011-11-23T21:47:00.001-05:00

Very few things shock me these days. I've been through the largest natural disaster in the Western Hemisphere. I've been threatened. I've been robbed. I've pulled maggots out of my dog. I've nursed my wife back to health with a giant hole under her arm. I've dealt with intruders. I've confronted unexplained sickness. I've gone crazy. I've watched my kids go crazy. I've been punched, kicked, pinched, bit, sworn at, spit, and peed on. I've spent more time away from my wife than ever before. I've been lied to, lied about, and thrown under the bus. And its left me in a state where very few things shock me anymore.

Words that come to mind for this condition are callous, numb, or apathetic-- not good words. Even good words for this trait-- stoic or staid-- have a negative connotation. So what do I do with all of this? It reminds me of another list--indulge me for a moment.

I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was pelted with stones, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my fellow Jews, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. (The Apostle Paul)

This all began to come together in my mind a few days ago. A friend was speaking about Paul. He was telling the story of Paul being stoned and left for dead outside the city. Paul woke up hours or days later, walked back into the city, and continued serving the very same people that had stoned him. Of course this story was being told in the midst of a group of people who had been robbed at gunpoint and were figuring out how to continue to serve in the very same community that had allowed it to happen.

And suddenly things started to make more sense. All the gushing letters of encouragment. All the people that are "so proud" of what we're doing in Haiti. They feel about us the way people then felt (and still feel today) about Paul. Now don't misunderstand me. I don't for a minute believe the things people say about us. Just like Paul didn't believe the things that were said about him (read the context of the above quote). I don't think there is anything special about us, just like there wasn't anything special about Paul.

Which brings me to the second half of the title-- I am in awe of the way God chooses to work. The amazing things He did that are documented in the bible are still being done today. And some of them He's doing through me.

--------------------

I very much hesitate to post this publically. When I step back and read it, it sounds awefully smug. It reminds me of so many statements by Christians that want to bring attention to themselves without bringing attention to themselves. We wrap bragging in Christian sounding words to dress it up as spiritual.

I hope that I'm not doing that. I don't believe that I am. But if you feel that way about me I'll repeat what I used to have posted on the front-page of my blog:

Please don't judge me on the content of a single post. These are the thoughts that are running through my head and my heart at any given moment and they are all part of the journey. If you don't agree with everything, well, neither do I. But that's not the point. I'm simply trying to give everyone an honest look at the journey that I'm on.

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Right now, honestly, I'm in shock and awe.

The Multitude of Moments

2011-11-22T08:41:00.001-05:00

The direction of a big act will warp history, but probably all acts do the same in their degree, down to a stone stepped over in the path or a breath caught at sight of a pretty girl or a fingernail nicked in the garden soil. (John Steinbeck)

Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, our vineyards that are in bloom. (Song of Solomon 2:15)

The Electoral College is a strange mechanism of the US government by which the president is selected every four years. You would think this process would be a simple election, but in the US, people don't vote for the president. They vote for "electors"-- people who will in turn vote for the president. This is rarely a significant detail, but here is where it can get interesting: Each state has a number of "electors" equal to the number of it's representatives in congress plus the number of it's senators. Now the number of representatives for each state is determined by population. But there are always 2 senators. This means that the number of electors is roughly based on population, but skewed toward smaller states. As a practical example, a vote for president in Wyoming is worth 3 times more than a similar vote in California. So while we American's stay up till all ours of the morning waiting for the results of certain "swing states" like Ohio or Florida, the real election is being decided in small communities all over Wyoming, Vermont, North Dakota, Alaska... This is how George W. Bush won the 2000 election while receiving less votes than Al Gore. His small victories were worth more than Gore's big ones.

My point is this. Many of us think that we are defined by a few momentous decisions in our lives. I think, in reality, we are defined by the multitude of moments in between.