Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Waiting.


I haven't quite been able to digest how Haiti has impacted me. More than just Avery's country: the faces, the sights, the sounds, the smells - it's like it all seeped into my skin and soaked my soul, drenching now in faith, dripping in compassion, and I'm too afraid of what happens if I wring it out.

The homes we passed by could barely be described as houses. Sheds, maybe. Shacks, mostly. 5 people living in the size of my smallest bedroom. My living room - the one I complain is too small and awkward, the one where fitting furniture is too tricky for my patience - my living room is twice the size of these homes.

The kids go hungry.

The mothers go hungrier.

And yet, when we came, no one seemed angry, or jealous, or even mentioned all of our ridiculous excess. (They didn't need to. I felt my ridiculous excess to the core of my being.)

Instead, they were just happy we were there. Thankful. Grateful.

They walked for hours to see the doctors.

Waited for hours more just to be seen.

Waited in the hot sun. Back straight in perfect posture. No overstuffed diaper bags filled with toys and gadgets and fruit snacks and juice bottles to keep the kids occupied. No, the kids just waited, too.

(How long do I wait before I complain? 15 minutes? Ten? I'm busy, you know. I had a scheduled appointment.)

Quick with smiles. Some shy. Some gregarious. All filled with kindness.

Never complaining while they waited.

Always waiting.


Please enjoy this short video
highlighting some images from our trip.

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