Saturday, January 16, 2010

Haiti

I type and backspace over it. I restate. I backspace. The annoying upsy downsy line of the cursor flashes. Flashes. Flashes. | | |

I have something to say and I don't know what it is. I have something to do and I don't know what it is. I don't know yet.

Ready.
|
Set.
|
Go.
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My journey to Haiti began long before I arrived, and has not ended. Never will.

I don't know when it began. Here's what I remember.

There were news stories. There were stories from Steve's childhood of a former neighbor. There are people I know.

There were hurricanes. A blog. There was another that embedded a news story in February 2009 of how Haitians are eating dirt baked into cookies to fill their stomachs.

There was a stirring. Prayer. A phone call received. Another made. There was a connection. Decisions. Immunizations. There was action.

There was travel. Worship. Work. Play. Laughter. Dust. Beans and rice. Braids, some of them reddish from malnutrition.

There was an earthquake.

There is now.

There are many ways to help.

Here's one.

Grateful #262. "My" people in Haiti are ok.

2 comments:

Tracy P. said...

My trip to Haiti was 25 years ago right this minute. It was a little like becoming a mom. You can never ever go back to being the person you were before. It's like a part of you dies...that seed that falls to the ground to become something completely new, yet preserving the beauty the life that was.

Happy resurrection. Rejoice in the you that cannot be unmoved.

WheresMyAngels said...

I thought of you when I heard. It's beyond tragic. My heart is breaking.