Saturday, January 23, 2010

gratefuls on a saturday morning

263. Basking in morning sunshine.

264. A sweet song.

265. Togetherness.

266. Having no agenda.

Saturday, January 16, 2010


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.


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.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

New Year Gratefuls

258. A new decade, a new year.
259. Dry spells, because the new green that follows is sweeter than that which preceded the dusty brown.
260. My eyes on her eyes.
261. Yes, when no question has been asked or thought.