Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Don't blink.

There's a song that my dad likes to sing to me by Kenny Chesney called 'Don't blink'.
The words of this song echo how fast paced life is. Time is fleeting, and the more you try to cling on to the moment, the faster the wheels seem to spin. It's that pit in your stomach, the lurch of change and things you can never control. It's the flurry of butterflies and the living in the moment and embracing all that is to come.
This past week there has been a whirlwind of emotion and memories and celebrations as we've wrapped up the school year and said goodbye to the beloved Rumford family.
This is us at the beach for Teagan and Maddy's graduation.

The Rumfords have become such an integral part of bringing hope to Haiti this year, and we will miss them VERY much. Grant's presence at the clinic and his emergency services with the ambulance were a God send to Haiti this year. Sandy's work through HaitiOne and each of the kid's bright smiles and involvement in programs with the Hope House and church will leave a big hole in all of our lives. Please keep each of them in your prayers as they head home to Canada and begin again.
Watching them pack up has reminded me of my upcoming return home as well, which brings mixed feelings.
I have a lot of anticipation about flying home on July 1st (Canada day - good timing, eh?). I can't wait to embrace and catch up with so many loved ones, to take some long country drives, to share stories and pictures, and indulge in some tastes that I have missed. I am also relieved to come away and have more time to process the events following my return in January. Just last week I joined a team in their trip to Port-au-Prince to see the effects of the earthquake and on our return we stopped at the mass grave located in the mountains nearby Titanyen. This is where over 60,000 bodies from Port-au-Prince were buried. Had I known that this stop would be included in the trip, I wouldn't have jumped on the bus. In my mind, I was nowhere near ready to face this magnitude of a reality, but my will wasn't enough to keep the bus on the highway. We veered onto the goat path of a road and climbed up to a flattened piece of land on the mountainside. There was a cross made out of what looked to be rebar on the high point of the hill. The rest was a barren field, which symbolizes my feelings well. My fears and day by day grievances have faded, but there is still a lot under the surface. I trust that as I come away for a while, that there will be time to process and prepare for all that is to come as I return. Thank you for all of your prayers as I've been away and I can't wait to see you all and live in the blessing of my church family.

In the same way, the idea about packing up for 2 months while life continues on in Haiti isn't going to be easy. I know the goodbyes that I have to say aren't forever, but I will surely miss my other home. I feel like especially in the past 5 months, my relationships with the people of Haiti as well as the MOH Staff have gotten a lot stronger, and I will miss them all terribly. Seeing the bright eyes of village children as they wave. Sharing a Haitian meal with friends after church on Sunday. The steady stream of loved ones coming into my apartment and plopping on my couch. Making banana muffins with my students. Visiting the beautiful amputees in the patient ward. Fresh grenadia juice. Cold showers, acoustic music and a humming fan after a hot day. Mountain family visits and watching Poppy's watermelons grow. Hailing down a tap tap and crunching in. The most breathtaking sunsets and thunder clouds spanning the sky.

The road for this year's journey in Haiti is coming to an end and I stand amazed at all the Lord has done in Haiti and in my life. As I live out these final days I sing along with the song - I don't want to blink. I don't want to miss a moment. And yet just as the seasons change, I am confident that the Lord will have fresh provisions in store for whatever comes next.

Lord, you have been our home since the beginning.
Before the mountains were born and before you created the earth
and the world, you are God.
You have always been, and You always will be.
~ Psalm 90:1-2


Renee said...

I imagine that having 2 homes is hard, you miss both when you're in the other and people in both homes miss you too. I am so glad that you're able to serve God and follow His will for you life even when it's hard to do so. I love your stories and hope to hear many more over the summer months. Can't wait to see you when you get back. Prayers

Anonymous said...

I have just stumbled upon your blog. Wow! It looks like you have a great ministry in Haiti, teaching these children, among all your other activities!

Blessings to you as you return to Ontario for a well-deserved rest this summer.

Michel Savard
Gatineau, Quebec, Canada