I sit in my bedroom. Windows wide, inviting the fresh morning air to linger long. My quilted bedspread still hasn't been made, crumpled under my morning devotional readings and the laptop I type on. Desk and cabinet space are consumed with canisters of creams and soaps, granola bars, ziploc bags, phone cords and spare change. The piles that develop on my floor from summer accumulation are progressively taken to the basement where my suitcases sit at a close distance to the scale... A slow but steady build up to 50 pounds.
Tomorrow is transition day. I will wake up before dawn in this same Wainfleet bed, wrapped under covers and sock feet, and hours later lay my head down in Titanyen, where the buzz of a fan coupled with a hopeful evening breeze will lull me to rest again.
As always, I have mixed emotions about returning to Haiti. Summer 2012 has been more of a blessing than I can put into words, and it's hard to think about closing this wonderful chapter. Clinging to comforts has and always will be my default, and I dread the end of this familiar routine. I can still smell Grandma's perfume from our goodbye hug earlier today. As she drives away, there begins a knot in my throat which will stubbornly take up residence for the coming days. If any of you have advice on how to make goodbyes easier, I would be glad to listen.
But in my mind there is also picture of what awaits: Pierre's reaching hands and bright white teeth, barefeet that run in my direction from mountain houses, loud Creole greetings across the fields, a much anticipated morning routine with my boys in the classroom, and a next door living room full of beautiful hearts and laughter. Oh, how I have MISSED these moments!
And so amidst the tension of going and coming, sadness and excitement, I find myself in a familiar sense of desperation for the One true constant in my life. The peace that I can be rooted in despite the emotional roller coaster I'm about to jump on. Dad's stereo plays downstairs, and I stop and sing along word for word with a song I've known for years...
Come and fill my heart with hope,
Come and fill my life with love,
Come and fill my soul with strength to carry on
because from here the climb is steep, the road is long.
Come and fill my days with dreams,
Empty me of all the empty things that I hold onto,
Come and fill my life with You.
Yes, this is my prayer, sent from heaven.
This is what I long for - that Jesus would come and fill. That I may I be able to testify the way that He alone fills me with hope and love, fills me with strength and dreams, and may I be emptied, only to be filled again with Jesus.