For Such a Time As This

This morning I was blessed to watch Dadithe in action as she teaches local women how to sew that they might one day be able to sell their products to hopefully offer additional finances for their family. Not to mention they are gaining a wonderful skill or perfecting what they already know.
Class began at its current location at the old Tes & Fils building (for those of you who have been here before).

 They began by singing a hymn which I was only able to sing along by reading the song book as Creole is very easy to read even though I wasn’t sure of what exactly what I was singing!

After singing they began to memorize one of the Psalm’s of David and next Dadithe read from the scriptures and taught a beautiful lesson as the women continued to stand and listen.

Following there was a time of discussion and the devotion time ended in a time of prayer by everyone.

Next the sewing began; today everyone was working on completing skirts and tops they were making. They are beginning with doll clothes to learn the process and next will progress to similar patterns in adult sizes.

Meet Daina, the doll who gets to try on all the new clothes they are making for her. Unfortunately for Daina, I requested to purchase a skirt or outfit from each of the students. Each student offered me to look at what they have made and I chose which I would be purchasing. For some they wanted to put on finishing touches of clasps or a belt and wanted to iron them as Dadithe and the students clearly have a high standard for quality and a pride in what they have created for others to enjoy.

Ironing in Haitian heat is interesting; not to mention the iron is not electric meaning it is filled with hot coals.

At this point they have 7 or more electric sewing machines but are unable to utilize them yet. Dadithe and one of the students used the sewing machine that did NOT require electricity and it worked wonderfully along with a little foot and ankle action. Majority of the doll clothes I will be purchasing today have been sewn by hand which is a wonderful skill that so many women from even the states have lost.

One highlight for me was to see and know that women with little ones are allowed to just bring them to class if needed. Today I met two year old Abigail and after a few minutes she allowed me to hold her, read to her from Dadithe’s Bible and then she peacefully drifted off to sleep allowing her momma uninterrupted time to sew.

I am so proud of Dadithe, for her love of God and her desire to teach other the skills she has been taught. I am grateful to be able to support the Women’s Center, including each of these beautiful young women, and will be hoping and praying with them that they will be able to soon move to their new location which will offer more space and flexibility to expand the options for what the center can offer.

God’s blessing on little Abigail, her mother and the others who are striving to live life here on the Plateau.

Yesterday I had the wonderful opportunity to watch another fine cook in action.

Wilda, a beautiful woman made a sweet treat called Rap and I was allowed to help.  Not much, but I did grate some locally grown coconut with the clear direction to only do the larger pieces as to not grate chunks of my fingers. I was trying to write down the recipe as she made it but I lost track as she cooks a lot like my husband and many other good cooks, by feeling, or smell or something I haven’t figured out. So, start with a good amount of coconut….add around 3-4 ripe bananas.  I look like I am stirring in the one picture but actually I am only smashing little pieces of banana which didn’t take long – just long enough for Judy to snap a picture of me.

Please see bruise near elbow-for full story see previous blog

Then add a whole lot of sugar, I wrote down 4 cups, then 6 and I think it ended up around 7-9, not sure. Next add 6-7 cans (6 oz) of evaporated milk.If you’re not able to open the cans with a can opener go Haitian style with Judy and just take a sharp knife and jab it into the can.  I, nor Wilda was allowed to use this special technique and I, for one, was grateful.

 At some point you will want to run out to your outdoor cooking area and start the homemade charcoals that you will be cooking over. You can take a piece of paper or plastic and hold it burning in your hand while it is burning next to the charcoal until you see the charcoal start to flame. Did I mention you can hold the burning paper in your hand to get the charcoal started?

Then boil and stir and boil and stir until it gets harder and harder to stir to the point where you could use two cooks to stir!

Voila!

Pour finished Rap onto cookie sheet, cool and enjoy, really enjoy….

Oh! Did I mention she also made a peanut butter treat? AND today a molasses tasting cookie!

 Mesi Wilda!

Just getting to Haiti is apparently where the journey begins. I am not the first and won’t be the last to deal with delays and cancelled flights though knowing God is in control always helps.  I was grateful to make some new friends and practice my Creole with my new friends who happened to be in the same boat.

I was met at the airport by Petion who has driven and travelled the route from Anse Rouge to Port au Prince many many times and Wiltha one of the teachers for the school. If you want to see more of the landscape and the culture it’s great to make the drive which actually only took us 6 hours. The drive was fairly uneventful thankful for air conditioning and a skilled driver even when he had no idea what speed he was going!

Having gotten up at 3:15 am (for the second day in a row) it made my guest room a welcoming sight. Krischelle was gracious to offer me the tour of  the “Ocean” themed room which is beautiful and made me feel like I was not here to serve but to be served! Of course the mahogany bed was the most inviting for me.

It was great and refreshing to hear and feel the rain falling as I reconnected with friends. As is always true I will eat the healthiest I do all year long and already it has proven true having been served a tasty chili and cheese quesadilla’s  made with Canadian cheese that ‘found’ its way to Haiti.

My first night in Haiti was humid and hot and on my way to bed I found myself laying on the rocks after my Toshiba computer when flying into the air and landed not far from me.  I discovered that rain soaked Haitian clay- filled ground is a lot like walking on ice like we have in Wisconsin.  I can’t remember the last time I’ve fallen and thankfully nothing broke but my pride and I felt bad for Judy who was walking along side of me as she didn’t know whether to rescue me or my flying computer. Walking a little slower and sitting very gently today and I am STILL very grateful to be here. The humidity is extremely high and it has continued to rain off and on making everything here on the plateau beautifully green and colorful.

Even on a day like today when the teams from the States or Canada are no longer here there is always a lot of activity.  The loudest sounds here are often only the loud roosters or the goats.  So, it seemed strangely out of place to suddenly hear a very loud noise realizing it was a small plane landing on the Lemuel airstrip which the goats have learned to share.  It was a pilot on his way to survey another area of land about an hour away – by truck -to see if another airstrip could be made.

It has been fun to see Jenna again and today she is working on her mural for the front of the church which is beautiful.  Nice to see Sam also who is always busy fixing something and can even take time to offer advice to Jenna.

I am currently sitting at Judy and Manis’ house sipping on Krischelle’s lemon grass, Thai basil tea with a fan blowing directly on me also having been served a tasty and refreshing bowl of mangos. I love the fresh fruit and vegetables they can get here including mangos, tomatoes, and peppers.  It’s interesting what goes in the refrigerator and what doesn’t.

 Nearby sits three beautiful young women embroidering while off and on humming and singing songs in Creole.

 I’ve been so happy to meet again the friends I’ve made and amazingly nearly every single person is asking where my husband is, I guess Randy must have made quite an impression, not to mention they still remember his kettle corn!

OK, well time to take a refreshing afternoon cold shower before the darkness arrives and I have to walk by the beam of a flashlight being extra careful where I step. Two lessons I learned; some mud you sink into and can’t get off your shoes and the other feels a lot like Wisconsin ice; just as hard just not so cold. 

Today even with the heat, humidity and sore “areas” on my body there is no place I’d rather be….

It’s always a wonderful challenge packing to visit a third world country; making sure I take what I can use and often leave as gifts for others. We have so many things that can be easily found here that are difficult to purchase in an area the has few to no stores. Vitamins, herbal supplements, antibiotic ointment, cloth for sewing, craft supplies and of course tasty treats like chocolate- even nutella. Grateful to bring down packages from others as there is no postal service where I am going so nice to bring down gifts and items that others are want to send down with you to their friends and loved ones. You would think traveling in one the poorest countries in the world would be inexpensive but ends up being quite the opposite. Just for gas to journey 124 miles in country (twice) will cost $400.00 and a 7 hour ride. The only other option is a 5 seater plane for $500 and a 1 hour flight.Getting to remote areas in Haiti is so worth it when you are meeting with friends and seeing God provide for their needs and mine. Time to finish organizing suitcases!

Is it a mountain?  Really?  Yes, and it’s not just any mountain but an insurmountable mountain; a mountain full of cold, slippery, icy avalanche killing snow. I’ve ran into these mountains in my life.  Mountains that brought such heartache and pain; a physical, spiritual, & emotional pain so deep that you think your very life could and maybe should… end.

Every day I talk to people who are at the base of their very own mountain unable to manage or imagine they can survive much less conquer what lies before them. Finding it nearly impossible to believe the pain could or will ever lessen- wanting and sometimes trying to find a way to end their life.

Every day I strive to help people find hope and a reason to be willing to wake up tomorrow, to walk through their day and find that they did survive to wake up and then be willing to do it again… for just one more day.  I have noticed that each mountain has a name and often its name is death; death of a marriage, of a child, of a spouse,  and of a dream that will never be fulfilled.  For many who find this mountain climb impassible and impossible will try to hide their mountain view and pain with alcohol, drugs, food or choose to take their own life in the seemingly only way of healing and escape.

For those who are willing to trust me and the words I offer that God created them for a purpose they slowly begin to discover the mountain view is not so ominous or foreboding as it once was.  

Yes, the pain is real and though it remains a mountain to conquer hope begins to take root with the thoughts that “maybe I can live through this” and “maybe my life won’t and doesn’t… have to end”.

My mountains came at unexpected times – for who is truly prepared for the call that says your loved one is being flown by helicopter and may not survive leaving you with three young boys to parent and guide through the heartache and confusion.  Or the mountain of death that takes a brother or the day you embraced a little child for the last time watching him crying for you only to be taken away never to be seen again. These have been my mountains and yes there were many times I wanted to leave this earth and the pain that it held and it was only God who brought me safely over, through and around these mountains that I now can guide others to follow my path of healing and hope. It won’t be easy and it will be painful but it…is…so…worth it to press on, to be willing to wake up just one more day …and then just one more day…until the heartache isn’t quite so deep and the sun begins to feel a little warmer and maybe a little brighter and you begin to sense that there really is a purpose for your life.

Surprisingly, you wake up one day to look back and find that the mountain has found its way into your past; a mountain forever named for the true and authentic pain and loss you and I experienced but now a mountain conquered. I am blessed and honored to be in a place where I can connect daily with people who are at various places on their mountain experience and what a joy when they can join me in looking back at our mountains knowing they too are healing and finding purpose once again.

     Growing up I recall receiving letters that would arrive in the mail box feeling just a little thicker and addressed very formally to my parents. Within the outer envelope would be another envelope which listed the names of my parents again.  What I waited to hear was if I was invited.  Sometimes I would be named personally and at other times the envelope would not necessarily name me personally but would at least say “and family” then that meant me. From the age of ten I was the only child living at home so I thought it odd that one person qualified for the definition of “and family” but either way I would be grateful to be invited.  Many times I or the “and family” was not invited and my parents would go without me. Very often they would return home saying the guest of honor always asked where I was and would hear that it was ‘just an oversight’ not to name me on the envelope. My mom would say how bad she felt that I had to miss out on such a beautiful and fun occasion.  I would also hear how so many other people, usually children, were also at the event though they were not personally named on their invitation. I used to think how bold and courageous someone was to just go somewhere special even if you were not personally invited.   My mother always made it clear to me that it didn’t matter what other people did because in our family ‘you don’t go where you are not personally invited’ and I learned to live by that message.

This interesting childhood message came to me recently as I waited to hear word about when I might travel to visit a ministry I have come to know, love and support.  I began to have this familiar feeling arise from my past that said, “maybe you are not invited….”, I could feel the same emotion rise over my body that my mind and heart apparently has held onto for decades; others have been invited and others just go whether or not they are personally invited, not you, you will wait for your invitation. Clearly it was more than a name on an envelope to me. To be invited placed a value on my worth; that I was noticed, that I mattered and that I was wanted.

As quickly as I heard these all too familiar voices in my head I also heard another voice that lovingly said, “You… are… invited”.  That was the heart of God speaking to that little girl within me making sure I knew that He was personally inviting me.  “You are invited to serve and feed my children, you are invited to go where those who need to hear of Me live, you are invited to go to those who need to know of My love for them. My child, I invite you”.

Yes, Jesus knows the childhood messages that I and others often hang on to that have shaped and sometimes hurt our view of ourselves, others and God.  I actually had a wonderful sense of peace that God knows what He is doing and His timing is just perfect therefore I decided to patiently wait on word from the ministry.  I trust and believe that God not only desires that I go into the world and serve Him daily but that He calls me to this and when God allows it I will also travel to distant lands to serve and share God’s love. I have discovered it is through serving and loving others that I am changed and the message that God has chosen me and that He values me becomes more and more real. How grateful I am to be invited to tell others of His love.

Interestingly it was only one more day before I received my invitation via email inviting me to return to Haiti. Today makes it now only 13 days away before I will be reunited with some dear friends who share with me more than I could ever give to them.

 Is family defined by what you were born into, adopted into, married into or by a unity of faith and beliefs?  This weekend I enjoyed spending time with family and I can define family by all of the above!  We had a wonderful time meeting the newest family member-Ruby. Ruby is a beautiful little red-headed descendent of the Stockbridge-Munsee Tribe; a band of the Mohicans. Ruby met her 92 year old Great Grandma Murphy and Great Aunts and Uncles; held and loved by us all.

Soon we’ll be driving the 9 hours back north away from the blooming lilacs, lawns being watered and mowed into dwindling piles of snow and colder temperatures. Spring does eventually arrive in Northern Wisconsin it just takes a little longer and this winter has been exceptionally long!

I hear the sound of carefully placed footsteps and the gentle tapping of a cane knowing the oldest of this family is packed and ready to go.  Not too many minutes earlier I heard the sound of our youngest family member briefly crying most likely now being fed and loved by her beautiful mother.

Grateful today for family, friends, the aroma and beauty of spring… and Ruby.

So many thoughts and so little time left to sleep tonight. After writing all that I wanted to say under the “ABOUT” tab I find I am now ready for sleep next to my hubby in my”queen” size bed. I just think that is funny after my reflections on Queen Esther. Only Randy knows the jokes we’ve had about my potential royal ancestry.  So, THAT will have to be left for another day…

Thanking Jesus for the price He paid for my sins….