Adjusting to life back home after Haiti

                          

 

 Haiti was the hardest thing I’ve ever done and at the same time, it was the best experience of my life. There’s a whole lot to say about this trip. Lots of which will stay in my heart. But I’m provoked to share this piece.

 

 By the way, I’m surprised at myself since I hate writing. Ask my sisters. They’ve witnessed me write college essays with tears streaming down my face; blood, sweat and tears go into a two paper. I swear I’ve started writing about my trip to Haiti several times but I quit before I even get to the third sentence. The words just don’t come. But these thoughts came naturally so I feel compelled to share.

 

Before we left Haiti our team talked about adjusting to life back home. We talked about how to process the emotions we were going to experience. Maybe sadness from what we’ve witnessed or the feeling of guilt because of all the stuff we have compared to the little they had.

 

So I left Haiti expecting to feel some sort of negative emotion. When I realized that I wasn’t really feeling anything, I blamed it on my exhaustion. When that passed I still wasn’t feeling sad or guilty. I honestly thought I was the worst missionary ever. I questioned my compassion and authenticity. Did I just take a one-week vacation to Haiti? I didn’t know what to think.

 

I turned to God with my questions. Since then I have been reflecting on Haiti and this is the realization I’ve come to:

 

I think the reason I adjusted so seamlessly to life back home is because outside of my family and church, I’m surrounded by godless people. I’m aware of it and my heart hurts for the people around me. I can’t imagine what its like to live without hope. Frankly, it scares me half to death. So my heart is constantly hurting. When I’m around people at school or work I am sad that they haven’t “tasted” or “seen” the goodness of God.

 

In my pondering I was reminded of the verse in Philippians 3 that says “I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” Yeah, the Haitians have very little water and they take bucket showers. Yes, they have little to no electricity. Yep, most of them sleep on concrete floors. But knowing Christ Jesus as Lord surpasses worth. This verse should translate into the life of every believer. I drive a Honda Civic but knowing Christ Jesus as my Lord surpasses worth. My Haitian friend rides a rusty old bike but knowing Christ Jesus as his Lord surpasses worth.

 

The same troublesome feeling I have when I’m around my classmates and coworkers who don’t know Jesus is the same feeling I had in Haiti each night as I tried to fall asleep, doing my best to ignore the drums in the background. Everyone needs to know about Jesus because everyone deserves hope.

 

I guess what I’m trying to say, you’ve all heard before. It is what gave me peace of mind in my doubt. I’m not a bad missionary. But just like my heart was broken over the voodooist I encountered in Haiti, my heart breaks the same for my lab partner who doesn’t know Jesus, right here in my own backyard.