Dusting Off the Old Bible

Another day. Kids off to school and coffee in hand I sit down to deal with the myriad of thoughts swimming. Happy thoughts. Heavy thoughts. How to make sense of it all? I reached for my Bible and dusted it off smiling. That is the only time I have ever smiled at dust. I thought to myself, the phrase “dusting off the old Bible” sure has a whole new meaning around these parts! You can dust and dust some more. Then a truck drives by and within 5 minutes there is another film of dust. I detest the big trucks that drive through here. The noise and dust they bring always sets me on edge. They represent anything but peace to my little world. As I ran my hand over my dust covered Bible I was reminded how much I need it. Then. Now. Always. I need it. I need it before the dust starts flying and wrecking havoc on my day. I need it before the dust has a chance to settle. But oh how quickly the dust settles and stays and discourages! It stares at me standing for everything neglected, everything ugly and unreconciled and wrong with this world. I brush it away and in a moment another truckload of dust barrels into my day and sends me reeling, searching for peace.

It is these IN YOUR FACE reminders that also remind me why I love Haiti so much. There is no forgetting the dust. It is always there. I sweep it away and then another truck comes. And I know that the dusting will never end. Inside. Outside. All around. The truckload of issues is ever present, coming this way, already here. It screeches and halts and completely unnerves me. It makes me feel dirty and sad. Sad that nothing will ever stay clean for long enough to enjoy it. There is this constant longing to feel clean, to experience lasting peace. There is SO. Much. Injustice. There is so much to be done. The dust mockingly reminds us that we can never get ahead. The dust is overwhelming. There is always more to do. Someone needs help. We need help. I need help.
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House # 4…the best saved for last!

House #4

We spent Easter Sunday with missionary friends in our area. Our friends Al and Bev picked us up and took us to the English church in Montrouis. On the way to church Al mentioned that there was a house for rent in their neighborhood that might be a good fit for us but he did not know the price. I somewhat dismissed the idea of looking at another house and especially one that was not within a few miles of the school. After church we went over to our friends Chris and Leslie’s house in Pierre Payen. Montrouis and Pierre Payen are small towns you pass through on the way to St. Marc where we live. We had a great time of fellowship, food and the kids had a blast swimming and hunting eggs. Leslie asked me how the house hunt was coming along. I mentioned that Al had said their was a House #4 in his neighborhood. Leslie perked up and said she thought we should strongly consider that. I respect her opinion. They have struggled through housing situations in Haiti for years longer than we have and she understands the complexities of living here with a family. So I said, “Ok, I will ask Al to check it out for us”, but it is still too far from the school and we don’t have a car. Leslie offered to pick us up on the way to drop their daughter (who goes to our school) in the morning.
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