Tomorrow

*Written in early September but just now publishing.

I met Florence six months ago. The neighborhood we moved to a year ago is not one that we see our neighbors as often as we did in our former Haiti hangout. Most of the houses near us are beach houses that are only frequented on the weekends or holidays. This has been a nice break considering homeschooling and feeling like we can be home when we are home without a thousand knocks on the gate. But it feels weird after living in close quarters knowing all our neighbors business and them knowing ours for five years. So it felt really nice to meet our neighbor Florence and develop a friendship that felt easy and encouraging in the months that followed.

Florence is a kindred spirit whose family is quite accomplished in the arts. She shared her love of the beach with me while opening up about the trials and joys of caring for her two special needs grandchildren. She got a kick out of my beach going goats, put up with my barking dogs and schooled me on how to buy fresh fish from the local fishermen.  Florence was always encouraging and quick to speak of God’s abiding love and faithfulness. I always looked forward to seeing her and would find myself taking walks to the beach just to see if she was there. Florence seemed to enjoy life to the fullest despite obvious hardships and it was her custom to take a dip in the ocean each day. She suffered from a respiratory illness that she believed our Haiti beach cured.  She said, “When I am in the salt water I can breathe deeply and am free from the confines of my machine.”

Eric and I kept talking about having Florence and her husband Jon over for dinner but we were very busy and had an overload of houseguests during the month of August when they were both here. We kept saying, “maybe tomorrow” but tomorrow turned into days and days turned into weeks. Finally, after weeks of wanting to extend hospitality to our neighbors but not acting on that, Eric stopped by their house on his way home one day. We knew Florence’s husband had gone back to work in Florida and  Eric wanted to check to see if she needed anything we could assist her with and also plan a get together. But instead of seeing Florence’s delightful countenance, Eric was met with the grieving faces of her housekeepers telling Eric that Florence had suddenly passed away a few days before. They explained that something had gone wrong with Florence’s oxygen intake. They rushed her to our local hospital that is just two miles away but were not able to get the help she needed quickly enough. It grieves us so much that people die waiting for oxygen. People die waiting for blood. People die all the time in Haiti for things that could have been fairly easily prevented. We are tempted to think this is just a poverty issue. But it’s not.

Florence was a wealthy Haitian. She has three homes. Two in upper class areas of Haiti and another in Boca Raton, Florida. The one neighboring us was her lovely beach vacation home she had almost finished remodeling. She had contacts, money, and was living a healthy lifestyle. But none of these things helped save our friend Florence. Her medical issues were known and she and her caretakers knew what to do. I was with Florence once when they were hosting the director of the hospital on a beach luncheon where she introduced us. Florence and her husband Jon were good friends with the director of the very hospital where she died.

Hearing the name “Florence” over and over in recent months thanks to the hurricane that bears the same name made it hard not to dwell on her passing–the reasons for that, what that says about Haiti, what that means for us and for all those we love and serve here. After living here for a good while now, we are all too aware that any amount of money, the right contacts, foreign aid, better hospital equipment, etc., etc. will never fix Haiti. Her issues are deep rooted in the belief that one is not responsible for ones own actions and often does not consider tomorrow. It is easy to judge Haiti. But I know I am often guilty of the same in thinking we have tomorrow and taking today for granted.

I think in some ways my Haitian friends understand and live this better than we do. The Bible says not boast about tomorrow (Prov. 27), not to worry about tomorrow (Matt. 6), and to make the best use of our time because the days are evil (Eph. 5). Because we have no idea what will happen tomorrow (James 4).  I’m thinking about Florence and so many other dear ones that didn’t get tomorrow. I know we can’t say “yes “to everything today. Somethings have to wait until tomorrow. But cherishing those in our lives is important TODAY. What if we don’t have tomorrow? What if they don’t have tomorrow?

Recently, I was going through the photos on my phone and sent about five dozen to a printing company in order to give them to the Haitian families whose beautiful faces I was granted the honor of photographing. By the time I got them back in the Haiti mail two of the children in my pictures had passed away. And for another, I had the last picture they would ever have of their family with their father. These are most likely the only pictures they will ever have to remember their loved ones.

Someday there will be no more todays and no more tomorrows. Just eternity. What we do today may determine someone else’s tomorrow for forever.