Clueless

When I first came to the land of "unlimited impossibilities" (I'm quoting John Mchoul- a 25 year missionary in Haiti) I was clueless.

Thinking back to the weeks before making the move that forever changed my life, I remember thinking:

"I'm going to be living in a hut, with mud walls and killing my own chickens for dinner. I will dress in a skirt and an overly modest shirt (like, I got this blouse from my Gram) on a daily basis."

So. very. clueless...

Then, I arrived in Haiti and found that walls are made of cement and roofs of mortar. Dead, cut up chickens can be bought at a local market. My dark blue skinny jeans can still be something I slip on. I was truly relieved (especially about the chickens).

As the months passed by I found out more:

When they tell you 5 P.M. they mean 6:30. P.M. It's called "island time". And you must adapt, there is no other option.

Currency goes as follows: 5 gourdes to a Haitian dollar. So that 500 bill in your hand is only 100 dollars. This is something that takes months to fully comprehend.

The electricity is never consistent. Not much else to say about that besides "Bonjou Mr.Generator and Madame Inverter!"

As the months grew to be many there was still more to be clued in on:

The language- one word can mean five different things. The word for "scared" is the same word for "peace". So figure.

Your facial expressions can literally redefine a simple statement.

This is Haiti and everything is done differently here. Never impose your own ideas and thoughts on a native. Respect them and how they operate. 

I am now on my 15th month of missions and there are still things I am clueless about. Like, why they tell me to wear shoes if my stomach is acting up...but I wouldn't trade the journey to discovering it all for anything!

Mannequins Make Great Models

It must be lovely to be a mannequin; to be perfect in every way and to never have to struggle with emotions.

Sometimes it's typical to think that missionaries have this "all together", "picture perfect", "I'm-working-for-God", "queue the angelic music" kind of life.

Contrary to popular belief, we experience;
doubt,
fear,
loneliness
and anger.

There are times, when we feel so alone, the lizard on the wall seems to be our only companion. We look at the little creature, and in all of our loneliness, we talk to it (don't worry, this doesn't happen a lot). We get pissed to the point where we yell at the coconuts hanging on the tree for not falling (or falling). We get tired of having to communicate in a language other than our own. We look at the fellow to which we are trying to explain something and start to blab in English (yeah, it's kind of awkward).

We have days when we ask ourselves why are we in a third world country - where showers are cold and bathrooms are scarce. Why are we in a country whose currency can be counted in two ways (gourdes and Haitian dollars) and the electricity is never consistent; in a place where everything takes two times longer and is usually done backwards. We ask ourselves these questions and sometimes feel a tad bit clueless and somewhat confused. These feelings and emotions aren't something that disappear as one mounts on a plane to enter the mission field, in search for the will of God. We have no halo, we carry no wings.

We are humans (in a foreign country), trying to conquer the mass of arrows and darts life throws at us. We are humans who have experienced the Grace of God on our lives. This Grace, so intense, so pure, so precious that we can't help but share it with others. And we seek to spread it. This is why we do what we do. Far from perfection and still learning to deal with our vast array of emotions we look to hold the orphan, shelter the parent-less and teach those who would otherwise never get an education.We give of the Grace that was so freely offered to us.

Oh! To be a perfect little mannequin would indeed be ideal, but then I would never have the ability to receive this wonderful Grace and participate in his perfect purpose.