By Susan Sciarratta, Woodside Presbyterian Church, Yardley, PA
As we prepared to re-enter the United States on February 13, I reflected much on our past week’s work in Haiti and Jimani. What stood out most was the juxtaposition of goodness and evil, life and death, beauty and ugliness, laughter and tears, heartbreak and hope, in all that surrounded us. The monotony of tents against the majestic backdrop of the Haitian mountains…a newborn set of twins sleeping a few feet away from a dying grandmother….the abundant food and medical supplies with no system of distribution….the little girl rescued from being trapped underground for two days, whose aunt told us that she would have been better off dead along with her mom and baby brother…the boy with the distended belly smiling as his mother bathed him…the traumatized Haitians refusing shelter in a building for fear of the aftershocks.
I learned to say three phrases in Creole: Good morning/afternoon, How are you, and God bless you. That was truly enough to touch people. God’s grace and His Holy Spirit filled in the blanks when words failed. Not surprisingly, the language barrier lent quite a few comical moments. I approached an older gentleman and greeted him with my best Creole. He didn’t say much. Then my friend Lynne came up and said, “Hi!” The man responded -- in perfect English -- “Hey, where are you guys from anyway?” It turns out he was from Florida and was in Port au Prince at the wrong time. I really enjoyed praying with him because he actually understood what I was saying. Also, I had a nice conversation with three young women who had escaped their university building during the earthquake; we spoke through Isidro (FFP staff) who speaks both Spanish and Creole. I enjoyed being in many such conversations where combinations of Spanish, French, Creole, and/or English were volleyed back and forth.
My favorite work project was building five private shower stalls at the Love A Child camp. I worked with Emily, Branko, Pastor Bronny, Isidro, JJ, and a couple of Haitian volunteers. A truly global effort! Not only was it great to complete this project in less than a day, it was gratifying to see the showers being used immediately after we completed them. It was a simple way to restore a little dignity to our Haitian brothers and sisters.
As I conducted my work, I felt like a soldier of Christ on the battleground of good versus evil. Armed with my breastplate of righteousness, the belt of truth, the sword of the Spirit, and some copies of Creole scripture, I went from tent to tent with a big smile and a heavy heart. The best part of my trip was sitting with the refugees at their tents, listening to their stories and then praying with them. We were so blessed to have Vicki and Anide with us, who could translate between English and Creole. I know that God did not send me to Haiti because of my biceps or brawn or background in First Aid, but the blessing that I could be to my Haitian brethren in just being present. The gift of presence cannot be overrated. We were so affirmed when one woman said, “Today is the first day I feel like a human being.” It was not the tent, medical care, or food that she received, but the nourishment of God’s love provided by a simple human touch.
This place truly was a battleground. So many tragedies and evils abounded; the helicopter crash, the two traumatized Haitians who jumped to their death following an aftershock, the renegade group leader who undermined our mission at the ARC camp, the feelings of defeat and worthlessness that so often plague missionaries. But ever faithful, God reminded us of His holy presence, His completeness, and His redemptive grace. I have never seen the night sky so brilliant as that first night in Jimani. God, you took my breath away. You gave me the holy privilege of building up the body of Christ, one tent at a time. You showed me amputated limbs and broken bones lifted up to You in worship and praise, one month after the earthquake. Unbroken spirits. The hypnotic rendition of “Breathe” sung by our FFP friends in Spanish, which lifted me so high. We came face to face with You in every person that we touched. You provided us a cloud of witnesses from Vermont to Ecuador, and together we ran with perseverance, restoring Your goodness, with eyes fixed on our Lord and Savior.
I don’t know how the story will end. I pray that hearts will be softened throughout Hispaniola. I pray that the world will not soon forget the plight of the Haitians. And I pray that this devastated country will be rebuilt on the foundation of Jesus Christ. Amen.