Memorable Moments & Stories

Youzline...

2/10/2018

Many of you remember this single mom. A couple years ago, her 9 year old daughter came to our clinic because her father had held her hand to a fire as a punishment for drinking his drink. When the father then threatened to lite the rest of the children on fire-we quickly took the mom and her 3 other children in, and many of you gave funds to cover the daughter’s ongoing medical care for months. She is doing very well now 😊

However, a few months ago, the oldest daughter died suddenly. One day she complained of pain in her leg, and she died two days later. I hadn’t seen this mom since and so it was a bitter sweet reunion. We both sat and cried and remembered beautiful Daphne.

Awhile ago, she had asked me if it was possible to bring her a sewing machine so that she could open up a little boutique to make and sell clothes to provide for her remaining children. Laura Youngblood Daggett provided a sewing machine a few days ago, and it just so happened that the two lovely seemstresses that come down here once a year to Mission of Grace are here!
Today we had a sewing lesson for her. She made a purse out of an old shirt as well as a skirt for her daughter. Our seemstresses said she is a natural and she will do very well and have a good business as a tailor 😊

Thank you Laura and thank you everyone who has been apart of this family’s rough journey. We will continue to follow them and help where we can. Thank you all

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Onward...

8/4/2017

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Hello friends and family. I wanted to take a moment and update you all. We have been back in Roseville for just over 3 weeks now. While it is nice to enjoy the luxuries of a modern culture, the excitement and novelty of those luxuries has definitely worn off already. We all miss Haiti and the people there very much.

Tass went back into working with his best friend and his A/V company, Alive Media. We are so grateful for the ability to just pick back up into the swing of things and certainly don't take that ease for granted. We really believe God has set things up for our family so that we can live this lifestyle of coming and going.

We do not know how long we will be in California this time. Haiti has really chilled me out in my type A, have-to-know-everything, crazy planner personality. I've learned to take it all in stride...and to keep our passports close by :) We are hoping and planing to make a trip back out to Haiti in October. For now though, we are focused on working and saving money.

We thank you all so much for your support over the months and years. Like I said, we are back into the swing of things here and are grateful for the financial provision that has come our way. For those that wish to discontinue their monthly support, you can do so through our website (link at the bottom of the page). And for those who would like to continue their monthly support, any and all funds will be routed into our Haiti account and set aside for future trips, orphanage supplies, and ongoing needs that Mission of Grace has. If you wish to do that, that would be a huge blessing to us and the mission.

We hope you all enjoy the rest of your summer and I'm sure we'll be seeing many of you around xxoo

~Sheena & family

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Summer update!

6/6/2017

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Good morning friends and family! Hope everyone is doing well, healthy, and enjoying the start of summer! This is going to be short and sweet because electricity has been in and out, but I just wanted to give you all an update on the recent happenings here and our plan for the summer.

Things have been great this last month, and for those that follow me on Facebook and/or Instagram, you've seen all that we've been up to lately. This month, in the midst of many visitors coming to see Mission of Grace for the first time, we've been able to do a lot of house visits-which Tass and I love. We walk around the village, check on people, see who is sick, how we can help, who needs to be sent to the hospital, see how we can improve their living conditions, etc. After the mudslide in 2015 that wiped out many homes, we have families parceled out all over the village waiting for new homes to be built. Some are living in tents, no beds, 4-5 children in a tiny little tent, often very hungry and dirty. We do what we can, give what we can, and trust God for more. Tass and I absolutely love walking around the village and connecting with the people in that way.

I am still amazed at the human brain and its capacity to learn new things. I'd say we've got 60/70% of the language down. Not fluent yet, but certainly on our way. This has helped tremendously in forming deep relationships.

In the last month, we did have one of our grandpas from our elderly home die. I went up there one morning and Villius did not look well. The grandmas and grandpas often complain of pain and aches (naturally), but I think now we've been here long enough to sort of gage when they're close to actually dying. When I saw him, I knew he didn't have much time left. He said he was having a hard time breathing. His feet had been swollen for a couple weeks (despite meds) he was in pain, and our doctor said he was in heart failure. I sat with him for awhile, put my arms around him, and told him that I love him and wanted him to know that wasn't alone. Hugged him tight before I left, and he died the next morning. Can't wait to see him again one day :)

A few days later, I got to deliver a baby :)

...which was of course a wonderful, hot, sweaty, exhausting mess. And I'll tell ya...one really can't quite comprehend just how much a person sweats down here until they make the journey themselves. All you need to do is stand completely still, and the sweat begins to roll down your entire body within seconds. And my heart aches almost every night when I lay my head on my cold pillow and know that thousands of people just a couple hundred feet away from me, will never experience that. When our electricity and AC kicks on every night around 8:30PM, we are always very grateful. Summer is coming up, and there are certainly days where not even the AC cools the body down. We try to keep an eye on this, not just for us and our kids, but for visitors too who often get overheated.

Speaking of visitors, my parents are actually on their way here as I type this. So our plan for the summer is that I will be going home this coming weekend, and taking Ellie (our oldest) with me. Tass will stay in Haiti until mid July with Lilah, our youngest. We thought a lot about this, but realized it was a necessary sacrifice. I will be going home to work more on our business and get our family fully sustained on the mission field.

While we are grateful for our supporters and donors, we have decided that going forward, we really do not want to itinerate and ask for support for ourselves personally anymore. We would rather our supporters give to the actual orphanage, the new school building, our grandma's home, etc and not our family's personal expenses to keep us here in Haiti. I have worked a little bit on our business while we have been here, and am happy to say that our family is about half funded for our monthly personal expenses solely through a steady stream of residual income. I will be going home to utilize the summer months to get our family fully self sustained. I will be teaching classes, working at farmers markets, and helping educate people on the medicinal uses of essential oils-which as many of you know is all our family uses while here in Haiti. Our clinic has started to use them more, and we've recently even connected with another medical clinic here in Haiti that exclusively uses essential oils to treat patients. Just last week, news came out that Mayo Clinic, Vanderbilt, Duke, University of Utah, and John Hopkins are all starting to use essential oils medicinially. It is very exciting and fun, and we are very grateful that this avenue also provides a way for our family to be fully sustained, and hopefully very soon.

So that is our plan, and I cannot WAIT for the day when I can email all of our current supporters and release them :) Release them to either move on and support other volunteers around the world (because let's face it, there are MANY doing great things all over the globe), or ideally, have our supporters throw their funds towards Mission of Grace and the work that is being done here. So that is where we are headed, and I just wanted to candidly share all of that with you. We thank you for your love and support and INTEREST still in what we do here, and know there are many of you wanting to come check it out in person in the next year or so. That thrills us more than anything.

Ok I've gotta run because my computer is being a bit funky and I want to get this out before it crashes. (Sad side note: last week, before we left for church, we were getting ready and the water was out. Of course we make do and skip our showers, but when one of the girls turned on the sink faucet and realized the water was out, they forgot to put the handle back down. We went to church, and while we were at church, I guess the water came back on. We came home to a completely flooded house. Our laptops, batteries, fans, cords, chargers, all floating in inches of water. It was a very stressful moment that definitely called for some Barbancourt. Needless to say, I think our daughter's will never remember to turn the faucet sink off).

Hope you all have a wonderful week this week and I will see some of you this coming weekend!

Our sweet sweet girl up in Plaisance who was burned very badly last year when a kerosene lamp fell on her. Doctors from Virginia have been coming throughout the year to help treat her and today she is so much better!

As always, you can click on one of the above links to either our website, facebook, email address, or instagram account for more updates.

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April/May Update

5/7/2017

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April/May Update, 2017

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Bonjour! We can't believe it's already been almost a month since we returned to Haiti. We hit the ground running and have not looked back.

For Easter, we had two large feedings throughout the day, feeding well over 600 people. My parents then conducted the first ever Easter egg hunt at the orphanage....with over 80 children. It was so fun to see them searching for eggs all over the compound. Some didn't know what the heck was going on-with a concept so foreign and strange to them, but once they realized candy was inside the eggs-they moved a bit faster :)

My mom, a few friends and I decided to bake cupcakes for Easter as well. That was quite an interesting ordeal, as the oven where we live is not so big, there is no temperature gauge on it, and of course we don't have things here like oven mitts, electric mixers, etc. It took 2 days to bake over 300 cupcakes but we did it and the community enjoyed them very much :)

A few days later I took our teens girls from the orphanage on a special outing for pizza in Port-au-Prince. I don't know why I didn't realize it sooner, but several of the girls had never been in an enclosed vehicle before (we took a van), and so as a result, many of them got carsick. They threw up the entire hour and a half ride to the pizza place. No bags, no bowls, they just threw up all over the inside of the vehicle. Now I get very carsick as well, then add in the smell of vomit on top of that...it was not so pleasant.

But we finally arrived, and the girls were much better. They had never been to a restaurant before either so when we sat down at our large table, no one said a word. They all just sat there and looked nervous not knowing how to conduct themselves. I told them that they are allowed to talk in a restaurant and have a good time. They then started loosening up a bit and conversing. Before we left, I asked the manager for 16 bags for the car ride home, knowing there was a high likelihood that they would be throwing up the pizza they just ate. I took them for ice cream as well; we celebrated April birthdays and then got back in the car for the hour and a half ride home. (And yes, they threw up on the way back too).

Next time, we shall not venture out so far.

A week later, we then celebrated our own Lilah's birthday, as well as Miss Lynn's, the founder of Mission of Grace. I think it is special that they share a birthday, as many words have been spoken over our girls about their future leadership in this country-serving these people. There is something so deeply satisfying as a parent seeing your children's heart ache for the poor, forgotten and broken. We don't take it for granted that our children love doing this with us, and often go into full on depression when we are not in Haiti. I know this is only the beginning for them.

Last week, we had a team from Florida come and it was go go go the entire time they were here. Each team that comes usually always has their own ideas of what they want to contribute to the mission: do they want to do construction projects, work with our elderly, do physical therapy with our special needs children, teach English in our schools, do week long dental care, etc. We are so blessed to be able to receive such a variety of specialities nearly every week, and this past week was no exception. The team from Florida came to break down darkness-period.

As many of you might recall, our last time here we definitely sensed deeper levels of hostility, voodoo, and just plain evil among our village. This team held nightly services of prayer, worship, and preaching; but instead of holding these gatherings in our church we held them either outside or in our community center building. We didn't plan on it turning into revival type gatherings, but they definitely did. Men and women who never would have stepped foot in church heard the music, came, and listened. Our building was so packed it spilled out outside. Voodoo witch doctors came. People from high up the mountain came.

One of the pastors from the team encouraged the people and even gave prophetic words of knowledge: things he couldn't possibly know about people and situations, as this was his first time to Haiti. He even gave Tass and I a word: that our family is called to serve many nations, not just Haiti- confirming what we already know, as well as confirming several other words that have been spoken over us and even a prophetic word Tass received when he was 12 years old. I highly respect individuals who not only hear God's voice clearly, but don't make it about them, but sincerely just want to encourage and affirm others. Our village, our staff, our long term team here, and all of the children in our care were deeply touched and encouraged last week. We can't thank Pastor Joelle and Pastor Elizabeth enough for coming and pouring into so many lives. We know a partnership was started that God will build upon in the future months and years.

After all of the nightly gatherings, on Sunday afternoon we held a baptism in the ocean which was very powerful and moving. Tass and I are under the persuasion that whoever baptizes you should be the one who is mentoring, discipling and training you-which is why he will be the one baptizing our girls one day, when and if they choose to do that. That thought/opinion isn't quite popular in this culture or even ours back home; it is usually deemed the "pastor's" responsibility. But oftentimes, the pastor does not even know the person. There is no relationship there. It may even be the person's first time seeing that pastor once they step foot in the water. To each his own. But we believe baptizing someone is the honor and privilege of whoever is teaching and mentoring that person.

When Tass saw one of our young boys from the orphanage that he loves dearly get in the water, Tass emptied his pockets, took out his phone and watch and jumped in the water to help baptize this young man: Claudi. 13 years old and a sweet, sweet kid. Since we committed to Haiti, Tass has committed part of his days and time to mentoring this young man. I actually do love how, in that moment, my husband disregarded culture, or the proper way of doing things. He wasn't invited to go baptize him. Tass has not even technically been given the title of pastor (although he functions in that capacity daily without the title). But he recognized the responsibility he has towards Claudi and literally jumped at the chance to carry that responsibility. It brings me to tears once again just reflecting on that moment. That same day, a few hours later, Claudi stood up in front of all of the kids, nannies, staff and us and thanked Miss Lynn for rescuing him. He said, "I know if it weren't for you, I would be dead right now". He is a very special young man, and those of you who have met him know exactly what I am talking about :)

Please continue to pray for him and all the children under our care. Our orphanage is ever growing and currently we are in need of more child sponsorships. $50 a month will cover the cost of a child's meals, healthcare, clothing, shelter, and nannies. If you would like to sponsor a child monthly, you can click here which will take you to Mission of Grace's website:

Child Sponsorship

Have you ever heard of pink eye infecting everyone in an entire country all at the same time? That is also what has been going on this past month. We have an epidemic of something resembling pink eye, although much worse, and it's affecting the entire nation. We initially thought it was just Carries, but then started getting reports from friends in other parts of the country. It is 5 hours north and 5 hours south, etc. It presents as pink eye, but lasts much longer, is more painful, and eyes typically swell 3-4 times their size and most often are completely swollen shut for several days. We all initially thought it was either viral or bacterial (obviously) but the more this thing continues and the way it's spreading, we are fully convinced it's actually airborne. Teams come, and within hours from landing, they have it. Something is blooming in the air throughout Haiti...some sort of allergen that is causing this pink eye epidemic.

Up until now, still, the typical drops for pink eye have not been effective for anyone. Haitian themselves, who don't have access to medicine, have been trying many old wives tales: some jumped in the ocean and opened their eyes, thinking the salt water would kill it. Some took lemons and squirted the juice all over their eyes. Some put alcohol in a bowl and then opened their eyes it in. I reached out to friends all over the country and they too were having no luck with any medications (and obviously not the old wives tales either).

I started to get it on day 4, while my parents were still here. You all know me and the hippie that I am: I started spraying my eyes with colloidal silver right away, and then taking Lavender and Melaleuca oil internally, as well as topically to kill the infection, and fractionated coconut oil to help with the pain. I kept using those four things every 4 hours, and it never developed into the full blown pink eye.

So then we started implementing those 4 things in our area and they helped tremendously, time and time again. The kids at the orphanage, our teen girls home, our workers here where we live-if we caught it right away, that protocol was very effective. The key is catching it right away though. If people wait until day 2, day 3, until it's full blown, we've noticed it can't really be stopped at that point-only managed. This epidemic really is a head scratcher. About 2 weeks later, our girls had the start of it too, but again with those 4 things, we knocked it out in a day.

Needless to say, I am out of colloidal silver now, but have a friend bringing some more next week. If you think about it, please pray for the people of Haiti. It is a nasty, painful thing, and we're just beside ourselves knowing that it's infecting the entire country. We hope and pray it ends soon. And for the friends and teams that are coming in the next few weeks, stop by Whole Foods and or some natural foods store and get some Silver. At least 30 parts per million. It's actually cheapest on vitacost.com (we use the brand Source Naturals).

Also thank you for those who gave towards our friend's nephew's hand injury. We were able to provide him with all of the medicine he initially needed, and in two more days he will be having another surgery. Once again, hospitals in Haiti charge for every little thing: every bandaid, every saline bag, every needle, cotton ball, syringe, etc. Thank you for helping us with that and we will continue to keep you updated on his progress.

After a crazy busy few weeks (doing homeschool on top of everything else!), my sweet husband sent me away for a night by myself (shhh...don't tell my grandpa...he'd be furious if he knew I was alone in Haiti somewhere lol). It was wonderful to rest and recharge. I stayed at a resort abut 20 minutes away. Because we technically live at a resort while we are in Haiti, I have come to feel way more comfortable and identify with the workers and Haitian staff than any elite guests coming for vacation. I found myself wanting to hang out with the groundskeepers, chat with the waiters and waitresses, knowing that even though they have a nice uniform on and have a clean looking appearance, they likely live in poverty across the street from the resort, and get about $4 a day for their hard work.

Everyone at the resort initially always approaches me in French, assuming that because I am white and am in Haiti, I speak French. French is one of the two national languages of Haiti, but only 10-15% actually speak it-the educated. It is the superior language, and so naturally Haitians would think that is the language I speak if I am there visiting. Since living in Haiti, I've come to understand a fair amount of French, but definitely not able to converse back to them. So when the waiters approached me in French, and I responded in Creole, I wish I could adequately describe the pure joy and surprise that comes over their faces. The fact that here I am, a white privileged person, who has chosen to learn the slave language and not the superior language...it is an instant bond with them. They are grateful. They are shocked, but very grateful. The studious person that I am would love to devote time learning and mastering another language, but I guess the missionary in me knows that not speaking French speaks far more loudly than anything I could communicate.

These coming months, Mission of Grace is booked solid back to back with visiting teams from all over the world. We have lots of projects and events underway. We are also so grateful for teams that come because without them, this mission would not be where it is today. We thank you for your continued partnership with us and look forward to updating you more later!

Love you all,
Tass, Sheena, Ellie & Lilah.

PS...it's freaking hot here.

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March Update...

3/13/2017

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What a whirlwind of a week. Some weeks here are good, some are not so good, and most are a mix of the two, but this week was almost beyond comprehension.

It started last Sunday. My husband and I had just come back down the mountain from dropping off food for Katia, the girl with the burnt hand. It broke my heart when we got there and we saw that two of the four children were missing. I asked where the other two daughters were and the mom said "they're off...they're out...I don't know exactly". I attempted to keep my cool and asked, "what do you mean you don't know?". She proceeds to tell me that she didn't think she had enough money or space to take care of them anymore, so she chose to let her youngest son (3) and Katia stay with her, and sent the other ones "away".

Away. That doesn't mean they're loved and cared for in an orphanage somewhere. That means they are on their own, fending for themselves for everything: where they sleep each night, the food they get or don't get; they are on their own. 6 years old and 12 years old. I could have rung her neck right then and there, but then I suppose I would have been no better than her husband who held Katia's hand to the fire.

Two girls I have grown to love and care for...who I spent months with, learning Creole from, making sure they had enough food and water, got them set up in a home, my children literally giving the clothes off of their backs for them....I have no idea where these two precious girls are now. I actually have no idea if they are alive or not. This mother just sends them away.

But that is Haiti: where nothing makes sense and nothing is fair. Nothing makes sense in this country. In the way they live life, the way they think, what they do, how they do it, what has been done to them, the way the government runs-it makes absolute no sense to me, drives me mad, exhausts me, discourages me, and ultimately wears me down.

It was incredible seeing Katia though; she is so beautiful and so strong. Before we came back to Haiti in January we had found Jesus Storybook Bibles in Creole on Amazon so we snagged a bunch and gave her one of them. I sat there reading a story to her, neighbors all listening and watching. I can't help but think that was very likely the very first time anyone has ever read her a story...ever.

After we spent some time there, Tass and I left to begin making preparations to come back to the states. We were flying to the states Tuesday, had a long layover in NYC planned with our girls, and then on to Sacramento in time for a big family wedding.

We went back to our place to get things organized and ready. To be honest, I was ready to leave. The weeks prior had been difficult. This second round has been in some ways easier than the first, and in some ways much harder. Harder because there is a bit more hostility we are sensing from some of the people in our community. We could write an entire book on why that may be the case, but for the sake of time, let me just say that there is more hostility-partially due to the fact that NGO's don't have the best reputation in Haiti. Most people don't have TV's, but they do have radios and through the radio propaganda is spread, and lies get planted, and before you know it, people are chucking wood and stones at us because they think we are trying to bring them back into slavery. Mix that with the dark, very strong, very powerful ties to voodoo, and you've got some major hostility. Some people are so angry at us-and they can't even say why...they just are. Some people hate us. Some attempt to put curses on our team members.

Light and darkness. It's as simple as that.

And I had been feeling it. I had been feeling the darkness for weeks. Last year I honestly didn't give much credence to it. I thought, "ok, you guys do your thing, I'll do mine." But this year has been much different. Our thing is infringing on their's, and their thing is trying to wreak havoc with ours.

Here's the thing: the people of Haiti wouldn't do voodoo if there wasn't actual power in it. They wouldn't be entrenched in this darkness, century after century, if it didn't at least do something. Sure, they can pray to God in the morning if they are sick. But if God does not heal them by noon, they know they can go to the witch doctor and he will make them some sort of potion or spell, and they will be healed. They know if they are angry with someone, they can go pay the witch doctor to put a curse on them and that person will come down with some sort of sickness and die. Curses are very real, and very real in Haiti. There is power in darkness. And my mistake, I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to it last year.

It had been wearing on many of our team members these last few weeks actually (and still is). From the voodoo witch doctor that lives down the street from our orphanage, to a road block being set up in our village now, sticks and stones being thrown, to even a knife being pulled on me while I was walking (I mean, it was a baby knife, not a machete....but still).

The darkness was wearing on me, and I was ready for some America (which of course has its own darkness, but completely more subtle and camouflaged). Sunday was winding down, and Tass and I were just starting to get things planned and organized for our departure, when someone sent me a video and I opened it up to see what it was. Someone had filmed a Haitian man with his hands tied behind his back, his neck had been crushed on the rocks but he was still moving and breathing. I tried to see if I recognized him and before I could get a close look, another man with a machete starting whacking away at his neck and decapitating him. I closed it immediately and didn't finish watching but handed my phone to Tass. He couldn't finish it either and deleted it off my phone. I have never in my life wished so badly that I could unsee something. A whole new level of sickness came over me-a nauseousness I had never felt before.

From that moment on, it was a rapid downhill for me. I spiked a high fever, became extremely dehydrated very quickly, and by the time Monday morning came, I couldn't move and I could barely speak I was so weak.

As out of it as I was, I was thankfully coherent enough to know that I needed two things: I needed an IV in me fast and we needed some intercession. Tass called one of our friends and she came and put an IV in me. It helped some. A Haitian doctor came down and saw me and said I had "a parasite or something". Based on my symptoms, and obviously our access to the internet and our American doctors, they were saying I had Dysentery (there's one classic and obvious sign of Dysentery...please spare me the embarrassment of saying what it is-if you don't know just google it :)

Doctor gave me a few meds, but of course without proper testing, and absolutely no idea what had caused the Dysentery, I didn't feel confident taking the meds until we could figure out what bacteria or parasite was causing this. Plus generally with antibiotics and other meds, I'm just trading one symptom for another as they cause a whole host of side effects for me.

Our flight was planned for the next morning. All I could pray was that I had enough strength to travel to the airport and to New York. That's all I wanted. We contacted my mom and one of my dear friends back in Roseville. Lots of prayers and intercession went up, and within two hours my fever had broken in a huge pile of sweat (just as fast as it had come on), I was able to get up and move, even take a shower. Literally was a miracle. I have never in my life be so sick so fast and then felt better so quickly.

I was still a bit weak and wasn't able to get up the hill and say goodbye to all of the kids at the orphanage which broke my heart, but I was able to get up and move around our room and even help Tass pack a little.

By morning, I was even better. We were planing on leaving at 8:00am, but the Haitians were at the protesting again-starting their roadblocks very early, so we had to beat them before they blocked the road to the airport.

We made it in time, got the airport, got to JFK, got up and down the subway with 7 pieces of luggage, 2 kids, a for the most part out of commission wife, and a very stressed out husband. Got to our hotel, and we all crashed.

The next day, I attempted to do some typical New York stuff with the kids and Tass and try to enjoy our extra long layover (as the girls and I have never been to the city)...

but halfway through I just couldn't make it. I knew I needed to see a doctor. We went to an urgent care and the doctor there ordered a whole panel of blood work and samples. My iron was pretty low, obviously from losing a decent amount of blood,(which I'm sure was contributing to me being so weak). I'm deficient in some areas (which I'm sure all four of us are), and they prescribed me some different medications (which of course I will replace with EO's). Still waiting on the longer test results to come back, which should be back by today.

We flew back to Sacramento a few days ago and made it just in time for a big family wedding over the weekend. It was nice to see so many, although I wish I had had more energy. I'm slowly starting to get my energy back, and one of the biggest things I'm grateful for is just the ability to think clearly. Something comes over me in Haiti and I literally can't think straight. It is the strangest thing. Cloudy, foggy, tired, inarticulate, hot, sweaty, exhausted. I just can't think very well there. I am grateful to feel like myself again and to feel capable of putting together somewhat cohesive sentences.

Over the next few weeks our family plans to rest, recuperate, regain some strength and momentum, and head back to Haiti early April. I know, I know. People think we are crazy. Maybe we are. My grandfather has tried multiple times to bribe me with a large sum of money and a promise never to return to Haiti again. But we can't ignore our family's calling. We can't. We are called to serve there. I know it. I know it with every fiber in my being. Sometimes I wish I didn't know it! Ha. Do we need to be even more prepared and equipped this time? For sure. We plan on doing so while we are here these next few weeks. Yes there is much darkness there, but we are carrying the light and darkness cannot overpower light. The week before all this started we had a team with us from Virginia and North Carolina. The team leader is a Dr of psychology and a pastor. He spoke a brief but powerful message the Sunday he was here, simply saying that our job as christians in Haiti is to be like lampposts and to punch holes in the darkness. As more lamps are lit, and more lamps are brought, the light will increase, and the darkness will diminish. That is why we are going back.

Thank you to the hundreds of you who prayed for me Sunday and Monday. I am forever grateful, and I absolutely know it's what got me on the plane Tuesday. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don't even know many of you who prayed, so those that did...please give them my love and gratitude.

We of course would love to see many of you while we're home. Just shoot Tass or myself a text and we will try to make it happen.

Love you all,
Sheena & Family

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February Update

3/13/2017

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While I’m sure this can be said of virtually every country, Haiti is a very unique place. There is a blending of so many different cultures mixed with the constant tension of the poor trying to get out of their poverty and the rich and powerful constantly undermining their ability to do so. Practically every developed nation in the world has been trying to help Haiti get out of this seemingly endless cycle since the earthquake in 2010, and many for long before that. So what is the problem, what is the solution, and what gives us the audacity to think we have the ability to do anything significant in this process?

Well there are many problems, and therefore many solutions that will have to take place gradually, likely over many years. The one thing I’m pretty confident of is that the problems will not be solved or resolved by Americans or any other foreign person or organization. The answer lies within the Haitian people, and predominantly with the next generation. The hope for any nation is always in the next generation that will eventually ascend to the places of prominence and leadership. And so that is why we are here and why we think we can help make a difference in Haiti. That is the whole purpose and focus of Mission of Grace, to raise up leaders for the next generation that will lead with conviction and morals and love and compassion. We are honored to be able to play a small roll in that process.

Over this past month we have been very intentional in doing things that will help develop our young people into the leaders we hope and pray they will become. Sheena took the teen girls on a field trip to a museum not far from us that chronicles the origins and history of Haiti. While we knew a little bit about Haiti being a French slave colony and the war for their independence, there were quite a few details we didn’t know. The girls actually knew very little about their history as well and Sheena was very glad to be able to help expose them to that. Weekly yoga classes and teachings are continuing to go well, and Sheena has developed a sweet bond with many of the girls.

For Valentines' Day we gave them each a necklace and a love letter filled with Scripture verses of what their Heavenly Father has to say about them. We want them to know that they are deeply love, cherished, clothed in righteousness, and uniquely special.

February also brought our orphanage a few more children, which hasn't happened in quite some time. We do our very best to attempt to keep families together and help support them as they raise their children: not raise them for them. But one day after church, a man had come far down the mountain with his three children. He had been trying his best to take care of them ever since the mother passed away a few months ago, but the younger ones were getting more and more malnourished with each passing day. The father was also disabled. We could tell if we didn't take them these children would surely die. One of the babies, only 10 months old, weighs about 6 pounds. We got them settled and named them Lilly, Hope, and Grace.

Ellie and Lilah pretty much have a singular focus here and that is the babies house at the orphanage. While they have specifically gravitated towards 2 or 3 of the babies, we have encouraged them to be intentional in spending time with many or all of them (we have about 80 children in our direct care). It’s really amazing to watch them play with and love on these kids and see how the kids respond. Any time only one of our kids is at the orphanage all the babies are asking where the other one is. Ellie is teaching them English, which may seem like a small thing but could actually be one of the greatest gifts they could ever receive. The ability to speak english is highly valued in Haiti.

The chickenpox outbreak that has plagued the orphanage these last two months has finally started to dwindle down to just a few kids who are thankfully now recovering. While we do have a Haitian doctor, medical clinic, and American nurse with us, Sheena constantly finds herself being the one the people come to for their medical needs. Especially in the compound where we live (around 50-60 people at any given time), the people know that if they have an issue or ailment, Sheena will do her best to find them a remedy.

I have very much enjoyed being back in the role of working with the short term teams that come to serve here at Mission of Grace. It’s really fun getting to reconnect with people and teams that were here last year and building on the friendships that were started back then. I also really love when new people come to Mission of Grace for the first time. I love getting to share with them how the mission has grown over the past 6 years and what the vision is for the future. The work, the vision, and the excitement is contagious. It’s exciting to be a part of and even more exciting to see other people catch the vision and want to be more involved. If you have ever considered coming to serve in Haiti or want to see first hand what we are doing at Mission of Grace, please get in touch with me. I would love to bring you down here.

Teams play such a vital role in being able to continue to serve down here and in the growth of the Mission. Over the past couple of months our teams have helped in moving the soup kitchen and expanding it’s capacity to serve. We now feed on average 220 people a day, up from 100 just a month ago. We’ve had doctors and nurses come to lend their expertise on multiple medical cases and even helped deliver a baby. They’ve purchased and given out over 500 pounds of food to needy families in the community. And above all they have spent time and loved on our people in ways that our staff does not always have the time or ability to do. Teaching our teen girls how to sew, teaching our young men carpentry skills, giving massages to our elderly, little things to them but life changing things for our people.

It's been a great couple of months here so far. Next month, we will briefly return home for a family wedding. We plan to spend time with family and friends, finish up paperwork for our non profit status, and do a few side jobs to help get us back to Haiti in April. Once we return to Haiti, our hope is that we can remain here until the end of August.

While we are home, we will be collecting supplies to bring back. One practical need that we find over and over again is the need for working cell phones. If you go to buy a phone at a store here, there is no guarantee that it will work. As we are training up leaders and hiring more Haitian staff as the mission expands, the need for good working cell phones is huge. If any of you have previously used, but in good condition, cell phones that you are no longer using, we would be happy to take them off your hands. Androids seems to work best in this country (as long as they are unlocked). iPhones have a trickier time, but are not impossible. If you have any cell phones you would like to donate, please get in touch with either Sheena or myself. It would be a great blessing to be able to bring back 20-30 working cell phones.

Many of you have been such an important part of keeping us going on this journey. We would not be able to be here without your support, and many of the incredible things we have shared would not have happened if we had not been here. Not because we are anything special, but just because we are here. Thank you for giving to make a difference in the lives of the people of Haiti. It really is making a difference and we are so grateful for your support because it is impacting us and our children and our future as much as it is impacting the lives of those we are here to serve. And so from the bottom of our hearts we say thank you.

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New beginnings!

1/27/2017

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I can't believe we are already a few weeks in to our term here (however long that may be). The days always seem to run together in Haiti. Tass and I were both so surprised how easy it was for our family to get back into the swing of things; it's almost as if we never left.

As per usual now, my parents accompanied us on our move back here, bringing along my brother this time. After a few wonderful days when them we parted ways. Before their feet even touched California, they were blowing up our phones saying how they wanted to come back. It's true: there's just something about this place that if you come once...there's this draw and pull to return.

There have been some significant changes while we've been away. There is more organization and structure this time, which we love. Haiti seems to always be in a state of chaos so it is difficult to implement change-especially structure. But we are pleased that 2017 is starting off really well here in Carries.

There is one temporary change that was not so welcome, but one that I do understand: because of the arrest of a Haitian politician on 10 year old cocaine trafficking charges, the riot and protests that it caused in Jeremie, Haiti has caused our leaders here to tighten our security measures. In Jeremie, a group of Haitians made it very clear that any Americans are extremely unwelcome and if they see any, they will be killed. Now, our village is hours away and most everyone in Carries knows us and welcomes us. But still, until the chaos dies down a bit, we are not permitted to go walking around the community as we did last year. I miss wandering from house to house checking in on our friends and seeing how they are all doing, but again, hopefully in a few weeks we can resume doing that.

For now, our focus is working in the Mission-which consists of the orphanage (babies' home, big kids' home, and teen girls' home), the school, the men's professional home, the medical clinic, and the elderly home.

While we were gone, the single mom's home somewhat fizzled out which saddens me. There was no one to take it and run with it. Now there is just one mom there with her 2 children, but she seems to be doing well.

This year, our leaders at Mission of Grace asked me to take on the teen girls' home. As of right now, they go to school and come home. We provide their every day needs such as food and water, clothes and shelter, but there is not much life in their lives. There's nothing for them to get excited about and there's a bit of sadness in most of them. I have been asked to organize field trips, projects, activities, and just get them overall excited about living.

I started a weekly yoga class with them which they LOVE. We'll be doing field trips once a month to various parts of Haiti to learn about their history and culture. I will learn too :) I'll also be teaching music classes with them, as well as the little children.

Beyond activities and fun, I know they really need a mentor and listening ear. However they see me (a big sis, aunt, many call me "mom")...I know my life speaks far more than my words ever will. I know they are watching and seeing every interaction I have with my husband, my own children, with my co-workers here, etc. I can tell them all I want to be great students, to speak kindly, to be selfless, to be honest (and I do)...but what I show them far outweighs what I could ever say. I am honored Miss Kim and Miss Lynn asked me to be an integral part of their lives this year.

Another area they've given me to oversee is the social media accounts for Mission of Grace and Oceanview (where we live), which I am happy to do. If you do have facebook or instagram and haven't found us on there yet, please head over to our pages and give us a like! You can see and keep up with the daily happenings here.

Tass has dove head first back into directing teams that come. This cooler season of Haiti (January-March) is when it is busiest with people visiting and wanting to serve in this organization. He continues to do all the pre-trip communicating (as he did when we were in the states), and then coordinates ongoing projects, mission needs, supply needs, airport pickups, meals, and just the many day to day responsibilities of overseeing teams that come. It's far much too me to handle, and he does it so well and so gracefully.

This week, Tass' main project has been getting our soup kitchen moved to a larger location. Our soup kitchen feeds about 100 people in our community per day that would otherwise not eat. It had been running 5 days a week, leaving people very hungry on the weekends. Recently though, funding came in to where we could open it 7 days a week which is fantastic. New pots and pans were purchased, we hired one more cook, and spent a few days cleaning up and painting the new location. It will be up and running very shortly!

Our former soup kitchen location...

Our new location...

With indoor cooking!

Our girls are both doing wonderfully. Krista, a 19 year old gal we snatched up from home in Roseville is overseeing their schooling for the next few months so Tass and I can continue to be involved in our charges here. She is doing an impeccable job, and is so resourceful and creative. I tell her daily, but I don't think she'll ever know how grateful we are that she decided to come and be such a huge help to our family. Every body plays such a vital role in this organization here and everyone is needed to keep if flowing properly. Without her, Tass and I would not be able to do what we do here. We are very thankful.

A team from Roseville comes in just a few weeks which is always fun to have home come. Bob Hasty, the man responsible for dragging me to Haiti in the first place will be bringing that team and we are very much looking forward to their arrival.

As always, if you are interested in coming and seeing what takes place here, please email Tass or myself. With a good itinerary, you can get to Haiti in about 9 hours from California (1.5 hours from Miami). It definitely feels like a whole world away, but it's quite accessible. We always need the help and expertise of various fields: doctors, nurses, construction workers, electricians, moms, dads, sports coaches, artists, musicians, whatever your talent or gifting: it can most definitely be used here.

And for those that can't make it, we thank you for sending your support (prayers, finances, good vibes, juju) so that we can continue doing the work we are doing. We appreciate each and every one of you!

Until next time,
Tass, Sheena, Ellie & Lilah Souza

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Bethsaika...a last minute trip to Haiti.

8/26/2016

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Sweet sweet Bethsaika. She fiercely fought for her life, year after year. And when she was too tired to fight, others fought for her. In the almost 3 years that I have known and loved her, she was in and out hospitals countless times...each time not knowing if it would be her last.

Shortly after we moved back to Roseville in June, I got a call that she was back in the hospital again. Her arteries were just too narrowed and damaged and she had swollen up again, not able to pass any fluids. She wasn't able to eat or drink. My parents asked me if I wanted them to send me back out there to be with her. Of course I wanted to go, but for some reason felt like it wasn't the right time. I said no, and a week later, she was released from the hospital, back home again, doing much better.

Weeks went by, and she and I face timed and touched base often...until last week, I got word that again she was back in the hospital. I woke up on a Monday morning and just knew I needed to get out there this time. She was no worse off than she'd been before, but something in me told me to go. I called my parents and asked if my mom wanted to go out there with me. My dad jumped online and within hours, he had booked me, my mom, and Ellie plane tickets using points he had, and we left that Thursday.

I desperately wanted to surprise her and everyone else, but as time passed, she got worse and worse. At the risk of exciting her heart more and possibly over-exciting her, I did feel like I had to tell her I was coming...with a chance that it might help her hang on. I let her know Wednesday that I would be there in a few days, and with labored breathing and all the strength she could muster she said in Creole, "Ok mom, I am waiting for you".

The ride into Carries from the airport was unlike any other. There were several car accidents that day. One where 17 people had died. We passed bloody, mangled, dead bodies laying in the street. One young girl was trapped inside a completely smashed car. There was absolutely no way to get her out and so people just stood there and watched as she baked in the hot car. It was so sad.

People grabbed whatever tree branches they could find to try and cover up the bodies. Thankfully, Ellie was asleep after being up all night on a red eye, and she didn't have to witness any of it. But the images are forever ingrained in my mind.

We got to the hospital the next morning and Bethsaika was by far, the sickest child in that small, crammed pediatric room. We walked in, and she was so very weak. When she saw me though, she mustered the biggest smile she could (which wasn't very big), but I knew she knew who I was and that she was happy to see us.

She wasn't able to talk much, and she wasn't able to eat or drink. I just sat beside her, wiping the sweat off her face, kissing her and hugging her.

The room was pretty hot and stuffy with no air-conditioning at this particular General Hospital so my mom sent our driver to go buy as many bags of ice as he could. He came back with bags and bags and we passed them out to all of the families in the room.

I took turns with my mom, Ellie, and a friend who had come. We all sat beside her and told her how much we love her. Ellie put a little bracelet on her that she had made.

We drove back home to Oceanview, and then my mother and I returned to the hospital again the next day.

When we arrived, I was pleased to see that she was sitting up and eating! She had way more energy and was very alert and responsive (although I had a feeling what this was though). I face-timed Tass and Lilah so she could see them.

I asked Bethsaika if there was anything in the world she wanted. She responded with "chocolate". My mother just so happened to have one protein bar in her purse and it happened to be chocolate. I broke it up in tiny little pieces and fed it to her.

After about an hour of her responding and interacting, her body was exhausted. She became very tired, and so I just laid next to her and kept rubbing her with a washcloth and ice.

I knew in my spirit that I needed to speak to her heart and tell her what I felt like she was waiting to hear.

This is one of those moments where I'm incredibly thankful I believe in a God who is bigger than me. I left Haiti being maybe 25-30% Creole speaking....but it was always so exhausting and draining for my brain.

Over the next hour with Bethsaika, something took over my mind, and I can't even explain it, but I was able to fully communicate to her every single thing that I wanted to. It flowed, and I kept going and going. I don't even know how.

I asked her if she remembered the first time we met, and we reminisced about how shy and timid she was around me. I told her that from the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was a very special girl. I talked about the first 4 days of seeing her and how she kept her distance from me. But after that 4th day and with me continuing to pursue her, she finally warmed up to me, came over to me, stayed by my side, and then never seemed to want to let go.

I told her that I know she has fought hard for a very long time and that she was in a lot of pain. I could see fear in her eyes, and I told her that she doesn't need to be afraid, and that if she wants to go, she can go. I said I know I will get to see you again, and that she will see Tass and Ellie and Lilah and Miss Kim again. I said, "if you want to stay and keep fighting, that's fine, but if you want to rest and go be with Jesus, that is ok too". I asked her what she wanted, and she said she wanted to die. I kept trying my best to reassure her over and over again that she didn't need to be afraid, and that it was ok...she could go. We cried, as I kept wiping her down, and I could feel her heart working so hard to where every beat shook her entire body. She struggled to breathe as her lungs were filling up with fluid, and all I could pray was "God please take her". I didn't even pray for a miracle this time. Seeing someone, let alone a child, suffer like that...it may sound harsh to pray for someone to die, but it felt like the most merciful thing I could do.

The time came for us to go, I told her I loved her and that I will see her again. The last clear thing she said to us was, "Thank you". She chose to say it in English instead of Creole.

I hugged her mother and told her that she is a good mom. She has had to watch her child suffer year after year, and she is always the one who takes her to the hospital, stays with her, sleeps in a plastic chair for weeks on end, goes without food, and does her best to try and stay on top of the plethora of medications Bethsaika was given. I sometimes find it weird that she too calls me Mommy Sheena, but I think it's an acknowledgment that I love her daughter as well and she can see that and is grateful.

We left the hospital, and got to spend a day with all of the people in the village and at the orphanage which was like water to my soul. I went and checked on Bethsaika's little brother several times, and gave him a report of how she was doing. He hadn't eaten in quite a while so we gave him all that we had brought.

We left early the next morning. It was a very quick trip.

Bethsaika's mom sent me a voice message asking if we had left already and arrived home. Once I got it, I told her that yes we had arrived home (early early Wednesday morning).

After a few hours sleep, I woke up in my own bed Wednesday, frustrated and torn apart that she was suffering so so much. I begged God to take her that day. No more. I just wanted her suffering to end.

That night, Tass came home from work, and we sat down to talk about my trip. My phone was turned face down, as I don't like any distractions when I'm talking with someone. I told him about the trip, and for some reason in the middle of my sentence reached for my phone, turned it over, and saw a message that was 13 minutes old:

"She's dead."

Relief. Disbelief. Sadness. Joy. Heartache and so much more.

Tass and I sobbed there in the kitchen. We called the girls over a little later and told them. We stood in the kitchen, and my heart broke for her family...her little brother. I asked Tass to pray for him.

Ellie and Lilah have been so so sweet, hugging and kissing us so much these last 24 hours and making sure I eat. Ellie, our 9 year old, has been crying but because of a different reason. She told me last night that although she didn't have as strong of connection with Bethsaika as I had, she has a strong connection with another little girl, and she broke down sobbing because she said, "Mom I can't imagine something happening to ____ and how you must feel right now".

Please pray for the community of Carries (Car-ee-es). Bethsaika (Bet-siy-kuh) was known and beloved by everyone and even though she was 13, she was called "bebe" (baby) because she was so tiny. If you asked anyone where bebe was, they knew exactly who you were talking about.

Bebe....I think about our reunion one day and how sweet it will be. But I am sad that it will not be the next time I return to Haiti...it will be a little longer ways away. I am so happy that your body is virus free, disease free, pain free, that you can breathe and dance and walk and sing. You forever changed my life, my family's life, and my children's lives. Thank you. I love you so much, and I hope, I hope you knew just how much you were loved.

'Til I see you again.

xxoo

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The end but not the end...

7/8/2016

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The end but not the end...

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We had a very busy last few weeks in Haiti with many overlapping visiting teams, while trying to pack up our home and fight off infections and 105 degree fevers that 3 out of 4 of us were hit with. It was chaotic and stressful and also very sad. Our daughters were incredibly bummed to have lost so much time at the orphanage due to the fact that they had to remain in bed.

Thankfully, about 2 days before we had to leave, most all of us were on the mend and we could spend some time with all of the kiddos.

Packing up our home was difficult-not knowing exactly when we will be back. However, we decided to leave most of our things behind. Even though we only had 220 square feet of "personal" space these last 6 months, it was still our home and we made some amazing memories. That time a crab crawled up through the sink and freaked me out, or the time I had just finished coloring my roots and stepped in to the shower to discover we had no more water. The times the girls wanted to sleep on the floor, because...that's the Haitian way. The time I stitched up a guy on our little dining room table. The times our ugly large ratmates who lived above us would fight with each other late at night. The nights where the pain and heartbreak of the day was so overwhelming all we could do was pray...and pour ourselves a nightcap. The times we had sick little kids come stay with us as we scoured the home, turned it upside down to search for any medicine we had left. It was small. We got on each other's nerves-but we did it. One of the many things I've learned these last 6 months is that really...anyone can do anything. You may think you can't do something-but with some time, patience, and perseverance-anything can be done. You are stronger and more capable than you think. We will miss this little bungalow.

The day before we left started the sad, long, tearful goodbyes. You never really know just how much of an impact you've made, especially with the language barrier, until it's time to say goodbye.

Children living at an orphanage have all sorts of issues. There's no way to sugar coat that. They were either abandoned by their parents, have no parents at all, or had their parents kick the crap out of them because they kept crying for food and the parents no longer wanted to hear them cry. Sick babies, special needs kids, malnourished kids...all of that mixed together now living in one place...there are bound to be some issues. For the most part though, the children are kind and loving. They love to come up to you and sit on your lap, play with your hair, ask to be carried around, and generally want to be with you. There are a few, though, that play hard ball. They'll tell you they don't want you there, run away from you, avoid you and all eye contact, despite your many attempts. And that's ok. We get it. There's some seriously wounded kids here.

What surprised us the most though, is that these handful of kids, who seemingly wanted nothing to do with us while we were there, were the ones that cried the most when we left. The day we left, I had one little 8 year old boy, hyperventilating in my lap. The one who never showed any emotion or interest in hanging with us was now struggling to breathe as we said goodbye. There was one sweet, but very difficult teenager, sobbing in Tass' arms. Many kids were crying, but we were definitely shocked to see who had the most difficult time with us leaving.

The morning of our flight, as we were packing up last minute things, I brought out our first suitcase and set it on our porch. That started it. Slowly, one by one, the staff and people who we lived with, started to congregate around the vehicle that was taking us to the airport. Everyone. The groundkeepers, the barman, the housekeepers, the servers, the cooks, the drivers, the manager of the resort, they all slowly and somberly made their way to the vehicle and just sat there and waited. The didn't say anything, they just sat there with their heads down. It was the saddest and sweetest thing I have ever seen. In our 6 months there, we've seen a lot of people come and go, but never, had any of them had a send off like that. I hugged the woman who cleaned our room every day and thanked her yet again as she cried. I hugged the 50 year old man who squeezed fresh juice for our family every morning as he teared up. Our family is not perfect by any means, but I can say with 100% truth in my heart that I gave all I had to these people every day. When I didn't feel like smiling because I was so tired, I did it anyway and asked how their families were doing. When I didn't feel like I could converse in another language a minute longer at the end of a long day, I forced myself to anyway. I wanted to make sure these people knew they were important, valued, and appreciated. If they had a headache, I would get them medicine. If their kids had to go to the hospital, I would make sure we tipped them extra that week. For me personally, I viewed my time with the resort staff just as important as I did with the kids at the orphanage or in the community. These people are the community too. They are the community kids' parents. These workers have families, some very far away, whom they only see once every 10 days or so. They work tirelessly, day in and day out, to serve us and other guests, so they can provide food for their families. Not internet, not shopping sprees, not swim lessons or ballet lessons, not vacations; they work so hard so that they can just provide food. I made sure that I showed them appreciation every chance I got. They will be greatly missed.

In the 15 years that I have known my husband, he has really only ever cried concerning one thing and that is his grandfather. He loved his grandfather very much, and often I would joke that even if I died, he wouldn't cry nearly as much as he cries when talking about his grandfather ;) But those last two days, he was a wreck. The car ride to the airport was...the only word I can think of is brutal. We all cried the entire drive to Port-au-Prince. Our driver was probably convinced we were nuts because every Haitian has one dream-and that is to leave Haiti. The place where they think God only visits maybe once a year. Every Haitian has this one common goal: to leave. They desire to go to America-a place where they think God visits every day. And here we were, sobbing because we were leaving their seemingly God-forsaken country.

Our oldest daughter, Ellie (8), probably had the hardest time leaving. The plane ride to Miami was just as bad. What made it worse for me was seeing everyone else's reactions as we left. The week before we left, I was actually getting excited about coming home. I was ready for some easy. I was ready for the convenience of running to Rite Aid if we ran out of medicine. The melancholy in me was ready for some alone time. Although sad about leaving, I was definitely looking forward to being home. But after we saw everyone else's reactions, and how much we meant to them, it was stunning and shocking and just made it that much more difficult to leave.

We landed in Miami in the evening, checked in to our hotel, and then headed to get some food. Now, more than anything else that we missed while being gone, was none other than food. We, and the other long term Americans that we lived with, every day we would sit and daydream about all the wonderful options and variety of food that America has. Not that our food in Haiti is bad; quite the contrary-it's delicious. We have some of the best cooks in Haiti. But it's the same thing over and over, every single day. The kids would fantasize about Pinkberry and Chipotle. We did a lot of "pretending" of what we were eating each day.

Now came the time where our fantasies were about to become reality. We ordered some yummy food, and after months of looking forward to this moment, when the server brought out the food, Ellie couldn't eat it. She was so depressed about leaving Haiti that she couldn't even touch her bowl of clam chowder. Then, the tears came even more as she realized the dilemma she was in and said, "But Mom, I don't want to waste it...this cost FIVE DOLLARS!". Tass and I both looked at each other, held back tears, and told her just how proud of her we are. The way she thinks is differently now. I love her heart, and the way that it is continuing to expand and grow, beyond herself.

Lilah....Lilah is not quite there....yet. She beats to her own drum and is excited to stay or go, wherever we go, she's down for anything.

My parents picked us up in San Francisco last week and we have been doing our best to get re-acclamated to Californian life. Tass is taking any and all the work he can get. Tonight, he is headed out to Yuba City to run sound for local artist Lisa Daggs. He is also working with our long time friend and best man at our wedding, doing various audio visual installs. We are hoping and praying for steady work for him.

For me, while we were gone, I had secured a short term substitute music teacher for most of my students, with everyone's intentions of resuming lessons with me upon our return. But plans change, people move on, they bond with a new teacher, or want to try a new activity all together. Out of my 18 previous students, 2 are returning to me. While I am sad and disappointed, I do understand. I understand that with families not knowing our traveling plans and future lifestyle, sometimes it's best to part ways. I love them all and will miss them all greatly.

It does leave me incredibly bored though. It's only been a week and I am bored out of my mind. No one is dying, no babies are being abandoned, nobody is sick and needing to be rushed to the hospital...it's quite a different feeling to go from being needed every minute of the day, to a place where everyone has their own self sustaining life that doesn't really require our help at all. I am not saying there is not purpose or meaning to living here...I know there is. But it is just so different than living in emergency mode, as we have been the last six months.

I will likely take some more online medical classes like I did last year. Stanford University offers many free online classes and has been a great resource to me. I'm not going for another degree, it is the knowledge that I appreciate having. That is what is beneficial in a place like Haiti.

Our family will also continue learning Creole, as well as expanding to French. Creole is spoken and understood by everyone, but French is the language that is taught in the schools-so if you are lucky enough to afford school, you are taught how to read and write French. Only about 10-20% of the population speak French. However, because we live at a working resort, most everything is in French, to cater to the upper class Haitians. Our Creole is pretty good, but I found myself many times wishing I had taken the time to learn French! I plan on making that one of our main focuses while we are back in the states. Our neighbor is a French teacher so we will hopefully we working out some sort of exchange with music lessons.

Another, slightly unexpected adjustment, has been the food here. For the last six months, we have eaten everything fresh for every meal of the day. Fresh fruit, fresh vegetables, fresh juice, etc. If you wanted meat for dinner...great...you go out and kill it that day. Fresh eggs, even fresh dessert. Coming back to American food with all of the preservatives and sodium has had us walking around all week feeling legitimately drugged. Hopefully our systems will acclimate soon.

Truth be told, I think we are all suffering from a mix of depression, probably a little PTSD, and an overwhelming feeling of feeling lost. I refuse to go to the grocery store and shop until every single thing from our refrigerator has been consumed. It doesn't matter that I can't really make a decent meal out of grapes, lemons and some eggs. But until our fridge is empty, I just can't bring myself to go back to the grocery store.

Everyone inevitably asks us what our future plans are and if we're going back. Our answer? Absolutely! The when is somewhat uncertain. Our goal and plan is to return again in January for another 6 month term, but truthfully we all don't know if we can wait that long. We are excited to return and pick up where we left off and to hopefully make even more progress than we did the last round.

Tass and I are both continuing to serve Mission of Grace and Ocean View remotely while we are here. Tass is still busy coordinating teams and projects and thankfully it's actually a bit easier to communicate with teams stateside because we have working US numbers again. We stay closely in touch with the directors in Haiti through the God-sent app...Voxer. We also bought a few people smart phones before we left Haiti, installed Voxer and Whatsapp for them and we will continue to buy and send them data and minutes every month so that we can be apprised of situations and people. It's not the same thing as being there, but it's the next best thing. Plus, continuing to write and speak in Creole will hopefully help us maintain the portion of the language that we did learn.

We want to again thank each and everyone of you for your love, prayers, and financial support you have given to our family and the work that we are doing in Carries, Haiti. We could not have done this without you and you are just as much a part of this as we are. The times where I didn't think I could make it one more day, one of you sent me an encouraging and inspiring note. The times where we were sicker than dogs, and our kids had such high fevers and our medicine had run out, you fervently prayed and lifted us up. The times where we didn't have enough money to meet yet another emergent need, you sacrificially gave. We are so thankful for each and every one of you, and we look forward to seeing you all and spending time with you before we head back out to our second home!

All our love,
Tass, Sheena, Ellie & Lilah

Checking on baby Marvens before we left. He is doing so much better and has learned to latch on and eat!

Sweet sweet Bethsaika. Painful goodbyes.

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May/June 2016

6/1/2016

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What a ride this has been so far. We are approaching our final weeks here in Haiti and we all could not be more sad. Truth be told, I did not expect to feel like this at all, but a shift started happening in my heart about a month ago. There is just still so much to do here, so many people to love, and so much help that is needed.

I post a few pictures a week on social media, highlighting a child or family’s story. Most of them are gut wrenching and difficult to write about and comprehend, but the reality is that those stories and moments happen every single day here-several times a day. There are so many that I have not shared simply from the fact that we are exhausted and cannot formulate the words.

The ones that we have shared, I want to thank those back home who gave specifically for those needs: hospital bills, medication, food, baby formula, supplies, etc. We have lost some monthly supporters during our 6 months here and so it has been a little difficult to cover these things ourselves. We so appreciate those who have graciously trusted us and given to meet these immediate and critical needs. Thank you. From the families that don’t have a voice here, and who thank us every time they see us. Thank YOU.

The baby we stumbled upon who hadn't eaten in 3 weeks.

Thank you friends who responded quickly and helped us!

I'd like to brag on my husband for a bit. He already shared a little of this story but I’d like to share more. The day before Mother’s Day, I was making my rounds and visiting houses in the village. I came to check on a little 13 year old girl, who I’ve known for over 2 years now. She was living at the orphanage when I first came to Haiti by myself. She has a number of medical issues, one of them being a previously undiagnosed heart condition. She has always been extremely thin. She is probably one of the skinniest kids in our village. As a 13 year old now, she weighs maybe 40 pounds. I check on her frequently, to make sure she’s taking her medication, and making sure she and her family have adequate food. One of the biggest challenges for families here is that there are hardly any jobs available. It is not that they are unwilling to work, it is just so difficult to find work. A lot of times, women will wind up working at the local brothel. They get paid $2 for sex. Then they take that money and buy food for their families. Tass, our friend Cullen, and I rack our brains daily on how to come up with jobs for these people.

For Bethsaika (Bet-sye-kuh), the 13 year old, Tass and I have supported her and her family for quite some time now. I know the mom does what she can, but oftentimes it is not enough. It had been a couple days since I had seen her, and so about a month ago I was on my way to visit her. When I got to her house, the neighbors told me that she was not there. Bethsaika had taken a turn for the worse the day before and the mom took her to a hospital. The doctor said she needed an EKG test done about 2 hours away. When the mom realized she could not afford the test, as a last ditch effort to save her daughter’s life, she took her to a voodoo/Catholic/Christian “worship” center where she had to pay all that she had to have this priest pray for her all day. I arrived at her house that day…when she had taken Bethsaika to the worship place at the next town over. The neighbors told me she would be back later that night. We went back, and when I found her, her teeny tiny little body was puffy and swollen from her head to her toes. I am no doctor, but I thought that was a really bad sign. She was struggling to breathe. She couldn’t stand. She just sat there gasping for air, and the mom seemed hopeless, as the worship place she had just paid for had not worked. Now she was just waiting to die.

I facetimed my mom and let her examine this precious child via video. It was a Saturday and no hospitals in our area were open. Most hospitals in Haiti close on the weekends. Don’t ask me why. Nothing makes sense in this country. As my mom got a look at her, she told me that this child’s lungs were filling up with fluid and that she was literally drowning from the inside. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more helpless in my life. I had my arms around this weak, stone-faced child, gasping for her every breath. My mom feeling helpless too, said, “can you ask her if it’s ok if I pray for her right now." I asked Bethsaika, and she let out this agonizing wail, and then just started weeping. She knew she was dying. My mom prayed for her, in between sobbing herself, and after hugging and kissing her, I went back to our home and jumped online and searched for ANY hospital in Haiti that might be open on weekends. Our two ministry leaders were out of the country at the time, but they had empowered us to make decisions and so we did not hesitate to do all that was necessary for this girl. I told my husband we’ve got to get her to a hospital. I found a hospital in Port-au-Prince that said they were open on the weekends. It was a Haitian hospital funded by Americans with American doctors and nurses doing rotations among the Haitian staff. We decided if she made it through the night we would take her first thing in the morning.

My husband woke up early, went and picked up Bethsaika and her mom while I stayed with our girls here. I desperately wanted to go but I knew both of us couldn’t be gone, and the road situation in Port-au-Prince was dangerous. In addition to a major bridge collapsing causing backed up traffic for hours, the Haitans were also at it again with the protesting and roadblocks. There was a very good chance we could have gotten stuck in the city for who knows how long. I knew Tass had to be the one to go.

They made it to the city and found the hospital. My husband said there were dozens of Haitian standing at the gate asking to be let in, crying in pain and agony. Because he is white though, they let he and Bethsaika in right away. It is a very sad reality of the way things run here. They admitted her to the pediatric ward, which was nothing more than a small portable building packed full of kids. They got her on oxygen and started doing their tests. Once they realized she needed an EKG they told us there were only 2 EKG machines in all of Port-au-Prince and they didn’t have the machine at the moment. We had to wait a couple of days for our turn with the machine, and once we got the all clear, they took her by ambulance to get the test done.

A few days later we got the results which said she has pulmonary hypertension: a very treatable heart and lung condition with proper medication. The only problem was that she had gone so long with this, undiagnosed, that the damage to her arteries was too severe. Her heart was trying to pump the blood but the arteries were too narrowed and damaged. Her heart was now enlarged and she was in heart failure. Once they realized all of this, they started her on Viagra, believe it or not, because Viagra works at opening up the narrowed arteries.

After about a week of her being in the hospital, we got word that the medicine was not working as well as it should and that she was going into a rapid decline. I knew I had to go see her, if anything, to say goodbye. I just wanted her suffering to end-whether if that was by God doing a miracle in her life, or by God taking her home. She has suffered too much and for so long, all I could do was pray that it ended. Tass and I decided to go the next day together to see her. It was the same day Tass’ parents had flown in so someone needed to go to the airport to pick them up anyway. We got up at 4:00 am, and set out before all the roadblocks and protestors could start.

About 20 minutes from our home, we encountered a large semi turned sideways blocking the entire road. It had been robbed right before we got there, then turned sideways, and then set on fire. I gotta say, it was one of the smartest roadblocks I’d ever seen. Usually they will just put tires on the ground and light those on fire so no one can pass; but an entire semi? The protestors were upping their game. Our driver saw one tiny little opening between the semi and a house that we could maybe squeeze by. I folded the car’s mirrors in, and with a silent prayer, asked God to help us fit. Literally a centimeter more and we wouldn’t have made it passed. No car behind us could fit through. We were the only ones who made it. I knew God wanted us to go see this little girl.

What normally should take about an hour to get through the city, took about 4, with all of the traffic from the collapsed bridge. We off-roaded a little bit, went through some sketchy areas, but eventually made it to the hospital. She was sleeping when we arrived. I saw the look of exhaustion on her mother, as she had been sleeping in a plastic chair, upright, for the past week. In Haiti, you aren’t provided your own nurse-not even your own bed sheets. You have to bring everything. The mother knew this, and was prepared, but still-she looked so exhausted. I took a look around the pediatric room, and every mother in there was exhausted. About a dozen kids and babies crammed into one portable, with a chair for the mom or relative helping to take care of them. I looked around the room: in one direction some young kids laid in comas. They were beaten up pretty badly. I looked in the other direction and saw a baby whose intestines were on the outside of his body. Another baby’s head was three times the size of his body. The room felt hopeless. It was a very sad room.

When Bethsaika woke up and realized we had come I will never forget the smile she made. It was weak, but I could see the hope that came across her face. I fed her, held her, and savored the time with her, not knowing if it would be our last.

Ellie, our 8 year old, the night before, said she wanted to give up her tablet full of games and movies so Bethsaika had something to do in the hospital. Tass pulled it out and gave it to her but she was too weak to hold it, so we held it up as she put on Beauty and the Beast. The opening song played, “Bonjour, bonjour, bonjour bonjour bonjour!” and the kids who were awake all perked up to listen. The moms perked up too. I burst out in song and attempted to put a smile on everyone’s face. It worked.

We had to leave about an hour later and pick up Tass’ parents from the airport, so we said our sad goodbyes. Once we got them we started the long, bumper to bumper smog filled, hot journey back home. We got stuck on one road for quite some time, so our driver decided to turn around and find a different way out of the city. We went through another sketchy part of town on what you could barely even call a road. After some time maneuvering our way through shacks and tents and people’s backyards, we encountered some men who had some shovels and were doing some work. Once they saw our car coming, they immediately blocked the one lane “road” and told our driver to give them money or else they would decapitate him. I felt a little at fault because I, a white American girl, was sitting in the front seat. If it was just a Haitian driver by himself, they probably wouldn’t have bothered or stopped him-but they saw me and of course assumed we had money on us. The driver said, “nope I don’t have any." The men, with the shovels in hand, approached our vehicle slowly and the driver reiterated again “I seriously don’t have any money”. I knew our driver wasn’t going to pay. Once again, all I could do in these types of situations is pray that God would protect us. Once the men realized we seriously weren’t going to pay, for whatever reason they decided to step out of the way instead of carrying out their threat, they let us pass. Maybe we shouldn’t go off roading anymore and just sit in the bumper to bumper traffic.

After a nice week with Tass’ family here, we got a call one afternoon that the hospital was discharging Bethsaika that day because she no longer needed oxygen and there were more emergent kids needing to be seen. They told us the final hospital bill and we said, “no problem, we will come pick her up the next morning and pay the full amount.” Sadly, we received a call that night, that the hospital had kicked Bethsaika and her mom out of the room because they needed the bed. They had no place to sleep. It was late. It was pouring rain outside and they had to sleep on a bench. We were infuriated with the hospital, but apparently this is common practice. We felt so bad that we couldn’t get to them, but we sent our nurse early the next morning to pick them up and pay bill.

We have kept a close eye on her ever since, with several house visits a day: making sure she is eating the right kinds of food (no salt!), making sure she is taking her many medicines, and just being there for her and her family. The whole community was so happy to have her back. Honestly, I didn’t think she’d be back. I get scared thinking about what happens when we leave in a few weeks. I did buy the mom a working phone yesterday and will put data on it so that while we are in the states she can give me updates and we can keep in touch.

Tass' parents: Shelley and Alan

All that to be said, my husband is the one who did the brunt of all of this work and I don’t think he’ll ever know how grateful I am for it. We decided early on that we would take responsibility for this girl, and if that meant draining our savings, we would do it. She is worth it. Her life is worth it.

My parents came for a quick visit last week and it was so wonderful for me to see them. I loved having them come along with us in our day-to-day responsibilities here. They also brought with them loads of shoes, clothes and snacks for the people in our village. Having both sets of grandparents come visit within two weeks was so refreshing for our hearts! We are looking forward to spending more quality family time with them when we return at the end of June.

Papa Andy!

As I said earlier, there are so many things that happen each and every day, but our family has definitely gotten into a wonderful groove of functioning here. It’s nowhere near as difficult as it was our first three months. Sure it’s hard-absolutely. But it’s a good kind of hard. The kind of hard that we can look back on and be so grateful and happy that we were able to do this.

We still do not know what the future looks like for our family. We are leaving Haiti June 24 and will be back in the states on the 25^th. My husband has already begun looking for work. If you are one of our monthly supporters with a recurring online donation and you would like to extend your support one more month while we are back and our family is transitioning, that would be a huge help to us if you are willing and able to do that.

We will also be working remotely for Mission of Grace-continuing to help with coordinating teams, projects, and being a voice for the people of Carries. We will likely be doing some speaking and more fundraising as well. Mission of Grace has taken on a lot of responsibility in their desire to help meet needs and oftentimes they cannot meet their monthly budget. Our heart is to support them in all of their efforts. We have grown to know the leaders and to trust them and their vision. We support it fully.

If while we have been here you have been touched by the work that they and we are doing and would like to give, there are several different ways:

You can click on the button below to give to Mission of Grace directly, and they are very much in need of monthly recurring support.

Mission of Grace

You can go also give through our family's website under the "Join Us" tab.

Join Us In the Journey

We’ve also been using an app that is extremely fast and secure and has been proven to be the best route when emergencies come up. It is called Square Cash and is available for iPhone, Android, and can be done through your web browser. It is essentially like transferring cash from one bank account to another, and it is instant. If you’d like to give via this route, clicking the button below will take you to our giving page.

Square Cash

We thank you for your support and for following this journey, especially as it continues to unfold.

~Tass, Sheena, Ellie & Lilah