My favorite season is upon us. I love the crisp cold air in the mornings and sitting out on our front porch at night sipping on some fireball. I love when it gets dark a bit earlier. Cloudy skies and minor chords. There’s a remote possibility that I’m as melancholy as they come.
My husband and father are bound for Haiti tomorrow evening and to be honest, I am jealous. Sad. I feel like my body is here, enjoying all the amenities of a country that I am extremely thankful for; but my heart is with the people of Haiti. The last couple of weeks have been some of the best and worst I have experienced in a while.
After the mudslide, my heart broke even more for the community of Carries. “Why can’t these people get a break?!!” I asked God. Then, everything in me wanted to run down there with my dad and husband. I wanted to be there for them, help clean, make meals, paint, rebuild, whatever they needed. BUT, as much as I am a big advocate of physically going and serving, in this instance, I realized it was way more beneficial for them if I just sent the money that I would have used to get myself down there. In this situation, the thing they needed most was funds to continue feeding the community. That, and strong men. As hard as it is, I am staying put. Taking care of my kiddos here and bidding farewell to two men I highly respect and am so proud of.
Tass and my dad already had a trip planned for October. My father wanted to go down and check the country out-see where his daughter and family would be living, and also move some of our things down (due to the recent policy change in baggage allowance). After hurricane Erika though, they quickly changed their tickets and moved up their trip.
This past year I’ve really gotten familiar with the term bitter-sweet. Before, sure, you go through moments in life where you experience that term. Moments. This whole year I have felt those simultaneous opposing feelings. I am excited for Tass and my dad to go together. I know my dad will fall in love with the country just as we have. My heart sighs in relief knowing they’re bringing bins and bins of supplies down for the people. I know staples like toothpaste and deodorant run out, but at least some will be given a fresh supply. As sad as I am not to be there and hug the people, I am happy my men are going.
Last night, my daughter was getting ready for bed and I said, “Honey I don’t know if we told you or not but daddy and Grandpa Andy are leaving in a couple days for Haiti so they’ll be gone for awhile”. She looks up at me, and with a solemn face and sad little eyes she replies, “Lucky.”
Apparently she wanted to go just as much as I did. I realized in that moment that I could not breed into her a love for Haiti. Even if I wanted to or tried, it is not something that can be forced or coerced. It’s either something you fall in love with, or it’s not your thing. To each his own. We all have our own callings and purposes in life. But I am grateful to see how our hearts continue to be knit together as a family, for Haiti.
And I am so grateful for the love and support our family and friends have shown us these past few months. I feel strengthened by it. I know people are for us. My tough, self-sufficient side of the family has turned into a bunch of cry babies as we get together, lean in on each other, thank God for the time we have left together and look forward to what He’s doing in each of our lives.
May we all do the same.