I realize the blog has been quiet lately.
This is partially due to the fact that after I returned from Haiti, I hopped a plane to the DC area for a few days.
It’s also partially due to the fact that upon landing in Nashville on Tuesday, I was punched in the face with a pretty rotten cold, and have spent the last two days on my couch in my pajamas watching a pile of Redbox movies and surrounding myself with piles of Kleenex.
As I was cleaning out my Google Reader, I came across this post by my friend Marko, who was in Haiti with me.
Because of the intensity we experienced in Haiti, we found opportunities to release some of the tension by, well…I’ll let you watch this video of Adam as he guarded the groceries we had purchased for Camp Marassa.
Please do not eat or drink anything as you watch the following video.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
This is what happens when you are the only girl on an international trip with a bunch of youth guys.
And I wouldn’t change it for the world. :)
As we spin with the world
Rotating among
The stars and particles
Swirling around us
Tides ebbing and flowing
The moon and the sun rising
We must command
Ourselves
To simply stop.
To simply be.
(Breathe in the air
Not polluted by hurry
And breathe out the spirit
Of mercy and peace)
I had the pleasure of being introduced to Anne Jackson through a ministry partner and friend, Eric Bryant. He told me that we have a lot in common and that I have to look up this chick, @FlowerDust!
It wasn’t until six months later did I come to learn Anne’s incredible value in my life.
I struggle with acute anxiety, and it had been five years since my last burnout. Anne’s book “Mad Church Disease” and her article in Outreach Magazine encouraged me to keep going. I kept all of her encouraging emails to me through my transition from working at Outreach Events to full time speaker & writer.
Why the long intro?
Because I believe there are hurting people everywhere (not just Haiti). Jesus said in Matthew 9:12 that the healthy don’t need a doctor. Sick people do!
I write devotionals because I myself have suffered. Fourteen years ago my mom gave me a One-Year Bible when I was in the hospital with severe eczema and told me to read it. Every day I grew closer to the father heart of God. I journaled. Cried and sobbed and threw fits. If a God who loved me allowed me to suffer-then there He must be able to exercise divine providence.
I’ve kept my word to follow Him daily and my book, “Faithbook of Jesus” is a direct result of my daily time with Him. “Faithbook of Jesus” is the only daily devotional on the market written by a 20-somethings (me) for young people. I’ve surveyed over 300 young adults, ages 18-35 and quoted them in my book to match the day’s verse/devotional.
And if that weren’t enough, my story should inspire you because I was discovered on Twitter by my agent and publisher.
I hope my story inspires hope. Hope for a future because God does what he says will do.
Keep living.
Keep reading and follow Him daily!
That is my prayer!
—
Disclosure of Material Connection: This is a “sponsored post.” The company or identity who sponsored it compensated me via a cash payment, gift, or something else of value to write it. Regardless, I only recommend products or services I use personally and believe will be good for my readers. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
Imagine what it’s like to walk down to the river that’s a few miles from your house.
With a 20 gallon bucket, you let the water slowly spill in, filling it to the top. Lifting the bucket over your shoulder, you carry it back home.
This is your water supply for the next day. You’ll use it to cook and clean and bathe and drink.
You know it may make you sick — it has before, and every time you have a sip is like rolling the dice.
But you also know you need water.
Your baby needs water. He’s getting dehydrated because he has diarrhea. You question yourself.
“Is it making it better…or worse?” as you look over at him. He lays quietly on a blanket inside your home. You can see the goose flesh run up and down his warm skin. He has a fever again.
–
Yesterday, we raised over $5800 for clean water.
$1 provides 1 African clean water for a year. So, if you used that statistic, we’ve provided clean water for over 5800 Africans for a year.
Next year, on my 31st birthday, we’ll do the same, to ensure this necessity doesn’t go away.
5800 people with clean water.
Some, maybe for the first time.
Lifesaving, life giving, clean water.
Water without hesitation — without risk.
–
Thank you guys for your sacrifice. It’s never too late to give.
WOW!
What can I say?
YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!
In just a few hours almost 100 people donated a total of $5395 which provides 5395 people with clean water for a year!
We actually surpassed the goal at exactly 2:19 pm…which is the EXACT time that I was born! (2:19 on 2/19. Kinda freaky!)
I AM BLOWN AWAY!
Even though we’ve hit – nay, exceeded – our goal of $5000, let’s not stop!
You can click here to donate and remember, 100% of your donation is tax deductible and goes to support Blood:Water Mission!
**(Also, as of 2:40 pm CST, all 75 books have been given away to the donors who donated $50+…thank you so much!)
**(Also, as of 2:40 pm CST, all 75 books have been given away to the donors who donated $50+…thank you so much!)
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Update: 7:50 am CST
$1780 donated is providing 1780 Africans with clean water for a year!
Only 25 books remain!
$3220 left to reach our goal!
Update: 9:15 am CST
$2550 donated is providing 2550 Africans with clean water for a year!
I just added 25 more books, so there are now 37 books left if you donate $50 or more.
$2450 left to reach our goal!
Update: 10:30 am CST
$3260 donated is providing 3260 Africans with clean water for a year!
Only 30 books remain (for a donation of $50 or more).
$1740 left to reach our goal!
Update: 12 pm CST
$3900 donated is providing 3900 Africans with clean water for a year!
Only 21 books remain (for a donation of $50 or more).
$1100 left to reach our goal!
Update: 1:30 pm CST
$4550 donated is providing 4550 Africans with clean water for a year!
Only 11 books remain (for a donation of $50 or more).
$450 left to reach our goal!
Update: 2:30 pm CST
$5245 donated is providing 5245 Africans with clean water for a year!
Only 4 books remain (for a donation of $50 or more).
$0 left to reach our goal–but let’s keep this going!
—–
Friday, February 19, 2010, I turn THIRTY stinking years old.
THIRTY.
I’m pretty excited about it…I think.
Anyway…
To celebrate, I would LOVE to raise $5000 for Blood:Water Mission through my Ride:Well Tour (the 3100 mile cycling tour I’m doing in June and July) fundraising.
Two nifty things:
The first nifty thing is this:
Since a few generous friends have already donated to my bike ride and I’ve met that goal - 100% of the donations will go toward the check we write to Blood:Water at the end of the trip. So, whatever you donate today is going straight to Blood:Water Mission!
Can you donate $30 for my 30th birthday? If we can find 167 people to donate just $30 each, we’ll hit the goal. (I’d personally like to blow the pants off it.)
The second nifty thing is this:
The first fifty 75 people who donate $50 or more will receive a free copy of my new book Permission to Speak Freely before anyone else does. The book will be autographed (I can find someone actually famous to sign it if you’d like).
—
This little challenge is for TODAY only – February 19th – so please tell your friends and drop $30 before midnight on February 20, 2010! 100% of your donation is tax deductible.
Your $30 buys 30 Africans clean water for a year.
That means if we reach the goal of $5000, we are providing FIVE THOUSAND AFRICANS with clean water for a year!!!!!
And that is the best 30th birthday gift I could ever ask for!
I’ll update Twitter through the day with the totals, and post the final total back on the blog on Saturday.
—
Today (Ash Wednesday) only, Mad Church Disease is available for download for FREE on the Kindle and the Nook.
If you like the free version, buy the real deal and help me pay my heating bill. :)
Today we begin our journey back to the States.
Because the airport in Port-au-Prince is closed for commercial flights, we are driving the five (read: nine) hour drive back through the Dominican Republic to Santo Domingo, where we will be staying tonight. We fly back to Miami, and then to our respective homes on Wednesday.
However, this story does not end.
When I went to Uganda, it took me a month or two to process what I experienced and how it changed me in the context of my life in America. We quit our jobs and moved to Nashville.
When I went to India, it was a little bit different. I connected on a deeper level with my Compassion child and his father, and that has changed my heart.
However, Haiti has been more like Uganda because it has changed me in a completely different way. It has motivated me to become more active in our political systems to ensure aid is delivered when people need it.
How this looks like in my life? I have no idea.
I’m also thinking about how to engage this “blog family” into Haiti. For some reason, it seems like so many of you connected with the stories we were telling maybe even a bit more than other trips I have taken.
As I said before, what we need is real people on the ground who are courageous, compassionate, and willing to pray for people and help distribute supplies. Maybe help rebuild and clean up.
So, the story will continue. The end of our trip is not the end of our mission.
While we are traveling, I may not be able to post again until I’m home on Wednesday or Thursday. I can’t express how grateful I am for your prayers and support as you have shared the story of such a hopeful and messy and redemptive story.
—
I encourage you to check out my trip mates — my brothers — that have been with me since the beginning. We bonded so well and supported each other and sacrificed for each other.
Yes, I was the only girl.
But they treated me just like one of the guys.
And that too will take some processing.
And quite possibly therapy.
Read their blogs, and hear their stories from the trip.
Rhett “The Only One I Knew” Smith (Twitter)
Lars “Has a 39 year old body” Rood (Twitter)
Jeremy “Abercrombie” Zach (You pronounce it ZOCK!) (Twitter)
THE “Walking Evangecube” Marko
Adam “Does Not Live in a Basement” McLane (Twitter)
Chef & Chief Seth Barnes (Twitter)
Ian “The Boy in the Hole” Robertson (Twitter)
Tim “Are You Like Hitler?” Schmoyer (Twitter)
A variety of media, videos, pictures, and thoughts can also be found on the Facebook Page.
Thank you again.
Love you guys.
We went into the tent city today wondering what would happen.
Thousands of people last night had flooded Twitter with pleas to media and NGOs to help get food, supplies, and medicine to this community we had found yesterday.
Thank you for so quickly falling in love with the families we met that needed so much.
When we arrived shortly before 9 am, the people had planted a church – various tarps and sheets with a small area to use as a stage. Music began immediately, and people filed in singing, dancing, and thanking God for the help that was to come.
The tent city is in a valley, a flood area. To get to it, you walk down a paved road and turn down a dirt road full of rocks and head down an incline. As people kept singing “God is my provision” and “I have no other source but God” I kept looking up from the valley, up the hill, waiting for a caravan of supplies or media to show up.
The verse went through my head, “I lift up my eyes to the hills–where does my help come from?”
I began losing faith.
An hour had passed, and nobody had met us.
We began praying for hundreds of people in the church – they lined up for our team members, and each of us with a translator would hear their request, and we would pray for them. For healing, for protection, for food. I even dedicated a baby (as you can see, she was thrilled).
I kept looking up the hill.
Nothing.
—
Adam came up to me and asked if I had seen the Cuban Medical team arrive on the other side of the camp.
Seriously?
I took off, alone, but armed with Lars’ iPhone (mine broke on the trip the second day) and hiked the quarter mile through the dust to the other area. Sure enough. A medical team from Cuba was there and had set up shop, looking at people, and giving antibiotics and vaccinations and water.
Help had come.
—
By the time I returned to the church-side of the tent city, half of our team decided to go to the airport – where all the official relief was being coordinated – to get some supplies and help. They worked their way in, cut through red tape, pretended to know more than they did, and were able to register the cities to receive official help.
They weren’t able to get food though.
And that wasn’t acceptable.
So they did what they could.
They went to the grocery store and spent $60,000 Haitian dollars on food. That’s about $2000 US. And they took it back to the tent city to distribute it through its leaders.
Help had come.
—
As our team drove away from the tent city, now with medicine, water, and food to make do until they begin receiving official assistance, a UNICEF truck was pulling in to take an assessment.
Help had come.
—
As I said in the earlier post, we didn’t know what today would look like. We just knew we needed to show up. We prayed and worshipped with our new friends, waiting for help.
Help had come.
What was desolate and unknown yesterday has now been provided for today, and will receive provision in the future. Those who were forgotten are now known.
Faith wins.
Again.
—
After our first day in Haiti, I described it as an emotional roller coaster, riding up high on hope and going so fast and so low into despair that my stomach was often left in my throat. The ups and downs screwed with the wiring of my fairly stable American brain.
With each day, it seems like the peaks have gotten higher and the valleys lower.
Yesterday was Sunday, and as we drove to a church service, we saw people dancing and singing in the streets, holding signs that said in Creole, “Haiti for Christ, Christ for Haiti.” My friend Lars compared the people pouring into the streets in the same way I mentioned the rubble pouring into the streets. Both come crashing around every corner and every turn.
We joined a celebration where the Haitians were literally going crazy with praise. I pulled out my trust Flip camera and like any American blogger would do, captured the experience to share. Having no rhythm whatsoever, when I was encouraged to dance by a large man in a bright orange shirt, I laughed and shook my head. I began clapping my hands a little bit.
I did grow up Baptist, so I thought this was a fair enough compromise.
As two boys came up next to me, they didn’t dance. Only stared. Two older women began dancing around me, trying to get me to engage. I took one look at the boys and made a motion that essentially said, “If you do it, I’ll do it.” and we all started jumping up and down and spinning around in circles.
Five minutes later, sweat was forming a river down the middle of my back and I had a heart rate watch on. 158.
That should make my trainer proud.
I was blown away by how quickly their hope moved me from a spectator in to a celebrator.
These people were alive!
These people were free!
These people have a hope and purpose!
I’m alive!
I’m free!
I have a hope and a purpose!
Our gratitude and faith united us.
We continued on to a church service. At the church, Rhett, Lars, Jeremy and I were quickly escorted to the front and asked to individually share. “You come to my church, so you will preach,” the pastor told Rhett. Gathered under tarps and sheets, we each spoke about what we have been learning in Haiti. I told them,
“I do not have the words to express how deep my sorrow is for your loss. I also do not have the words to express how grateful I am for the gift of your hope that you have shared with us.”
Their eyes shined with hope and it was apparent they were so thankful to be alive.
The sun became more intense as we drove to a desolate part of Port-au-Prince. As we walked down to a massive tent city, my eyes watered from the dust being blown around and the brightness of the sun beating down on my face. Jeremy and I broke off from the group with our translator and went tent to tent, hearing about what had happened to each family, and what their needs were.
Our first family was hopeful, even though they were completely lost and without any possessions — even a tent. As we went farther in, we found two women and two children. We learned there has not been any food or medical aid that has assisted the community, as the woman showed us where her leg had been trapped under debris. She had an infection and fever. We asked how old her children were. One was six, and one was three.
The six year old looked to be only two years old, so our translator asked her several times, “are you sure he’s six?” and she said yes, over and over again. He had contracted malaria at an early age, had finally received treatment, but because of the damage it had caused, he can’t eat. He can only drink water. He was so malnourished, his body had stopped developing.
This city is in a flood zone, and March is the rainy season for Haiti. There is no proper drainage and as soon as the rain comes, because of the location of this community, what little the do have will be washed away. The diseases will spread quickly, and another tragedy will strike.
Supply trucks and relief organizations drive by this city every day and don’t stop. We’re about to return and are praying for a miracle. We’ve been in touch with almost every organization we could contact with the exact location and needs, and we can only hope someone shows up with food. We’ve been in touch with media, and we can only hope someone shows up and is able to tell the world of this desperate need of 5,000 displaced Haitians.
We’ve also been in long, loud, united prayer — in touch with our Saviour — who loves the people of this city deeply. We don’t hope he will show up. We know he is already there.
In just a couple of hours we don’t know what we will encounter when we return. I am praying for a miracle for these people, whether it is while we are there or after we return to the states.
And I hope you will join with me on this prayer.
