Day 6: His Plan

As I sit quietly and reflect upon the day, a word that comes to mind is “plan.” There is no doubt in my mind that God wanted each and every one of us to be on this trip to see what we have seen, to meet who we have met, and to feel what each of us have felt. He intended for us to be here and He intends to use us in how He sees fit.

This morning we started out our day with our last water truck run of the trip. We delivered to two separate neighborhoods in Cite Soleil. While at our first stop, I saw one of the young boys I had met earlier in the week. We happily greeted each other, and with a smile and through our eyes we were able to communicate that we had remembered each other. I sat down to play with the children and before I knew it I had two little girls taking care of me by braiding my hair. After water was flowing from every bucket (and then some), a water fight broke out. All it took was one small bucket of water to be dumped one child’s head to erupt a chain reaction amongst the children and adults alike. The little boy I had befriended only days earlier climbed atop a nearby cement structure and sneakily poured water on me and every person that crossed his path. The moment was divine – cold water to soothe us from the intense Haitian heat and smiles across every face in sight.

The second stop we made was, dare I say, even poorer, filthier, and seemingly more in need than any of the previous stops we had visited. It is hard to capture in words just what we saw, as all five senses were fully engaged at all times. Despite the conditions, we all greeted the children with warm smiles, hugs, and laughter. At one point, our group (and the swarm of children that latched onto us) left the water-truck workers to man the station and went on a walk-through of this particular area. I had seen extreme poverty everywhere on our trip but somehow this trumped everything thus far. Small, tin shanties that families called “home” lined the garbage dump just feet away. Pigs scampered around looking for leftover scraps to call their own. The sight and smell of it all nearly made me sick.

I saw the glass lined path we were walking down and could not help to think of all of the poor little feet following behind us. How could walking on a “sidewalk” made of garbage be seemingly so normal to these little ones that trailed behind? How could this possibly be real living conditions for our brothers and sisters of Haiti? How could our hearts not be torn and how could we dare just sit on the sidelines?

As I ponder these questions, I cannot help but wonder what God might prompt us to do once we return home. I am certain though that He will reveal to each of us in due time just how he intends to make a difference in our own way.

Molly Mozdzyn McKeen Healing Haiti Team Member