Collide

On May 4th a medical team of eight from Deep Water arrived in Haiti. They were originally supposed to stay the night in Port-au-Prince but at the very last minute, it was decided that they would stay here at the beach house. I anxiously awaited the arrival of their taxi and the sight of some familiar faces. Over the past three months I’ve met countless people, but none of them I’ve ever met before Haiti. This was the first time that anyone I knew got out of the vehicle.

It was a pretty relaxing night, complete with swimming and catching up. The next day, the team went over to LaGonave and I went over with them. I spent the weekend on the island visiting the team and also hanging out with the other missionaries on the compound. This was the first time that my two worlds had collided. On one side were people I’ve known for years. I’d seen them week after week at church, I’d been to their homes or apartments, I’d gotten together with them for coffee. On the other side were people I was just beginning to build those friendships with. One the other side was a whole group of people that is becoming another family.

After the week had finished, I realized how weird is was to be waiting here for them when they arrived, but even weirder was to stay behind when they left. To watch them drive away and then go back in the house and right back to work, it was a little odd, but that’s just my life now. Haiti is my home and I’ve got to get used to people just passing through.

 

Rain

The weather over the past few days has surprised me. It started on Monday. The sky was overcast and it started raining around noon. It’s been raining off and on ever since. With the rain, cooler temperatures always follow. It was 25 degrees today and if I had a pair of jeans, socks and sneakers easily at my disposal, I probably would have put them on. It’s usually sunny and 30-32 degrees everyday, but not this week. I made a comment today that this is a typical Nova Scotian summer, and I feel right at home.

The rain has always been one of my favorite parts of Haiti. I’m not exactly sure why, but I always look forward to any rain we may get. It might be because when it rains, it usually pours. It might be because the rain pounding on all the concrete sounds amazing. It might be because standing out in the rain is one of the most refreshing things you can do in Haiti. It might be because the rain turns this dusty, brown country into a lush, green paradise once the rain stops.

Let’s just say that I’m enjoying the rain, and I would not be at all upset if it continued for a few more days.

 

Overwhelming Victory

35 Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death? 36 (As the Scriptures say, “For your sake we are killed every day; we are being slaughtered like sheep.”)

37 No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.
38 And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.

39 No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

- Romans 8:35-39

I’ve read this passage a few time before, but when I read it again last night, it had new meaning. Verse 35 starts by asking if anything can ever separate us from God. The simple answer is no, but Paul goes on to say that even in the face of trouble, sudden danger or distress, persecution, lack of food, water, clothing, shelter and even death, we still have victory through Christ. And Paul uses the words “overwhelming victory” to describe what we have in Jesus.

How often to we feel like we have overwhelming victory? How often in the face of danger, or hunger, or death do we feel like we have overwhelming victory? There have been many times when I was struggling to feel any victory, much less overwhelming victory.

I live in Haiti now. This is my home for two years. I’ve never known real hunger. I have no idea what that’s like, but I now come in contact with people all the time who may not know where their next meal is going to come from. This is a culture that eats their biggest meal for breakfast, because they don’t know if they will have anything the rest of the day. Calamity is described as: “an event causing great and often sudden damage or distress; a disaster.” Yeah, these people know calamity well here. To be destitute is to be without the basic necessities of life. I think they know what destitution is like as well. Do you know what it’s like to be threatened with death? Because I don’t. A young family I met recently had their lives threatened a few years ago after they fired a few workers and recently one of Dan’s construction foreman’s was robbed at gun point in the streets of Cite Soleil.

There is huge opposition and many struggles in following Christ, but nothing can separate us from His love. In the last verse, Paul says that nothing in all creation will be able to separate us from the love He has revealed to us through Jesus.

This being Easter weekend, I’ve been thinking and reflecting on that exact victory that Jesus was given over death. Through this we see just how much God loves us and the strength and power that rests in God alone. No matter what we face, we can take comfort in the fact that we are both free and secure in the Father’s love because we have been given overwhelming victory over the temporary struggles of this world.