In the Master's Shoes

Sometimes we find ourselves in unfamiliar circumstances, with no sound option but to move forward with the hope of learning something. The predicament, if we are watchful, can transform us like a caterpillar into the most beautiful butterfly, giving flight to our purpose in life. God places us there, not in the dire straits that we can see from our perspective, but in the opportunity to grow, from His perspective, into the masterpiece that He intends. It’s like knowing the expression of the Mona Lisa, but her lips haven’t yet tasted the artist’s brush, knowing the twinkle in eyes that have not yet seen the color of the paints, blending on the palette. It’s coming into focus more and more for us, the painted, but the Painter has seen the wonderful Vision all along the dotted way.

If we are never found in a new place, a new trial, or a new happenstance, we become stagnant and murky. Soon we start to stink, and before you know it we’re breeding grounds for all the nasty things. Selfishness and pride mix in with a dose of complacency and laziness, and it’s a terrible brew, a cup of wrath for the drinking.

But, If we choose to welcome the adventure of each new day, the epiphany of each sunrise, the troubles of each trial.....ahhhh, life is fresh, ripe, ready for the tasting! We’ve only to pluck that beautiful fruit from the tree and savor!

It was a flurry of preparations on the day we knew the master of the house would be coming to visit. Electric air! Thoughts were racing, anticipation churning.

Tikilene, my Haitian Momma, arrived early, with a bounce in her step.
“Pierre is coming!” She said with a smile. “We have alot of work to do!”
I gave her a big hug, the only proper way to hug a Mom, and decided to toy with her a bit,
“Hey, you want to go for a swim in the ocean with me. It’s beautiful out there. We can just relax and take it easy.”
“No, No, No!” She insisted, just the way I knew she would. “There’s no time for that! Only time for work! Work!”
I laughed.
“Yes, Momma. Ok. Well......let’s get to the work!”

She cleaned and scrubbed and mopped away with Abby and Kari. The girls had the inside.
Logan and I started picking up leaves, burning the garbage, sweeping the yard. The boys had the outside.

I’d never been in that position before, awaiting and preparing for the arrival of the master of the house. I’ve always been the master of my own house, and it was never up to anyone but my wife and I to clean up whatever mess we found. There were always plenty of messes, thanks to two kids, two dogs and a cat.
This was an entirely new point of view.

As the hour approached, the work finished and it was time for inspection. Under Tikilene’s watchful eyes, we gave everything a second look. All of us took on her servant’s heart. Smiling, singing, bouncing. We tried to put ourselves in the master’s shoes. What would be the first things he’d see? What would his eyes fall to as he entered the gates of his home? What detail needed polishing, so he would feel the most perfect relief to be home, to bring thanksgivings to his heart?

Verses sprang to my mind, and I realized that, once again, God was painting me a picture, making His words leap up off the pages so I could understand His story with more clarity. A smile was coming to my face. A twinkle to my eye, as I realized He was putting things into perspective for me, in ways I could comprehend, in much the same way you might tell a story to a child using puppets. I’m thankful He does that for me. It tells me that He loves me, He cares for me enough to help me understand, a little more every day.

“Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom the master has put in charge of the servants in his household to give them their food at the proper time? It will be good for that servant whose master finds him doing so when he returns. I tell you the truth, he will put him in charge of all his possessions. But suppose that servant is wicked and says to himself, ‘My master is staying away a long time,’ and he then begins to beat his fellow servants and to eat and drink with drunkards. The master of that servant will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour he is not aware of. He will cut him to pieces and assign him a place with the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." ~Matthew 24:45-51

A Different Noel

Yesterday morning Chelo and I embarked on another journey to find a new road and see just how far it would play out.  We came to the end of the line, and I marked in my GPS where the new trailhead began.  There's a new church just up the mountain another quarter-mile.   I've been taking note of the open huts, the gathering places that dot the tops of each ridge.   Some of them have large drums.  I remembered reading a book by a Haitian author about these huts, how they're used for Voodoo.   I've yet to confirm that, since it seems against the culture and etiquette to speak of it openly. 

On the way back I stopped to say hello to a man who I think is involved in Voodoo.  He was very kind to me.  He told me he was thinking he might come to pay me a visit for 'the party'.  

"What party?" I said.

"Christmas."

"Ahhhh.   I see."

I'm still not sure how I feel about that.

From noon on we spent half the day cooking a special Christmas Eve supper for some friends. Yes, it takes that long to prepare a big meal in Haiti. Alot of time hovering over the dutch ovens. The time for them to arrive came and went, and for 2 hours we tried to keep everything warm. Finally we got word that they were unable to come, and so we sat and ate as a family. You know the parable in the Bible about the banquet that was prepared, and then nobody showed? We had more clarity on that message than ever before. We went out into the street and invited a neighbor over. By then the food was cold, but she was happy to take a plate home. It was a bitter sweet experience for Christmas Eve.

This morning we started early, just after sunrise, tending the fire to get the coals hot for cooking apple crisp and brownies. The neighbor lady Tililene began burning huge piles of garbage in anticipation of the owner of the house to show tomorrow. Preparations for his arrival are underway. The air is filled with smoke from burning fires. I opened the back gate and walked down to the river. Little Bebe was wading in the middle, using a long stick to fish out whatever might be laying on the river bottom that might be worth something. It's Christmas morning. I noticed the size of his arms. Sticks. He's deaf and doesn't make words, but he understood me when I asked him to come with me. We had a fresh coconut cut just for him, ready for the drinking. Then my son brought him a cold chunk of fudge. It took him 10 minutes to eat it. His smile was huge as he savored the taste of the rich chocolate.

Kari and I watched the sun coming over the mountains across the ocean.  The kids sipped on a special treat, hot chocolate.  I sipped on my coffee and told my wife,

"It's really like being back in Wyoming, except all the low-country is blue. I'm still looking out at big, beautiful mountains."

"Yeah, and you're in the tropics, it's already hot, that's an ocean, there are Haitians, they speak another language, they have an entirely different culture, Christmas Eve is an all-night party and Christmas is just another day."   She said.

"Hmmmm.  Yeah, it's a little different."   

Flying

I preached my first sermon today.  We visited 3 churches and had 2 Bible distributions....
Sometimes, there has to be no reason whatsoever to just stop, let go, have fun and fly...

Many Thanks!

My family was asked to put together a short video for some school children back in the States today.  I have to say we found it very difficult to be on the other side of the camera.   We tried to give everyone a snapshot of what the mission here looks like.   To everyone who has contributed this year, helping us to come here and give great Treasure in His Name, Mesi Anpil, (Many Thanks!)

Frantzou Singing

Frantzou is a young Christian man.  He wants to come with us on our next Bible distribution.  He stops by the house when he has questions about the Bible.  This Friday we'll be talking about Proverbs together after his final exams.
He has an insatiable hunger to know Christ, and I see no fear in him to spread the news.  It's encouraging and refreshing to see an individual mobilize for Christ, motivated only by the desire to share.


'There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. '  1 John 4:18


The image of the moon was our view of the Lunar Eclipse from Haiti.  We saw beautiful burnt gold, bouncing off the water.   Did you know when most people photograph the moon, they make the common mistake of slowing down their shutter, or cranking up their ISO's.  But it's actually the opposite that does the trick.  You have to shoot it like you're in the noon-day sun.  Why?  Because in total darkness, the light shines brightly!

God's Donkey

My wife read to me the story of a man who used to take Bibles up into the mountains in China.  He was supposed to carry the Word of God to the people.
He said he was God's Donkey. 
That resonated with me. 
I think that's my great work, my seasoning, for now.  
Honestly, I don't even feel worthy for the task.
But this is the way He's arranged it.
I go and pick up Bibles in Cayes. The woman who runs the Bible Store knows me well.
I haul in the Bibles to my village, and then, almost as if on schedule, a pastor knocks on my door.
He's a new pastor.  
I've never met him.  
I've never been to his village.  
But he's heard of me and my call. 
We sit and have some cold water.  My brother-in-Christ always has a list for me, a list of souls, hungry for the word of God.
He always looks at me a little funny.  I'm strange.  I don't fit. I'm not cut from the Pastor cloth.  Not what you'd expect I guess.  
I've always been a little odd to the Shepherds, but I'm getting used to that.  When you look at the sheep all day, a donkey doesn't quite fit the mold.
We schedule a day that I will visit the church, or a day the church will come to the local clinic, and then he leaves with a bounce in his step, encouraged.  
The big day comes, and we bring the Bibles.
The people trickle in.  Then they pour into the chairs.
We give them the Gospel.
We write down their names in their personal Bible.
And they walk down the path to home.  
Big, hope-filled smiles.
Are they all saved? 
Was I born yesterday?
But my purpose is to bring the Word.  I'm not the Judge and Jury.
Discipleship is happening. In conversations, in actions, in love.
For now, it's a great privilege, an honor to carry these Bibles.  
When, or if He decides to give me more, I'll be glad to do more.
Other brothers and sisters, local men and woman, have asked to join us.  
They're not coming to get paid.  There is no pay.  
Only a chance to help. 
A pastor wants to come with me to the next church we visit.  
A young Christian man wants a part to play on Sunday when we give the Bibles again.  
There's not many parts.  
You can give a Bible. 
You can give the Gospel.  
You can testify of His Love.
Bible #408 walked down the main road of my village today.

Mr. Gedna

Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life—in order that I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor for nothing. 

Philippians 2:14-16

He's moved back to Haiti now.

He's been filled, poured into, richly blessed 

with solid teaching.

He's living in a house with 2 strong Christian men, 

down by the ocean, 

where there's time to think about God's plan.
A missionary, a carpenter, even built him a beautiful bed.

He's got himself a shiny silver, classic Honda scooter.

He's even got a new hair style.

But what really matters?  Now he's got a new way to walk - 

physically and spiritually.

Good morning!

Time to shine, Andi Gedna.  

Time to shine.

Diamonds in the Rough

When we lived in America, he was a classic rock hound.  It didn't matter where we were, he was always scanning the ground for any rock that might stand out among the others.  He was looking for the peculiar.

In Haiti, he has a new passion.  He will stand out on the stormy days in contrast against the shoreline, scanning the ground for the new treasure, of greater worth than gold in his eyes... yes, the ever elusive seashell.  The angry ocean churns up her bottom and spits them up on the rocks by the dozens, and when the water recedes, there is my boy, ready to commence the search. 

He has a whole tupperware container full of them, and I must admit they are beautiful.  He's even got his sister and some of their Haitian friends interested in the hunt.

I picked out one that was original, and I've strung it around my neck.

It reminds me.  Like these beautiful shells hidden among the garbage and debris, we're all just diamonds in the rough.   Treasure in the making, even though right now we may be all kinds of peculiar. 

Walking in the Light

Yesterday brought an unexpected chore.  When Tililene went for our daily cup of rice...it moved.  Right away she dragged the bag out and plopped it down in the sun, then called for us.   Under the sink, inside the ice chest, in deep darkness, that rice seemed just fine.  But when we began to open up the bag and spread out the rice into pans, we saw what it was really made of.   It was infested.


In the darkness, even in the shade outside, we could have picked through it all day long, and it wouldn't have mattered.  The bugs were hidden deep in the sack, even inside the grains of rice where they couldn't be seen.


My friend Chelo came over just as we were making our discovery.
"We've got a problem." I sighed. "What a waste. Well, we'll have to get rid of it."  
But Chelo laughed,
"When you said you had a problem, I was worried.  I thought it was something serious, you know.  This?  Ha! This is no problem!  This happens all the time!  Just put it out in the sun!"

So we spread the rice out on the pans and set them in the hot Haitian sun.   It was so bright it seemed to luminesce, and almost immediately we began to watch the bugs rise to the surface. They couldn't stay. They couldn't leap out of the light fast enough.  They fled for their lives.  We sifted the grains over and over, until there was nothing left but the rice, and I'm left with my lesson.


God has been driving a message home with me recently, and I wonder if you can follow this thread as it weaves from age-old scripture into this dance of life called Today.


In discipleship with my Haitian brothers, we decided to read through Proverbs, and this verse lit up when I came across it:
The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter till the full light of day. 
But the way of the wicked is like deep darkness; they do not know what makes them stumble. 
Proverbs 4:18-19

My family also has morning devotions.  We meet as soon as we're all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and we dig through scripture together.  The kids picked the book we're on now, which is 1 John.  These are the verses that have been highlighted in my heart:


"This is the message we have heard from Him and declare to you: God is light; in Him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with Him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. But if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, His Son, purifies us from all sin. " 1 John 1:5-7


"Yet I am writing you a new command; its truth is seen in Him and you, because the darkness is passing and the true light is already shining. 
Anyone who claims to be in the light but hates his brother is still in the darkness. Whoever loves his brother lives in the light, and there is nothing in him to make him stumble. But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks around in the darkness; he does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded him." 1 John 2:8-11


Just like the rice, we can't claim to be something we aren't.  We can't claim to have righteousness, yet in the light be revealed as infested.  If we claim Jesus, yet we're blinded in darkness, what good are we?


Instead, wouldn't you rather be the first gleam of dawn?  Fresh, new, Hope!
Wouldn't you rather be a bolt of sunlight pushing out into these hills?  Don't you want to shine the light on the path to Jesus?  Don't you want to burst forth as the bugs flee?   


If it were left only to us and our infested minds one might think we're fit for the garbage heap.  But God doesn't see us as finished.
His Boy can fix the problem. His Boy can transform you today.

Take your life and pour on the Son. Let the dark things find their rightful, scurried place and light up your world today. 

IF

I don't like 'IF'.
It is the brother to Maybe, the cousin of Never.

If we're all going to live in IF, we all might as well rip our hearts out of our chests right now and let them slowly stop beating, because they no longer serve a purpose.  There's no point for blood to course through our veins if we can't back up what we know in our hearts to be true.

If all the stars align and everything falls into place before you leap, what room is there for faith? 

Travay Di

I saw boards piled high in the road.
I heard them long before I saw them.
They'd been at it for a long time.
The ladies were hauling water for them from the well.
One of the men was cooking in a big pot over the fire for them.
This is a simple video. It's purpose it to show only 1 thing.
Work Ethic.
Did I work hard today?
Hmmmm.
Did I work Haitian hard?

Local Faces 11: Lin

Her uncle sells gasoline by the pop or rum bottle just down the street from me, which is the standard measure here. The closest gas station is out near Cayes, so often times it's necessary to buy a bottle here and there.  Her mom goes to the Catholic church.  Her father has passed away.  She wants to learn more English, which is great, because her friend (my daughter) needs to learn more Kreyol.  It's a good match.  

She dressed up for church on Sunday, so we took some pictures. 

Lin is 13 years old, and she's extremely courteous and polite.  

Local Faces 10: Little Bebe

Some days I'm better off not writing what's really on my heart, because it's not checked.  It's not prayed over.  It's just raw emotion. I've deleted most of what I had written today because I'm frustrated.    Instead of being swayed into not posting at all, I choose instead to set down the words and pick up the pictures.

This is Bebe.  It means dumb or mute.  He's a homeless boy that hangs around my village.   He's deaf, so he can't make any words. He doesn't have the privilege of having a roof over his head, let alone an education.   He's harsh.  Because he can't communicate, he is very dramatic.  Somewhere along the line, someone hurt him.  He doesn't have much in the way of manners, because love is a foreign affair in his world.  

He has goodness in him, but he's quick to anger, and he'll fight anyone.   It doesn't matter to him if there's 2,3 even 4 boys on 1, he'll still swing for all he's got.    I've seen him cry several times after a fight.  Now and then he's hit in the head with a rock, and I see him screaming.   He's tolerated here.  Some people are kind to him.  Some are not.  Justice here is brutally efficient.  You are either right or wrong, and your punishment is swiftly carried out.  You just hope that your judge and jury has a forgiving swing.   


I wonder how he'll end up in this old world.  Will kindness rule the day and his heart at the finish?

Bito's Bench

When my wife got here, she had this need, this inner urge, this pull, for us to have a bench.
So, one day when a man from the mountain came down the path with rough lumber and leaned the boards up next to our house, I took it as a sign.   Me and Rough Lumber have a history, you know.


Bito, a man who lives 2 doors down, is a boatworker and a carpenter.
When I asked him how much it would cost to build me a bench, he just smiled.
"I've got no problem with you." He said, "You gave me a Bible, I will build the bench for free."
I gave Benson the money to buy the lumber, and right away that night I could hear Bito's hand saw and hammer.   It was a Sunday night, and he'd gone to work on the project straight away.


A week later, there was our bench, and we thanked Bito for his work.  We payed him regardless for his effort.   He's a kind man.  Such a hard worker.


We tried the bench in several spots, and nothing seemed to fit just right, until just the other day.
I'd taken the bench outside the front gate and was talking with Benson and Tikilene.
"It just doesn't feel right having it here.  Maybe across the road.  That seems better." I said.
Without another thought, Tikilene walked up the hill to the neighbors and asked if they'd mind having the bench on their side of the road.
They smiled down at us and gave us the ok, and so we moved it.


I didn't understand why my wife needed a bench.  I don't know that she did either.  She just knew it would be filled up.   She was right.


We call it Bito's Bench for Everyone, or Ban Bito pou Tout Moun.   Every day we take it out and place it on the side of the road.  Beaming expecting mothers, a variety of giddy school children, teenagers, elderly sages of the community, and passerby's on their way to market all find respite in the nice shade.  It's a good place to shoot the breeze. Benson inscribed a greeting above that reads, "Have a Sit".
We try to only speak Creole when we sit there, it's the only requirement.


The purpose for some projects just can't be seen from this side of things, but now and then God gives us a glimpse through the clouds into His clarity.  Some projects are so simple and basic, they only require a little bit of love to kickstart them into being, but the finished work can move mountains.