Believe it or not, this has always been somewhat of a censored blog. There are some things, living here, that are left unspoken in the hopes of preserving a shred of parental peace at night. We all have Mom's and Dad's, Grandma's and Grandpa's. It's natural to try to shield those you love from worry. We went through alot of that last year, things I just wouldn't post because they were frightful or they reflected the 'other side' of Haiti. We kept it positive, almost always, and gave the rest to God.
I'm beginning to think that maybe the time for reservation has come and gone, and the time for prayer warriors is more at hand.
So here it is, friends and family. We live in a new village, and there's evil. Sorry. It's Haiti.
Across the street from our house is a big night club. Behind our house is a place where they dance for evil. C.T. Studd's words strike true here, except that just a couple of doors down from the nightclub is also a church, so we get the rescue shop AND the sound of church. In Haiti, you get both. There hasn't been room for just one or the other on this island.
I've made a friend, a man named Wilber. But it's been slow going to press any further into the community. When we first came, people were shooing us away. Some said the day we first stopped at the house, "Ale, Blanc." (Go, White.) We knew it was going to take some time to dig in, get our foxholes in order, and begin.
The people here are just as beautiful, and they need Jesus just as much here as anywhere, and besides, they are no worse than me.
The people here are just as beautiful, and they need Jesus just as much here as anywhere, and besides, they are no worse than me.
Here's where all you prayer warriors need to perk up...
For the last two weeks, at exactly 3 a.m. in the morning, two or more people come down the path to my house and begin to throw rocks, at the house, over the wall, onto the roof. They walk up to our bedroom window. They tap on the walls. Sometimes they talk quietly to one another. We've heard drums. I've opened my eyes from sleep to hear someone take a step just outside my window, at least a dozen times. I'm not afraid. That time passed from me a year ago.
Until today I've only told one other person, my good friend Todd. I told him that because of the progression of my prayer, I know God is growing me.
When it first began, my prayers were rudimentary: "Lord, right now, please knock down my enemy. Confuse him. Hit him in the head. Make him fall down and run away. Make him very afraid. Give me strength to fight like one of David's Mighty Men, should we come to it."
Then the prayers began to evolve: "Lord, let's try this. Put love in the heart of my enemy. Love for You, God. Then put love in them for the Blanc. So much that when they feel it, they are surprised, and they say, 'Oh-Oh!? What's this?! Do I LOVE the Blanc?!' In a very 'Matrix' moment I imagine Neo diving into the Agent, light bursting from his eyeballs and finger tips...
Now, when I hear them as I awake, my prayers already have commenced: "Lord, put love in MY heart for my enemy. Make ME love them. Put Your Love in them. Give them the call You've given me, 10x fold. May they each reach 10x the people I might reach in Your Name." I have to admit this is followed, just a touch, by a 'bwa-ha-ha-ha' on my part.
Last night, the rocks again ushered in 3 a.m., right on time with the roosters, and my prayers began as scheduled. But, this time I woke my wife and grabbed the machete. I picked up a light and told her to let me out and lock the door behind me. I stepped out where I thought they were but didn't see them. I grabbed a rock and chucked it. I heard something jump in the bushes.
"God will find you." I said.
I listened.
All rock throwing was quiet. They were curious. They hadn't seen this yet. They were calculating their next move. I was waiting. I began tapping my machete on the wall. Metal against concrete makes a distinct sound.
Then, after a couple of minutes of this little game of chess, I heard steps. I came to the wall of the house and shined my light. There was an older man with a machete, in a blue shirt, with a black dog. He 'hiccuped' just a bit when the light fell on him, trying to continue like a bright light hadn't just blinded him. Then I think he realized the foolishness of trying to ignore a blinding light in the middle of the night, and he looked at me.
"Salu!" I said.
He huffed and puffed something unrecognizable under his breath and kept walking, out to the road, past the well, and down the national road until he was out of sight. His black dog followed close behind him nervously.
I came back into the house and locked up tight, checked the kids, and told my wife,
"I know there's more than one. Soon as we lay down, you watch."
Sure enough, after about 10 minutes, there came the now familiar knock of a rock against the wall.
I won't go out anymore. My Haitian friend already advised me this morning not to do that again, and I already know better. If they can plan on me charging outside, I really do nothing but create a security issue.
So, all you awesome warriors of the great Conversation with God, please when you are down on those well-worn knees today, offer us up, would you? Present my case before the Judge. I'm sick. I have a cold. I need a little rest, and then we'll get back to work.
Blessings!
'Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.' ~Paul
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