I'm glad you're here.

Welcome to my blog! I'm so excited to share with you! Thank you for your prayers, your support, and your encouragement. It means a lot to me, the other volunteers at Children of the Promise, and especially the dear little ones I get to work with. :)



Tuesday, March 15, 2011

sweet like a sirèt.


Meet Klevens! He’s a spunky, super sweet, sometimes naughty six year old that stole our hearts when he came with his mom to visit his twin sisters a week ago last Wednesday.

Although you’d never be able to tell by just looking at our smiley little friend, Klevens has a bit of a medical problem. He has what’s called a rectal prolapse and his intestine protrudes from his anus a good 6 -7 inches. I know, right?! Extremely uncomfortable. This was my first time meeting Klevens and I actually don’t know how long he’s been suffering with this condition. But he sure looks happy!

We sent some emails, made some phone calls, and took a few trips to the local hospital and as of this morning Klevens was admitted to the pediatric unite with surgery scheduled for tomorrow. Praise the Lord! I’m sure if you’ve read some of my previous blog posts you understand that getting medical and surgical treatment in Haiti is nowhere near a guaranteed thing. But praise God that a surgical team from the states is here in Milot this week and the doctor was willing to take a peak at Klevens little/rather large, problem.

Please pray that Klevens sleeps well in his hospital bed tonight!

Somehow this boy got me to promise to give him a sucker, a snack, and a five goud coin when he finished getting blood drawn this morning... Crazy hey? Kid's got the gift of persuasion. Actually, he probably just smiled or something, then I caved.

Well, I’ll be heading to the hospital tomorrow to check on him just after surgery. They’re doing a procedure that’s not guaranteed to resolve the problem in its entirety. If the procedure fails then a second, more complicated procedure will need to be performed. Wouldn’t it be great if this first, simple procedure is all that Klevens needs!?

I'll let ya'll know how things go tomorrow...

Monday, March 14, 2011

I'm a humanitarian?

Okay so I love spending time with Jenn and traveling with her is something I was definitely looking forward to doing more of but lets just say that these circumstances were less than ideal and I would have been MORE than happy to have waited on that traveling thing until…this summer maybe?

Beginning last Wednesday Jenn and I got to have another sweet, or rather, bittersweet traveling experience. This blog post shall be devoted to Jenn and her month of illness.

Raise your hand if you’ve had kidney stones.

The start of Jenn’s problems most likely began about a month ago with some intense kidney stone pain. She couldn’t eat, she couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t drink and I’d sometimes find her doubled over on the floor. Don’t tell her I told you that.

With the IV fluids and a table full of medication our apartment somewhat resembled a hospital room, Haiti-style of course.

There was one morning when Jenn had somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep and woke up feeling slightly better. After 5 days cooped up inside the apartment she was ready to venture out for an early morning drive to Louise’s house. We’re pretty sure that it was on this outing that she passed her kidney stone hidden behind some sugar cane bushes out in the fields but we never found the stone in the midst of all that goat poop… maybe next time.

I tried my best to take care of Jenn but secretly I couldn’t stand to see her in so much pain. You can bet I wasn’t excited when the pain returned less than two weeks later.

I did some lab tests and in the absence of infection her symptoms still pointed to kidney stones. We talked with a few doctors and they advised us to get things checked out in the states. Maybe Jenn needed a stent or lithotripsy. We went to Milot to chat with a visiting physician on Tuesday afternoon. The one thing we took away from the conversation: Get to the states within 12 hours if a fever arises.

Funny, we get home and Jenn’s temperature jumps to 102.3. Trust me, we’re both not ones to go running for the comforts of America. But those older and wiser encouraged us to lean on the safe side and head to a hospital in Florida. Someone once told me that “kidney stones plus a fever can kill a healthy 22 year-old.” Yikes.

Jenn agreed to go and Nick and Jamie helped book some flights out the following morning. I love talking to Jenn about the night that, in her delirium, she agreed to go to Florida. Funny thing is, she doesn’t remember agreeing to go to Florida and spent the first few hours of our trip mad at me for forcing her to leave Haiti. ;) Love ya.

Arguably the first God-thing that happened during the course of our trip was the fact that our new friends and recent COTP volunteers, Paul and Kelsey were able to pick us up from the airport. Thanks for living in Ft. Lauderdale P and K and thanks for all that you did for us, wouldn’t have wanted to be in Florida without you.

Jenn was admitted to the ER and the first few scans revealed that she didn’t actually have kidney stones at all. Instead she had an interesting little problem called mesenteric lymphadenitis and an ovarian cyst. They decided Jenn would start on antibiotics and remain in the hospital for a 23-hour period of observation.

We were excited that our emergency room nurse was Haitian, that is until we realized that 60% of the hospital staff was Haitian. But I mean, it was still cool…

I swear it couldn’t have been more convenient if the doctors themselves had planned it but Jenn starts having diarrhea. They decide to do some stool cultures. They also decide that since Jenn’s fresh out of Haiti she probably has cholera.

She was placed on contact precautions meaning that everyone, except for me, had to gown, glove, and mask up before touching her. Nothing like isolation to make a person feel special.

The fact that we had just stepped off a plane departing Haiti was hard for a lot of people to understand. In fact, aside from a few pats on the back, most of the doctors treated us as if we were crazy, insane, and incredibly irresponsible. Why didn’t Jenn have a general practitioner, a gynecologist, a regular PAP smear, a home address?

Somehow, the hospital staff caught on to the fact that Jenn was a humanitarian and that I was a nurse. Someone, somewhere had decided that if Jenn had been given the opportunity to answer the following questions she would reply as such.

What you should know about me: I’m a humanitarian.

What's important to me during my stay: Good care.

Hilarious.

I definitely had to flex my nursing muscle and advocate for Jenn in a big way. The nurses were slow to start medication and fluids and rarely made an appearance. The doctors could have done a better job of communicating to us and to each other and the surgeon should definitely not have attempted to remove Jenn’s appendix without first consulting with her.

It’s okay though, while we the doctors and nurses neglected us, we had some quality Amy-Jenn time.

They did a few more blood test, ultrasounds, urine analysis, and then we left. The final word was that they didn’t quite understand exactly what was responsible for Jenn’s swollen lymph nodes in the abdomen although she did have giardia, a common parasitic infection in Haiti. She did have a ruptured ovarian cyst which could have been responsible for the appendicitis-like pain and the fluid visualized on the CT scan and ultrasound. Her liver and spleen were enlarged.

After less than satisfactory care Jenn received at the hospital we were more than ready to leave Friday morning. I promise I let her sleep in her hospital bed most of the time. This picture can serve as proof that I did get some COTP related emails completed while we waited.

Finally, we were free and clear… and Paul and Kelsey picked us up out in front of the hospital. They were so great! They took us to Chilli’s and Walmart and back to their apartment to rest for a bit. Yes, Jenn did drink Dr. Pepper at Chilli’s and yes, I did buy me some marshmellows. Paul and Kelsey’s apartment was lovely and the views were gorgeous.

We just missed Haiti. We missed the babies. We missed Maria.

So we jumped in taxi and wound up at the Miami airport within 45 minutes before an evening flight to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. We jumped on it.

On Saturday morning we were 3 hours short of arriving in Haiti via bus when the fatigue of the past week hit us like a brick wall. Jenn hadn’t showered in 5 days and I hadn’t showered in 4. Lets face it, we didn’t feel awesome and we looked worse. We woke up from a quick nap just as our bus was rolling through the familiar city of Santiago. Which brings me to the second God-moment of the trip. At practically the same time, Jenn and I both considered getting off the bus and spending the rest of the day sleeping in Santiago. I ran to ask the bus driver to stop the bus for us when Jenn noticed that we were directly in front of “our hotel” (a.k.a the sweet place we stayed with Loudjenca’s family). We spent 14 of the next 19 hours sleeping. It was PERFECT.

We made our way easily back to Haiti the next morning. I did get a “muffler burn” on my leg from our first moto ride but they tell me it makes me look hardcore. And I definitely earn points with the nannies when I share stories of navigating Haitian transportation without being ripped off. It’s the little things that make them smile. :)

It’s SOOOOO good to be home. And Jenn’s feeling just a little bit better. Our plan of action is to change Jenn’s diet, finish the antibiotics, take lots of Juice Plus, follow up with a urologist and an internist at Milot one month from now, do some blood tests in a few weeks, and check things out via ultrasound on a regular basis. I promise to take good care of her, still. I hope this post doesn't come across as too sarcastic or negative. I am truly thankful that we had access to the medical tests we were able to receive while in the states. It is definitely a privilege that not everyone has access to.

Jenn, I loved spending this week with you. But I think you know that already.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Oh Happy Day.

Next question. Have you ever prayed about something really hard, for a long time, with the confidence that God would hear and respond only to be completely blown away by just how He responded? Well, this weekend blew me away and i'd like to tell you about it.

First, let me introduce you to Loudjenca. Pictured below are her mother and father, Jertrude and Jonas.

I first met this family back in November. I was at our local hospital with a few of our children. I'd brought them there to be evaluated for various conditions by a visiting team of cardiologists and surgeons. Thankfully all went well for our kids and they weren't diagnosed with any major problems. Early that morning baby Loudjenca was evaluated by these same physicians. Her prognosis wasn't as promising. Jertrude and Jonas were told that their daughter had a serious heart condition and that surgery was their only hope. They'd never met me before nor did they have any idea what sort of help I'd be able to provide but, they were desperate. Hoping to offer their daughter a chance at life they introduced themselves and repeated what they'd been told. Did I have any connections? Could I help? We exchanged numbers and I promised to look into things. I figured I could at least email some people in the states and see what might come of it. A medical visa was a long shot...but not out of the question.

It's interesting. I am approached by a lot of parents who come telling tales of sick babies and sad situations. I've wondered in the past just how I'd be able to discern who to help, which cases to pursue. Thankfully, Loudjenca's parents pursued me. Within the week, Jertrude had called me a few times and even stopped by our place in Lagosette. It was obvious that Jertrude was going to fight for her daughter. I decided to fight too.

Haiti has neither the surgical facilities nor the surgeons to perform complex heart surgeries on children. Most children in Haiti with congenital heart defects don't make it. As I think back on the "heart babies" we've lost within the year I wish I wasn't so familiar with the truth of that statement. Precious Loudjenca is one of the fortunate ones simply because her parents had the means to travel to various hospitals for consultation. To receive treatment however, Loudjenca would have to leave the country.

To get a baby out of Haiti on a medical visa you need to have a letter written by a Haitian physician which states that absolutely nothing can be done in Haiti to treat the condition. You need documentation that the correct medical tests and scans have been performed to arrive at an appropriate diagnosis. You need a hospital and physician willing to provide free care, or a donor willing to cover the costs. You need a host family or housing to care for and accommodate the baby before and after surgery. You need a passport for the child and if possible their parents. This can prove most difficult. It was the day that Loudjenca's mother showed up a COTP carrying a manilla folder with some of the most important documents already completed that things really began looking hopeful. Loudjenca's mother and father had even made a risky trip into the DR so that she could have her heart evaluated via an echocardiogram at a state-of-the-art children's hospital. The echocardiogram results showed that she had a large hole in her heart between the two ventricles. As a result Loudjenca wasn't thriving. In November, at 3 months of age she weighed 7 lbs 10 oz. Her oxygen saturation was an unimpressive 72%. Surgery felt like an urgent need.

So we got started on passport paperwork and began hunting down heart surgeons. In enters Karen G. Karen is an amazing woman with a passion for getting kids life saving medical treatment. A few months prior Karen had made contact with the International Children's Heart Foundation. As it turns out this organization was sending a team of pediatric heart surgeons to Hospital Infantil, a children's hospital in Santiago, Dominican Republic. This was the same hospital that Loudjenca and her mother had traveled to for initial diagnosis. The team was set to arrive February 12th and would finish up on the 26th. Karen began a flurry of emails. What were the chances of Loudjenca receiving surgery in the DR in February.

Eventually we got confirmation from people involved with ICHF. They'd be happy to evaluate and operate on Loudjenca if indicated. Traveling to the DR for heart surgery seemed like the perfect solution for Loudjenca save for the fact that all parties would need passports. We faced many setbacks in the passport process...February 3rd, 4th, 5th...days ticked by. Our DR departure date was quickly approaching and here I'm the only one with a passport. My heart's just fine, thank you.

Somehow, God connected us to a man by the name of John H. John is a social worker and missionary in the DR. He'd recently helped two Dominican children obtain heart surgery through ICHF. He knew the doctors and also had many connections with officials in various consulates, embassies, and immigration offices in the Dominican, Port-au-Prince, and Cap Haitien. I don't know how he did it, or why he went to so much trouble to help, but John set out to obtain special clearance that would allow Loudjenca and her mother to enter the DR and travel to the hospital without passports.

For about a week and a 1/2 we didn't know when we were going to be able to enter the DR or how. For myself, Karen, John, and Rony (one of our Haitian adoption office workers) our days consisted of phone calls, letters, meetings, emails, lots of waiting, and prayer like you wouldn't believe. I'm thankful for Jenn. I can't count the number of times she sat and prayed with me for Loudjenca and the process. I often interrupted her during the day 3 or 4 times even. I'm sure she became good at recognizing my can-we-please-pray-for-Loudjenca face.

The surgical team had already been at Hospital Infantil for five days and we were still waiting for "authorization." I was beginning to worry that they might be completely booked solid with surgeries or that we wouldn't have enough time to complete all the pre-op tests and procedures as the days slipped by. I was just about ready to pack up the team and bribe my way into the country when I got the email from John that said everything was ready. We could enter the DR on Friday the 18th. I cried. I sat in front of my computer and shed a few happy tears. It felt so good to hear God say Yes, Yes I'm looking after Loudjenca, Yes you can go to the DR, Yes I've answered your prayers.

By this time, Jonas, Loudjenca's father had also been able to obtain both a passport and a visa. This was a surprise gift from God. I was shocked to hear the news that Jonas' passport had been printed and signed. Knowing that he would also be able to make this trip was such a blessing. He speaks excellent Spanish!

I know this has been a long story so far with far too many details.. but I think the details are important. God cares about the details, obviously. He cares about the hole in a 7 lb baby's heart and about the paperwork that lets her enter another country for medical care. Anyway, the story just gets better from here. I'm for real.

Friday morning was a rainy day, but it was a great day. Jenn had decided to go with me to the DR (someday I'll have to write a blog post purely dedicated to Jenn but basically she is another volunteer at COTP and we've become quite good friends. God clearly wanted it that way and we are both secretly extremely thankful). It was so much fun to share this experience with her and God revealed a lot to both of us during this trip. Rikerns drove us all in the red truck. After we picked up Rony, who had planned to tag along and help with what could easily become a difficult border crossing, we drove to Loudjenca's house. The three, plus baby, sat in the back. I wonder if they noticed how many glances I stole in the rearview mirror. Or how many times I turned around to smile at them. I just couldn't stop smiling. It was great to see Rony, an instrumental part of the process sitting next to the two expectant parents and baby Loudjenca, the reason for all of this madness.

We arrived at the border and things went relatively well. Rony talked our way through various Haitian checkpoints and chained gates until we'd made it to the DR side. There were plenty of opportunities for people to prevent Loudjenca and Jertrude from passing without passports, but it seemed that God softened hearts in the end and we were permitted to pass. At the Dominican entrance we were met by some gatekeepers that had obviously been told to watch out for this Haitian mom and baby and their American companion. We were directed into an office where we were issued our "special authorization." It was amazing seeing my Haitian family receive special treatment. I just never see that... none of my Haitian friends ever receive special treatment. It felt as if I was watching justice play out. Jertrude had tried to bring Loudjenca into the DR for an appointment the previous month. She was faced with the option of paying a ridiculous sum of money for the cause of corruption or turning around and heading back to Haiti. She chose the later. Now she was legally passing into the country and nobody was able to take advantage of her.

John had arranged for some missionary friends of his to pick us up when we were finished with immigration. They were waiting! We embarked on our 3 hour drive to Santiago. We passed at least 10 military checkpoints. Each time an armed man stopped our vehicle with the intent of checking passports I flashed our authorized document and our new missionary friend rattled off some sweetly constructed line about the baby and her sick heart. We were waved ahead everytime.

We arrived at the hospital at around 3 pm in the afternoon. Loudjenca's parents checked her in at the emergency room and were told that Monday morning would be a better time to come for an appointment. Not wanting to waste a moment I headed off to find those heart surgeons. By the grace of God I stumbled right into them. As I entered the main lobby I walked straight into an important looking group of English speaking professionals in lab coats giving a fundraising presentation about heart surgery for underserved children. Now I couldn't have been 100% sure but I was about 99% sure that one of these people would be able to help me. I suppose I became 100% sure when I was able to identify Dr. Ramirez, whom I knew to be the head cardiologist, by reading the inscription on his lab coat.

When I told a woman that I was here with a baby to be evaluated she responded immediately and sent one of the doctors to speak with me. They'd been waiting for us, he said. They would do an echo, now. Could I bring the baby, I asked. Of coarse, he responded. I literally sprinted to the emergency room on the other side of the hospital where I had left Loudjenca and her parents. Maybe I was afraid he'd change his mind about helping us if I didn't reappear with the child in a matter of seconds. A ridiculous thought, I know. He was still waiting. They took us upstairs and right away a doctor began the Echo. Now, I know you all might be used to this kind of prompt service but I've been operating in the Haitian health care system for awhile now and we wait all day, we get turned away, we hear the words "no," "not today," and "pay first," quite often. It was so refreshing to be assisted by people who seemed like they truly cared. A chorus of medical students surrounded Loudjenca during the Echo and held fun toys in front of her face to keep her cooing.

Then the doctor said 3 monumental words. We won't operate. Uhoh, I thought. Why? It didn't sink in until I heard the phrase repeated in Spanish. She doesn't need surgery. And then in Creole. Yo pa bezwen opere. She doesn't need surgery!

I walked closer to Loudjenca's Dad and he asked me if I'd heard to good news. Yes, I'd heard it and it was great news and Loudjenca's mom was smiling and so were many of the medical students. But for a second I was worried that maybe Loudjenca's mom would be upset that her daughter was now not going to receive surgery. Boy was I wrong!

Outside of the exam room. I was sitting with Jonas and Jertrude, and Loudjenca on my lap. Jertrude was lifting her hands and thanking God. She was praising the eternal Savior, her Lord. She said to me, "Amy I prayed for that! I prayed that when we arrived we would hear that she didn't need surgery anymore." That blew me away! God blew me away!

Here I was praying for the passports and our arrival and for God to keep her safe until surgery. But I never once thought to pray that she wouldn't even need surgery, period! The Lord gave us all such a wonderful gift that day. Not only the gift of life for Loudjenca and the gift of healing for her heart, but it was such a gift to be able to experience the power of his love like that...it was incredible. Well I've tried to describe it for you all but maybe I just can't. It was just too good. Too rich...too holy.

Not long after hearing the news we all jumped in a taxi together. By this time Jenn had joined us. She wasn't able to join us in the car and instead took a bus from Dajabon to Santiago. She made it to the hospital, despite Spanish language skills or a cell phone. Wow was I glad to see her!

We drove to a hotel and spent the night. The next morning the family was able to head home to Cap Haitien. There was nothing else to be done at the hospital. No more reason to be in the DR. We spent some time with healthy, happy, 12 lb Loudjenca in the lobby of the hotel before the family jumped back on the bus.

Jonas and Jertrude ate breakfast.

Jenn worked diligently, hoping to catch just one of Loudjenca's perfect smiles on camera.

Success.

I learned so much this weekend. I've experienced a ton of answered prayer recently. Literally, tons. I've developed these thoughts as a result. God doesn't need us to pray. He plan is not a function of whether or not we come up with good ideas and shoot them skyward. He will work things out for our good regardless o whether or not we take the time to ask him. But... when I do pray, I am able to reflect upon the "requests" I make and the situations I surrender before his throne... and the way he answers. Then, as I begin to recognize how God is working in my heart and in the people and situations I'm praying about it enriches my life and gives roots to my faith. I find that the more we pray the more I am filled with joy, gratitude, amazement, and thanksgiving. I'm pretty sure that busting at the seams with these four things may just make for a happy day, everyday.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

a quick recap.


Time? to blog?
Not so much.

We're all quite busy. In a good way. We have 41 beautiful babies and most of them are very healthy! Thank you all for your prayers. Sometimes I walk into the baby rooms in the mornings and just sense that specific babies have been covered in prayer. I really do feel a special covering of health and protection over COTP. :)

I went home for a few weeks during the holidays. It was wonderful to see friends and spend quality time with family. I had the privilege of attending Amber, a college friend, and Bernard's wedding. It was a gorgeous affair in snowy Indiana. The best part(s)? Spending time with some of my closest girls speeding down a toboggan run the night before the wedding and traipsing through Chicago in the days that followed...drinking coffee...playing games...
Home was nice too. There's nothing like good cooking. Christmas morning I had the luxury of just relaxing with my parents, grandparents, and brother. Most shocking? The boy's officially taller than me. Where was I when that happened?
Arguably the only thing I miss about living in the states is the opportunity to "go to church," to worship Jesus in the company of a large body God-followers. It was so great to spend time at Casas Church and Victory Christian Worship Center while I was in Tucson. I really haven't had the opportunity to attend church regularly in Haiti. Occasionally I'll sneak next door on Sunday mornings.

Every Sunday one of our nannies attends the village church. She takes with her our two most well-behaved 2-year-olds. Dressed to the nines the faithful 3 head next door with toddler Bibles, animal crackers, and 2 five goude coins for the offering plate. Sometimes things are calm enough around here for me to tag along. On other occasions I've attended a larger church in an adjacent village. The church is in walking distance but, if I drive the truck, the Lagosette crew can arrive at church in style!

The support I found in returning to Tucson pretty much blew me away. Thank you Casas church (CHEERS adult Bible fellowship). This amazing group of Jesus-loving adults sent a group down to Haiti in October. My mom headed up the team.
During the course of my trip home they took me on a shopping spree for supplies for the orphanage, helped one of our nannies in a HUGE way by purchasing all of her handcrafted jewelry, and held a soap drive.

We collected 535 bars of soap, which I have been steadily giving out to people in the community. Gotta love soap! Thank you again. I felt rich coming into Haiti with such a precious commodity.

I did stop in Minnesota as well. I went to meet the Bonnemas and some of the other board members and to hang out/talk-future-plans with Jenny and Jamie Groen. Thanks Bud and Jan, Jenny and Jamie. I so enjoyed spending time with your families.

That pretty much summarized my trip. I enjoyed seeing all of you wonderful people. I did however vow never to be away from the babies for more 3 weeks ever again. It was secretly rough.







Saturday, December 11, 2010

Lovelie's house.

It just started to RAIN. Normally, I don’t think too much about the rain and unlike most Haitien’s who might wait undercover for 45 minutes or even an hour I don’t hesitate to keep going about my business even if it means getting a little bit wet. What’s a little water?

This evening though, the rain is prompting me to blog as I remember my visit to Lovelie’s house a week ago.
Lovelie is an amazing little girl who according to her mom has been sick since infancy with one maladi after another. After seeing her living conditions, recognizing her lack of nutrition, and hanging out with her siblings that share some of the same skin infections and speak with the same small voice, rich with post-nasal drip, I can understand why she frequently falls ill.

I first met Lovelie and her mom at COTP. They had sat for literally hours on a bench in our receiving area while I ran around giving meds, getting juice prepared for our kids, handling some emergent diarrhea, making ORS, putting Cholera prevention posters up in the baby house… I can’t remember exactly what delayed my getting out to the gate to talk to Lovelie and Louise that morning but the point is that she waited...patiently. Even after they were finally sitting in our pharmacy I was called away to some other task. I offered an apologetic half-smile and promised to hurry back. She responded with pa pwoblem, m we ou barace anpil, m’ap tan ou.” “Don’t worry. I see you are very busy. I’ll wait for you,” she said with an inviting smile.

Trust me, this woman can smile!
I liked her instantly and my respect for her grew tremendously in the coming weeks. The day of our first meeting it was clear that Lovelie was going to need medical attention beyond what I could provide. We were able to help pay for her to go for consultation and analysis at the local hospital. On subsequent visits however, Louise and I we were able to talk candidly about her life and family and most pressing, her need for food to feed her 6 children.

"Li fe’m mal. Yo suffri anpil." “It hurts me,” she says shaking her head and looking at the ground. “They suffer so much.”

She wants to work and she thanks the Lord that she is strong and capable. “Don’t you see? I am tall. I am strong. I can work. If I had a little money I would do commerce. I would sell thing in the street in front of my house.”

Not wanting to pass up an opportunity to help a mother so willing and physically able to make things better for her family, I asked her how much she would need to buy the items needed to start commerce. After she listed the price of oil, matches, little sachets, and a big bag of rice I realized that, with only $20 USD to spare, I didn’t actually have the resources needed to get business off the ground. It was right about here, that I wished we had some solid microfinance-small-business-loan program in place. I realize that my gifts alone are not sustainable. But...Louise decided she would gladly accept these initial funds and buy what items she could. She thought maybe she tried to sell something that didn’t have as high an overhead as selling small bags of food.

Before she left I searched COTP for give-away food. Pudding, a few boxes of oatmeal, and fruit loops were all I could find. Not necessarily nutritious… but Lovelie tells me that the pudding was delicious.As it turns out Louise was only able to buy a portion of the supplies needed to begin commerce. She is keeping her purchases safe in her home in the meantime. And the pudding box is serving as a side table…Last week Louise came to ask me whether I liked avocados. She was hoping to bring me some at some point but wanted to first be sure I would accept the gift. She also offered me a chicken. She tells me it’s a skinny chicken though, so I should probably keep it for its eggs, rather than its meat. She invited me to her home and we set a date for Friday afternoon.

Here’s the tour.

Small, hey?

There’s a lot of potential for this family. Yes they have very little. But not nothing.
And yes… I did overhear her husband say that the kids hadn’t eaten yet today and did she have anything to give them? Answer: no. But I believe there is hope for tomorrow.

Louise is a smart woman and with the right tools I know she will be able to create a better life for her family. Her main problem at the moment is that the minute she earns/finds/receives even the smallest sum of money she is faced with a myriad of tough choices.

Should she pay pending school fees? Buy new books?
The director at her children’s school had told her that morning that her children were not allowed to return to school until she purchased new workbooks for them to replace these that are torn. But hey, at least her kids were in school this year, even if they don’t have an opportunity to return.

Hospital fees? Her husband needs a cardiologic exam as an undiagnosed heart condition keeps him from leaving the home or even standing for long periods of time.
But at least her husband is there, alive, kind, supportive, and a good father.

Clothes? Soap? Shoes?
Food for her children? Supplies for her future business?
There are other things she could consider that would be nice, but don’t take priority over the above-mentioned items such as cement to rebuild this weather torn home or a second bed. I was told that when it rains the entire family of 7 (1 child not pictured, 1 child lives elsewhere) is obligated to share the small bed. Rather this, then on a flooded floor.

It’s early in the morning now as I finish this entry and it's been raining all night. I can’t help but think that Lovelie and her siblings are probably cold and might even be wet. And I can’t be certain when they had their last meal...

But it’s a
Family. Together.
And the kids are happy.

And they live in a good area.
With the goal to rebuild. Better.
Yes, there’s definitely hope for my friends Louise and Lovelie.

Please pray for these friends of mine and others in similar tough situations. Thanks!

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Confession.

I like to follow blogs. It's sort of my new thing.

Why the obsession?

I'm in to blogs primarily because I'm always inspired. Well maybe not always. Sometimes I come away challenged to pursue my maker more deeply as He pursues me. Sometimes I read stories that make me want to cry or pray or cry and pray. Sometimes I'm just plain encouraged. Sometimes I learn a thing or two (http://sleepydoctor.blogspot.com/). Sometimes a blog will be playing music, that makes me want to dance... you just never know! See..? Blogs are fun!

I love to read about how God is stirring in the hearts of my friends in different parts of the world and how he is working mightily in the ministries of people I've never met.



My so-called Haiti blogs have been a great way to stay connected with others doing life and ministry in Haiti. Maria and I are always getting ideas about how to serve people better. Now I hope this isn't too awkward because I've never actually met the people that author such wonderful accounts of life in Haiti. But, if you're curious, here's some more Haiti...


And now for the often-cheesy I-blog-because-statement. Simply, I get to see my Father's heart everyday in this little corner of Haiti and I can't be quiet about it. I want to share and I want Him to receive the glory.

Nick and Nikki, a husband and wife team and fellow long term volunteers at COTP also blog Their posts are actually current and much more frequent. I love hearing Nikki recount events that we've encountered together. They both do a great job. If you ever really want to know what is going on in Haiti/here at COTP it wouldn't hurt to check in with them first. Children of the Promise also has its very own blog. Check that out if you want to read about new admits and see which children are being reunited with their biological families.

Nick and Nikki Stolberg
Children of the Promise

Enjoy!



*In light of the current violence and political unrest in Haiti I thought I'd include just one more link. This is an eye-opening blog for pictures, politics, etc. This journalist's images and information are centered in Port-au-Prince but often, what plagues people in PAP plagues people country-wide. http://goatpath.wordpress.com/


Thursday, December 2, 2010

It's official.

Today was fun. Today I was reminded, as I am on so many other occasions, how much I love my life here in Haiti. I love Haiti. I love it for all its shortcomings. I love it's people and it's culture. Haiti's problems are complex but day to day life remains simple. Hard, but simple. Simple has a nice pace to it. I love that pace.

I love the children. I don't mind waking up to their cries at night and I love to hear their happy laughter during the day. I love to hold them when they are sick. I love to cuddle them when they're not. This life is fun. Of course there is always the other side of the coin. I shared about that "other side" earlier this month so this post will be ALL positive.

Like I said, today was fun!
The plan: a trip to the hospital with 3 precious babies.
The goal: three TB tests, two chest xrays, one poop test, one urine test, one CD4 count, one doctor consult, and a rendevous with the American doctor we saw on Tuesday.

I took off early in the red machin with 3 babies. One in a car seat, one in a Bumbo, and one in a little chair that probably served as a car seat sometime in the early 1970s. The two babies and one big kid (age 2) looked so sharp in their nice clothes and freshly braided hair that I had to take a picture. I so wish I could share the photo! The four of us drove in to the next village to pick up what I thought was going to be one person, the nanny that was going to help me take care of the babies. Just four extra people later, we were off towards Milot hospital. Transit time was increased by a few minutes after we attempted to travel down a road that I'm going to have to officially proclaim: impassable! Rendered such by one too many a heavy rainfall. When we had to turn around half-way through what we call "the sugar cane shortcut" the ladies all apologized profusely for having led me astray. They would have easily passed by moto or on foot (the two main methods of transit) and hadn't considered the difficulties the truck would present. After I turned the truck around and headed back the way we came the women joked with me about the gwo chofe (literally, big driver) I'd become. Back in April Jamie taught me how to drive the truck, which has a manual transmission, and it was some of these same women who were with me on my first solo drive. I just barely made it through that same route without getting stuck in the mud. Let's just say it was a wild ride for my passengers. As it goes, I'm usually able to judge my driving by the number of people that breath out a "Mesi Jezi" (Thank you Jesus) when we arrive at our destination. Total for today's drive: zero!

There's something special about traveling in the company of Haitians when I'm the only foreigner. I actually love it. Not that I don't love hanging out with my fellow missionary friends. but I learn so much from the nannies when its just me and them, speaking Creole, talking about life in Haiti. Which brings me to the highlight of my day.

We were sitting outside of the laboratory waiting for my big kid to pee in a cup. I needed him to pee and poop sometime in the next 4 hours as laboratory results are returned to the doctors at 3 PM. I knew 3 of the women and we were surrounded by some other adults who were simply making the best of the long wait by reclining on otherwise vacant laboratory benches. They talked to pass the time. They shared stories of faith, hardship, and humor and although I didn't say much, I laughed with them. Amongst it all I heard a statement that made me smile.

I had just stopped paying attention when the conversation turned to me. Even though I frequent the hospital I still stick out like the white person I am and I can tell people find it curious to see me walking around with Haitian babies draped around my neck, nestled on my hip, and clinging to my skirt. In the same way, this particular group of waiters was wondering about my nationality. One of our nannies answered their comments with what sounded like pride and certainty, "Li pa American, non, Ayitien li ye." She's not American. She's Haitian. Period.

"Ohhhhh.... you're Haitian, are you?" said the waiting woman.

I tried hard to conceal the huge smile on my face when the waiting woman looked at me and nodded with approval. It felt pretty special to hear those words coming out of this particular nanny's mouth.

Later I heard the waiting woman tell another wondering woman that I was Haitian.

Maybe next time I'll correct them but today... I think I'll go on being Haitian.