Like most days in Haiti, we awoke early and made our own breakfasts. We hadn’t discovered the store that had opened nearby yet, so a lot of us had some sort of mixture of protein shakes, energy bars, or other items we had brought with us. Thankfully we were able to “ease” into the day though, as it was a Sunday morning and culturally people there (like most places) don’t do much. There are many churches there, but again…like in the U.S., not all of them are all that great in being beacons of Jesus, and instead are bogged down in religiosity.
Eventually we drove back through the madness of the city to a tent city located near a Bible church.
It was exciting and humbling to finally set-up our first makeshift mobile medical clinic. As soon as we were there we were SURROUNDED by children who wanted to touch and talk to us. Most of these fortunate kids still had a parent or two who had survived the quakes, but many didn’t own anything of value. One little boy saw that I had a soccer ball with me, and immediately began saying (sweetly, not aggressively), “You. You. Give me Ball-o?” He probably asked me this over 100 times. Throughout the clinic he was never far away from me, staring, begging, imploring…saying “You, You.” Meanwhile we served in our predetermined roles of triage, docs, Rx, and pastoral. My role was to repeatedly pray with/for anyone who desired it. My heart broke repeatedly as I heard stories of people who lost loved ones in the quakes. One guy shared that he lost 18 family members in one building, and only he and his little boy survived. Story after story…it’s was too much for my brain to process. In fact I never really asked for people’s stories because everyone had one, and I sensed that it wasn’t my role to ask about stories unless someone wanted to tell e. I did ask if I could pray with and for them…and if they had specific requests wanted to be lifted up with them too. It was a pleasure to sit with, hug, and pray for people that we were able to minister to by caring for them medically and spiritually. My heart was broken again and again for parents who were now homeless, often sick, and jobless. They don’t love their kids any less than I love mine. I hurt for them.
We eventually went back to the TNM house later that day before it started getting dark, and our team scurried to clean up for a needed good meal. Team time was a sweet mixture of worship, testimonies, and directions for the next day. Afterwards many of us stayed up late sorting pills for the next days clinic.
If I had to describe my place on the team, it would be “Papa Bear.” There is probably a better moniker because I’m not old enough or have enough gray hair to be a Papa…and Dr. Jeff may have fit this title as well as I…but the role I was playing seems to have somewhat fit.
As was my habit, I was the last to bed that and every other night we were in Haiti. My role in checking on everybody probably meant less sleep and definitely fewer showers in addition to praying with and for everyone…and just being “available” to lend my computer or process the days events in smaller groups. It also meant reminding people to hydrate themselves (we all forget) even when they didn’t feel like it, and to pass around the germX on a regular basis. In many ways my job was to stay out of the way while greasing the wheels of spiritual, emotional, and physical health and efficiency for the team. I LOVE that role. Occasionally I had to take the reigns and lead the team directly, but hopefully my teammates often didn’t even realize that I was serving them in the midst of serving the Haitian people. To me, the role I was serving in was the most enjoyable because it was an opportunity to attempt to do simple and humble Christ-like leadership. I’m not always good at being simple or humble, but I love the few and fleeting moments when I get it right. Only God and my teammates would know how well I did though.
Sleep finally came to late in the evening after some personal quiet time. And I slept hard.
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