Frustrations
There was a time when air travel was actually enjoyable. Those times are a distant memory. I discovered that again, moving our group to Haiti. First, we found that we had to bring an extra van to New York to accomodate all of our luggage--a van generously supplied by the Pomeroy's
Then, when we arrived at the airport early Saturday morning, we found that tickets for two of our party had been inexplicably canceled by the airline. And when we asked for the airline to help us--an ariline headquartered in Atlanta and beginning with the letter "D"--well, let's just say that they didn't. And so, I'll be heading back to Port au Prince Airport early Sunday morning to pick up those two folks after they spent the night in Miami.
To say that this all was frustrating is an understatement.
However, when we stepped off the plane and began to drive around, everything fell into perspective. We drove by tent city after tent city. And these were not small affairs, but large fields completely packed with tents. The sight was truly overwhelming. The heat, the general discomfort--nothing really changed for five months--talk about frustrating!
We ended up on top of a mountain overlooking the city. From up there, all the features were so far away that you couldn't see any of them. Definitely, the tent cities were not really visible, at least in all the misery that was so apparent up close to them. "It's how God sees," a vendor said, and I thought, "I hope not." I hope God is more aware of what's happening up close.
We are staying in a lovely place, high up in the mountains, removed from the heat and the noise of those tent cities. And while we were getting ready for dinner, the sky opened up, and we were treated to an incredible storm--thunder, lightning, rain coming down in sheets. It was good news up here. We'll use the rain water, and the guys in our group were a big help collecting it, bucketful by bucketful. And we had a substantial building to keep us safe.
But I couldn't help but think of all those people down in those tent cities. They have no lovely house in which to escape the storm. All that they owned was there in those tents in that storm.
We create so much stress for ourselves. Things don't work out right--the way we planned--and it can seem that the whole world is falling apart, unfair. But so much of what we experience is really simply an inconvenience, especially considering the real suffering that so many of our brothers and sisters face in this world.
Bottom line, I realize this evening as I sit here writing, is that God has taken care of us all--some of us in Miami tonight--some of us here on a stormy mountain outside of Port au Prince. And that's something for which to be genuinely grateful.
And tomorrow, we'll get up, collect the two other members of our team, join together here on this mountaintop to worship God with Haitian brothers and sisters. Later in the day, there will be a soccer game, and a time to plot what else we want to do with those soccer players. But that's for tomorrow, when we hope to be able to file a video too so that you can see what we're seeing.
In the meantime, may the God who watches over all of us be close to you wherever you are.
Ke Bondye beni-w!
