When one is separate from the object of their desire or affection, odd things begin to happen. The mood can darken, smiles can be less frequent, every little thing brings up a memory of the time one had with the love. One friend told me that during an absence from someone you love, your heart tricks your mind into either only remembering the best about the relationship, or remembering such an immense amount of good that is over-weighs whatever negative might have been experienced. The obviously best conclusion to a set of the proceeding events is to reunite and dwell happily forever after. But that rarely is the outcome. My friends, my heart is sick for Haiti.
There are many little reasons why I currently miss Port Au Prince. The general response from my extended family and strangers is “Wow, I’ll bet you are glad to be back!” I want to reply, “Well, when something you love is taken away so suddenly it is hard to be glad right away.” Now do not misunderstand. Life in Haiti was the hardest I have ever known. I was not always rosy and chipper and delighted with the daily trials I had to face. But as I said, the heart helps in overlooking those things.
I miss waking up to the sounds of people chattering on their way to their market stands, farmers yelling and directing their cows and pigs that they lead on long rope leashes, the neighbor maids cheerfully singing their off tune renditions of popular Haitian songs, children kicking cans or various pieces of trash in makeshift soccer games.
I miss texting Jennifer funny mishaps and questions on how to ask my Creole ONLY speaking driver to take me to a certain store or coffee house. I miss driving through pothole streets with insanely brave drivers honking their hellos as I take my babes to church. I miss Port Au Prince Fellowship with the beautiful mix of people from all different countries- people all sharing the same heart and desire to reach the hearts and souls of the Haitian people. I miss my brothers, SonSon, Davidson, Kenty, Jon, Alex, Absolom, and the safe, loved feeling I felt as they carried my babes to and from various destinations and led us through the mazes of the back streets of Port Au Prince. Their smiles and hugs and kisses always brightened up my day.
I miss the sense of purpose as I made food everyday in large amounts of whatever we could afford so there was always a meal ready for whomever God or Abe brought my way. Hauling my medic bag with various remedies and medicines everywhere-knowing that at least one person would be sent to me each outing whom God could use my hands for.
Purpose and direction can change so quickly, my friends. In a matter of seconds God can, and often does, reveal HIS will over the plans and hopes you have made and take as sealed and set in stone. Two years in one place can turn into a mere four months. Arrangements made for serving or celebrating can be voided.
Last night I had a dream that I was deep in a tropical forest. I was alone with my babes living in a small shack with a banana reef roof and a clear stream of water flowing by. My babes were gathering coconuts while I washed laundry in the stream and sang a Creole lullabye to two beautiful Haitian baby girls that were strapped to my back. I closed my eyes for a moment and drank in the sounds and smells around me, and when I opened them everything changed. I was in a cool, clean American home with the sounds of busy streets around me. Sitting around me at a large beautiful wooden table were my babes and four other children I didn’t recognize whose facial features did not match the Barlow Bunch. They were busy laughing and doing school. I realized that in my arms was a beautiful white baby boy who was smiling up at me with oxygen tubing attached to his sweet, broad face below his adorable brown, slanted, squinty eyes. The doorbell rang and I rose to open the door to a rough looking woman whom I invited in and shared coffee, prayer and left overs with as if we were old friends. Everything around me was so different from where I was a blink prior, but I was just as comfortable and filled with the same content sense of purpose.
I have had a hard time adjusting to the idea of being back in the states. While everything was so far from perfect in Haiti, there are ways that it seemed more safe and secure. Abe had an amazingly rewarding job. I had a house furnished with all it could hold. Love and purpose was all around me. This morning while I drank my coffee and pondered the vividness of my dream, God spoke to me. “This is your place. You are no more less use to me here in the backwoods of the Ozarks than you were in there heart of Port Au Prince. You are where I have called you. Leave behind the bitter, unforgiving thoughts towards those whom you feel took away your mission. Realize that I have moved you where you are now. Continue to follow Me and I will continue to bless you, no matter where you happen to be. The world is small and the need is great. Trust me and I will continue to fill your heart and move your hands.”
Later today when I walk down to the Uelands house to use their internet, I will start the task I have avoided for so long and change the name and outlook of the BarlowBunch Blog. While no longer melting into Haiti, my prayer is that we will continue to melt into His will and follow His path for us, no matter where it may lead. <3
