Madanm Silfiz was in the worst situation of anyone we have taken in. We found her living in a hut in the jungle alone. She laid in her bed all day due to being blind, not being able to walk, and having no wheelchair or crutches to help her. There was a nearby family that would check on her, give her food occasionally, and sometimes bathe her, but this family didn’t have much patience or love for Madanm Silfiz.
God is so good! He has given us this place for people who otherwise have no one to care for them, and we are able to care for them not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well.
“I certainly didn’t plan for a worldwide pandemic to happen in my first year back in the field,” I shared with her. “None of us knew that this would happen,” she said. “But the Lord knew. And He still called you.” She encouraged me to sit with that, not as a reason to either stay or go, but rather to really give everything back to the Lord and seek Him in each situation.
I hate doing the dishes. I always have and I probably always will. I don’t like how long it takes, I really don’t like the way it makes my hands feel, and I really really don’t like touching the soggy fragments of food caught in the drain. But a quote from Mother Teresa is making me rethink things.
This life in Haiti is one of extremes. One moment rain is pouring down in sheets and the next, the sun comes out and scorches the earth dry again.
I’m in a country I’ve never been to and I’m staying for the year; it’s really hot and there is no A/C; I don’t know where anything is; and I don’t speak the language. As I write this down I have to admit: that’s terrifying! … Living in Haiti is hard. I can do hard things though, with the help of Jesus.
Fr. David reminds us that Christ has called us here to serve the people of Haiti, but we ourselves are not Christ. We are fully human and must establish and keep boundaries and set priorities. Jesus is the one who saves, not us.
On Saturday February 9th, Team Haiti was excited to be leaving for the mission field after being one of the last teams to set out. We said our final goodbyes to our community in Louisiana and hit the road. Our fun in the van on the way to New Orleans was soon interrupted by news of “manifestasyons” happening in Port-au-Prince, the capital of Haiti and the airport we were meaning to fly into the next day.
I knew he was just trying to manipulate us again. I had to protect my heart. I couldn’t possibly endure that pain and hurt again. My husband thought he deserved a second chance. I didn’t.
We first heard about Juanes Antiego through a friend who came by the house asking for food for a man whose “foot was bad.” Grabbing the last of the rice we had and my Combat Medical Kit, I hopped on my moto and drove the long ride to his house.
Best of all, we made memories together and heard the voice of God calling us to leave our riches and to comfort and serve his poor.
This is Madam Eliana. She has been a dear friend of the FMC missionaries in L’Asile, Haiti for years now, and is just as eager to spend time with us new missionaries as she is to share stories about those from three years ago. On our visits to her humble Haitian home, we sit on the front porch, the place she often chooses to sleep because she prefers the cool air and solid ground to the bed inside the dark front room.
Many times when I think of love and what love is in practice, I think of when I was dating my wife and our first kiss, or playing with my kids so hard we collapse in a fit of laughter, or hanging out with my best friend over a glass of whiskey. But love is not always that romantic or…
Suffering is not something I encountered often in the United States. Emotional suffering I am closely acquainted with, having suffered with depression for most of my adult life, and still continuously fighting that battle. But physical suffering was new to me when we moved to Haiti. I knew that in theory – “out there” – there were people who suffered. I didn’t see them face to face until I moved here though, and even then I didn’t truly see suffering until we had spent more time in the villages that surround us.
[Callie Shinkle recently went on a medical mission trip with FMC in Haiti. Her reflections are published here with her permission.] Peering out the window of the plane as it circled over Haiti, I attempted to catch a glimpse of the country that I would call home for the next week. I saw stunning mountain views and luscious pockets of green,…
In the last month one of my hardest struggles was the question, “What do I do about the naked man eating my garbage?”
The Lord has been speaking loudly and clearly to me and Beaux these last few weeks about exactly what ministry he wants us to dive into here in L’Asile, and we are excited to share it with you! The first few months at a new mission post are spent learning the language, learning the town, getting settled in, figuring out where…
Ari was the naughtiest child I had ever met. When we first met Ari (age 6) we were shocked. It was as if his concupiscence was completely in charge. He would intentionally break things while you watched; he would walk around town in his boxers; he would hit other kids in the head with rebar; he would throw rocks at adults;…