Haiti, Heartbreak, and Hopeful Pursuit

The phone rings. The texts begin.  The e-mail notifications rapidly grow in size and so does the knot in my stomach.  Just a few days before take off, and I know what’s happening.  The lump in my throat is familiar and the swirling of all things around me feels too comfortable. I know this feeling. I know what this means. 

I haven’t read an e-mail or a text, but the name attached to the incoming call on my phone tells me everything I need to know before even answering.  The subject line of the email gives me every bit of information that my heart can stand in the moment and the texts only filled with emjoi characters tells me that no one else has words either. 

I answer the phone, “What’s wrong?” without even a hello. 
“Meg,” the other voice says, with intense trepidation, “it’s the embassy.” 
“No,” I reply, “please don’t finish your sentence…”
My eyes begin to well up with tears and I feel like my stomach has been punched. 
“We’re grounded,” she says.  

For the fourth time in a year, we’re grounded. We cannot fly. We are not allowed. We are on restricted travel to our favorite place; the place that grew me, the place that introduced me to real life, the place that holds the people I care about as if we share a bloodline and a last name. 

​While we hadn’t shared the news publicly, our trip was set to take off in just a few short days. We had been cleared, and while assuredly safe are not the words I would attach to this particular adventure, we would be protected, cared for, and kept safe to the best of our family’s ability. 

It has been 13 months since we have seen our family. 
13 months since we have seen our friends. 
13 months of havoc, turmoil, chaos, political and civil unrest, and uncertainty. 
13 months of borderline famine. 
13 months of an oil and gas crisis. 
13 months of “what if,” and “we should..” and “can we..” 
13 months of tears and prayers and fists banging on the floor with cries of “Please, Jesus…” 

My introduction to regular life in Haiti was nothing short of its own miracle – I didn’t even want to go in the first place all those years ago – and now I can’t imagine my life being anything but bi-national. When your heart is split in two different places, life feels big and full and mostly fun – until it doesn’t. Like right now. 

Our life in Haiti brings me the most joy, the most fulfillment, and the most intense feelings I have ever felt.  The highest highs and the lowest lows have come as a result of our deep love for a nation of people who we know God loves and cares for and provides for – but it’s hard to see Him now. At least, for my North American mindset. But, if I asked a Haitian where they saw Jesus today, they’d be able to tell me 5,399 places. Because God is present.  Because He cares.  Because His ways are not our ways. Because we have to view everything through the lens of “His thoughts are too lofty for us too attain…”

We serve 50 churches, 20 schools, an orphanage, a widow’s ministry and  feeding program, a New Mom’s Club complete with health care and clinics, the beginnings of a trade school, a micro-loan program, a clean water initiative which is mostly complete, and have kids now in University studying medicine and business. The joy of my life is seeing God use dreams and visions and resources to the betterment of His people. We spend a lot of our time stateside using language like “what if…” and “you guys, could we…” and “okay so just hear me out..” and “this might be crazy but I think…” and “what if God did this…” 

The day to day looks like 64 children who need to be fed and go to school; in the proper uniforms, with the proper supplies, and the proper manners.  It looks like 47 Pastors who need encouragement; because they’re doing ministry with no roofs, no resources, and sometimes no food or clean water. It looks like partnerships with incredible outdoors companies like Sawyer, who help eradicate cholera in areas of this nation where our friends live, and whose people are etched in our veins forever. It looks like lots of thank you notes and emails to our really big Dayspring family who always have our back. But sometimes, sometimes, it looks like dreams. It looks like bright futures and big plans and hard questions. It looks like “what if,” and “what now?” and “wait, let’s actually do that.” In a really intense meeting about our future one time, Pastor Ronald said to us, “You know, sometimes God just calls you to something, and that’s that.” 

While we are all admittedly heartbroken today, we know this:
His plans are not our plans.
His ways are not our ways. 
He has numbered our steps and we will choose to trust Him. 

Haiti is experiencing heartbreak of epic proportions, something we were discussing this morning that we will probably never fully understand. 
According to the Miami Herald, “The last time the State Department issued a Level 4 Travel warning for Haiti was on Feb. 7, 2019 when civil unrest broke out and forced diplomats and Haitians to stay at home. At the time, the Canadian and French governments also announced an increase in their travel warnings for the country.”

We were in Haiti that day, packing up our things from an incredible weekend at our Annual Convention when we were rushed out of our house and swept away to the airport. It became that unsafe for us, that fast.  I will never forget that day as long as I live. It was a whirlwind of activity and what we experienced and saw on our trek to the airport will be etched in my mind forever. 

But Jesus, I wrote in my journal while on the plane to American soil, I get to leave.  My friends actually live here. They can’t leave. Jesus, please show up for them. 

And our friends will tell you that He has shown up for them time and time again…
…and that He continues to do so. 

The Herlad reports, “With millions of Haitians potentially facing famine, the United Nations on Wednesday launched an emergency humanitarian appeal seeking $253 million to help the most vulnerable and in need of assistance.“The situation in Haiti has seriously deteriorated,” Bruno Lemarquis, the U.N humanitarian coordinator for Haiti, told journalists in New York, noting that he knows it will not be easy to raise a quarter of a billion dollars for Haiti. “We are aware of many competing priorities in the world. We’re also aware of the donor fatigue and donor concerns when it comes to Haiti because of the lack of progress over many years. But we have to look at those numbers and think of the affected people. They are in very high numbers. “This is in the middle of the Caribbean,” he added. “Something needs to be done.”

At Dayspring, we will continue to fight for Haiti and her people. 
We will continue to battle in prayer and with our resources. 
We will continue to plan and prepare and wait…
…in hopeful expectation. 

Grounded or not grounded…
…on Haitian soil or American…
…speaking english or kreyol… 
I am so thankful to labor alongside the dreamers and the doers, the fixers of broken baby dolls, deflated soccer balls, and sometimes, broken hearts. 
Sometimes, God just calls you to something, and that’s that. 

If you would like to GIVE to this crisis, please know that 99.5% of our income goes directly to God’s people in Haiti. (.5% is administrative costs like envelopes, stamps, printer ink for tax letters, etc).
Visit www.dayspringministrieshaiti.org and click DONATE. Thank you!