Tacked to my bedroom mirror is a crumpled note:
"Help me to pray God for my ministry and my family. – Pastor Pierre L. Gerry, Port-au-Prince, Haiti."
Pastor Pierre had rushed this note to me in July after he and I had walked and talked—I in broken French, he in broken English—around an orphanage compound in the central area of Haiti.
Since July 28, when I returned from a brief trip to Haiti, this note has humbly brought me back to the beautiful Caribbean nation.
Since July 28, this note has inspired prayers and service in the various settings of my daily walk with Christ.
Since July 28, this note has served as a tangible connection to the global Body of Christ.
Since Jan. 12, this note has haunted me.
Since Jan. 12, I have helplessly wondered whether I'm reading the words of a man still living at "No. 6, Rue Christ," or if Pastor Pierre's body lies beneath the rubble that buried an estimated 200,000 Haitians.
Since Jan. 12, I have angrily questioned how this man with whom I dialogued about ministry in his country, the poorest in the Western hemisphere, could possibly be among those accused by fellow Christian leaders of somehow causing the earthquake. For it is Pastor Pierre and his Haitian brothers and sisters who figure most prominently among my spiritual inspirations.
My travels to Haiti this summer were brief. I journeyed there with a small group of representatives from the Christian hunger relief organization I serve. Our short stay included tours of clinics, orphanages, nutrition centers and all of the delightfully unpredictable roads in between.
We met people who had walked 10 hours for the care of a saintly nurse who, in her native United States, is qualified as a Registered Nurse, but in Haiti has become—out of sheer necessity—a general surgeon.
We met Claude, a man who proudly displayed his leathery palms—deeply callused from building an orphanage with his own hands.
We met children who, like their American counterparts, bring unwavering passion to their every soccer game, every song, every embrace.
We met Christ in Haiti.
We met Christ in the person of nurses, patients, orphanage directors, children and each other. We met Christ through unfathomable expressions of hope amidst conditions the world has written off as "abject poverty." We met Christ through the unconditional hospitality of the Haitian people.
I now meet Christ every morning when I reread the tattered note from Pastor Pierre. Every day I question what the note means for me, a privileged college graduate living in a comfortable section of south Minneapolis. I question how God calls my mind to a land apart from southeastern Minnesota and calls my feet to sidewalks far less paved than those in my neighborhood.
I question these things and pray that God would continually use the questions to propel my service.
I question, yet I know—and knew on July 28 and Jan. 12 and today—that Christ is present, both here and in Haiti, amidst our every tear and every prayer.
We are surely called to continue crying and praying for our brothers and sisters in Haiti, long after Jan. 12 and with deeper love and commitment than our worldly attention spans may allow.
"If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it." – 1 Corinthians 12:26.
I invite you to prayerfully consider donating to one of the many relief organizations that are still tirelessly serving the Haitian people. To view a list of these organizations, visit www.charitynavigator.org
Be the first to comment on this article!