The epic adventure called 'life'

            “Watch your step,” I called as I hopped over the large pothole.  Glancing over my shoulder, I did a quick headcount.  1, 2, 3, 4, 5.  I turned my attention back to the road just in time to notice (and avoid) the large wheelbarrow carrying a huge piece of raw meat…the back leg of a cow, to be exact.  Unfortunately, not all of my missionary friends were lucky enough to notice the wheelbarrow in time to dodge it…

            Pushing through the crowded street, the five of us made our way through the food market, past countless vendors selling everything from pencils to apples to raw meat, and finally into the clothing market.

            After two hours of shopping, bartering, filming, and peeing in a cup (not me), we sat down to ice-cold cokes at one of our favorite (…one of our only…) restaurants.

            From there, the plan was simple.  Quick stop at the tourist market, pick up a few more groceries, and head home.  Well, that was the plan before the car broke down three times, before our one stop at the tourist market became two, and before we realized that the phone store was only 2 blocks away…you get the idea.

            By the time we made it home, we had been gone for 7 hours.  My shoulders were the same color as the tomatoes in the market.  We were hot and sweaty and exhausted.  But we were happy.

            “I think that was one of my best days here!” one of my friends said enthusiastically.  I had to agree – it was pretty amazing.

The moral of the story?

Every day is an adventure.  Every day is a blessing.  Every day is a gift.

Live it.  Love it.  Cherish it.  Enjoy it.

And steer clear of raw meat.

A cross-cultural God in my cross-cultural life.

I love speaking Creole. (Usually.) I love the way it sounds – elegant like French, but also unique and exotic. I love knowing that by speaking a foreign language I can follow Christ's call for my life.  I love that Haitians don't expect the foreigner to speak their language, and so when I do, they feel loved and appreciated.

But I have to admit, usually by the end of the day, my tongue is tied, my words don't come out right, and I'm just plain tired.  I get frustrated when I can't express myself the way I want to.  I want to build deep relationships, but I just can't put together a sentence with the same care and precision that I can in English.

I go to Haitian church almost every Sunday.  Church here is mostly Creole, but partially French.  The songs from my Creole/French hymnal are beautiful.  The worship is genuine.  The praise is real.

I really love going to Haitian church.

But today, instead, I went to American church at a ministry called Children of the Promise (COTP).  Every Sunday morning at 10, all of the missionaries who work at COTP come together for a time of worship, teaching, and (at least today) communion.

Going to church this morning was like a breath of fresh air.  It was such a blessing to worship in my own language.  To hear a sermon and not have to translate it in my head.  To sing songs I have known for years.  To linger after service and chat with my fellow missionaries…in English.

It’s a hard line to walk between engaging in the Haitian culture as thoroughly as possible, and preserving my own culture (and sanity) as I live in a community of Americans and Canadians.  I haven’t figured out exactly how to walk this line yet.  But until then, I will continue to be thankful for what I have.

When I go to English church, to be thankful for the chance to worship in my heart-language.

When I go to Haitian church, to be thankful for the chance to immerse myself in the beautiful worship of this amazing country.

When I dive into ministry, to be thankful for my Creole training and the chance to use it to glorify God.

When I come home, to be thankful for a community of missionaries who understand each other in a way that is unique to our ex-pat life.

And most of all, to be thankful always for a God who crosses cultural boundaries, language barriers, and differing lifestyles.  I serve a God who sees my skin color, my language, my culture and says they are beautiful.  And He sees Haitians’ skin color, language, and culture and says they are beautiful.  And He sees these two cultures as different – and that’s beautiful.  And He sees them as united in Him – and that’s beautiful too.

What a God we serve!