Torn

Jan 14, 3:00 a.m.

I wake up and look around. With nine people sleeping on the living room floor of the White's house, the place is pretty full. 

Everyone is sleeping. 

I pull myself off the couch and check on Jayden. He is sound asleep. A few minutes later I crawl back on the couch and fall into a deep sleep. I don’t feel the two tremors or even wake up when they occur.

At 5:30 a.m. I wake up again and hear Jayden. I pull him out of bed and hug him tight. I then find a spot for him beside me on the couch and we both fall asleep again. 

At 6:15 a.m. everyone is awake and we slowly sit up. Jason tells me about the tremors and I’m secretly glad I didn’t wake up. Now that I haven’t felt them for awhile myself I am not as on edge. Or maybe I’m just too exhausted to care. 

Julie makes pancakes for all of us and they are good. Jayden and I both eat one, but our stomachs have shrunk and after one we have no room for more. 

I put my glasses on even though I don’t normally wear them. The dust has really been bothering my contacts. As I get Jayden dressed he just can’t stop coughing. I hug him tight and try not to cry.

Once we are all dressed and our clothes and toothbrushes are put back in the suitcases we sit and wait. What now?

Mark Williams, our program manager comes knocking on the door several minutes later and tells us all the MAF families are meeting on his porch across the street. We slowly make our way over there. Two minutes into the meeting one of the phones we have that is on a different network rings. None of our other phones are working.

“It’s John Woodberry”, Amber says, and we all sit up a little straighter. Mark takes the call and comes back several minutes later to say that MFI (Missionary Flights International) is going to try to land at the Port au Prince airport again this morning at 9:30 to pick us up. Since it’s now after 7:00 a.m. everyone rushes to get their bags back in the vehicles and before I know it we are ready to leave again.

As Jayden and I sit in the vehicle, a group of little boys comes running over. “My friends!” I exclaim gladly, as I grab their hands. They latch onto me. These are the neighborhood boys all around the age of 6 that hang around outside the gate of our home. They help me pick grass for our rabbits and then I pay them in treats or little toys.

Am I ever glad to see all of them!

“Are your families okay?” I ask. “Yes”, they say, smiling broadly. I am so relieved. These children are poor, and I’m sure whatever houses they live in are not built well. I silently thank God.

Minutes later it’s time to leave and as we pull away, my heart breaks. With all three of us feeling sick, exhausted and emotionally spent, and with the no hospitals, no food, and security issues, I understand that it’s prudent to leave temporarily, but it’s still hard. What about Anoud and Denise and family, what about these children? I feel my heart being torn in two.

Just then Jason and Jayden fall into coughing fits again. I need to focus on the present. All these feelings and mixed emotions will have to be sorted out later.

Jennifer had given Jayden some cough syrup and he now sits there like he’s in a daze. I don’t know if it’s because of the dosage we gave him or just because of all the craziness of the last few days.

William, one of the white kids falls into a coughing fit and it’s painful to listen too. All the kids and many of the adults are coming down with it, due to the high concentration of concrete dust in the air.

Since Jayden is sitting so quietly, I have nothing else to do, but to stare out the window. The destruction is almost too much to bear. At one point we are rerouted around an area where they are digging up a police station. As we drive the back roads I see a building completely caved in. How could anyone have survived that? I wonder. Just then I see a leg sticking out from under the rubble. I shudder. How terrible. Seeing the big pile of rubble cement brick and rubble around it makes me certain there is no way that person is alive. Plus it’s been three days now since the quake. I try to get the disturbing images out of my mind but I can’t.

When we finally reach the airport we see people everywhere. We drag our suitcases to the entrance, but then are told by the American Embassy that only American citizens are allowed into the airport. Since all the other MAF families are American, they have no problem, it’s just us. I don’t get worried or upset as I stand at the edge of the sidewalk. If I’ve learned only one thing in these last few days, it’s this. God is sovereign and we need to trust Him. Getting angry, upset or impatient in difficult circumstances is not trusting Him.

Mark and Jason try to reason with the American Consulate Representative but he just doesn’t care. He begins to yell and swear. “You don’t think I have enough problems getting the American citizens out of here,” he yells, “Canadians are not my concern.”

Jason and Mark then find a different entrance where they are recognized by one of the Haitian security guards. When they explain the situation to him, and that we have an airplane that might be coming to pick us up on the tarmac, he lets us in a different way. I look up and smile. God is in control.

In the terminal itself, no passports are checked, like they were being the day before, and we walk right onto the tarmac. Once again He has directed our paths. Proverbs 3:5,6 says “Trust in the Lord, with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.”

The runway is crazy busy again today. More US military troops have come in and I observe them from my spot on the tarmac 10 meters away. After awhile Will White comes to tell us that MFI has landed in Cap Haitian, a city North of Port au Prince, and that once again they have not been given permission to land. I sit there quietly once again, not disturbed. If God is for us, who can be against us?

Mark, Todd, and David go and talk to the makeshift tower on a grassy spot on the other side of the tarmac. It consists of a group of ten or so men with radios and other equipment. After talking for awhile, they agree to allow MFI to land at the domestic terminal. With God all things are possible.

We mass pile eleven of us into a five person vehicle and make our way over to the domestic terminal. MFI is able to land sometime after 11:00 a.m. and offloads relief workers and supplies. As we wait the air quality gets so poor, I can hardly breathe. I wrap a shirt around my mouth to try to filter out the concrete dust and pollution.

I feel so weak.

I once again find a spot on the dirty floor and sit. Thankfully I took Jayden’s stroller along, and he sits quietly in there, not saying anything. Finally our baggage is loaded into MFI’s DC3, a World War II aircraft, and it’s time to find our seats. Jayden and I sit on two seats right up front and we get a good view out the window. As the airplane takes off I thank God once again and pray for a safe flight.

As the aircraft climbs higher, the stress, lack of sleep and lack of food hits me, and I feel myself starting to lose consciousness. I grab Jayden’s small hand and then put my head down hoping the dizziness will pass. I manage to keep from passing out and grab for my water bottle. Once the airplane has leveled off, I’m given Kool Aid and a cup of instant soup. Soup has never tasted this good, and the warm liquid revives me.

Once I’m feeling better, Jayden begins to feel worse. He cries and cries and cries, but because the cabin is not pressurized and the airplane is very noisy, no one but me can hear him. “Owie tummy, owie tummy,” he keeps complaining between his coughing fits. I try to help him get into a comfortable position to sleep but he keeps twisting and turning and it just doesn’t work. Not until two hours later does he finally doze off into a restless sleep.

The flight to Ft. Pierce is 3 hours and 40 minutes in the DC3 and it feels like a long time. When it is finally time to descend the pilots descend quite rapidly due to a thick cloud cover. Having a bad head cold and a lot of fluid build up in my ears the pain I now feel is almost unbearable. I try everything to relieve the pressure but since the cabin is not pressurized and we’re coming down fast there is nothing that helps. I swallow, yawn, chew, drink, but nothing relieves the pain. I finally just stick my fingers in my ears and let the tears roll down my face. No one except Jayden can hear or see me cry anyway.

Jayden meanwhile has grabbed both of his ears as well and is screaming in pain. Feeling helpless I try to massage them, but there is really nothing I can do. I pray that we will be on the ground soon, but it still feels like it takes a long time.

By the time we land I’m emotionally spent. Nothing sinks in. Like a robot I grab our bags and walk with Jayden off of the plane. When my feet hit the ground new emotions swirl through me. Joy, hope and thankfulness. We are finally here.