I wake up to the swish, swish of a straw broom. Groaning I roll over, by body still trapped in the throes of deep sleep. Outside, the sun is slowly rising over the distant mountains bathing the plateau with a serene, golden glow.
Not normally a coffee drinker, I opt for a cup today. The rich Haitian coffee is just what I need to give my body the kickstart it needs.
Today we plan to head out to distribute food baskets to a very poor remote community in the mountains. As the only English/Creole speaker, I have been given the role of translating for the entire day trip. I pray for the gift of languages and am reminded that the same God who sent students for the various classes we were hosting and the same God who turned one donkey into thirteen would also provide for me now.
The road to Nanyilla is narrow and bumpy, winding around high mountains and steep valleys.
The views are beautiful and the sky is blue as we travel to our remote destination.
When we arrived in Nanyilla we are greeted by many elderly and blind people.
After greeting them we sing for them, so at least those who can not see us can hear us. We leave the handing out of the food to the local pastor.
One of the Haitian Lemuel staff, who is also a pastor shares the gospel with the people and several of them come forward asking for prayer and wanting to put their faith and hope in Christ. It is a very touching experience to witness.
When the food has been distributed, family members help to carry it home for their elderly or disable loved ones.
Our next stop is a remote market where pale skinned people have rarely, if ever been seen. Many curious glances are cast our way.
We then stop for lunch at a local’s home. The soup that we are served is prepared over a stick fire.
As we eat, the sky becomes increasingly dark and threatening to the point that the Lemuel staff decide it is prudent to leave quickly.
Heavy rain could quickly turn the steep mountain road into an impassable muddy mess so in order to make it safely back to the mission compound we have no time to waste.
Although the ride is incredibly bumpy, fatigue quickly sets in and I soon doze off, even as we are tossed too and fro over the rough roads. I awake to a local woman slapping my leg in an attempt to wake me up. Slowly opening my eyes I am met by a pair of smiling eyes and a wide grin.
We spend the rest of the afternoon working on a local’s property, a stone's throw from the mission.
The lack of edible greenery really hits me when I try to find a blade of grass for the neighbours goat and kid. They both look scrawny and dirty and hungry, but although I spend a little time searching the area, the only greenery is thorny and inedible and I find nothing to offer them.
For dinner that night we are served a delicious meal of Haitian pate', popcorn and pikliz.
After the sun sets we sing together and have a devotional time. Charles Spurgeon has a good illustration of what faith is which I share with the team:
""But must we not believe on Him?" "Aye, certainly. If I say of a certain ointment that it heals, I do not deny that you need a bandage with which to apply it to the wound. Faith is the linen which binds the plaster of Christ's reconciliation to the sore of our sin. The linen does not heal; that is the work of the ointment. So faith does not heal; that is the work of the atonement of Christ."
What a beautiful description of faith!
Our evening visitors include geckos feasting on insects by one of the few light sources, a large cockroach in the sinkhouse and a toad the size of a baseball jumping out at me on the dark path.
That night, before falling into an exhausted slumber I thank God for His provisions for us. How great is our God!
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