Genesis 32:25-31   25 When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob's hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man.  26 Then the man said, "Let me go, for it is daybreak." But Jacob replied, "I will not let you go unless you bless me."  27 The man asked him, "What is your name?" "Jacob," he answered.  28 Then the man said, "Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome."  29 Jacob said, "Please tell me your name." But he replied, "Why do you ask my name?" Then he blessed him there.  30 So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, "It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared."  31 The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel, and he was limping because of his hip. 

I read a quote recently ,”Don't trust a preacher who doesn't walk with a limp”.  I understand this now on a few different levels.  We must understand the grace of God in an experiential way.  If we see our own sin and brokenness and complete inability to save ourselves then all we can do is point others to Christ.  If we are filled with self righteousness then we can only hope to yoke others to the same burdens that we can't even carry ourselves.  Blind guides can only lead others to the same pit they are headed for.  

Haiti has showed me how incapable I am and how capable God is.  It seems so often that he is working in spite of me being there, instead of working because I am there.  But just like a good father that allows their child the freedom to fail when they are working on a project together, God has infinite patience.  There have been some projects I have worked on with my children that I am learning they may never understand how to accomplish, but I work with them because I love them and want to be with them.  The partnership is based on relationship and blood, not on performance.  I am just now starting to grasp the beauty of this.

The decision to move my family out of Haiti was hard on so many levels.  The confirmation came from the counselors that we saw.  They were very encouraging that I continue in full time ministry, but wanted me to seriously consider my “geographic calling” and the fact that I needed to get my family out of Haiti.  Different viewpoints among our family, wrestling with feelings of failure, processing the past 2 and a half years, and questions of what to do next all came rushing in like flood.  The most persistent focus beyond Haiti continues to be sharing what I have learned with those not on the ground here.  Others have to know.

We finally settled in to making plans to come back to the US.  We didn't know where we would land and we didn't know what we would do when we got here.  I had prayed about it enough that I knew it was time to go and finally became settled with the idea.  We began making plans and got a date set to fly out with MFI.  The logistics seemed overwhelming and insurmountable.  However, I knew that if God was calling, that he would work out the details.  I have learned to spend about 90 percent of my time praying, planning, listing the specifics, praying through the details, and about 10 percent in actual execution.  As I started doing this I struggled the most with our re-entry location.  It just remained a big question mark.

Just when it felt like things were beginning to come together, Amy got sick.  She developed a cyst that started to give her problems.  A team of missionary doctors at Respire tried to drain it, but were unsuccessful.  After this it became infected and started to become an emergency.  She had fever and was unable to get out of bed.  We took care of her and started praying through plans to get her to the US for medical care.  It just seemed like terrible timing.  We were planning to be out of Haiti for good in less than 4 months, and now Amy had a major infection that would have to be treated in the US.  We prayed through it and she started on antibiotics.

After a day on antibiotics, the fever came under control and our situation moved from an emergency to a priority.  We started looking at plane tickets and trying to figure out how to travel together.  We finally decided to go to Amy's parent's house in Louisiana.

I was supposed to officiate the wedding ceremony of a couple that was attending City on a Hill Fellowship at Respire.  Amy and I had taken them trough per-marital counseling and the wedding was only a few days away.  It was a difficult decision and we constantly monitored Amy's condition and received advice from doctors in the US.  We finally bought plane tickets and made the trip to Louisiana the next day after the wedding ceremony.  

The antibiotics were doing their job, and extensive testing confirmed that the cysts were indeed just benign cysts.  This was really good news, but Amy was still pretty weak and needed to heal before we could go back to Haiti and finish packing.  The good part about being at home was that we were in a good position to plan for our move back.

We began looking for a vehicle.  Since entering the mission field we have remained debt free and only buy what we need.  I never want to go back into financial debt again.  I want to be free to go where God calls when He says go without having payments or a mortgage to hold us back.  I knew that we would need to remain mobile in the US so we began looking for a truck that would be able to tow a camper. 

It took almost 3 weeks and much searching to find the truck I was looking for at the price I was willing to pay.  I finally found it on a dirty used car lot in McComb, Mississippi.  The car salesman drove up in the truck and got out with a battery charger in his hand.  The truck was filthy inside and out, but seemed mechanically sound – except for a dead battery.  I checked the engine and underneath.  I didn't see any evidence of oil leaks.  The truck had been sitting for a while and the doors where difficult to open.  It smelled bad – the smell of value.

The salesman asked if we wanted to take it for a test drive.  I noticed that the tank was empty and the fuel light was on.  I told the salesman that I was afraid it would run out of gas.  He reached in his pocket and handed me all the money in his wallet – 3 dollars – and directed me to the nearest gas station.  I told him that I was afraid I wouldn't get it to start up again if I turned it off for gas, so he gave me the battery jumper to take with me.  

The salesman was nice.  Former Army and a minister at the Church of God in Christ.  We negotiated on a fair price, paid for it, and then drove over to the nearest Wal-Mart for a new battery.  It took us 3 days to clean it and to get a baseline on the maintenance, but now it is awesome.  Now that we had wheels and Amy was getting better we started making plans to go back to Haiti.

We own land in South Carolina, but it was not livable because there was no water on it.  We weren't even sure if it was a good idea to try to live there.  A few days before we left Louisiana Amy's parents handed her a check that was part of an inheritance from her grandparents.  All four of her grandparents had passed away while we were in Haiti.  It was just enough to drill a well and dig a septic tank on our land.  This would allow us live in our camper that was there.

Well drilling is unpredictable.  There are many different opinions, but in the end it basically comes down to drilling a hole and seeing what you hit.  There are no guarantees except the fact that you pay for the deepest hole drilled even if they don't hit water.  We prayed and had others praying for us the day the drilling started.  In 2 hours they hit water.  Good clean water flowing at 25 gallons a minute at 140 feet.  It was the shallowest well in our area and the best flow of anyone I know.  God had provided an abundance.  I guess it was confirmation of where He wanted us to come back to.  The inheritance money provided exactly enough for a well, pump, and a septic tank.  Exactly what we needed.

We planned to fly back to Haiti with MFI and leave our truck at their hangar.  This worked out well.  The people at MFI have been great as they have transported us back and forth to Haiti and ministered to us in the process.  The flight back into Haiti however, was the worst flight I have ever been on.  We had to make multiple stops.  We flew through turbulent air over the mountains, and had to land on a short grassy runway on one of our stops.  It was like a roller coaster ride.  

The next six weeks of preparation were some of our most difficult in Haiti.  Our neighbors mostly ostracized us since the shutdown of the orphanage.  There could be multiple reasons for this.  One that was voiced to us was the fact that they were afraid of the owners.  

When we got back to Haiti we noticed that the termites had been busy.  We had a picture of a praying man on the wall.  The termites found it and almost totally consumed it.  Amy tried in vain to salvage it, but tearfully gave up when she found out it was beyond hope.  Such a symbol of the hardest of our times.  God was continuing to purge us of things we were holding onto both spiritually and physically.  Almost all of our clothes were totally worn out from the harshness of Haiti.  

We had to go through and purge our belongings.  We had to make decisions on what to bring back, what to give away, and what to burn.  Every item that we kept had to be accounted for, logged in on a customs form, and weighed.  We burned everything that was not worth bringing back or giving away because Haiti has no trash system.  It was so symbolic  of the consuming fire that God is as we watched our stuff burn up in a hot blaze.  He purges us of everything that is not of eternal value.  It is a difficult process, but in the end it is good.

One thing I learned during this.  The warnings on batteries that they may explode are true.  We had kept all of our old batteries in a container because there was nowhere else to put them.  Once the fire was nice and hot we dumped them all in and ran like crazy.  It was like a fireworks display and we stood behind trees to escape the shrapnel.

On our way to church that first Sunday back I realized I forgot my wallet at home.  We turned around to go get it because I get stopped constantly and asked for my truck papers and driver's license.  I was frustrated with myself because I knew this was going to make us late getting to church.  You just never know what God is going to use to show you how real He is and how much He cares for you.  I realized this as we drove past an accident that had just happened and saw a dead person still lying in the middle of the road.  The police were just starting to arrive.  If I had remembered my wallet we probably would have been participants instead of observers.  I thanked God the rest of the way to church.

The next Sunday I noticed traffic stopping and tried to stop soon enough not to get caught in it.  The traffic behind me backed up quickly and I knew I was trapped.  I could see large crowds with hundreds of people filling the road.  It turned out to be a rah rah event.  We got trapped in the middle of it for about an hour.  People were drunk and high in various states of dress and began to surround our truck.  They were yelling obscenities and directing derogatory remarks because they could see we were white.  They started rocking the truck and banging on the windows.

Amy was vainly holding back tears and we were all praying.  She was able to send out a Facebook message back to our friends at church in Georgia.  The praise team was just about to pray when they received the message.  We were just looking forward, praying, and singing praise songs together.  Eventually the rah rah band started up and everyone followed them and left us alone.  We were all pretty shaken up by the time we got to church.  

Our last few weeks there were pretty busy and we watched as God brought together everything that we needed to close our loose ends in Haiti.  He brought a seller for our truck, someone to sublet our house, and no problems with closing our bank account.  It was intense and I would breathe a sigh of relief with each objective completed.

We were invited to spend our last few days at the Respire guest house on the mountain in Gressier.  It was a huge relief especially after selling our truck and having no transportation.  The time there was refreshing and our girls enjoyed spending time and playing with the Anderson girls.  They wanted to spend as much time as possible together so they planned a sleepover on the mountain where we were staying.  They all wanted to sleep in some portable bug nets on the porch, so I decided to sleep on the outermost area in order to provide a chaperon outside.  

Around midnight the wind picked up pretty heavy and a storm started to blow in.  I had some clothes hanging on the balcony railing drying and saw them blow over the side.  I got up, walked over to the balcony, and shined my flashlight down to locate them.  I really don't know what was going through my head as I decided to just leap over the balcony railing to go pick up my clothes.  The first clue that I made a big mistake was the fact that I didn't hit the ground immediately.  The third clue was the wind whistling through my ears as my rate of descent began to increase dramatically.  The third clue was when I hit the uneven ground and large sharp rocks.  

I crash landed with a thud and received so much immediate pain to the bottom of my feet, ankles, knees, and elbows that I kind of blanked out for a second.  Once I was able to process what happened I just laid there shivering from the intense pain and thinking what an idiot I was and hoping I didn't break something.  The older I get the longer it takes to recover.  I finally managed to get up, collect my clothes, climb back up the balcony railing, and get back into my sleeping bag.  I just laid there shivering in pain.  

A little while later hard rain started and we had to move the whole production inside.  I was moving slow, limping, and moaning recognizing that I was only going to be able to help myself.  I told Amy that I needed to get in bed and couldn't help anyone else.  She asked if there was something wrong with me.  I didn't realize that anyone else had seen what happened until Mikka asked,”Is that when you fall down? You look like Superman!” When she said this all the girls started laughing and I realized that all of them had seen what happened.  We all started laughing and  they kept talking about it for the rest of our time there.

I had to finish out my time there limping around.  Such a physical picture of what was going on with me emotionally.  It was time to limp home and heal for a while.  Get alone with God and process through what I learned listening for Him to reveal to me what is next.

In Christ,
Laramie

Proverbs 21:31 The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but victory rests with the LORD.

As Christians, we are commanded to be filled with the Holy Spirit.  This involves an active participation with God as He makes us more like Him.  We invite His presence and everything around us begins to change as His glory radiates and penetrates.  I have seen the inverse of this on a level that is difficult to imagine in the voodoo rituals and daily lives and culture of those that are inviting and participating with manifest evil as it seeks to steal, kill, and destroy.  As I experience this I am becoming convinced that the most powerful thing we can do is to be active in the worship of our Lord and Savior and to teach others to do the same.  As we worship Him privately and corporately we will radiate with His holiness like Moses.  

It was wonderful to be able to participate in a candlelight Christmas service on the mountain with Respire Haiti.  To be able to glorify God, and celebrate the birth of our Savior in this special way was a powerful reminder of how the worship of our Lord brings unity among believers as the presence of our God strengthens us so that we can represent Him to the world.  I have come to appreciate these types of formal and traditional services that promote reverence of a Holy God.

My family decided to watch Home Alone for Christmas Eve because it was the only Christmas movie we had.  I love that movie.  A young child defeating the thieves.  A spiritual lesson could easily be drawn from it.  We watched it as thick clouds of charcoal fire smoke enveloped our house and voodoo drums played in the background. 

What is it about winter solstice that heightens the possibility of the demonic.  So many pagan ceremonies focus on this time.  Many Christians even denounce Christmas as pagan because of this.  I see it more like claiming this time in the name of Christ and for His glory.  God is God of every day of the year and we claim each day for the glory of our savior.

As difficult as relationships have been in Haiti, the few really good ones that we have prove that God is very much at work in the lives of people even in the midst of active paganism.  A good friend of ours that we have come to cherish as a dear brother in Christ brought us a gift of Lobster for Christmas.  It was a great gift and a cool way to have a Haitian Christmas dinner.  

I try to stay stocked on everything so that there is always a redundant supply, but sometimes it is difficult when you go a long time and the local store continues to be out.  When we were finally down to our last roll of toilet paper I sent the boys to the local store to try to buy some more.  They returned empty handed and I knew that meant we would have to extend the search radius.  The next day in Leogonne proved successful.  The price was double there, but we had reached the point of desperation and had to cave to the price gouging in order to avoid unwanted creativity in an area that it seemed best to remain mundane and straightforward at all costs.

Our electricity situation involves a generator at night that runs our fans and charges our batteries.  We use the batteries during the day to run our electronics and then lights once the sun goes down.  For simplicity I just have a series of power strips and extension chords running throughout the house.  The power strips that I can buy locally are cheap and burn out after a short time.  I have found that I can open them up, bypass the switch, and then they continue on.  I now only buy the ones that are easy to fix.

I had been using a converter/charger that I brought from the US to charge my batteries.  It was a sad day when it failed, because I knew that there was no possibility of replacing it or finding parts locally.  I prayed a whole bunch and then opened it up to see if I could find what was wrong.  Even opening it involved sawing off rivets with a hacksaw.  By a miracle I discovered pretty quick that  a ceramic disc capacitor had become desoldered and was jingling around inside the box.  I only have an electric soldering iron so I had to run the generator just to be able to solder the capacitor back in place.  I was actually able to do this and get the thing back together.  I only had one minor error.  As I was working to put everything back together I managed to put my bare foot directly on the hot soldering iron and burn a nice hole in it.  

The family all circled around the repair job and we prayed for God to bless it as I put my electric plant back together.  I was so happy as it worked perfectly for the next 10 days, then the capacitor finally blew completely.  I called around and found someone that had an old inverter that I attempted to salvage a capacitor from.  The biggest one that  I could find was still smaller than what I needed.  I put it in anyway and it actually worked and would charge a normal car battery, but not the battery bank that I needed.  

I went to a store in Leogonne and found that they had battery chargers.  The chargers that they sold were smaller than what I needed, but I was desperate so I bought one anyway.  It works OK, but does not charge the batteries to full capacity.  I guess it is “Haiti good”.

When I killed the tarantulas people warned me that rats would come next.  This has proven to be true.  However, I don't want either one.  So now I am willing to battle the rats.  I got up one morning around 2 am to go to the bathroom.  Our bathtub has a big hole in it where the drain valve should be because the only plumbing is just a straight pipe leading outside the house.  As I walked into the bathroom with my flashlight I noticed a rat run into the open hole and caught sight of his tail just before he completely disappeared.

The hole is the only entrance to the entire circumference of the bathtub.  All around the outside is tile and concrete, but between this and the tub is just a hollow space.  I didn't want rats living there.  My first step was to use the same torch method that I had used on the spiders.  The only problem was that I didn't have a direct shot to the rat.  I decided that I would spray the bug spray into the hole and then set it on fire.  It was just concrete and tile.  What is the worst that could happen?

I began spraying into the hole and sprayed continuously for about 30 seconds.  If you have ever fired a potato gun you have some idea of what happened next.  I was completely unprepared for the explosion that took place when I ignited the hole.  It was loud like a gunshot or small bomb.  Shampoo bottles and soap that were placed around the edge of the tub all flew into the air and landed inside the tub.  Bits of concrete broke off and flew around the room.  Amy came out of our bedroom angry and claiming that I had “blown” her out of bed.

I assumed correctly that the rat had not been killed in the explosion and decided to continue action until I knew I had success.  I asked Amy to get a pack of rat poison, a jar lid, and some duct tape.  I dumped the pack of rat poison in the hole and then duct taped the jar lid in place.

About 5 am I could hear the rat scratching around in general and specifically poking at the jar lid.  This scratching and attempted escape would continue for over a week.  I don't know how long rats can live or how long it takes poison to kill them, but this one was determined.  

The first day after trapping him I put concrete all around the edges of the tub to fill in any potential escape routes.  I missed a small crack around the edge, but the rat didn't.  I walked in one morning to find a washcloth that had been draped over the edge pulled into the hole.  It had been pulled inside and shredded.  The crack was just barely big enough for the washcloth to partially fit.  I decided that I would go ahead and fill this crack with concrete.  By this point the rat must have become desperate because he pushed all the concrete out of the hole before it could dry.  Being more determined than the rat, I put the Haitian version of JB weld into the crack.  The rat was able to get most of this out as well.  I finally cut pieces of tin and duct taped them over the crack.  This seemed to do the trick.

After covering the crack I stopped hearing the scratching.  A day or so after that I smelled the unmistakable smell of victory.  I was finally able to get some sleep at night again.

It seems that Haiti is always a bit volatile.  It got worse when a newly elected official was arrested by the US and taken in for custody right before being sworn in.  I am unsure of all the specific details surrounding this so I am just going to give a subjective account of what I experienced.  Our local Facebook group was full of reports that a private army wanted retaliation for this against Americans.  There was action taken against Americans in and around the southern city of Jeremie.  Americans had to be evacuated.  We packed our backpacks and just kept an eye on the situation.  Thankfully things never advanced to our area.

The constant begging and demanding seems to get to everyone after a while.  I have tried various things to deal with this.  My latest has been to just use the exact words that Obi-Wan Kenobi used to divert the storm troopers on Mos Eisley.  I just say in English, “These aren't the droids your looking for.  You don't need to see my identification.  Move along.”  I do it with the hand motion.  It has been surprisingly effective and keeps me from losing my temper while trying to reason with someone that is unreasonable in their native language.

It was an honor to be asked to perform a wedding ceremony for one of the staff members of Respire that was marrying a Haitian man.  This also seems to be a sign of growth and health within the body of believers that are meeting as part of City on a Hill Fellowship.  I was able to meet with them and Amy and I took them through some pre-marriage counseling. 

While preparing for the wedding Amy became sick and developed an infection that couldn't be treated in Haiti.  I was able to perform the wedding ceremony, but then we had to leave immediately and prepare to fly out the next morning.  We flew back to Louisiana and stayed at Amy's parents house while she received treatment.  Antibiotics cleared up her infection and testing revealed that she had no other problems.

I know that my time in Haiti has changed me.  I feel that I have been tenderized.  I know that every time I come back to the US I see things differently than I did before.  I know that even beyond my poor reactions, frustrations, and anger at injustice I serve a big God that is love.  I am learning to listen to Him more and be more dependent on Him.  There are so many unknowns right now and even though I can't see the specific details of the future I am confident that as long as I stay close to Him that I will have joy, and He will be glorified.

In Christ,
Laramie

1 Peter 5:6-9  6 Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.  7 Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.  8 Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.  9 Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings. 

The law of gravity exists whether we decide to believe in it or not.  Isaac Newton did not create this law, he just defined it.  If we say that we do not believe in this law and try to jump off a tall building, we will find out that the law does not care if we do not believe in it.  If we do believe in it, but willingly attempt breaking it we will find out the same thing.  God has created physical, spiritual, and moral laws.  Whether we choose to believe or obey them is irrelevant to the fact that they exist and will act on us depending on how we choose to interact with them.  I am learning the laws that exist in the spiritual realm more clearly than ever before since entering to the spiritual battlefield of Haiti.  Authorities and jurisdictions exist because God has created them, defined them, and put consequences in place for breaking them.  Even the demons believe - and shudder - says James.  Those who fight against them will only find themselves fighting against God.

More than anything the spiritual battle that satan wages against us is a battle for the mind.  He is the father of lies and seeks to steal, kill, and destroy mostly through deception and using people deceived by him to do his bidding.  Those of us bought with the blood of Christ have been given authority in the spiritual realm to resist the devil and make him flee.  We must first submit to God, then we must resist the devil.  This is the battleground.  It feels like battle and we suffer the effects of war veterans when we have been there, but greater is He that is in us than He that is in the world.  Christ is victor.

It has been the most wonderful pleasure to be connected with the children's village in Leogonne that took seven of the kids when the bad orphanage next to our house closed down.  It was a wonderful relief to see that four of them have already been reunited with their families and are no longer living in institutional orphan care.  It is also good to know that the ones that remain are receiving the best care possible.  It is all broken and far from perfect, but God works through our weaknesses and receives all the glory for all the good that happens.

The hurricane dumped tons of rain on us.  This made for lots of green things and quick recovery for destroyed crops.  This also brought massive breeding grounds for mosquitoes, fruit flies, and all manner of flying insects.  Every morning we would go around and sweep up piles of gnats, mosquitoes, and other insects.  It was awful.  I was able to have a glimpse of how Pharaoh must have felt during the plagues. 

Frenchy came by one day and expressed a sincere desire to continue with discipleship.  His church was falling apart due to internal corruption and the subsequent fighting as a result.  It had become too much for him to bear as Sunday morning worship services turned into yelling matches and power struggles.  This was confirmed by another neighbor who is also a member of the same church.  It was good to reconnect and start going through the study that I had put together for discipleship on who the church is and how we are supposed to function. It was even better to see him take this and begin putting it into action as he formed a bible study to teach it to others.  

The weight of voodoo ceremonies is difficult to put into words.  Haitians have a version of the day of the dead known as Fet Gede.  There are sacrifices and ceremonies that happen all over Haiti during this time.  Many were happening for several days in a row all around our house.  It was difficult to think or function.  We spent most of our time in prayer as they were going on.  The battle is no less real even if it can't be seen with the naked eye.

We have committed to participating with City on a Hill Fellowship in Gressier – the church that is part of Respire Haiti.  We have been leading worship because it was an area that was lacking and God has gifted us to fill.  It has been wonderful to plug in there and use the talents that God has given our family to once again glorify His name with music.  

It is such a strange thing to just live for God daily.  To wake up every day and say, “OK God, what does today look like.  Whatever you say goes.”  It is freeing and terrifying at the same time.  It is difficult to describe to other people who ask ,”What do you do?”.  However it matches perfectly with the life of the apostles, and the lives of missionaries throughout history.  I keep having to remind myself of this when I feel like I'm not measuring up to some self imposed standard that is not biblical.  I am understanding that God is not looking for a business plan, but obedience.  This is not an excuse for laziness in the area of planning.  It is instead a reminder that when we make plans and God says to do something different that we are sold out enough to Him to abandon our plans and follow His.

The Leogonne man that we saw wearing only the bra lost the bra.  Now he is known by the locals as simply the Leogonne naked man.  He was seen for a while regularly walking in the middle of the national road talking to himself.  “Hey kids look down!” we would shout when he would begin to come into view.  He has now been joined by the belt man.  A man that stands in a median grassy area holding his belt in the air with one hand, his pants up with the other, and making proclamations to the world throughout the day.  

The AC in the truck started to lose its cooling effect.  PaVle was sure that it just needed to be recharged with freon.  I went to buy the freon and happened to see him near the “store” where I was buying it.  I asked him where I could buy an adapter hose so that I could connect the freon canister to the charging port.  He just went to his truck, pulled one out and gave it to me.  He said he would call me when he needed it again.  He said that I can find freon anywhere, but the adapters are only found in Port au Prince.  I charged the AC and now we are happily freezing again when we drive.  To only have to add freon once in 6 months is almost like a completely fixed AC unit in Haiti.  

One night as the voodoo services kept me from sleeping I decided to walk on the roof and pray.  I walked and prayed for a long time.  It is hard to describe the feeling when right at midnight the clouds broke and the moon began to shine.  There was a large charcoal fire putting out Kevorkian levels of smoke next to our house.  It felt like I was praying in the very pit of hell as I walked through the thick smoke being illuminated by the moonbeams to the noise of voodoo drums and hair raising screams among chants.  Within an hour the smoke subsided and the service completed.  Time to go back to sleep.  Another battle fought. 

The political situation here continues basically like it has been for the last year.  It is impossible to predict when large groups of people are going to decide that today is the day to block the road, throw rocks, burn stuff down, and tear stuff up.  Another election was planned for the day of Amy's 40th birthday and the embassy issued a shelter in place recommendation beginning the night before continuing until the day after.  Just long enough to trap us for her entire birthday.  The only thing she asked for was to go to a beach near by and eat some lobster.  With the shelter in place warning this was no longer an option.  I talked to TiMouche and worked out for him to bring some to us.

All of us have been on constant edge and provoked to argument at the drop of a hat.  We had been trying to get back to the US for a time of respite, but events like the hurricane and political unrest kept preventing it.  Two days before Amy's birthday the two of us started arguing and continued with no resolve until a full week after it was behind us.  I have heard other pastors, missionaries, and ministry leaders say this, but I can now confirm it with first hand experience.  Ministry is able to continue under just about every hardship except when things are falling apart at home.  This makes ministry almost impossible.  

I guess that is the way it is supposed to be.  The qualifications for elders and deacons in 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1 put a prerequisite of family first.  This should always be our first ministry and all other ministry should be a natural fruit of this one.  When the first one is falling apart we need to regroup, focus there, and then the natural fruit will again overflow into other areas of ministry.

After 22 years of marriage it doesn't seem like we should have unresolvable arguments to just go on and on.  Especially one that went well beyond the length of any we have had in the past.  I guess we always have to strive to break the odds and outdo everything we have done before.  What a comforting thought.  In the midst of frustration and arguing TiMouche showed up a day early with the lobster.  The only good part about this was the fact that Amy had to do most of the work to cook them because I didn't know what I was doing and at least she didn't have to do it on her birthday.  The good news was that he brought 10 beautiful very alive lobster and gave them to me at the best price I have ever paid.  The bad news was that I didn't know what to do with them once I had them.  The conversation went something like this:

Amy: “What are you going to do with those?”
Me: “I'm going to boil them.”
Amy: “You really don't know how to do that do you.”
long pause
Me:”No.  But I can Google it if I can find a good signal.”
Amy:”Whatever.  Just let me do it.”
long pause
Me:”OK”.
Amy:”Well at least it isn't actually on my birthday.”
ouch

In a failed effort to redeem myself I tried to prep the lobsters by washing them in fresh water and cutting off the long tentacles so they would fit in the pot.  They were all very much alive and thriving.  This is good because they were fresh.  It is bad because they were large monster lobster and tried to kill me as I worked with them.  

When the water finally came to a boil I put the first one in the pot.  He only fit halfway in and I tried to grab onto him as he thrashed around violently splashing boiling water everywhere and slicing up my hands so much that I started bleeding all over the place.  I finally got him wrestled into the pot head down and pinned his tail to the top of the pot with the lid.  I was now in control,  but he was still fighting me for all he was worth and it took every ounce of strength and effort to keep him there.  

Finally the struggle subsided and I knew that he was whipped.  Slowly and cautiously I removed my bleeding hands from the pot and took a breath.  Amy could see the big drops of dark red blood all over the place and cared for my sliced hands out of genuine love and concern.  We finally got all of the lobster cooked and enjoyed one of the best meals we have ever eaten in Haiti.  We made lobster everything for the next three days.  At least it was a good way to shelter in place.

TiMouche continued to make charcoal out of the fallen trees.  He also made a dugout canoe.  I heard a hollow chopping sound all morning and wondered what he was doing.  That afternoon when I saw him he told me that he made a canoe and wanted to show me.  It was beautiful and well crafted.  The best one I had seen around here.  He was really proud of himself as he showed it to me.  He explained that he didn't have a net to fish with.  However, he knew some other guys that had a net, but they did not have a canoe.  His plan was to rent out his canoe to them for a portion of their catch as payment.

As I process through my time here I can see that in some places I have planted seed, some places I have watered, and some places I have harvested.  As I pondered which area seems to be the closest to my gifting I landed on fertilizer.  A little helps the plants to grow big and strong.  Too much and they will burn up.  If it is too raw it will stink so it needs to be refined before being applied.  I remember always loving to go to the Co-Op store with my grandfather when I was a kid.  I don't know why exactly.  It was just a country freed store.  For some reason I always loved the smell of it.  I came to to realized that smell was refined fertilizer.  Hopefully I am being refined so that I won't stink so bad as I go about the work God has called me to.  I have also realized that like Paul, I am not going to be able to stay in one place for too long.

As Amy and I were coming to the end of our long argument I realized that could either be right or be married.  Being right was just my own idea and definition of right.  Maybe a little like self righteousness that has no place in the kingdom of God.  I was truly beginning to die to self and learning what it was like to crucify the flesh and love my wife sacrificially.  After staying up all night praying – truly battling in prayer – I began working in the yard the next morning to help me process through everything.  I was weed-eating the whole place that had truly become a jungle after all the rain.  It was starting to really look beautiful.  More beautiful than ever before because of the constant care, weed-eating, and rain.  

I began just rejoicing and praising God while working.  As I started singing out loud the weed-eater got bound by some fishing string that it picked up in the yard.  The first time this happened I didn't even think about it, but then it happened again.  After 3 times of this happening I began to test it.  Every time I started to sing out loud I would pick up fishing string that would bind the weed-eater no matter which part of the yard I was in.  Once I recognized this as a targeted spiritual attack I just called satan out on it and commanded him to leave me alone.  I picked up the weed-eater again, started praying more loudly and boldly, and finished my work without any further interruptions. 

So often it seems like the missions here either contribute to the problems or that they are in fact the problem.  One fact that keeps popping up and has been confirmed again recently is that more than one mission that I know personally is using short term teams to smuggle the products that they are making out of the country.  I just can't wrap my mind around this and I don't see how it not only will not help, but will in fact do major damage to all involved.  It all seems so innocent to the short term team members when they are asked to bring back some items with them and ship them to an address they are given.  They are here to help and just want to do what they are asked to do.  They are probably not even aware that they are breaking the law as they fill out the custom form that asks if they have commercial merchandise with them.  

Child sponsorship is another area that is exploited here.  One of our neighbors recently stopped going to school because her parents couldn't afford it.  We were talking to her after church one Sunday and she explained that they were writing letters to sponsors during the church service.  When we asked what the sponsor provided, she said nothing.  They just wrote letters back and forth to each other.  This just happened to be the same church that Frenchy ended up leaving.  Just like food distribution, sponsorship money rarely helps the kids that it is supposed to. Often it only goes to pad the pockets of those exploiting and abusing the kids that it is supposed to be going to.  This is not isolated, but instead the rule rather than the exception.  This is not only true for Haiti as I am beginning to find out, but takes place all over the world.

I woke up to go to the bathroom about 2 am.  I heard something scratching on the window outside and noticed a medium sized rat eating a snail.  I went back to bed and put some poison on the window sill next to the snail shell the next morning.  A few nights later I heard it about the same hour and went to check.  This time it was eating the poison.  Satisfied that this would kill it I didn't put out any more.  A couple more nights passed and I heard it again.  This time I decided I would torch it through the steel window grating.  To my surprise thing had some how come into the house and was now inside the window.  I couldn't find a good place to torch it without burning up something important.

The closest blunt object was a plunger.  This turned out to be completely ineffective.  I chased it into the twins room and woke them up abruptly as I started banging around with the plunger.  It finally entered the kitchen area and disappeared.  Amy woke up and came to help.  We eventually found it, flushed it out, and worked together to kill it.  It was so symbolic of us tackling the spiritual battle that had plagued our relationship and working together to destroy the enemy.  It seemed like everything started getting better after killing the rat.

God worked out so many details with perfect timing for us to go on a vacation as a family.  Focus on the Family and the North American Mission Board worked together to get us some online time with a counselor as well as some time with one in the US.  A friend found us a free condo in Florida that gave us a place to stay while we got refreshed and went to counseling.  The time was amazing.  The body of Christ working together to support each other so that we can continue to do what God has called us to do.

We really connected as a family and went through lots of the resources that were provided to us.  We laughed, cried, stayed up all night, slept till noon every day, while talking and sharing like never before.  The counselor said that our children handled some really hard things with mature attitudes and told us that we have done a good job as parents.  This was comforting, but confirmed that all we have been through has been really difficult and has been an incredible strain on all of us.  

Amy and I came through and have dealt with things we have never dealt with before.  We have both grown and our relationship is sweeter than it ever has been.  We are treating each other with more love and respect than ever before in our marriage.  All of us went through some of the PTSD exercises and it was amazing how much they helped.  I was up praying late one night and it was like a switch was flipped.  I felt different than I had in years.  It was the first time in as long as I can remember that I was really sad when vacation was over.  It was actually difficult to think about coming back to Haiti and all of the hardship that waited for us.

The day after we were back we went to visit one of our neighbors.  It was funny to watch for over an hour as two young boys played with a videocassette.  They took it apart and began to string it all through the surrounding trees.  They would climb into the trees, wrap it around and around, and then proceed to the next tree.  Everyone around just went on about their business and said nothing as the young boys made an enormous spider web of videotape just over their heads in the trees.  No one seemed to care or even notice.  Its what the devil does here.  He patiently makes his webs and it seems like no one is fighting or paying attention.  Eventually the web surrounds those we know and love and they are caught.  

I know now how much God is for me.  I know how much he is for my marriage, my family, and His ministry that he has called me to participate in.  It is a good feeling knowing that I did not save myself and I cannot keep myself saved.  He saved me and holds me in His mighty hand.  However, I have the privilege to participate in this or I can try to fight against it.  I have learned the joy of active participation.  I have learned the feel of victory in the battle and it is so sweet.    

Psalm 144:1-8  Praise be to the LORD my Rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle.  2 He is my loving God and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield, in whom I take refuge, who subdues peoples under me.  3 O LORD, what is man that you care for him, the son of man that you think of him?  4 Man is like a breath; his days are like a fleeting shadow.  5 Part your heavens, O LORD, and come down; touch the mountains, so that they smoke.  6 Send forth lightning and scatter the enemies; shoot your arrows and rout them.  7 Reach down your hand from on high; deliver me and rescue me from the mighty waters, from the hands of foreigners  8 whose mouths are full of lies, whose right hands are deceitful. 

2 Corinthians 2:14-17  14 But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him.  15 For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.  16 To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to such a task?  17 Unlike so many, we do not peddle the word of God for profit. On the contrary, in Christ we speak before God with sincerity, like men sent from God. 

Following God as he leads is a daily event.  I am a planner.  I like to plan into the future and have objectives and steps along the way that all fall into place.  I am learning that following God's lead doesn't always work like this.  We make plans in our heart, but God directs our steps.  As we prepared for the first bible study in the mountains, everyone that had been a part of the training backed out at the last minute.  This left only Luke and I to go up and lead the bible study.  

The guy's house that we went to had actually started building benches and a handful of people showed up.  I just presented the gospel and then we had a really good time of discussion.  The guy that owned the house – SonSon – thanked me for coming and said that he was thirsty for the word that I brought.  I asked him to consider where he was in his spiritual walk according to what I had shared.  He said that he believed, but didn't want to be baptized yet because he was still enjoying his sin and he would have to get clean before he could be baptized. 

Another guy that was there corrected him.  He had been intently listening when I shared the gospel and scriptures and explained to SonSon that he couldn't clean himself up, and he couldn't pick baptism over believing.  He explained that if you wanted to follow Christ that repentance and baptism went hand in hand according to the scriptures I shared.  They discussed this among themselves for a little while and then the man explaining looked at me and said, “I understand what you are saying and know it is true.  I appreciate you sharing this with us this morning.  However, we don't go to church because we don't want to go.  I know it is a long walk to get to a church from here, but that is not why we don't go.  If we wanted to go to church somewhere we could, but we just don't want to go.”  At least they were being honest, and they never asked me for anything.  I prayed to close us out and then walked back home with Luke.

Many people are under the impression that the Haitian culture is mostly illiterate and mostly oral.  I have not found this to be the case.  It is a more oral culture than ours, but it is not an illiterate one.  Sometimes I meet someone that can't read, and sometimes even if they can read they are what we would call functionally illiterate.  These cases are the exceptions and no more common than I found in the United States.  The vast majority of people that I am able to talk to and share Christ with here can read very well and have more biblical knowledge than the average American churchgoer.  In the end it comes down to a willful choice to continue in sin, legalism, false doctrine, or whatever else they don't want to give up.

I know that I have become desensitized to so many things here.  I sat down to eat in a restaurant a few weeks ago and found a hair in my food.  Most of my life before now this would have caused enough disgust to discontinue my meal.  Not anymore.  I just pulled it out and kept eating without missing a beat.  Then I found another one.  This time it would have been impossible to remove without spitting out all of the food that was in my mouth, so I just ate it.  I really hope that one day this will gross me out again.  

We began getting reports from our ex-pat community here that a storm was approaching and we should keep an eye on it.  As the days passed this unnamed storm grew into Hurricane Matthew.  We all watched with anticipation as the predictions began to prove true, it continued to grow in size and strength, and then began heading straight for us.

Luke and I went up the mountain to warn the people that had been a part of the bible study.  The people that we were able to find just laughed at us when we told them about it.  SonSon said that he had been invited to a different church and would visit there.  We made a plan to discontinue to bible study at his house for now.  Luke and I continued further in the mountains to a valley area all of the locals had told us about where supposedly no church existed.  We were greeted warmly by the people that lived there and we told them about the approaching hurricane.  They didn't laugh at us, but treated it with indifference.  I asked if there was a church in the area and one boy said he would lead us to it because it was next to the river where he was going to draw water.

We followed him to a beautiful valley flowing with clear springs into a larger river.  He pointed across the river to a large church building and explained that it was a Methodist church.  He said that most of the people in the area were members, the pastor was from Port-au-Prince and came to all the services.  He showed me where there was an access road to get to it by vehicle.

We came back home and tried to warn other people about the coming hurricane.  We explained that they needed to get to higher ground because it was going to be really bad and our area is prone to flooding.  Laughter was the most common response.  There are so many similarities here that could be drawn between the response to the gospel and sharing about the storm.  Only TiMouche seemed to take me seriously.  He said that he would move all of his animals to safer locations.

The next day we worked to make our house as hurricane prepared as possible.  We took the water tanks off the roof, took clotheslines down, and tried to get anything inside that might blow away or become a projectile.  I was happy that we already had bars and steel grating over all of our windows.  I knew that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to stay in our house so I called a friend that has a mission on the mountain and he agreed to let us weather out the storm with him and his family.

The storm was so slow and unpredictable on the time of arrival.  As soon as the rain started we headed up the mountain, but the storm didn't actually hit until almost two days later.  The waiting was excruciating.  We enjoyed our time together with our friends.  We cooked together, shared stories, watched movies, and sang praise songs.  When the full force of the storm hit my family slept in a center bathroom together all night.  It had two metal doors and no windows.

The wind howled for days and the rain poured in from every crevice that wasn't water tight.  We were constantly hauling water out in buckets, mopping, putting towels under doors, and getting things off the floor.  There was barely a break in the fight against the water for two full days.  Finally the wind died down and we began to gain ground against the water.  Miraculously we kept internet the entire time.  Most of us here live off the grid anyway so electricity wasn't an issue either.

We received some news from a man that walked up to the house that the entire roof to a local church was gone and our entire area of Fauche had been washed away like it never even existed.  This news was difficult to take, but we prayed knowing that it might actually not be true.  We prayed and trusted God with the results as we continued to wait.

Once the weather cleared and water began to recede Luke and I decided we would try to walk to our house to assess.  I was not prepared for what happened on that walk.  The truth finally began to be revealed that our area had not actually received much damage at all.  In fact, the entire eastern portion of Haiti was not in a relief situation.  There were no deaths in our immediate area.  The church roof that was supposedly gone was only missing about 2 panels of tin.  

As soon as we started walking people started demanding that we give them things because we were white.  We weren't even five minutes into our four mile walk when a man came out to the road and yelled at us, “BLAN!!!! I've lost everything.  You have to give me money!!!!”.  I could clearly see his house behind him had received no damage whatsoever.  I told him that I could see his house and I was walking to my house that I didn't even know the condition of.  This type of demanding only grew as we walked.  It became unbearable.

I had initially received some reports that the Grand Goave bridge had been washed away,  but could see that it was fully intact and the water had receded already.  The Petit Goave bridge in the next town over was the one that was actually destroyed.  As we crossed the bridge some kids began demanding that we give them money.  “BLAN!!! Give me money!!”  I got angry with them and told them that it was a shame for them to do this.  I told them that I didn't even know the condition of my house.

We decided that we might get less harassment if we ran so we began to run.  It was raining off and on.  It was the same route that I ran that night that Wesley's brother shafted me with the motorcycle ride.  That memory didn't help the already deteriorating mood I was in.  Our nerves were already shot from the storm and we didn't know what condition our house was in.  Now everyone was coming out to demand that we give them money.  

When we got closer to our house we could see more people.  Most people were just going on with business as usual, except now they were in attack mode for anyone they thought might be aid workers to get what they could out of them while the getting was good.  I have never been treated so bad so many times in a row by so many people in all my life.

Nearly everyone that we passed was calling us BLAN and demanding that we give them money.  It was almost more than I could handle.  People would block our path and tell us to give them whatever we had in our pocket.  I got in several heated discussions with people and even called one guy a racist because he was judging me only by the color of my skin and didn't know anything about me.  There was absolutely no regard for me or for the people that were actually hit hard in the southwest.  I challenged people on why they weren't thankful that they didn't die in the storm.  Why weren't they giving thanks to God for sparing them?  So many people were just trying to grab what money they could while they could get it.  One man came running over when he saw us and even threw out a figure.  He demanded that Luke and I give him and all of the people standing there 500 HTG each!  It was unreal.  

The only two people that were thankful that I saw during that time were Baby and the man that owns the local hardware store.  The hardware store owner met me at the road and greeted me warmly.  He showed me his house and his wife and said thanks to God that everything was OK.  I prayed with him and asked God to continue blessing him and his family.  His wife said she received the blessing and thanked me for praying with them.  Baby's house was missed by a few inches from an enormous breadfruit tree that fell.  He was happily eating a meal on his front porch when I walked up.

We finally got to our house and found everything just as we had left it.  The only damage were some trees down.  We thanked God and then made a plan to get everyone home for the night.  I called a friend that drives a motorcycle taxi named Claudie.  He is a great guy and loves the Lord.  I couldn't take walking back through the gauntlet of demands.  It was refreshing to ride back with him because he is a friend and always charges me a fair price.

We were able to drive to our house and begin getting things back in order.  There was very minor damage to our area, supply routes were open, and people were buying and selling as usual.  The locals demanding that we give them stuff was bad, but what I witnessed over the next few days by some local missions was worse.

It seemed like everyone was trying to cash in while they could.  People posting pictures that weren't our area, weren't even Haiti, and some weren't even from this storm.  So many stories were floating around with pictures attached next to donate now buttons.  It was all too much to even process.  I knew that there were some people in the hardest hit areas that actually needed help and I was willing to help them, but I was at a loss for how.  With all of the fraud going on and all of the demanding from an already out of control sense of entitlement fostered by the missions here I just had to step back and pray before making a decision of how to get involved.

I took a full day and just cleaned up our yard with my family.  I thought a full day of chopping with a machete and praying might help me figure out a right action to take.  Amy and I discussed it together and I reached out to some friends for prayer.  Hordes of people were stopping supply trucks in route to the damaged areas and demanding their portion, violent robberies of relief workers in the damaged areas were being reported, and a general feeling of unrest prevailed.

Before the storm was even over people were offering to come, give money to us, give stuff to us, or help in any other way they could.  It warmed my heart so much to see this, but then to see this generosity abused in the worst way all around me made me not want to have anything to do with any of it. Many people were forming grassroots efforts here, and I considered trying to join up with them.  In the end I decided that I would offer my services to Samaritan's Purse.  They are a true relief organization and I knew that they would be able to navigate this from a biblical perspective and years of practical experience.  So far they have not needed my help.  A friend of mine that was leading a team of doctors also invited me to go with him, but these plans fell through at the last minute and I was not able to accompany them.   

It is difficult for me to really get a grasp on all of the issues here.  The solution always has been and always will be the gospel.  Practically there are so many problems to be overcome,  I know the gospel is enough in my heart, but some days I just have a bad day and have a hard time seeing the victory beyond the bad day I just had.  Collectivism is difficult for me to grasp.  This is certainly an area that keeps people in poverty.  I grew up in such a dangerously individualist culture that the flip side is hard for me to understand.

As Christians we must follow the culture of Commonism.  I learned this from Kevin Steele.  He preached a really good sermon on this a few years ago.  As Christians we must have all things in common and not consider things our own.  This is distinct from communism and not the same thing at all.  It certainly isn't individualistic, and it is a far cry from collectivism.  It is borne out in the context of relationships and cannot be coerced or forced.  Collectivism ultimately says that I have a right to demand whatever you have and take it for my own personal use.  This is criminal, not biblical.  

I have seen the devastating effects of this during discipleship and have come to believe that in order to break free from it for some people it should be handled similarly to a drug addiction where the person has to break free from their environment for a time in order to learn how to live without it.  When participating in collectivism on this level from birth everyone feels a sense of guilt that they owe it to someone to give the thing they are asking for, because they have done the same thing at other times in their lives.  Even if someone begins to break free, earn their own living, and start making progress the demands of the collectivist culture will eventually break them down until they give in and go back to where they started.  This is even more true if they have someone supporting them.  Their family and friends will pressure them to get as much out of the supporter as they can until they have tapped out the resource completely, at which point they begin looking for the next supporter.  Pastors, community leaders, and government are judged based on their ability to provide for the community.

With many doors closing around us and in order to gain perspective we have been attending church services more frequently at Respire.  It has been a privilege to be able to preach there some more and support what is being started there.  All of us around here as English speaking believers have come to recognize our need for each other and come together to be the church to each other first.  The fruit from this becomes our ministry to others.

I was carrying a mix of Haitian and American friends loaded in the back of my truck to a service on Sunday morning when I heard a loud noise and then felt the truck lean cripplingly sideways.  My family and friends walked the rest of the way up to the church service while Luke and I stayed back to check out the truck.  I tried calling PaVle a few times but couldn't reach him.  I pulled the front tire off and didn't see anything that would prevent us from driving it home.  We locked the doors and walked up for the service.

We limped the truck home and basically fit in with most of the Haitian cars on the road.  Most people didn't even pay attention to our distorted silhouette as we passed.  We made it home with no issues other than we had to drive real slow.  PaVle came and found the problem.  He was able to buy the part the next day, and replace it the day after.  

God opened the door for us to be able to continue ministering to one of the boys removed from the orphanage next door after being placed in a loving orphanage.  This orphanage is committed to reunification if at all possible.  While traveling back and forth to there every day we had to keep a close watch on the local riots in order not to get stuck in them.

Almost every day people were blocking one of the main bridges on the route and rioting.  The police were having a difficult time getting it under control.  The people were trying to get their share from the aid traveling south.  They had some problems in their area and decided to riot in order to get their portion. Several days got pretty violent.  Finally things quieted down.

One morning right before we arrived we started smelling smoke.   Smoke started coming out of the A/C vents and from under the gear shift.  I stopped the truck and checked out everything, but couldn't find the source.  It didn't do it again until the next evening.  I had PaVle check it out, but he couldn't find anything either.  I have finally narrowed down the problem to something with the headlights.  PaVle has a good electrician that is planning to take a look at it later this week.

Some of the things I see here are so shocking, disturbing, and unbelievable that I tend to look for way longer than I should because my mind can't even process what is going on.  Then the image becomes forever stamped in my mind and I have to really pray about it so that God can give me back some of my innocence.  Driving home one evening I noticed something on the side of the road while crossing over the big bridge in Leogonne.  A tall dark figure was walking among the large piles of trash as mist fell and the smoke from the burning piles drifted up behind him.  I was in such disbelief that I stared trying to figure out if I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing.  A tall man with wild hair was wearing a very large ladies bra longways on his body.  That was all he was wearing and it wasn't covering up anything.  My family had already noticed before I could even yell out not to look.  Lord Jesus come quickly.

Even before the hurricane the political situation was heating up and it became dangerous to travel to Port-au-Prince.  Reports of foreigners being targeted and kidnappings were beginning to surface.  Then there is always the regular rioting.  We have relied on at least a once a month trip to stock up on ground meat and haven't been able to do that in a couple of months.

One day after church I picked up some garlic flavored Spam from a store in Leogonne.  I fried some eggs and the Spam to make some Spam and eggs sandwiches.  The only takers were Luke, Anna, and myself.  Anna stuck with one sandwich, but Luke and I went for two each.  The first few bites of the first sandwich were delicious.  What happened next must have been just having too much of a good thing.  Luke was down to his last few bites of his second sandwich and then just couldn't take any more.  I told him just to stop eating, but he has too much of his father in him so he didn't.  He started gagging and then finally swallowed down last bite.  The earlier mentioned hair wasn't enough to bother me, but watching Luke struggle through the garlic, Spam, and egg did me in.  I couldn't finish my second sandwich and had to call it quits.  Maybe there is hope for me after all.  

So how do we measure success?  The capitalist in me says to make some charts and document observable and measurable results.  The Jesus in me knows better.  This is more about Him than me.  
I am learning to take things day by day and give the glory to Christ.  I am learning that the success of a missionary cannot be measured in results, but obedience to our daily calling.  I am learning to be OK with planting one day, watering another day, reaping another day, and not all from the same field and not all at the same time.  I am learning that I just have to get out there and inevitably make some mistakes.   Then ask forgiveness.  Then I become a better listener.  The fruit of my relationship with Him is what becomes ministry to others.

1 Corinthians 3:5-8  5 What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe-- as the Lord has assigned to each his task.  6 I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow.  7 So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.  8 The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor. 

Psalm 10:12-18  12 Arise, LORD! Lift up your hand, O God. Do not forget the helpless.  13 Why does the wicked man revile God? Why does he say to himself, "He won't call me to account"?  14 But you, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand. The victim commits himself to you; you are the helper of the fatherless.  15 Break the arm of the wicked and evil man; call him to account for his wickedness that would not be found out.  16 The LORD is King for ever and ever; the nations will perish from his land.  17 You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry,  18 defending the fatherless and the oppressed, in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more. 

I remember being taken back the first time I heard them referred to as petting zoos.  My initial reaction was defensive.  Reality began to sink in as the explanation was given for the description.  The man I was talking with wasn't even talking about the orphanages that neglect and abuse children.  He was referring to the “good” non adoption orphanages.  It took me a while to prayerfully process what he was saying before reality began to sink in.

The man that was explaining the situation to me was giving me his opinion about the orphanage situation in Haiti.  His opinion was that it was all about money.  You have a place where young children are kept and then advertised to supporters as orphans.  The reason for non adoption is a steady stream of income for the lifespan from childhood to adulthood.  Supporters are offered opportunities to visit with their sponsored child and have an emotional experience with them.  Language barriers, cultural barriers, time, and distance all put a significant barrier between the supporter and child they are sponsoring.  They will never know the truth.  They will never know that most of the children actually have parents.  Most have a mother, father, and other siblings all living at home.  Of course there are a few true orphans in the mix, but these are few and far between.  Even if they are true orphans, why not try to get them into a real family?  Why keep them for their entire childhood in an institution?

Most of these questions and concerns are justified by the operators of these institutions as a better alternative to living in a state of abject poverty with their biological family.  Sometimes this actually may be true.  However, now there is a systemic problem that has been created where record numbers of parents are readily willing to legally (and sometimes illegally) abandon their children to an orphanage operator.  This creates an environment ripe for anyone to exploit the national natural resource of neglected children for financial gain.  Sometimes their motives are pure out of a desire to see their children live a better life than they are able to provide.  Sometimes.  The reality is that most are abandoning their children out of a selfish desire for personal gain.  Sometimes that gain comes in a monetary compensation for the initial abandonment.  Most of the time it comes from a long term continued relationship with the child under orphan care in a hope that the child will be able to provide monetary support for the family at some point.  Such was the case with the orphanage next door to my house as explained to me by the children that lived there. 

If petting zoos became the often referred to term for the good orphanages, then slave camps became the equivalent for the bad ones.  Even worse, most of this is done under the guise of the Christian mandate given by James to look after the orphans.  Most of the operators are officially ordained and licensed clergy.  Most have churches on site with regular services.  They attract large groups of people to long worship services where singing, preaching, and praying go on for hours several times a week.  All the while the most vulnerable little ones among them are living through a hell that transcends verbal description.

The children that would come to my house for food explained to me that a lady showed up at their house one day and promised their parents that their children would be given an education, a good place to live, food to eat, and a passport to the United Sates.  Once in the United States the children would then be able to send back money to their parents.  Here lies both the bait and the problem.  This seems to be the goal that is most sought after.  A product of missionary influence on the culture.  Life support.  That one person that can become my provider.  If God would just send me that person then all of my problems would be solved.  I would be the recipient of regular receiving at the Western Union office.  Even if it means at the expense of my child. 

For years this has actually been the case.  Orphanages have tried to help the children inside get to the US.  Once in the US where they work and receive a regular income, they send regular money back to their families here.  The dream that this could happen for a family here is so tempting that even when the truth is revealed they have a very difficult time receiving it.  This is what I witnessed.

The children that would show up at my house all had family that they had regular contact with except for two.  The ones that had phone numbers I encouraged to call their families and tell them the truth.  At first the children were afraid and only made small talk.  As time went on the small talk turned into hints.  Finally a full breakdown with tears and begging to come get them and bring them back home. Even with the tears and begging it took months for the parents to begin to wake up.  With the help of authorities the truth finally became known.  One by one the parents came.  Jameson was the last.  I received a phone call one day from a number I didn't recognize.  It was Jameson.  He said that he was now living with his father again and he wouldn't be able to visit my house anymore.  Praise the Lord!

The problem is so widespread.  The descriptions that have been given to me by other Americans that actually lived and worked inside orphanages similar to this one are horrendous.  The neglect is only a small piece of the puzzle.  On the surface many of these are simply exploiting children's face for personal financial gain.  They pocket the money and the children never get the care they need.  This would be bad enough, but it gets so much worse.  Sexual abuse is usually the second most common thing mentioned.  In one instance it was in conjunction with the participation of an American man that is still doing this.  Other reports involve actual systematic torture.  All under the Haitian version of a steeple.

Albertson kept showing up for food regularly after Jameson was taken back home.  His tooth had been mysteriously broken at the same time I was subpoenaed and had now became abscessed to the point that I was afraid he might die from infection.  Through a connection made by the hand of God I was able to visit with our new magistrate and discuss the situation with him.  It took many weeks, but things slowly began to move forward.

The first news of a small victory came in the form of a Facebook post to our ex pat community here.  It explained that an orphanage had received a few young children in the night.  They were brought there by several government agencies.  They had no paperwork, were not told where they came from, and one of the children didn't even know his name.  They were malnourished and in need of medical attention.  Through a series of events we were able to confirm that these came from next door to our house.

I have really been trying to increase my fluency with Creole and also learn French.  I try to read the French bible out loud sometimes to help my understanding.  One day I was sitting in my rocking chair and decided to read all the way through a short book.  Jude is short.  Just one chapter. So I read it in French out loud.  It is interesting some of the things you find in the book of Jude such as Jude 1:11-12  11 Woe to them! They have taken the way of Cain; they have rushed for profit into Balaam's error; they have been destroyed in Korah's rebellion.  12 These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm-- shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted-- twice dead. 
As soon as I finished reading the book the magistrate called.  He explained to me that he was continuing to move forward.  Immediately after I got off the phone with him I received a cryptic text message that I still haven't been able to understand.  It is actually possible that it wasn't intended for me.  The timing however, just seemed too close to be coincidental.

Then one day I received a call from my contact.  The orphanage was officially being shut down as we spoke.  The children would be relocated and the orphanage that was there would no longer be allowed to function.  I don't know where the children are now.  It is in God's hands.  The emotions connected with this are difficult to describe.

It seems that we try with vain effort to take care of ourselves here physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  We still try.  I started making some dumbbells recently out of old cans, some pipe, and concrete.  They actually came out pretty good.  Now if I would only take the time to use them I might be getting somewhere.

Tarantellas continue to be problematic.  In his famous book The Spider and The Starfish, Rod Beckstrom describes the power of leaderless organizations and movements like a starfish compared to a spider.  His analogy shows that if you cut the head off a spider it will die, but if you cut a starfish in half it actually makes more starfish due to its regenerate qualities.  After living here I know now where his fatal flaw lies in this analogy.  I actually think that spiders offer a better analogy for organizations that have effective leaders that create more leaders.  It is true that  a spider will die and not regenerate.  However God gave spiders the ability to create countless babies.  Not every time, but often when you squash a spider they will explode into thousands of tiny baby spiders that run everywhere and creep the heck out of you.

For this reason I continue to use the blow torch method as my number one go to for tarantella extermination.  Even if they are filled with a disgusting sack of babies, they will all be torched together.  Down with tarantellas.

All of our gray water is set up to just run outside with an open pipe third world Mad Max style.  This allows an open inlet to creatures that would like to come in my house and give me a heart attack in the middle of the night.  Just like the itsy bitsy spider that climbed up the waterspout I noticed a giant tarantella in my tub at 2 am that gave me a big shout.  So I torched it.  I always use my flashlight  to look all around and under the toilet lid so I am not surprised by a bite on the butt.

Then there was the night that I was bathing.  Remember that this involves getting a cup of water from the bucket near the tub and pouring it over myself.  I had just finished a complete body lather of soap and shampoo when I felt something bump from my head down my shoulder and along my body.  Then I noticed a tarantella in the bottom of the tub that had decided to join me and was now experiencing the sensation of slip sliding around in the suds that had descended to the tub.  I could have easily just smashed it with my cup, but that isn't my style.  I climbed out of the tub and walked to my bedroom where the can of bug spray and lighter lay just on the other side of the door.  I came back and torched it.  I raked the charred remains out of the tub and finished my shower.

It was bittersweet to spend our last Sunday officially at Mission of Hope International Church in Grand Goave before the step out to begin planting churches in our mountain area.  Pastor Lex called our family up to the front, gave us a blessing and then had the other leadership lay hands on us and pray for us.  There were some tears shed, but we know that we will still see each other often.

For a couple of weeks we met with a group of ex pat believers meeting together in Gressier.  It was really good to meet up with them.  The first time we visited we just listened to worship music on mp3 and listened to a sermon from John Piper.  It was so simple, but so refreshing.  It showed me what true church was.  A group of redeemed meeting together for two reasons.  Our recognition of our total dependence on Christ, and a recognition of our total dependence on each other.  It reminded me of my own frailty.  I came to Haiti ready to conquer.  Now I just feel conquered.  In a better position to listen and learn.  A better position of weakness to see the strength of Christ.  However, I now have new broken areas that have been exposed that must be addressed.

Discipleship continues but looks so different now.  It has an urgent more mission focused feel to it now that we have moved into church planting.  We were going through gospel sharing strategy with the group one Saturday when we notice people climbing on top of our wall and walking along it.  The new owners of the beach area near our house have put up a fence and a gate in order to keep the beach more private.  Undeterred by a rightful attempt to block off unwanted traffic from private property hordes of people continued to seek the route of least resistance.  This route happened to be along the top of our concrete wall.

This helped me make the decision to put barb wire along the wall.  When I was in BUDs, the instructors use to have a running joke.  They told us the reason that we were made to keep our knives so sharp was not for the enemy.  It was to stab our swim buddy in case we saw a shark.  This way you don't have to out swim the shark, just your swim buddy.  I guess this is what it is like to live in Haiti.  You don't have to have a good enough boundary to keep people out, just a better boundary than your neighbor.  As long as your boundary is more difficult to traverse than your neighbor's, then people will stay out of yours.  So begins the battle to keep up with the Joneses Haitian style.  One wall meets another.  One wall grows taller.  Barb wire and broken glass are placed along the top.  Every time a breach is found someone exploits it.  Every exploitation of defense is met with a new layer of resistance.  The root cause still remains.

I watched this play out over the next few days as I placed barb wire along my wall.  No one I saw that attempted to pass the new gate the neighbor had put up were completely undeterred.  Every single person at least pondered all the possibilities.  Even if they did turn around, it was after a lengthy time of consideration.  I stood in disbelief as person after person tried to find some way around.  The children that were small enough just climbed underneath without missing a beat.  Many people looked first to the barb wire on my wall and then to me.  Without acknowledging me or saying a word they just started looking for another way.  People tried opening the gate even though it was clearly locked.  The route of least resistance became clear to most people in almost every case.  The neighbor across from me had no barb wire.  They just climbed through a barb wire fence and then over the wall on the far side.  It was incredible. The overt lack of respect shown for private property and fences by a sampling of a population gave some insight into some of the attitudes held here and some of the impasses met by people offering help.

I finally had to ask one guy what he was doing after he had successfully navigated the route of least resistance and now stood on the other side of the gate beneath me while I worked the barb wire on my wall.  He said plainly he was going to the beach.  I asked him why he didn't show respect for the fence and gate.  He said because if he went around it to a different section of the beach it would be a long walk.  He said he knew it was wrong, but it was easier.  Then he assured me he was a good man and a pastor's son.  I said that was even more of a reason to go around.  He said he knew I was right but planned to do it anyway.  About 1 minute later I heard a long string of yelling coming from down the beach road.  Obviously he had been busted by TiMouche who continues to be the caretaker.  His voice is unmistakable.  

I don't know how many times I have blogged this, but I still mean it.  Everything is harder in Haiti.  I do regular maintenance on our small generator.  It is our only source of power and I want to be a good steward of it.  The pull rope had already broken once and I was able to cut off the broken section and tie it off shorter before it was sucked into the depths of the engine compartment.  When another frayed section began to manifest and I knew it was nearing time to replace the rope before it broke while starting it right before bed one night.  

By some miracle our internet worked good enough to download a video from Youtube on how to replace it.  It was a great video that showed every single piece being removed before you could access the assembly.  It looked fairly simple, just time consuming.  I planned a day for it and started early in the morning.  It would have been easy if only the screws would have all come out – but they didn't.

I don't know what gorilla tightened all the screws that held that generator together but I was not having kind thoughts about him as I stripped out two heads and came close to stripping out more.  A job that should have taken an hour tops took all stinking day.  It was exhausting.  I finally got the whole thing apart, the pull rope replaced, and then back together with no actual damage.  I was actually driven to real tears twice.  I had to tap out the two bad screws with a hand drill and a tap set.  Glad I brought that to Haiti with me.  Before I put them back in I used a hack saw to cut slots in the top so I could use a flat head screwdriver.  One section was attached to the plastic housing and broke free immediately when I started baking out the bolt.  At least I had some JB weld to reattach when I put it back together.

After getting it all back together I prayed a whole bunch before attempting to fire it up.  It cranked right away and then purred like a kitten.  Praise God!  It ran great that first night.  The second night after the fix something bad happened.

I cranked it like usual and it fired up immediately.  The new longer pull rope made it even easier than ever.  It was effortless.  It ran for about five minutes and then died.  I tried cranking it about twice and then realized there must be some other problem.  I prayerfully opened the spark plug compartment and notice the spark plug had cracked in half.  Maybe I am just not a mechanic (which is very true), but in all my life I have never just seen a spark plug crack in half for no reason whatsoever.  At least this was an easy fix.  

I had an old spark plug that I keep as a spare so I just cleaned it and replaced the bad one.  I fired it back up and it has been purring away ever since.  I bought two new spark plugs in Leogonne the next day so I would have two spares.

The day finally came to put the gospel training to practice.  We headed up the mountains and watched God at work.  It was Luke and I along with Jean Franswa and Frenchy.  Jean Franswa struck up a conversation immediately after arriving at the mountain village with a guy that was clearing the weeds of of his yard with a hoe.  I would like to just say that the whole thing was just this awesome Holy Spirit – led encounter, which I am sure that it actually was.  But I swear it seemed like Jean Franswa was just in a hurry and was trying to get this over with.  It was like his attitude was, “OK, we know what we have to do, let's not fool around and just do it.”  Frenchy kept a written log of everything which displayed his attitude very clearly in the last lines where he said, “We were about to go deeper into the mountains when Brother Jean Franswa diverted us and took us back down where we ended up in Grand Fon.”

The guy and most of the village area had just relocated there from the island of LaGonav.  They were new to the area and didn't really know anyone.  The closest evangelical church was about an hour walk in any direction.  The man had already visited one, but they required him to dress in nice clothes to attend and he didn't have any so he never went back.  He said he had previously accepted Christ, had never been baptized, and was interested in going to church.  We offered to start a bible study at his house to which he graciously accepted.  We planned to start the next Sunday.  He offered to build some benches so we could sit beneath a tree in his yard.

The next house we visited a lady gave her life to Christ and other houses people expressed a desire to return to Christ that were far from Him.  They were all interested in going to the bible study at the first man's house.  This all happened in such a short amount of time that I really didn't know what to say.  I was kind of just there praying silently, speaking very little, and just watching it happen.  I just keep praying now and trusting God with the results.  I am very interested to see what God does next.

As I continue to ponder and pray about the orphanage situation here I realize that healthy church plants would be one answer to the problem.  If the church was healthy then the members would understand first their responsibility to care for their own children and second to care for the orphans in their midst by bringing them into their own families.  Ideally this would eradicate the need for institutional orphanages.  

Beyond this there must be at least two other things that must happen in my humble opinion.  The first is justice.  All the care in the world for orphans that come out of these institutions will not be enough until their captors are brought to justice.  Only then can true healing take place for the abused and other abusers fear the same consequences they have seen befall their comrades in crime.
Jeremiah 21:11-12  11 "Moreover, say to the royal house of Judah, 'Hear the word of the LORD;  12 O house of David, this is what the LORD says: "'Administer justice every morning; rescue from the hand of his oppressor the one who has been robbed, or my wrath will break out and burn like fire because of the evil you have done-- burn with no one to quench it. 

The final and most important piece is that the funding has to stop.  Right now most of these wicked institutions are being funded by American Christians and churches.  Many supporters don't want to cut funding even when they find out the abuses.  They fear that it will be worse for the children.  I assure you that it doesn't get any worse than this.  Ephesians 5:5-11   5 For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person-- such a man is an idolater-- has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.  6 Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God's wrath comes on those who are disobedient.  7 Therefore do not be partners with them.  8 For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light  9 (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth)  10 and find out what pleases the Lord.  11 Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. 

I keep praying that the orphanage that closed next door will be the first domino that topples them all.  It was a long battle, but we first went to our knees before God and prayed, gathered other prayer warriors, went to the proper authorities, went to the press, refused to bribe,  and provided aid to the victims as best we could during the process.  We continued to press those in positions of authority simply to look at what was happening and do their job.  2 Corinthians 10:3-4   3 For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does.  4 The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. 

We must resist giving in to waging war as the world does.  God blesses His work when we partner with Him and His methods in a way that He gets all the glory.  The thing that evil systems fear the most is being exposed with the truth.  Never try to hide what is going on and always take risks to expose the truth.  John 8:32 Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." 

In the midst of all this as I was working with the barb wire I realized a comparison.  Ministering in Haiti is like working with barb wire.  You always get cuts when you are working with it, but often don't realize until you are finished that you are bleeding all over.  There were several times when I would finish that someone would point out, “Hey! You are bleeding!”.  I didn't even realize it until they told me.  Our family is on the other side of this particular battle right now and rejoice in the victory that God has allowed us a small part to share in, but it has come at a price.  We recognize our weakened position right now and the need for some healing.  I know the cuts will heal in time, but we will continue to bear the scars.  I also know that this is just the beginning of this fight.  As I begin to recognize my own weakness I also begin to recognize the abundant strength of Christ.  John 3:30  He must become greater; I must become less.  

1 Peter 5:6-11   6 Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.  7 Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.  8 Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.  9 Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings.  10 And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.  11 To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.   

Matthew 13:3-9   3 Then he told them many things in parables, saying: "A farmer went out to sow his seed.  4 As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up.  5 Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow.  6 But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root.  7 Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants.  8 Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop-- a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.  9 He who has ears, let him hear." 

Sometimes it gets to me.  Daily wading through the rotten fruit of devil worship, corruption, self serving systems, false pastors, scams, relentless begging, and the like.  Sometimes we all get battle weary from having to be on such high alert from the daily barrage of constant attempts to take advantage of the slightest crack of an open door of opportunity to get something we might have so someone else can use it for personal gain.  However, I recognize that my own sin has contributed to the state of this world and the corruption we see around us.  I also recognize that only the grace of a loving God through the blood of Christ has saved me from living a life devoted to the practice of these things.  He has now sent me to be a light in the darkness and proclaim His kingdom.  So sometimes I try to be nice and take a risk.  And sometimes I find that I just threw my pearls before swine.  But even in this the grace of God prevails, and somehow I get out before they turn and trample me to pieces.  

As I was sitting on the beach one Sunday afternoon in between church services working on my laptop because it was the only place I could get a decent internet signal, I was approached by a man holding an old rice sack.  He explained that he had six lobsters and wanted to sell them.  He showed them to me and they were beautiful and in good shape.  He told me how much he wanted for them and they were a regular, fair, Haitian price.  I was happy to pay him for them and we had a good Sunday afternoon meal.  

A few weeks later the guy came back and asked if I wanted to buy some more lobster.  I knew we were having guests so we arranged a time for him to come and settled on a new inflated price.  Not cool, but he assured me these would be much bigger than the last ones so the price would be worth it.  He showed up on time with a sack full of lobster.  I told him to wait so I could get a bucket and he could have his bag back.  He said it wasn't necessary and said he was in a hurry.  I could just keep the bag.

I paid him the agreed price and then transferred them to a bucket anyway.  Most of them were much smaller than the other ones and two had been long dead.  At least they were cold and he said he had kept them in a freezer.  I knew I was getting shafted, but went along with it because I at least wanted to keep up my end of the bargain.  

While washing the lobster one of the cold ones came in half and didn't look so good, but at least it didn't smell bad.  We boiled all of them and I decided to take one for the team and eat the bad one.  Hey, I paid for it so I was going to eat it.  I thanked God for His provision and started eating.  It fell all apart as I was trying to get it out of the shell and tasted pretty bad, but for some reason I ate the whole thing.  After the last bite I started seeing spots and feeling pretty sick.  Big surprise.  Then I remembered that some friends had given me some charcoal pills.  This seemed like a perfect opportunity to try them out.

Amy brought them out to me and I broke one open and poured it into a small glass of water.  I drank the black concoction and waited a few minutes.  Somehow I started feeling a little better just knowing that I was taking some form of control over the situation.  I prayed a whole bunch not knowing if I should ask for forgiveness, or mercy or what.  Just help please, Lord.   I opened another one, mixed it up and drank it, too.  At this point I started to feel genuinely better.  After an hour I was still not back to normal so I drank another one.  After number 3 I was pretty healthy again.  Thank you Lord for provision and for friends that give charcoal pills.

The same guy showed up a few weeks later and wanted to know if I wanted to buy some more lobster.  The Holy Spirit got a hold of me and I actually remained calm and patient as I explained what happened and how there was no way no how I was ever going to buy anything from him again.  I guess he thought it would just be limited to lobster because then he tried to convince me to buy fish, and if I bought fish I would have a completely different experience.  Somehow I continued to remain calm, but tried to make it abundantly clear that I would never buy anything from him again.  At this point he just asked for money so he could buy a lottery ticket.  I was struggling to believe my ears and started blankly long enough for him to repeat his question several times phrased in different ways so that there was no mistake he was asking for money to buy a lottery ticket.  I simply said, “no”, that people without wisdom were the only ones that buy lottery tickets and I wouldn't support it.  He seemed satisfied that he had tried enough and had tapped out this blan for everything he could get.  He shook my hand, smiled, and left.

It is nice when you can find someone with a good work ethic.  The guys like the lobster dude make you want to support them even more.  The welder guy finished making a cover for the back of our truck.  It is complete with benches and a back door that locks from the inside.  He did an excellent job, finished on time, and charged me the agreed on amount.  He explained to me that the technical term for this thing is called a kowousri.

PaVle tried fixing the electrical issue with the AC in the truck.  It lasted 1 day.  At least I know where to poke at the fuse box when it goes out.  As long as I poke at the right relay it comes back on again.  

I have been planning for a while to lift the truck.  It is nice to have a taller truck when passing through flood waters and climbing mountains.  PaVle has a large metal box with a rusted lock on it in front of his house.  When I told him what I wanted to do, he broke the lock off the box, dug around for about 15 minutes, and then pulled out two larger leaf springs that were perfect for the job.  He said we would lift the back first and then the front.

After he finished the rear, we went to Port-au-Prince to find larger shocks.  I hate going to the parts market.  Every time I go there I only hear the timeless words of Obi Wan Kenobi echoing in my ear, “You'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainry...”. We snaked through the alleys of people, parts, junk cars, people working on their cars, people selling stuff, and all with just enough room to pass that you couldn't pass a hair between us and them.  The deeper we went in the more my stomach sank, the less options we had for exit, and the tighter the situation became.  We continued until literally we couldn't go any more.  Apparently we had arrived.

In front of us lay a mass of broken cars and people working on them.  Just beyond them was a giant penitentiary.  The tops of the walls were crumbled like a castle from an ancient toppled regime.  PaVle assured me that the place was still operational and there were plenty of prisoners inside as we sat.  He hopped out of the car and went walking around.  Luke and I waited inside with the doors locked.  Because the road was blocked, more people started to pile up behind us like debris behind a beaver dam on a flooded creek.  Hopelessness of ever getting out of there began to slowly creep over me like a black fog.

I always try to ask for clarity on what is going on, but with PaVle you can never be too sure.  I just kind of go with the flow and trust him to make good decisions for us.  He always comes through.  We had discussed getting duplicate keys made for the truck and I didn't know if this particular location was for the keys, the shocks, both, or something else entirely.  We waited for about 5 minutes and PaVle reemerged from the shanty shops and asked for the keys.  I guess this was the key place.

I handed him my only set of keys for the truck which required me to kill the ignition and surrender my only means of possible escape.  I just sat there with the windows rolled up, baking in the truck turned solar oven while I waited.  After just long enough for us to become completely saturated with sweat, PaVle returned with new sets of keys and an old man with an angle file.  Apparently they don't have key machines on Mos Eisley and you have to find an old man with an angle file if you need duplicate keys made.  He tried all the duplicates and they worked with the exception of one.  He went back in, made the necessary adjustment, and it worked. I paid him, started my truck, and then sat trying to figure out how in the heck we were going to get out of this place.

PaVle hopped in the truck and sat down like no big deal.  I just waited a minute looking ahead for the gravity of the situation to register and finally he said, “Hey, would you like for me to get out and help direct you out of here?”  What a great idea!  I would really appreciate it.  At least we had AC going again and we were starting to feel life come back.

After asking all those in the log jam behind me to move slightly out of the way I was able to start creeping backward.  Out of all the miracles mentioned in the Bible for some reason two always stand out to me and hit me emotionally – Balaam's talking donkey and Naaman getting cured from his leprosy.  I have no doubt that backing up for 3 straight blocks out of the backside of the parts market without so much as a scratch let alone a major accident is no less of a miracle.  Once we were free from the great raft it was time to look for shocks.

Of course the road we needed to take to get there was impassable, but PaVle assured me that we would just start and it would clear up eventually.  30 minutes of inching our way forward later we arrived near the business that sold the shocks we needed.  At least this time I was on a street that was not completely blocked, but I was still in the way and had to constantly make minor adjustments to my location the entire time I waited.  Finally PaVle showed up with a piece of cardboard and some other guy.  They put the cardboard down, climbed under the truck, and then were off again.  A few minutes later he came back with a receipt.  I paid him and he came back with a box of parts.  Finally we were done and on our way home.

A couple of days later he came over to the house to install everything.  He pulled out all kinds of parts and greased them and had it all back together in a few hours.  The best part about working with him is that he loves Christ and is honest.  It is so awesome to be able to support someone that God has gifted to work and they give glory to God for the gift they have and the work they do.

The same night he finished the truck we went to a worship service with our discipleship group at Respire in Gressier.  It was great to climb the mountain and pass over the gaping holes unscathed as we made our way to the top.  We came home in a rainstorm, just missed a major accident, dropped off the discipleship group in Grand Goave, parked in the driveway and the truck died.  Well Lord, thanks for getting us all the way to our doorstep before killing it.

I tried in vain to start it the next day.  I looked up stuff on the internet and poked at wires but got nowhere.  PaVle wouldn't answer his phone all day and finally I got in touch with him around 9 pm.  He showed up at 6 am the next day and had it running again in about 30 minutes with a bypass so we could get to church on time.  After church we headed to Petit Goave so his AC/Electric shade tree mechanic friend could fix it.  I sat in the back of a junk truck and hung out with his kids while him and PaVle fixed the problem.  At least it runs well again, but I still have to poke at the fuse box at least once a day to get the air going.  At least it is consistent about starting up again when it goes out.

After getting the truck raised I bought some new tires from a place in Leogonne so I could have something with mud grips.  The guy there gave me a good deal, but they don't mount the tires at the same place you buy them.  I took the tires to Grand Goave where a guy and his son run a manual labor tire changing station.  I have used him before and know he does a good job and doesn't try to cheat people.  His 15 year old son is the one that mostly runs the stand and does the work with a band of kids around age 10.  He said he could change all 4 tires in about an hour for 12 US dollars.

He showed me where to park and they got to work immediately.  The kids started yelling commands at each other and they had the tires off in no time.  It was pretty amazing to watch as they worked together like a team.  The 15 year old mounted the new tire with some homemade tire tools while the band of 10 year olds did the jack work and rolled tires back and forth.  In the midst of this entertainment a man in his 30's came up and asked me to give him money.  I told him no and then he began to infiltrate the kids and start to feign work with the tires.

I told the kid in charge that I was not going to pay that man and if he wanted him working then he would have to pay him himself.  He just left things alone and finished the job.  When it was over the guy came to me and said he should be paid for the work he did.  I told him that I had already made a deal with the shop boss and paid him.  If he wanted any money he would have to work it out with him.  He called over to the 15 year old that I had paid and the kid just stared at him and made the sign of cutting his throat with his finger from ear to ear.  The guy got the picture and walked away.

We started experimenting with the well drilling rig.  We used a long pry bar to get the hole started and made it to about 3 feet the first hour – and then inched our way after that.  We found rock after rock and pried them up out of the ground.  We tried using the rig, but couldn't bring up the broken bits of rock because there wasn't even enough dirt to hold them together.  After 3 feet I had to invent another tool using an old piece of can and a long branch to form a makeshift shovel scoop.  It actually worked pretty well and we made it to 5 feet the next day.  We finally hit some sand and I am hopeful we will be able to continue with the rig.

All of that rock and hard digging is like a natural metaphor for the hearts of those that inhabit the land.  It certainly feels that I am always digging in rocky soil. It can certainly be discouraging. 

During discipleship group that week Luke's group decided to turn against him.  They started speaking in a made up language that only their group could understand and conspiring how they could get him in trouble.  The good news is he figured it out and explained to me what was going on.  He finally gave them an ultimatum.  Either they could knock it off and listen, or they could leave.  They decided they didn't have to do either and I finally had to get involved.  Upon escorting them out they decided to be disrespectful to me also.  I ended up having to yell at them and throw them out.  Not a good day.

That Monday I went to talk to their parents and explain what happened.  Two days later two of them showed up at our house to apologize.  A third the next week.  Things were OK for a while, but then got bad again.  Finally one decided to separate himself out from the other two and remain with us.  Around this same time one of my guys decided to drop out of the group and another one stays on the fence.

As if in response to all this God sent a new guy.  I had met him last year when he was going around with his soccer team raising support.  I wanted to provide some support for their team again this year and was praying for God to bring me in contact with him again if he wanted me to do this.  The next day I saw him on the beach again for the first time since last year.  After this we started to get to know each other and he began discipleship.  He goes by Frenchy.  

I was sitting on the beach one day while the boys were swimming and the girls were playing in the grass when a young girl about the same age as Abby and Ann came up with only pants and no shirt.  This is not highly unusual, but is still out of our comfort zone.  She tried to play with my girls by they were a little unsure of her and so kept her at a distance.  She came over and I talked to her for a while.  She was nice, but obviously had some mental issues.  Her name was Adelsia.

After talking for a while I asked her about the burn marks on her body as well as the fresh cuts on her arm.  She said her dad had done that to her for leaving the house without telling him.  I asked if he knew where she was now.  She explained that she had come down to the beach with her sister so it was OK.  She said that her dad was into Voodoo and her mom was a Christian.  She explained where she lived and I knew the place.  Right next to a voodoo temple.

Luke, Wesley, and I were able to attend a soccer game where Frenchy and his team were playing.  I was able to pray with the team before the game started.  This is a league for young men and had a completely different atmosphere from the last game I attended.  It was on a full size field with full size goals.  We were able to watch for about 20 minutes before a massive downpour complete with thunder and lightning started.  

Some people recently bought the land surrounding us that leads to the beach.  TiMouche has been working for them to clean it up.  Step one involved clear-cutting the place with the exception of fruit trees.  They cut all the decent wood into 3 feet long sections and stacked it in various places. Everything else they let dry for a week and then set the whole thing on fire.  The entire section in front and to the left side of our house turned into a massive inferno billowing with smoke and ash for about 2 hours. Before they started it was lush and green.  It now looks like an apocalyptic wasteland. 

Once they completed decimating everything green and full of life, they dug a giant hole and filled it in with all the sticks.  They then covered it with rocks and dirt and set it on fire to make charcoal.  For 2 straight weeks now we have been living like Pompeii in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius right before the eruption.  The good news is there have been slightly fewer mosquitoes.  Every cloud has a silver lining.  Even smoke clouds. 

In the area where we plan to begin evangelism and potential church planting I am only aware of one evangelical church.  Through mutual acquaintances I was able to finally meet the pastor.  The church is next to his mother's house, but he lives in Port-au-Prince and has several churches that he manages.  He basically said that they were doing OK but didn't yet have a blan to provide financial support.  I was very straightforward with the fact that I was not that person.  

I discussed what my church planting strategy and he decided to impart some wisdom on my plan and saying that this is not the way they do it in Haiti.  He explained that the pastor is the central figure and is looked at to be a source of financial support for the church.  Especially if you are a blan the expectation to provide regular food and material resources is even greater.  

I explained that in order for a church plant to be considered a success the church must be able to stand on its own without receiving further outside support.  He basically just laughed at me and said good luck with that.  We also discussed the difference in our understanding of the word church.  I was talking about people – the body of believers.  He was talking about a building.  I explained that if you found a group of people that would worship God standing in the mud with the rain falling down and they would thank God for sending the rain that then you would find the church.  He at least understood what I believed, but disagreed.

I did agree to preach at his church during a Sunday morning service.  The first 45 minutes included a 3 person tag team with him included where they complained about all the things they didn't have and all the things they needed.  It was actually pretty difficult to sit through.  It reminded me of the children of Israel complaining to God after having been delivered from Egypt and him sending a giant earthquake to open up the ground and swallow them.  I started looking for a nice exit in case something like that happened.

When it was finally time to preach I preached in Creole.  It really is amazing the difference in connection that there is between preaching in the native tongue of the listeners and using an interpreter.  I just preached the gospel.  Two people gave their lives to Christ.  One older lady on her knees with tears in her eyes.  Praise the Lord.  Jesus promised us suffering.  That all men would hate us on account of Him, but the reward is worth it.  I look forward to worshiping Him around His throne with that lady in eternity.    

I have been putting together material for evangelism training in prep for church planting.  I was able to put it to use almost immediately when I connected with another young man that use to come to our English class.  I was taking him through a Creole and French version of the 3 circles tool and read all the associated scriptures.  When we were done he admitted that he was still in the section of sin. He wasn't ready to commit his life to Christ yet, but wanted to learn more.  We set up another meeting before he left.

Albertson and Jameson have been coming by to get food through our back fence almost daily.  I hadn't seen them for a while. Albertson had a really bad tooth and I was getting concerned about him.  He showed up a couple of days ago alone.  He explained that some extended family had come to get Jameson and he had an appointment to go to the hospital to get his tooth looked at.  It was a wonderful answer to prayer, but he was extremely sad to not have his friend with him anymore.  I found out later from a neighbor that a few days before many police had been inside and were continuing the investigative process.  As difficult as the waiting is at least I can see that God is still at work.  Just like digging that hole in the rocks.  

In Christ,
Laramie

1 Thessalonians 5:9-13   9 For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ.  10 He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him.  11 Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.  12 Now we ask you, brothers, to respect those who work hard among you, who are over you in the Lord and who admonish you.  13 Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work. Live in peace with each other. 

I tried calling the AC guy so he could fix the busted hose.  After a couple of days of no response I called Pa Vle and he explained that the guy was now living in America.  Good for him and bad for me.  At least Pa Vle knew another guy, but he lived in Ti Goave and we would have to drive to his house.  We woke up the next morning and drove up a mountain road finally arriving at a group of houses with just enough space to drive between if you didn't try to open the doors.  Pa Vle showed me the guys house and then had me keep driving to an area where we could turn the truck around with a 10 point turn.  He then instructed me to come back in front of the guy's house and pull under a tree surrounded by car parts and junk vehicles.  A literal shade tree mechanic.

The guy was very jovial and got right to work.  School was out so his kids were hanging around in the yard playing with junk.  They were very friendly and never asked me for anything.  They even came over and hung out with me in the back of a broken pickup to wait for their dad to fix my AC.  The guy had the broken part in his hand after about 30 minutes and explained what it would take to fix it.  We negotiated a good fair price and then he was off to the town on his scooter to find some things he needed to finish the job.

Meanwhile I hung out with his kids in the old pickup bed and watched the goats and chickens graze.  The whole process took about 4 hours.  In the end he had the AC blowing cold air again and I was happy to pay him a fair price for his work.  I brought Pa Vle back to his house and refused to take any money for his help.  He said he barely did anything and couldn't accept money for his small contribution.

Right now is tarantula  baby having season and they are out in droves.  After Amy killed a spider in the kitchen sink that exploded with countless babies upon impact I decided that we needed to take this war to the offensive.  Luke, Lance, and I took to the yard after dark with a can of bug spray and a lighter.  We found our first target almost immediately and lit it up.  The bug spray here is so explosively flammable that it is a little shocking each time you use it as a blow torch.  After the third one we had a good process.  Torch it for about 2 seconds to stun it, spray it for another two seconds, and give it one more burst of flame to set the liquid on fire.  It will usually continue to burn for about 30 seconds this way with no more intervention.  That night we had 8 confirmed kills and 2 unconfirmed.  We have averaged about 2 more per week in our house since then.

The day finally arrived for Ti Mouche to have his Visa appointment at the embassy.  He was sure that they would roll out the red carpet because I – the “blan” - was with him.  His hopes were dashed when they stopped us at the front gate and said that the appointment was only for him and there was no way I could accompany him.  There was another missionary lady from up north that was there for the same reason with the same result.  I was able to talk to her while we waited for our Haitian friends.  After about 2 hours they came out.  Her friend got a Visa.  Ti Mouche was refused.

After pressing him for what happened I finally got to the bottom of the story.  He went in with a good reason for a Visa, a letter from his friend that would receive him explaining the nature of the visit and specific locations he would go for farming education, his land deed, business license, and marriage certificate.  He never showed them any of the paperwork and just said that he wanted to visit the US because it was a beautiful place.  Well – we tried.

On the way back home we were passing Croix bo Sal and I noticed that traffic was slow in our direction and no cars were coming from the other direction.  Once we finally started moving again I noticed that there were hundreds of men gathering and walking in the direction of the National Palace.  I asked Ti Mouche what he thought to which he replied nonchalantly, “Maybe a manifestation”.  About 30 seconds later the all started running and yelling wildly.  We were surrounded and I just started praying.  At a fork in the road they started running one direction and we drove the other.  Ti Mouche said, “Oh, you see, It's nothing because they are going the other direction.”  I was extremely tense, but this was good enough for him and he just relaxed and barely paid any more attention.  I didn't start to feel any better until we were past Marianai and close to Gressier. 

Everyone is trying to leave Haiti right now by any means they can.  Merlande showed us a picture at a discipleship group meeting of a boat full of people that had been arrested in the Bahamas trying to get to the US illegally.  She said that many of the people were from Grand Goave and she knew them.  Once they were brought back to Haiti they were all sentenced to prison terms.  

Yvenson descended back into his old self pretty quickly.  It was sad to see and very disheartening.  After having some discussions with him I finally had to give up meeting with him.  The last time I tried he never showed up.  His uncle however, seized the opportunity to jump on the help wagon when he realized that Yvenson was now off.  He explained to me how sick he was and that he needed some medicine.  Wesley was there with me and verified that the old man's condition had almost killed him ant that it was a miracle he was alive.  I knew which church he belonged to and asked if he had already tried to get help from his own pastor.  He said that they helped him in the past but no longer would provide any help for him.  I knew the pastor and decided to verify the information.  I learned that so many people lie about this and usually fess up when I try to see if what they are telling me is true.

I called his pastor and he said the man was telling the truth.  They helped him in the past but now would not provide any more help for him.  I told the man to go to the hospital the next morning and I would meet him in the afternoon.  I knew he could get a free consultation at the Cuban hospital in town and they would give him a list of medicines.  I told him that if he gave me the list I would go with him to buy them.

The next day I went up the mountain with Wesley and Fan Fan to see Roger the voodoo priest.  A Girls In Action class from my home church in Louisiana – Sandy Creek Baptist Church – had made cards for him and I wanted to deliver them.  He seemed genuinely touched by the cards and brought them in his house to show them to his wife.  I translated them for him and explained what they were and what they meant.  He said that he was afraid to leave his current profession because he didn't think he would be able to make money another way and would be willing to leave it and follow Jesus only if he could find another way to make money first.  I explained to him that it didn't work this way.  I read to him Matthew 16:24-26   24 Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.  25 For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.  26 What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? 

He and his wife both looked genuinely sad, but refused to obey the gospel.  I asked him if I could pray for him and he let me.  This was the first time he allowed me to pray for him out loud at his house.  I pray that God will save his soul.

We left from his house and went walking deeper in the mountains.  We went to the house of another voodoo priest, but he was not home.  On the way back down the mountain we came across an old man with two obviously well trained small dogs.  He was barefooted with large feet and was carrying a small sack.  We talked to him for a while and he explained that he had been hunting for feral cats.  He usually gets at least one a day but had not gotten one today yet.  Haitians love to eat cats.  He uses the dogs to tree the cat and then shoots them with a homemade slingshot.  Things like this make me love Haiti.

After getting back into town I went to meet up with Yvenson's Uncle.  He was waiting where we agreed and he was holding a paper in his hand.  Before I could even see what the paper said he started explaining that he didn't have the money to go to the hospital.  I told him that I knew this was a lie.  The Cuban hospital will see the Haitians for free and give you a list of medicines you need.  After many excuses and other confusing explanations he finally gave me the paper.  It was a list of his kids names with school prices for the next school year.  All of his kids are in their early 20s.  I just handed him the paper back and walked away.

In Haiti it seems that somehow the church and the state are connected in an inseparable way.  In order to perform wedding ceremonies you must be recognized by the government and given a paper that says you are authorized.  I went with Pastor Titus to the office that performs this function to see what their requirements are. When I went out to start my truck that morning I found my battery dead.

I used our generator and a special 12V cable and connector to charge the battery and finally started the truck.  Pastor Titus and I drove to Grand Goave to buy a new battery, but the place that sells the batteries was not yet open – so we drove to the guys house that owns the store.  He was there and said his wife could open the store, but was currently in the market area so he gave her a call.  She met us at the store and sold us a new battery.  I installed it and we headed to Port au Prince.

We finally found the government office and parked the truck on the side of the dirt road across from the office.  We explained why we were there and they gave me a list of requirements.  As I was reading through them I could hear the people in the office beginning to discuss something among themselves.  The lady at the desk then took the list from me and asked me for my phone number.  She said that they had different requirements for foreigners but she didn't know what they were.  Once they figured out what the requirements were she would call me.  I still have yet to hear from them.

On the way back home we stopped at the propane filling station to refill a propane tank I had brought with me.  When I got back in the truck to head home it wouldn't start.  Some other guys brought their truck over so we could jump off my battery.  It still wouldn't start.  Because it has a standard transmission, we had another option.  Push it off.  I hadn't done that in more than 20 years and it took about 4 tries before I got it started.  

I called Pa Vle on the way home and he met me at his church because it had a shade tree that he could work under.   About 2 hours later he was ready to start it again.  We tried pushing it off again – because the battery was still dead.  However, we couldn't find enough space in the church yard to get it going.  He took a battery out of another vehicle to start it and then swapped it out with my new battery.  We waited about 20 minutes and then drove all around town and up the mountain to give the alternator a chance to start the battery.  We parked facing downhill for a test.  If it didn't start we could just start rolling downhill to get it going again.  Genius.

We gave it two test stops and starts.  No more problems.  I tried getting to the bottom of what the problem was and he couldn't exactly explain it.  All I know is that he spent 2 hours under my hood with tape and wires.  After that everything was fixed.  

I completed the English version of our first Bible study series that I have been writing for discipleship.  It is on the Church.  Who is the Church and how are we supposed to function.  Once the English version was complete I asked FanFan and the music leader from church to help me translate it into French and Creole.  It was actually a really enjoyable time of working together.  Sifting through dictionaries, discussing words, phrases, and comparing Bible translations.   The most difficult part was the Creole Bible.  It just doesn't jive with the other translations.  There are real problems with it that  are both discouraging and shed light on the lack of Biblical understanding among the majority of Haitians.  The truth is still in there, but it takes much more work and sifting through junk before you can find it.  My conclusion is that it is not a genuine translation, but somewhere between a paraphrase and a bad translation.

Luke has taken on leading a group of his friends through this study now that we have a completed version.  After the first three sessions Galy discovered his need for Christ.  After talking with him he confessed his sin problem, recognized the blood of Christ as the only solution, and received Christ as his Lord and Savior.  It was an awesome moment.  He is very teachable and brings so much joy as we watch him begin to grow in Christ.

Through my many trips to the mountains I have noticed a recurring theme.  Lack of clean water.  I have never seen any wells.  People get their water from natural springs.  Sometimes they walk for an hour or more each direction to these springs every day.  Because of this, I have been praying and brainstorming solutions.  Any solution I attempt to institute must meet the requirements of being sustainable, locally reproducible, and simple enough for the average Haitian to duplicate under current economic conditions.  I don't want to create more dependency on foreign aid, but instead want to empower the Haitians to be dependent on God alone and use the gifts he has given them to provide for themselves.

I had experimented with a very basic percussion well drilling rig a few years ago on our property in South Carolina with good results.  I had some good plans that included specs put out by UNICEF for free on their website for rigs that were used successfully in Africa.  They were cheap, used only manual labor, could be built with scrap metal in third world conditions, and could effectively drill as deep as you needed to go.  Wesley put me in contact with a new welder and I decided to try him out by making this rig.

He turned out to be a really smart guy in his late 20's that understood the specs and instructions very well.  He spent a few hours with me going over every detail making sure that he understood exactly what he needed to do.  Once we negotiated everything he actually wrote up the contract clearly and we both signed it.  I could tell that this guy was no ordinary welder and probed further about his personal life.  It turns out that he is welding so that he can put himself through law school.  He is almost finished and will have his certificate to practice law in December.  He has two houses and a fiancee that he wants to marry once he is finished with school.  He is also a Christian and is active in a local church.

He contacted me a few times during the process and wanted me to check things out so he could make sure that he was getting it right.  He finished on time and did an outstanding job.  This was my fourth try with a welder and I was starting to lose hope.  After 3 Ishmael welders I think God finally sent me the Isaac welder.  I hired him again right away to build a back cover for the truck so that we could carry more people when we go somewhere.

They have at least two levels of semi official local soccer games.  One is for the younger kids and the other is for young men.  The one for younger kids is close enough to our house that I can hear the games.  One afternoon Abraham and Galy stopped by and invited us to go watch a game with them.  It was a small dirt field about half the size of a basketball court with two small homemade goals at each end.  There was a concrete block wall on one side that people were sitting on, a guy with a three wheeled motorcycle filled with speakers blasting Haitian DJ music, and actual officials with whistles overseeing the game.

I was starting to get into the game pretty good and was actually enjoying myself when the half time show began.  5 girls from ages 18 to 7 came out and began dancing very provocatively to the music. I had to turn away out of embarrassment and the show continued long past the point of being uncomfortable all to the loud cheers and jeers of the spectators.  I breathed a sigh of relief when the show was completed only to notice that the local gang of 12 year old runaway thugs came onto the field clearly drunk and toting their moonshine in old soda bottles.  They came to disrupt the game and tried giving their moonshine to the goalies, who refused take any.  After a few good laughs from the crowd – including the officials – they were finally asked to leave.  After a few minutes of banter with the officials they finally went on their way and the game continued.  The DJ started up the music again, much of which consisted of English cuss words mixed with Haitian cuss words.  Well Lord, at least I know where the mission field is.

One afternoon as I was walking around the property I noticed some markings on one of our banana trees.  It turned out that someone had carved 3 skull and crossbones into the trunk.  I called Luke over to ask if he had done this and he told me he had no idea where it came from.  With the fence complete and the new gate intact the only way in is to climb over the fence or the wall.  Luke noticed some more markings on the other small house that is on the property.  I just cut crosses over the skulls and carved  
2 Timothy 1:7 over the markings on the house.  The Haitians warned me not to eat the bananas, but I just claimed them in the name of Christ and ate them anyway.  The were actually really good.

Mission of Hope church hosted their annual July conference and my pastor from our sending church in Georgia – National Hills Baptist Church – was invited to speak.  He came and brought his daughter Grace with him.  The Delta flights only come in late at night and leave early in the morning now which means that we have to be on the road in the dark both directions.  So I brought John Franswa with me to make sure that I could find my way if any route changes were necessary.  It was great to have him with me and made the trip more enjoyable.  It was so good to see Kevin and Grace at the airport.  

While Kevin was here we went up to an area close to our house where Luke and I had been warmly welcomed during our evening runs.  We went to visit a voodoo priest there named Jean Ely.  He was busy when we first got there coming out of his house holding some bowl of oil-like liquid, but invited us to sit and wait for him while he completed casting a spell for a customer.  We waited under a covered area next to the peristyle – voodoo temple.  After about five minutes we heard a very loud explosion come from inside and smoke billowed out the door.  Luke, Kevin, and I just looked at each other and didn't say anything.  After another five minutes I saw some money exchanged and Jean Ely came out to sit with us.

I explained who we were and why we were there.  He explained that his vocation had been passed down to him from his father.  It was a family business.  He then explained that he didn't believe in hell and thought Jesus was the best magician because he could perform miracles that no one else could.  I explained to him that Jesus was not a magician and he had ultimate power because he is God.  We can know from scripture that God condemns the use of magic.  He actually asked many very good questions and received us warmly.  He even sent someone down the hill to buy cold drinks for us.  We were able to talk for about an hour and then left.  I asked if we could come back again and he said we could, but he was very busy.  I asked if we could pray for him there, but he refused and said we could pray for him at our own house.

The conference went very well.  It was great to tag team preach with Kevin and to have him and Grace with us for the week.  Abby and Anna enjoyed having a friend to share time with for the week and Kevin's full personality brought laughs from everyone.  At the end of the week we were exhausted physically, but refreshed spiritually.  

Everyone was sad when it was time for them to go back home.  Jean Franswa rode with me to the airport again.  On the way back home the air conditioner went out again just as the sun was rising and heating things up.  After about 30 minutes we began to pour sweat and debated what the problem might be.  It started working again with no intervention as if to answer our question for us and prove that the problem was electrical.  I was very thankful that it worked the rest of the way home.  Thank you Lord for every good and perfect gift.  Even sporadic air conditioning.  James 1:17  Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. 

Mark 13:9-13  9 "You must be on your guard. You will be handed over to the local councils and flogged in the synagogues. On account of me you will stand before governors and kings as witnesses to them.  10 And the gospel must first be preached to all nations.  11 Whenever you are arrested and brought to trial, do not worry beforehand about what to say. Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking, but the Holy Spirit.  12 "Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child. Children will rebel against their parents and have them put to death.  13 All men will hate you because of me, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved. 

Luke turned 17.  It is a pretty big deal.  Our oldest child is about to officially be an adult.  We had a birthday party for him in conjunction with our discipleship group.  On the way to bring the group back to their house we noticed that traffic was just starting to back up.  It was a little after dark and we were trying to figure out what was going on.  After a little discussion we noticed three people laying in the road and a large pool of blood.  It appeared there had been a motorcycle accident.  We immediately started praying and then noticed a Red Cross vehicle come from behind and pick up the people that had been laying in the road.  Definitely dangerous to be on the road here anytime – especially after dark.

Our neighbor Junior came over the next day looking really tired and haggard.  He explained that his grandfather had died and they had a funeral.  After the funeral they had a special party for the dead.  His dad – who lives in America – sent some money for his mother to buy food for him and his sister.  The mom spent all the money on the party for the dead grandfather, people came from far and near to eat the food, Junior didn't get anything to eat, didn't get any sleep because of the party, and now all the money and food were gone.  

Somehow Luke and Junior got on the subject of good food, and Junior began explaining the best meat he had ever eaten was from a bird.  Through the explanation Luke started figuring out that maybe he was talking about a flamingo.  He went into our house and got a book with a picture of one so he could make sure.  When Junior saw the picture he confirmed that it was the bird he was talking about.  He said it was the best meat in the world.  Apparently a whole bunch of them flew in one day, his relatives shot all of them and they ate them all -  and they were delicious.

Every time I work on the fence I think about Nehemiah.  There must be something spiritual about setting a physical boundary that satan doesn't like.  Every time I begin it seems like there is a Sanballat and Tobiah standing near ready to throw out some harassment.  It is just beyond me to understand it, and it only makes sense in light of scripture.

For some reason I have become recently interested in Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  I bought the recent biography written by Eric Metaxas, his Cost of Discipleship, and even a movie based on the later events of his life.  I don't agree with all of his ethical conclusions or methods.  However, the fact that he could not sit idly by or withdraw to safety in the midst of Nazi controlled Germany is a clear example of a man of God leading by example.  He eventually lost his life for standing up for the Word of God during the reign of an evil regime.

I watched the movie the night before I was about to be interviewed by a Haitian reporter in regards to the orphanage situation next door.  I was asked to do this by another international ministry that has become involved in the situation.  I had the option not to do it, or I could even remain anonymous if I decided to go through with it.  After much prayer I decided to do the interview, tell as much as I knew, and be open about who I was.  I knew this would put my family and I in danger, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

As I pondered and prayed about this the famous exchange of dialogue between Esther and Mordecai kept repeating in my head. Esther 4:12 When Esther's words were reported to Mordecai,  13 he sent back this answer: "Do not think that because you are in the king's house you alone of all the Jews will escape.  14 For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?"  15 Then Esther sent this reply to Mordecai:  16 "Go, gather together all the Jews who are in Susa, and fast for me. Do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my maids will fast as you do. When this is done, I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish." 

I knew the safest place to be was squarely in the will of God.  Anything else would be folly and even more dangerous.  When David defied Goliath he did it openly, clearly, and with the name of God as his reason.  An open and clear presentation of the truth always brings the most glory to the name of God. 2 Corinthians 4:2 Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God. 

When the reporter came I opened with prayer and then just told everything I knew to the best of my knowledge.  I wrestled much afterward about how much I told, but just realized that I needed to tell what I knew, and trust God with the results.  I didn't make anything up.

We had been praying so much about the house rental situation, and every day here seems to hinge on a thread, that when a man showed up at our house within minutes after the interview was completed to sign a new 2 year contract under the existing terms I knew God was telling us to trust Him and he had a long term plan for us to be here.  The nephew of the man that owns the house showed up and said that everything was a go.  He spoke English, was very professional, and is an active member of a nearby church with his family.  It was actually a pleasant experience.  God's timing.

One of our friends called shortly after all this to tell us some good news.  His wife was pregnant.  We had played music at their wedding over a year ago and they had already been through one miscarriage.  We had been in constant prayer for another baby and this was a joyous call to get.  We went over to their house so that we could all pray together in person.

Shortly after this one of the investigator's on the orphanage case showed up at my house to explain that the orphanage had officially been put on the list for closure.  The children would be placed elsewhere based on what was in the best interest of the child.  I thanked him for coming by to explain what was going on.  About 10 minutes after he left I received a text message in French from a number I didn't recognize.  After using a French – English dictionary to help translate I finally concluded that the message was positive and was an encouragement for what I was doing and that I needed to continue.

Working on the fence in the Haitian heat and dirt makes you completely disgusting.  It is difficult to get really clean using 1 cup full of bucketed well water at a time.  Thankfully we live close enough to the ocean that I can go an wash my body, clothes, and all in the salt water before “showering” with the cup.  It was a refreshing treat one afternoon after returning from the ocean that God sent a wonderful rain storm.  The kids and I all headed to the roof with soap and shampoo taking advantage of the holy shower.

The interview was aired on the radio and television.  Several police officers and some of my neighbors were interviewed as well.  All of our reports confirmed what was happening.  People sought me out after the airing to tell me that I had done the right thing.  After church a guy that I barely knew pulled me aside and said that he knew the reports were true.  He said he had worked for the organization for several years and warned me that they were into voodoo and would definitely attempt retaliation.  

One afternoon Amy and the kids had walked to the beach area to enjoy the evening and were approached by the lady in charge of the orphanage.  She used her phone to video while making slanderous accusations about me such as I had burned down her house, stole her cow, and beat her horse to death.  Amy didn't say anything and the lady eventually walked away.  The next day we received a summons to appear in court.

The day of the court proceeding was Friday the 13th.  My daily bible reading that day was Psalm 68.  Psalm 68:1 May God arise, may his enemies be scattered; may his foes flee before him.  2 As smoke is blown away by the wind, may you blow them away; as wax melts before the fire, may the wicked perish before God.  3 But may the righteous be glad and rejoice before God; may they be happy and joyful.  4 Sing to God, sing praise to his name, extol him who rides on the clouds--his name is the LORD-- and rejoice before him.  5 A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.  6 God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land. 

The court proceeding consisted of me, one of my neighbor's who was interviewed, the man in charge of the orphanage and his son, the judge, and a bunch of lawyers all crowded into a small room with no electricity and a bunch of people standing outside piling on top of each other at the doorway to hear what was going on.  A suit is hot.  It is hotter in Haiti.  It is even hotter in a judge's chambers with no ventilation and a whole bunch of people crowded around thick with anticipation and suspense.

The main accusation being brought against me was that I was trying to destroy the orphanage so that I could start my own with their kids and receive their sponsorship money.  I didn't even get a real chance to respond to this foolishness.  The only thing I was able to say was that I had taught the reporter how he could find out the amount of money the orphanage was making.  It is public information accessible on the internet.  

The of the orphanage eventually got in an argument with his own lawyer which led to his son slinking out of the room.  The judge had a police officer give him a copy of the interview and he listened to it.  After this he made a judgment that he would check out the situation for himself and dismissed everyone.  That is the last I have heard about it.  A couple of the kids have visited a couple of times hungry and looking for food.  I haven't seen any of them at all in over two weeks.  As of this writing I don't know what is happening.

Last year I spent the afternoon with a pastor who counsels people who have been involved in the occult.  He gave me some really good counseling advice and then a piece of personal advice.  He said I needed to make sure and do something normal every now and then.  Have some kind of a normal entertainment outlet so I can get a break because this stuff will bring you down if you don't.  Right now this outlet has been watching old episodes The Greatest American Hero once a week as a family.

The kids got all into the X-men and Avengers last year.  They talked about it constantly.  I told them there was a superhero that was better than all of them.  As I described The Greatest American Hero they all became very interested and we were able to watch the pilot on Youtube  that week.  It was definitely an instant hit.  Our internet has been so bad this past year in our new location that only recently we have been able to resume watching.  One of the kids found a place where they could download the episodes when we were in a place with good internet and then we could watch them later.  The first episode we were able to watch after the court proceeding was entitled “Hit Car”.  How appropriate.  The best part about the show is that it is just a normal guy who makes plenty of mistakes.  His only superpower comes from the suit he was given.  He lost the instruction book and just does the best he can to figure out how to use it.  Definitely easy to relate to.

We have been doing much better with nutrition an even buying food that we like to eat.  It has just taken us a while to figure it all out and roll with it when a store is out of something.  The more frustrating thing comes when they actually have it but won't sell it to you because they haven't put it in the system yet.  I was holding a large container of Parmesan cheese that I had picked up from an entire case sitting on the floor and asked the lady working how much it was.  She said that she couldn't sell it to me because it was “poko” in the system.  This led to a Clint Eastwood style stare-down for about 30 seconds with neither of us budging or showing emotion.  I could hear the theme music from The Good The Bad and The Ugly playing in my head as I stared back.  In the end I said nothing and put the cheese back in the box because I knew I was going to get nowhere.  About 2 weeks later I was actually able to buy it.

 My neighbor Ti Mouche (aka Lucky Machete because he is always carrying a machete) has some friends in the US that have invited him to spend a couple of weeks with them.  He asked if I would go to the Embassy with him and help translate while he presented his paperwork.  After checking out his story I told him that I would help because he actually had everything he needed.  He is also a really hard worker, good farmer, and has a family that he takes care of.  His specific reason for going to the US is to visit places to get more info on farming.

I brought him to Leogonne where he applied for the Visa and set up an appointment with the embassy.  In the middle of the process he realizes that he needs the papers in order to continue – but they are at his house.  I asked him why he didn't bring them.  This initiated another famous 30 second stare-down until I voiced that we needed to go back to his house and get them.  He got the papers that he needed and we went back to Leogonne.  A 30 minute trip one way.  

I dropped him off at the office and said I was going to the bank to get some banking done while he was filling out his paperwork.  As I passed through an intersection I heard a noise and the truck jolted.  I almost didn't notice it, but Luke told me that we got hit in the rear by a motorcycle.  There are no stop signs or anything else to help organize traffic here.  It is just every man for himself.  

I stopped the truck and saw where the motorcycle had hit me near the rear.  Barely noticeable damage.  I was hoping it was the same for the motorcycle and we could call it even.  Of course the motorcycle was nearly totaled.  It was obviously the other guy's fault, but I didn't want to push the issue.  I just wanted to get out of there.  Well that wasn't about to happen.

The motorcycle drive came over and started yelling that I crashed his motorcycle.  I told him that HE crashed MY truck!  Then a crowd gathered around and of course started siding with the motorcycle driver.  I said I didn't want to do anything until we could get the police on the scene.  Out of the large crowd of about 30 people stunningly no one knew the phone number to the police station that was walking distance form the accident.

People kept trying to pull me to the side and tell me all the reasons why we didn't need police involvement and the motorcycle driver just kept demanding money for his motorcycle.  After almost 10 minutes of this I was finally able to convince all within earshot that I was going to the police station with or without the motorcycle driver.  He was welcome to join me and I would even give him a ride there, but I was not about to do anything until the police were involved.  Finally the motorcycle driver just threw up his hands and said, “Just go to your house!  I don't want anything from you.”  He then went back to his motorcycle and started walking it away.  The crowd slowly started to disperse.  I went to the police station, filled out what is known as a declaration, and then got their phone number.

I went back to the office where I had left TiMouche, but he wasn't there.  He got tired of waiting for me and went to the next office with a moto taxi.  As I was pulling away from the curb I heard a grinding sound.  I couldn't imagine what it was because I had checked around thoroughly before pulling out.  I got out of the truck and it turns out I had ran over some dude's bicycle.  Again the 30 second stare-down with some other random guy dancing around in the background yelling “Accident!  Accident!”.  It was a small old dude.  By this time I was worn out and I just asked him how much he wanted for the bike.  He wouldn't say anything.  I offered him 200 Haitian Dollars – about 16 USD with the current exchange rate.  He smiled and happily took the money.

Luke told me on the way out that he had seen the guy place the bike under my tire as I was backing up and I didn't see it because I was looking backward.  It was set for me to run over it as I pulled forward.  Great.  Information I could have used before paying the guy.

Yvenson spent most of the year skipping school, hanging out with a bad crowd, and giving his Aunt and Uncle grief.  I finally confronted him about it and told him that I would not pay for him to go to school again next year.  After a long discussion I told him that I would be willing to meet with him on a regular basis for a while to see if I could help him work through his traumatic past.  He agreed and we set a schedule.  I talked to his Aunt and Uncle and explained everything to them.

On our first meeting I brought Wesley along and planned to just start with the gospel and see if he was receptive.  We waited for 45 minutes and he never showed up.  His uncle said that he knew we were coming and even told his uncle he planned to be there.  Finally I gave up and was ready to write him off and not waste my time with him any more.  As Wesley and I walked down the trail back to the main road I heard someone calling “Pastor! Pastor!”  It was Yvenson.

Wesley let him have it for being so late. We all went back to his house and I shared the gospel with him from scripture.  He was in a good place of brokenness and Wesley prayed with him to receive Christ as his savior.  Wesley and I continue to meet with him for discipleship.

With the fence close to completion I finally found a guy to build a big rolling front gate.  He came over to measure and give me a quote.  The first price that he gave me was so astronomical that I didn't even try to negotiate.  I just shook his hand, thanked him for his time, and loaded up in the truck to take him back to town.  As I was pulling out I heard a grating sound and air escaping.  I got out of the truck and noticed an old bike brake hanging out of my tire with the bolt part plunged deep inside.

I pulled it out and backed up into my yard to fix it.  I instructed the welder to sit at the outdoor table while I fixed my tire.  I put on the spare and pulled out my plug kit.  I was able to plug the hole and refill the air with the bike style pump.  It takes almost 500 pumps to get to full pressure.  I put the plugged tire back in place, the spare back underneath, loaded up the welder guy, and headed back out to town. 

As we were pulling out he stopped me and said that he wanted to work for me and knew the initial price he told me was too high.  We negotiated a more reasonable price and then got back out and wrote up a contract together.  As the day was approaching I stopped by his shop one day to check on progress.  He said that he wasn't going to be able to make the deadline because he needed more money.  I had already paid him ¾ of the price up front and I wasn't about to pay him another dime until he completed it.  I just stated the exact amount that I had already paid him to everyone sitting around and how much I would pay him upon completion.  

He was startled that I just said all those numbers and was obviously not too happy that the people sitting around could hear and started back peddling.  Murmurs from the loiterers started rippling through and finally he just said he would have it completed by the deadline.  I left and didn't say anything else until the day before the deadline.

He sent me a text message that said he was ready to install the gate.  I went by his shop and he said he would bring the gate that afternoon.  I was meeting with another guy in my discipleship group when I got a call from Amy.  He came, but was refusing to do any of the installation other than actual welding.

I came home and we sat down with the contract.  The contract clearly said “tout bagay”- everything.  I told him that I wanted him to deliver the gate, I would pay him what I owed him, and then I would find someone else to do the work.  He didn't like this.  He was afraid his reputation would be ruined if some other welder had to do the welding portion.  This went on for some time and finally I acquiesced.  The deception here is only able to be withstood by the grace of God.  It is so far reaching.  No wonder this place is a mess.

Me, Wesley, and a helper started on all the concrete work required the next morning.  We were able to get a trench dug, and the concrete poured around the rail before evening.  The welder came back the next day and completed the welding portion.  When he was finished he said that he still wanted to do other work for me.  I explained to him that I couldn't trust him.  There was nothing wrong with his actual welding, but I only wanted to work with people that I could trust.  

Baby's dad – Pastor Titus – brought me to talk to another pastor friend of his one day.  It was a great conversation.  They asked me a lot of questions about my intentions for ministry here.  I was actually uplifted and refreshed after talking and praying together with them.  After I was dropping off Pastor Titus back at his house he turned to me and said, “I would like to see you plant a church here in Fauche.”  It was very encouraging and I said that I would consider it.  It is definitely something I had been praying about.  I received a book from the First Baptist Church of Roswell, NM called the Four Fields.  I started digging into it.

It wasn't too long before God continued to solidify this calling to expand discipleship into planting churches.  I got the blessing of our sending church as well as our local church here.  I plan to fully engage in this effort beginning in September.

It is amazing to watch how some prayers get answered.  I had been praying about selling the 3 wheeled motorcycle for some time.  I saw Boss Son Son across from the church one morning and he asked where my motorcycle was.  I told him that I wanted to sell it.  He said he wanted to buy it.  He came by that afternoon, we worked out a deal, and he drove away.  It was actually pretty emotional for me.  It represented the beginning and end of milestone.

It was great to have some American friends come to visit.  They had been at Respire for the week and planned to spend one day with us.  All Louisiana people from our hometown area.  I went to Gressier to pick them up, ordered pizza from the restaurant next door, dropped them off at my house, and then went to Grand Goave to pick up some of the discipleship group to come and hang out together. About 5 minutes after returning from Grand Goave I heard a voice from the yard.  It was Anna.  “Isaac cut his leg really bad!”  I looked up and saw the 12 year old son of one of the visiting couples limping into our house with the largest laceration I have ever seen on his leg.  He had fallen on a rock playing soccer.

People started administering first aid and FanFan called the Mission of Hope clinic to see if they were available.  It turns out they were there.  I gathered everyone around for prayer, and I drove Isaac and his parents to the clinic.  The Haitian doctor that is there now really cares.  He explained that he would need some internal dissolvable stitches, and some external stitches that would need to be removed.  He had the stitches, but no lidocane.  

I told him I would go into town and try to find some.  He told me what I should expect to pay for it.  I found some at a pharmacy and of course they charged me 2 and ½ times what the doctor said because I am a blan.  I got back in under 10 minutes and they were able to start deadening the area.  They did a great job of stitching it up.  

When we arrived back home the pizza was still not ready so we decided to go back to the restaurant and see what was up.  It turns out the cook hadn't shown up yet but was on his way and almost there.  It was about 1:45 pm.  I asked if I should expect to pick up the pizza at 4?  He laughed and assured me it would be ready by 3:30 at the latest.  We finally were able to eat a little after 5.  We put in the order at 10:30 am.  A group member and I were sharing a birthday celebration together.  He was turning 24 and I was turning 42.

We went to Port-au-Prince the next day and were able to see another good friend of ours that was bringing us a sewing machine for Pastor Titus.  She was heading to a mission in Gonaives, but would give us the sewing machine in the airport parking lot.  We used this opportunity to shop for supplies and pick up our mail from MFI before seeing her.  We brought our neighbor Galy with us.  It was his first time ever to Port-au-Prince.  Truly a priceless experience.

On our way out of the grocery store about to head to the airport I heard a loud noise coming from the truck and saw steam going everywhere.  I turned off the truck and opened the hood to make sure nothing was on fire.  I stooped down and started praying.  It was a pretty helpless feeling.  It turned out to be a blown AC hose.  I was so thankful.  We could drive like that – just really hot.  It was great to see our friend at the airport.  I was able to talk to the mission director of the mission she was going to be working with a long time before she arrived.  We actually met at the grocery store before the airport.  He asked if we needed help when he saw our blown hose situation.

We both came to Haiti about the same time to work as directors of orphanages.  We each lasted six months at our orphanages before we knew we had to get out of the Haiti orphan care business.  We are both still here following the call of God on our lives to Haiti.  I will be interested to see what may develop in our relationship in the future.

In Christ,
Laramie

2 Corinthians 11:26  26 I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. 

True rest seems evasive.  In BUD/s I learned to rest, eat, and relax even while running.  You just have to slow down a little bit, but you always must keep moving.  Paul's life was like this.  Jesus explained that his followers would live like this.  Learning to balance the need to keep moving and still be able to find rest in this midst of it is difficult, but it is possible.  Maybe one day I'll figure it out.

We had been stuck in the house for weeks during the first part of January.  I maintained my schedule of preaching and discipleship meetings, but with great difficulty.  Every day I would have to consult with several people to see what was going on.  The scheduled elections were not happening like they were supposed to and people were mad.  It is really difficult to tell who the good guys are.  Mostly it just seems like lots of men are sitting around waiting for an excuse to tear stuff up and it only takes a spark to get the fire going.

For those few weeks gunshots became a part of everyday life.  Several times groups blocked the street close to our house and had shootouts with the police.  The town of Grand Goave became a war zone and daily life became extremely difficult.  One long term missionary in the area said that this was the worst he had seen it in seven years and was the closest thing to a revolution he had seen in his time here.

Things were calm enough one day to go out to the town of Leogonne to buy some supplies.  The 30 minute drive seemed pretty calm, but once we got into the town we noticed a large group of people gathered around the smoldering remains of a National School.  The school was one of the polling centers and the party that was opposed to holding elections just figured they would go ahead and burn it down so elections would not be able to be held there.

Going to Port-au-Prince became next to impossible for a while.  Every time we would plan to go it seemed a riot would spring up.  Other ex-pats would post gruesome pictures on Facebook from their local areas and say, “Don't come here today. This is what's going on.”  All of us have differing areas of mission focus, differing levels of acceptable risk, differing interpretations of the same facts, and differing action plans associated with those interpretations.  The one thing that seems to be the common binding trait transcending all these differences however, is that we all seem to be just a little bit on the crazy side to be living here.

Right in the middle of all this mess the guy that we are renting the house from showed up one day and said his mom had died and they were going to bury her in the tomb in the yard.  Until this event I was told that it was empty.  He even told us that he would remove it if we wanted.  I told him that would be great, but he never did it and now he was even going to bring someone to occupy it.

I had just started building a barb wire fence around the property to alleviate some of the daily harassment and he wanted to remove a large section of it so they could bring the casket through to the tomb.  This was pretty demoralizing.  Not only was he not willing to help with upkeep or repairs, but now he wanted to undo what I had just done and host a large funeral in the yard.  I was not happy about this new development but reluctantly acquiesced.  

We were invited to be a part of the funeral, but I politely declined and said we would be more than happy to vacate the premises during the services.  The problem with vacating was that we had to find somewhere to go in the midst of recent anarchy and riots.  Our options were pretty limited so we chose to go to the restaurant that was near our house to hang out during the funeral.  This is actually a pretty decent place, but the prices are kind of high so we rarely eat there.  The people are pretty friendly and had no problem with us ordering a meal and hanging out for about 4 hours while the funeral was going on.  Thank God for His little safe havens in the midst of craziness.

When we returned home our 12 year old neighbor, Junior came to give us the whole scoop on the service.  He told us that he didn't want to go and cried a bunch hoping his mom wouldn't make him.  She was unmoved by his crocodile tears and forced him to go anyway.  As he sat through the proceedings in misery he had one slight bit of entertaining relief that he was able to pass on to us.

It turns out that the local cross-dresser showed up.  He wasn't related or even friends with the deceased but just wanted to seize the opportunity to wear his best hat and dress.  As he joined in with the rest of those gathered drinking deep from the moonshine jug he joined in with the rest of the ladies as they wailed and flopped around on the ground like fish out of water.  Needless to say I breathed a sigh of relief that God had given me the insight to get out of there and not have my family traumatized any more than they had been already.  At least they put back the section of the fence albeit halfheartedly and substandard.  

It is impossible to disciple someone who is not interested in being discipled.  This is not always clear from the outset because plenty of people will tell you what you want to hear hoping you will give them what they want.  It usually doesn't take too long to see if someone is truly interested in pursuing Christ or if they are interested in something else they hope to get from you through manipulation.  I have to keep 2 Timothy 2:2 in mind as I prayerfully consider to invest time in.  2 Timothy 2:2 And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable men who will also be qualified to teach others. 

There is one man who is actually a student at a seminary in Port-au-Prince that came highly recommended that I get involved with helping.  The first few times I met with him seemed to be very genuine.  As I prayed however God revealed to me some different motives.  We were planning to put a seminar together deep in the mountains where he is from for church leadership.  I put together an outline and objectives with a tentative schedule.  He glanced at it, said it looked great, and then started talking about how he would invite lots of people and he expected me to feed them all for the duration of the conference.  I had to put a halt to the conversation and told him that I was not going to do this. 

We just couldn't seem to recover from this or get back on track.  After more weeks of negotiations we decided that this would be strictly for a few church leaders and we wouldn't have to worry about logistical issues.  After more planning we finally set a date.  When he arrived again to talk through the details he informed me that he wanted me to haul a truckload of concrete blocks every day of the conference.  I told him that I didn't want to do this because the route was very treacherous and I didn't want to damage my truck by hauling extra weight. He then had some great advice that I should get a new truck so I could do this for them.

I just sat silent for a long time in unbelief at the arrogance of this statement not really knowing what to say.  I finally just said that I had no desire to work together anymore.  I felt like I was wasting my time with him and I had to spend my time with those that were truly interested in the Word of God.  It was a very difficult decision and I felt bad about the whole situation.

As if in response to this our discipleship group began to be strengthened and become more like a family.  It was like God was telling me that I needed to spend more time with them and less time with those I was unsure about their motives.  These decisions are hard fought for and there is always a looming wondering if I made the right decision even after confirmation.  It just causes me to lean on God more and go to Him more often.

All of our food has bugs in it.  It is just a way of life.  Amy has tried washing, sifting, picking them out individually and they are always there.  Then one day Wesley explained the trick.  Spread it out as a thin layer on something metal, put it out in the sun, and the bugs will go away on their own.  Shut up!  Really?  Yep, it works.  It actually only takes about 30 minutes and they are all gone.  The only problem is that the rice tastes funny after it has been gnawed away by the bugs. I'm also pretty positive that as they eat the waste products don't just magically disappear.  Such is life in Haiti.

Not so many tarantella's come in the house anymore, but every now and then one will sneak in.  You have to go at them at full force with something big and then they explode gray goop everywhere.  There also seems to be a forgotten leg left behind that we find later.  Kind of gross.  We now have a better way.  We found out that a local bug spray is explosively flammable when you shoot a stream at a lighter.  We also live in a concrete house.  This has now become Lance's favorite pastime.  Whenever we see a spider now we just yell for Lance to come “nuke” it.      

As we were getting ready for church service the last Sunday morning before heading back to the US for a bit, we heard lots of gunshots coming from the town of Grand Goave followed shortly by a call from Wesley telling us not to leave our house.  The local opposition had blocked the streets with caskets, people were shooting, and traffic was stopped.  The morning service went on as usual in the midst of this, but we couldn't get there from our house.

Because I was leading the evening service, I thought it would be a good idea if I figured out how to get there.  Amy suggested that I hire a motorcycle taxi so that I wouldn't get trapped behind barricades with our truck.  I called Wesley and asked him for his brother's number because his brother was a motorcycle taxi driver.  I was able to get in touch with him and we worked out a plan.

He picked me up at my house and we made our way through the remnants of barricades all the way to church.  When he dropped me off I tried to pay him, but he said I could just pay him everything when we got back to my house after service.  I tried to get him to take the money but he refused.  I knew this was going to be a bad plan.  

As I was waiting outside the building for the service to start I took some time to talk to people.  I was standing there with my tablet in my hand when a little boy came up to me and pointed to the tablet that I was holding and said, “You are sinning because you are trying to bring that into church.”  Welcome to the next generation of legalists.  At least it afforded me the opportunity to explain that my tablet was a tool that I used to study and teach the Word of God.

The service actually went very well and I had lots of good feedback.  I had two church members with motorcycles offer to bring me home, but I declined because I was already semi obligated to Wesley's brother.  Even though I knew this was all going to turn out badly I had to give him the benefit of the doubt and follow this thing out.

I called him to come get me and the first drops of rain began to fall as I climbed aboard his motorcycle.  He went to the edge of town where the gas station was and pulled in.  There were already lots of people waiting at the pump and lots of other people just milling around.  I asked him what he was doing and he said he was out of gas.  I told him that I did not want to wait at the gas station with all the problems going on and the reason I was hiring him was to get me home without stopping.  He told me he couldn't go anywhere without gas.  I paid him what I owed him and told him that I was walking home.  

I began the trek to my house in the rain and the dark with a good steady run praying all the way.  I called Amy before I started to let her know what was going on.  It took me about thirty minutes to get home.  Good thing I try to stay in shape here.  Luke has said many times that it is dangerous to be fat and out of shape in Haiti.  At least it was dark and I didn't draw too much attention to myself.  I was very thankful to be back home again. 

I woke up the next morning to more gunshots and lots more chaos.  The opposition had stopped a semi near our house, pulled it across the road sideways, and shot out all the tires.  They had also overturned a bus closer to town.  Having no heavy equipment to remove these things, and this being the only road on this side of the island, this event posed a major hindrance to all traffic flow.

The remnants of this were still in place – although passable – Thursday morning when I went to talk to Pastor Lex.  We had a general meeting about some things in the church, but the focus became the need to get my family out of the country for a while until things cooled down.  By this time I didn't need too much convincing, and we immediately scheduled a flight out the next day.  God is good.  We even got a really good price.

I got the discipleship group together and explained the situation.  We split up our perishable food with them, gave them some money, and prayed together.  Then we prepped to leave early the next morning.

I hired the same guy that helped us find our truck to drive us to the airport.  He came at 4 am and drove at light speed to get us to the airport around 5:30.  There was only one remnant of a barricade in between our town and Leogonne.  Our flight was delayed for close to 4 hours and we sat on the plane all that time waiting for them to work through the issues.  Nothing is easy in Haiti.  Not even flying out on a commercial American airplane.

We finally ended up in the US and were met by our church family.  I can't tell you how good of a feeling it was to hit the  be surrounded by the body of Christ upon hitting the ground.  The day before we made the decision to leave Haiti we had just planned a trip to America including scheduled speaking engagements down to the day.  Now we had no plan.

God arranged so many divine appointments while we were at home and there was no doubt that he called us there for that specific time.  We were able to keep touch with the discipleship group because FanFan has a Facebook account.  He kept them together and kept having bible studies with them while I was gone.  During the trip we covered over 10,000 miles and were able to visit and pray with so many brothers and sisters in Christ.  We flew out of Augusta recharged and ready to get back to work.  

In the Atlanta airport we received Facebook messages from our friends here in Haiti that our way home was currently blocked by rioting.  A gasoline truck had crashed into some houses the day before and exploded killing some people.  The town was in an uproar because the police had failed to take any action so they blocked the street, burned tires, and refused to let anyone pass.

I don't know why God blesses us.  I certainly don't do anything to deserve it.  However, I am thankful to be His child and graciously accept the grace that He gives me.  The Delta attendant on the plane took special interest in my family and gave us 3 big bottles of water and some cool Delta food that I had never seen before to bring to our house.  Just a little gesture of God saying,”I've got this – go do the work I've called you to.”

I was initially concerned because the only flight Delta offers now is coming in after dark.  This turned out to be a good thing because our whole drive home was completely clear.  Had we been coming through earlier it would have been blocked by protesters.  The only thing that was left were the remains of barricades and rings in the street where tires had been burned.  God is so good.

We found the house as we left it – only dirtier on the inside and full of tall weeds on the outside.  I connected our battery bank so we could have light, connected the fridge to the propane tank and fired it up, and the boys began bucketing and filtering water.  We were thankful to have the food and water from the Delta guy to get us through this transition.  Even the generator fired back up with no issue.

We woke up the next morning to gunshots.  I connected the battery on the truck and it cranked on the first try.  I drove with Luke to Leogonne to restock our food, gas, and propane supply.  About 5 minutes into the drive I saw a large crowd gathered on the side of the road with a policeman taking a report.  On the other side of the road was a dead body with the head covered.  Later I found that 4 armed gang members had tried to rob a truck.  When the locals saw what was happening they banded together and killed all four of the gang members.  Haitian justice.

The next day we got the discipleship group together again.  It was good to see everyone and get going again.  It was good to pick up preaching the evening service at Mission of Hope that first Sunday night.

We had packages waiting for us in Port-au-Prince.  Some that we were not able to get before we left because of blocked roads, as well as some new ones.  A bridge had been blocked about 30 minutes north of Port-au-Prince the day before, but the word was that everything was clear the day we went.  After picking up our packages we headed to the grocery store to get some meat and other items that are difficult to find in our local area.

We went in to the restaurant next door and ordered some pizza.  They told us that they were out of propane and couldn't cook right then, but within an hour and a half our pizza would be ready.  I paid for the pizza, got a receipt, and we went upstairs to get some work done in a place where we had access to good internet.  After an hour and a half there was still no sign of the propane supplier so we got our money back and went next door to shop buying a few extra items to eat on the way home.

I had been eyeing a weed-eater for months at a construction store in Port-au-Prince, but would not buy it until they had string on hand.  I have learned that you don't buy something here until you know you can also buy the consumable pieces that go with it.  The good news was that they sold string.  The bad news was that they didn't sell two cycle oil and I have never seen it anywhere in Haiti.  I talked to one of the store workers about this and he assured me that I could use any oil.  

I have a strong distrust of Haitian advice when it comes to these matters because I have seen them abuse and tear up too many things in the time I have been here.  I did a little internet research and it turned out he was right.  Who knew?  What I found is that any 30 weight oil can be used.  I bought the weed-eater, string, and oil and headed home.

It turns out the oil burned with no problem and the weed-eater worked great.  Some Chinese brand that I have never seen anywhere other than Haiti.  It was awesome to actually have a semblance of a real lawn.  The previous owner just had dirt and rocks because the Haitian way is to uproot everything so that you always have mud when it rains and dust when it doesn't.  I started cutting the place with a machete, and then a pair of hedge trimmers that I found in Port-au-Prince.  I almost felt like an American homeowner when I was finished weed-eating the place.  Reality hit home when I went to wash my grass stained clothes by hand and found that hand washing clothes after weed-eating is not as effective as machine washing them.

Of course all the kids from the orphanage next door showed up the first day we were back.  The day we left Albertson buried his head in our sides and cried uncontrollably.  It was a difficult departure.  Most everything was still the same there with the exception of one small victory.  

Madoshe had gone back to live with his parents.  His parents were finally convinced by all of his phone calls to them and came to bring him home.  Albertson assured me that he was quite happy to go back home.  I have learned to rejoice in the small victories and focus on one life at a time.  May God get all the glory.

In Christ,
Laramie

Matthew 18:5-6  5 "And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me.  6 But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.”

I see hints of a mail system here sometimes, but not one that is actually functioning.  We rely on a missionary flight service to receive our mail.  This works out pretty well.  The flight service is a solid ministry, they check you out thoroughly before you can be a member, and desire to serve those that are focused on furthering the gospel message of Jesus Christ.  The only problem is that their only office is a 3 hour drive average.  That is one direction.

Lance's birthday came and some awesome friends and supporters had sent him some gifts.  We tried unsuccessfully to get to Port-au-Prince to pick them up.  We sat in stand still traffic all morning and decided to turn around and go home after receiving reports of riots in several locations.  An entire day spent doing nothing but sitting in traffic only to get up the next morning and try again.  At least we were safe.  The next day turned out to be a success.  

We still have kids from the bad orphanage next door visit us every day.  I have learned more about the organization now through the help of another international ministry.  Most of the kids have parents who pay for their on site schooling as well as any medical needs.  The few children who are truly orphaned rely on people from the church that is on site to sponsor them.  All of this money and the kids still show up at my house every day showing visible signs of malnutrition, neglect, and abuse.  So this gives a glimpse at the complexities of the problems faced in this nation specifically, and in material poverty as a whole.   Lack of money is not the problem and neither is a lack of food. 

This becomes evident every time I have to purchase things locally or stand in line at the bank.  Every penny I spend is accounted for and reported.  As I go through this detailed process I am very aware of exactly how much I spend and where I spend it.  As I am spending money in these local businesses I watch while locals come in and spend money the entire time I am there.  Some of these places are large warehouses stacked to the ceiling with food.  There is always a steady stream of local purchasers and a lot of cash changing hands.

The bank is always an unpleasant experience, although one of the most organized and professional entities that can be found here.  It is never a quick trip and reminds me of what banking must have been like in America prior to modern information systems infrastructure becoming the norm.  I regularly stand in line for an hour, sometimes two or more.  While I am there I am able to take stock of the tens sometimes hundreds of thousands of dollars exchanged. Money coming in – money going out. This is easy to see visibly because we are part of an all cash system.  

Anyone who has tried to provide material help to a drug addict in the midst of their addiction has felt the frustration and pain as you watch how more of the help you give, there seems to be only more of a problem.  An endless consumption that eats up material and monetary provision like a fire eats gasoline.  In the famous words of Dave Ramsey, “More money is never the answer to money problems.”  Think of all the stories of people who win the lottery only to end up in a worse state than they were in before a relatively short time after they collect.

Simply giving money or material provision to someone who is proven to be continuously reckless with what they have already is damaging both to the giver and the receiver.  God is not indiscriminate in his appointment of stewards, tests stewards with responsibility, and then rewards those most responsible with the most responsibility.  Inversely he takes from the irresponsible and gives to the most responsible.  In the parable of the talents in Matthew 25:15 – 30 we see an example of this. 

I am often criticized for the type of help that I am willing to give.  Rarely is someone seeking Biblical guidance or advice.  Sometimes people want food.  Mostly people are only interested in money.  Along with the criticism comes all manner of advice that I don't know what I'm doing or don't understand the culture.  What I do understand is scripture, sin, redemption, the eternal state, and a handful of years of practical experience applying these.  The fact that the very same people that are approaching me for help are seeking for me to follow their advice is lost on them.  The logic that if I follow your advice I'm probably going to end up in your situation is a hopeless argument.  I can only pray for the power of Christ to overcome.  

So with the complexities of self serving systems comes ministering to individual people that are truly in need.  The soul always must be the chief concern with the saving grace of the cross of Christ as the only remedy.  However, as we share this truth we minister both to body and soul.  Ministering to individuals in a system designed to keep people in bondage to physical and spiritual poverty becomes most evident in the victims of the orphan business.  From those that are now grown and continue to wear the shackles and bear the scars to those who are continuing to live the daily hell imposed upon them by the very people that are claiming to the outside world all the supposed good they are doing, we see a spiritual darkness that borders on hopelessness.  Certain hopelessness apart from a divine act of justice and grace. I have been privileged to see both in short glimpses.  I pray for complete acts of both of these daily.  

So it is in this context that we feed a few young boys every day at our home.  We know that the orphanage they live in makes a ton of money.  We know that some have parents who actually still give at least some money to their “caregivers”.  While these things are true – AND while we seek for justice in these areas – we minister to the lost, and sometimes we just go off on people.  God help us.

Albertson is a true orphan if his and others accounts about him are factual.  He was born in Citi Soleiel and has resided in the local orphanage for as long as he can remember.  His is 13 years old and has the stern look of a hardened older man.  His is short – probably too short from years of malnutrition – and always dirty.  Splotchy hair, yellow eyes, lots of scars, and almost always barefoot.  

I shared the gospel with him and Iderson (the kid that threw gas on the fire with Lance standing near) one day when I felt God leading.  Iderson went away and never came back.  Albertson still comes every day but leaves as fast as he can once he is finished eating.

One day he showed up and Amy didn't have any food ready yet.  I so didn't feel like trying to talk to him, but reluctantly went outside and sat with him while Amy was preparing some food.  There seems to be such an insurmountable wall between us that I just sit there for a long time praying silently for God to do something.  I halfheartedly throw out a communication opener not really expecting any response.  “When you grow up and leave the orphanage, what do you want to do?”  A long pause.

“When I grow up and leave the orphanage, I want to accept Jesus.”  Completely not expecting this response I almost fell over.  I searched his face for signs that he was trying to get something from me or just joking around.  His eyes were as dead serious as always.  “Do you think you can't accept him now?” I asked.  He just shook his head no in response.

I told him I would be right back, that I was going into the house to get my bible.  I got my tablet so I could have access to all my bible tools as well.  I read Matthew 19:13-14 to him.  

Matthew 19:13-14  13 Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them.  14 Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." 

I explained to him that Christ loves children.  That he can confess his sins and receive the salvation of Christ now.  As I was explaining to him how this works he just bowed his head and started repeating what I was telling him.  I was really pretty stunned.  This was all so unwarranted.  I just decided to go with it.  It had to be the Holy Spirit leading.  I just kept praying out loud and he just kept repeating what I said.  Almost immediately upon completion of the prayer Amy showed up with a bowl of food.  He was happy to receive it and life just kind of moved on.  I have followed up with him since and I see evidence of a real change in him.

Two of the other boys that are recent additions to the orphanage were in pretty good shape on arrival – Madorche and Jameson.  It only took about a month for them to develop the signs of malnutrition and abuse.  Ragged clothes, splotchy hair, filthy bodies, and distant stares.  We finally decided it was time to reach out for some help.

The good news is this place has a website full of fraudulent information about the services they are providing.  They are based in the US and officially a non profit organization so they have to report their funding information.  On their website they had mentioned that their efforts were praised by another well known international ministry.  We just happened to have a contact there so we reached out to them.  This began the process.

The days here are always full of emotion and I am only now beginning to develop the spiritual fruit and discipline of self control when dealing with all of the feelings that well up and inevitably overflow.  Anger, frustration, and rage are common reactions that I pray for grace to channel appropriate reactions that will honor my Savior.  I frequently get it wrong, but God gives more grace as He patiently teaches me His way.

The political situation here remains volatile, but is apparently better than it is has been in the past.  We have heard more gunshots than we have since we moved here.  One night some guys blocked the road out on the street closest to our house with a lottery booth.  When the police arrived they had a shootout.  We were awaken around 4 am with the gunshots.  Many nights we hear the gunshots close by, turn out all our lights, hunker down, and then wait until the action passes before we resume normal life.  Anna said to me one day, “Daddy, I am getting tired of living in a place where we hear gunshots all the time.”

We have some good friends here.  It really helps on the hardest days.  Sometimes God just puts someone on your heart and you start praying, reach out, and find out something is going on in their life.  Amy texted a young lady friend of hers, Enit one day.  Enit responded to the text and explained that she was really suffering and was very sick.  After some investigation we offered to take her to the Mission of Hope Clinic.  It was really good timing because there was a great team of American doctors that was visiting for the week.

While I was waiting for her (the wait turned out to be about 3 hours) I decided to download some apps for my tablet to help me learn biblical Greek.  I was sitting in the waiting area inside the church building playing one of the Greek alphabet games when I started to be surrounded by kids who had just finished school for the day.  I could see real quick that I wasn't going to be allowed to have peace as long as I was holding a tablet in my hand.  They were all begging to see a video and growing in numbers.  Being outnumbered and wanting to avoid a riot I acquiesced. 

I first showed them a short cartoon Lance had made using a parable from the bible in the creole language.  They loved it and wanted to watch it over again.  They begged for more and I decided to show them a video of some baptisms from last year.  This was awesome.  It opened to the door for the gospel message and all kinds of questions regarding baptism.  Hopefully they understood my bad creole and some seeds were planted.

Finally I realized that Enit wasn't going to be seen any time soon so I made sure she had another ride home and left.  Later we found out that she was anemic, under weight, and had typhoid.  She had prescriptions for medicine but couldn't afford to buy it.  I told her that I would help her out the next morning.  The political situation was getting tense and I didn't want to go back into town that day.
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The next day I had to go to the bank in Petit Goave and I knew there was a good pharmacy near the bank that would have all the medicine she needed.  It is interesting to see the contrast inside the bank from what your mind tells you when you drive around and take in the sights of abject poverty.  I try to go to the bank as little as possible because it is never a pleasant experience, although it is one of the more professional organizations in Haiti.  I average 2 hours in line every time I go.

It is amazing to see the amounts of cash that are transferred.  It lets you get a glimpse that the country as a whole is not suffering from a lack of money.  This is just one bank in an outlying obscure location and every time I go there I witness tens of thousands of US dollars being exchanged.  Luke and I estimated one of the deposits alone that we witnessed had over 10,000 USD.  There was a large pyramid of stacks of 20s.  Seeing all of this cash deposited in front of our eyes helps bring into perspective that just a lack of money is not the root cause of material poverty.

We came out of the bank and headed to the truck.  We were driving and were going to attempt to turn around and head to the pharmacy when I heard a gunshot.  I then saw people running and noticed that police had blocked the street in the direction of the pharmacy.  I decided to just get out of the area as fast as possible.  Everyone was on high alert due to political unrest in addition to the fact that people are routinely targeted and killed at banks by thieves.

Not wanting to completely fail at getting Enit the medicine she needed we stopped by a pharmacy on the edge of town outside the action zone.  We were able to get about half of the medicines on the list.  We then headed back to Grand Goave and were able to get some of the others at a pharmacy there.  We still couldn't get all of them, but at least the most important ones seemed to be covered.  On our way back home we dropped them off with Enit and she seemed grateful.

The evening runs with Luke in the mountains are so helpful in so many ways.  They provide me with a healthy body to continue the work, free my mind of the frustrations (expect when we are harassed along the way), and also provide exploration to find new areas for ministry.  All of this was true until I had to take a 2 month break from them.  On our way down the mountain we were crossing a dry stream bed with some rocks.  I stepped wrong, my ankle twisted, I heard a loud audible crack, and felt an excruciating pain that brought moans from my mouth and tears to my eyes.  I thought for a moment that it might be broken.

Luke stopped with mouth gaped open in unbelief that his dad would be crying tears of pain.  I didn't care.  I was in no position to put forth pretense.  I just started praying and then hobbled forward after the incapacitating part of the pain subsided.  I was still about a mile from home at this point and was able to hobble, walk, and then jog the rest of the way back.

When I got home the ankle was already starting to seriously swell and turn colors.  I elevated it, iced it(thank God for a propane fridge), and took some Motrin.  I should have wrapped it but I was stubborn and didn't.  I actually did yard work for the next two days while laying low during political chaos.  This only made it worse.  Finally my concerned wife pleaded with me to wrap it.  This helped some but it remained unchanged for weeks.  Finally on the third week I went to the hospital in Port-au-Prince for an X ray.  

Thank God for Christian doctor friends in the US that checked out the X rays, verified that it wasn't broken, and told me to stay off it.  It finally started to get a little better around week 4 but still hurts and is a little swollen.  I finally went on a run last week.  It wasn't too bad.

I was invited to preach at a church in the third section of Grand Goave by a young pastor in a seminary in Port-au-Prince that has family there.  Thank God for the truck he provided.  There were two sections that I was sure we would fall off the mountain while driving.  It really seemed impossible, but Enoch assured me it was not big deal.  Luke, Lance, FanFan, and Wesley were sitting in the back of the truck.  They said they were just holding on for dear life and praying.

It was a good morning at the church, they fed us a wonderful mountain meal when we finished and we made some good connections.  The drive down was a little better because we were more prepared and knew what to expect.  After arriving in the town of Grand Goave we dropped off Wesley and FanFan and then headed to our house.  We were stopped almost immediately with a road block.  We didn't even stick around long enough to find out all the details, but just gave Pastor Lex a call and headed to his house until it was time for evening service.  We navigated through the demonstrations and made it to church late, then left early and finally made it home.

The process of making charcoal is from the devil.  This is realized when it is your aging widowed neighbor's sole source of income and she makes it in big smoldering piles next to the fence separating the yards.  The large billowing clouds of thick black smoke fill the air and linger.  Then they cross the fence, enter our house, consume our hand-washed clothes hanging on the roof to dry, and make sleeping seem more like dying and going to hell.  When explaining my frustration to a neighbor who is not as affected as I am by this process I am told just to have sympathy because she is a widow and it is her only source of income.

The longer I am here the more I am learning where I can buy some of the daily items that we take for granted in America – like mouth wash.  You can't predict exactly when it will be available, which brand, or at what price you will find it.  When you do it is a precious commodity and you are thankful to have it.  That is why I continued to use it even when I got home and realized that the seal was missing and it had been previously opened.  Thank you Lord for this mouthwash.  Please protect me from any ill effects.  In Jesus name.  Amen.

So the best thing to do while surrounded by others worshiping the devil during voodoo ceremonies is take your family to the roof and sing praise and worship music.  We don't do it every time, but it is nice to invite the one true God to come so that we can worship Him asking for His presence to force out the darkness.  Of course there is always the response of just praying a whole bunch, too.

You just never know what is going to happen here.  After church service one Sunday night I was approached by a different local pastor frantically asking for a ride.  We were already packed with people and I was trying to get to the bottom of what he was asking.  I THOUGHT he said that there was a lady at his house with a broken leg and he needed to get her to the hospital.  It turned out to be something different.

We told the crowd of people packed into the back of the truck that we had an emergency come up and would not be able to give them a ride to their house.  They got out and then we went up the mountain to the pastor's house.  We got the lady in need into the back of the truck and made it to the hospital just in time to find out that it was not her leg that was broken – it was her water.  She almost had the baby at the front gate of the hospital, but they got her inside just in time.

After many trips to Port-au-Prince in the heat, dust, and through gauntlets of panhandlers we decided to try fixing the AC in the truck.  I have one mechanic that I trust and he recommended an AC guy.  The guy showed up dressed in nice clothes with an assistant.  I call it the McGyver work mentality.  Don't bring anything with you and find what you need when you get there.  He actually did a good job in the end, but I ended up providing every tool that he needed including feeding lunch to his assistant while he went to Port-au-Prince for 3 hours to get a part repaired.  He only did the compressor and hose part.  I had to go through two more different guys before the electric problems were fixed.  Same scenario each time.  

While sleeping one night during a steady rain, I was awaken around 10 pm to the distinct sound of Band Sanprel.  I still don't understand exactly what they are other than it is a type of voodoo worship where a group travels around with strange instruments and chanting hoping to call up evil spirits.  It is difficult to describe the music.  It reminds me of something out of Dr. Seuss.  

Hearing the music gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach and a weight of oppression fell over the whole house.  I got up and sat beneath the window praying while listening for about 3 hours.  Sometimes they would get real close, and sometimes they would be almost inaudible.  Around 2 I finally decided to try sleeping because they sounded pretty far away.  I stayed in a steady state of prayer  until the sun came up.  I would doze every now and then briefly only to be awaken later to the sounds of chanting and strange music.  It finally ceased shortly after sunrise.

One of my neighbors came by explaining that he needed money for school.  He offered to sell me some eggs because his grandmother had laying hens.  I thought this could be a good thing.  I told him I already knew the standard price for eggs in the market in Grand Goave – about $1.50 USD per dozen.  He said that he would charge me a really good price because he was my neighbor.  I guess he and I have a different idea of what a good price is.  He showed up the next day with his best price of $7.50 USD a dozen.  He tried to explain to me that they were special eggs because the chickens eat mangoes.

After a few minutes of calm negotiations I finally lost my temper with him because he was deliberately trying to rip me off.  I told him that this is why Haiti continues to be poor and why he can't pay for school.  God will not bless this kind of behavior.  I read to him scripture and discussed differing weights and measures.  He took it in and got sad, but refused to budge on the price.  We finally sat on the tailgate of my truck and talked for a while.  Somehow the subject moved to the kids at the orphanage.

​He told me that every now and then some Americans will come to visit.  When this happens the orphanage will gather up all the kids in the neighborhood and agree to feed them for the day.  This makes it seem like the orphanage is full of kids.  Once the Americans leave all the kids go back home.

I finally had enough after Jameson showed up at my door one morning barely able to move.  He had been beaten across the back with a type of short leather whip for eating the dog's food.  A neighbor next to the orphanage had thrown out some food and gave it to the dog in the orphanage.  Jameson was so hungry that he went to eat the dog's food.  The person in charge told him that it was a disgrace to do this and beat him for it.  We took care of his wounds, fed him, and let him sleep on our floor until he was able to go home.  That night I sought some help from the local authorities.

The wheels of justice move so slowly sometimes, but it is God's justice and He will eventually have it.  While waiting and praying we continue to feed and care for the ones that come.  One of them is Iderson.  He is the same boy that threw gas on the fire the first week we are here.  He is indifferent uses foul language when he talks.  He rarely shows up because he knows that I won't allow it.

One Friday after the discipleship group I went on a walk with FanFan and Wesley to check on a possible job lead for Wesley.  When we returned Iderson was sitting on our porch and Amy and Enit were caring for him.  He was way out of it, filthy, signs of serious malnutrition, with seriously infected sores covering his legs.  I decided to visit the orphanage.

Wesley and FanFan went with me but Iderson wouldn't follow.  He was extremely obstinate and went the other way.  Upon arrival I explained the situation to the man in charge.  He greeted us at the gate with his leather whip.  It looks just like a cat of nine tails but only with 2 strips of leather.  I offered to take Iderson to the hospital and he agreed.  We sat and waited for 2 hours for Iderson to show up, but he never did.  Luke and Amy ended up leading the Friday night bible study without us.  I was prepared to wait all night, but we were asked to leave and come back the next morning.

The next morning there were riots in Grand Goave so I asked FanFan to meet me at my house and we would take Iderson to Leogonne together.  I went to pick up Iderson and the man in charge tried to give me a sob story about how they were in this condition due to a lack of funding.  I calmly took out my pocket knife and wrote the exact figure that the US office pulled in last year in the dirt.  I explained what the number meant and said you need to ask your US people for the money.  He understood but said they don't give them any.  I told him that I knew most of the kids had parents and that they got money from them and also from the church that was in there.  In the end he didn't say anything else and just thanked me for taking care of Iderson.

The hospital took all kind of tests and told us to come back on Monday.  I spent a lot of time in prayer on Sunday night.  I was so mad.  It was all so senseless.  The neglect and abuse didn't have to be that way.  I still didn't understand the full extent.  What level of voodoo rituals were they exposed to?  I just cried out to God and walked around the roof praying.  Monday morning I picked up FanFan and we arrived at the orphanage to a scene of chaos.  The director's house was mostly burned and billowing black smoke.  

What a metaphor as I took Iderson's hand and led him out of the gate with that backdrop.  Apparently the fire was a mystery.  No one was in the house when it started and there was no electricity or any other ignition source or flammable material inside.  A week later the church caught on fire.

We got Iderson's test results back and the medicine he needed.  He reluctantly showed up at our house every day, took a bath outside with bleached well water, used his medicated soap and shampoo, took his medicine, and ate well.  He continued this for about two weeks.  We could tell he was getting better because he was more obstinate than ever with his renewed energy, but there was a hint of appreciation when we gave him his daily hug.  

It really made an impression with the other kids too.  Albertson asked to try the medicine.  We told him that he had to be sick. He started inventing illnesses.  Iderson got up the strength to start asking for presents.  Amy told him that the medicine and doctor's visit was his present.  He wasn't impressed.  Amy asked what present they would give her.  Albertson was hiding underneath our outdoor table and said shyly that he would give her a little mango.  Not even a big one.

Wesley called and wanted me to talk to his friend the Houngan again. I found out that his name is Roger (pronounced Wojay in Creole).  He explained that a big voodoo ceremony with a big sacrifice was planned for mid January.  We made a plan and went there.  At the top of the road where we parked the truck the mountain butchers had just slaughtered a couple of cows.  There was meat and blood everywhere.  

There was a group of men hanging out in a little hut nearby.  They immediately started asking me for money and saying they here hungry.  I looked behind me at all the meat and thought about the irony.  I just told them that I was not like other white people.  I was not here to give handouts, but to share the gospel.  One old man sitting in front of me asked me if I was a Christian.  I told him that I was a pastor.  He extended his hand and said, “Welcome, Brother”.  Wesley explained to me that he was a recent convert and was truly trying to follow Christ.

The entire way we were asked for all manner of things.  One guy forcefully asked for money brandishing a sickle.  I just looked him in the eyes then just walked passed him and on up the trail.  It turns out that Roger was very busy with lots of customers.  Apparently voodoo priesthood is a lucrative business.  We made an appointment to come back a different day.

On our way out I stopped by the demon possessed tree and prayed.  The same one that I have prayed over before.  I don't put hope in Holy Water but  felt led to take out my water bottle and ask God to bless the water.  I asked him to make it a symbol of cleansing of the evil from this land.  I prayed and then sprinkled water on the tree.  I'm not sure what the butchers and beggars beneath the tree thought about all this, but I just hope that God was glorified and His presence made known to them.  

We had the privilege to play music for Bebey's sister's wedding.  It was a great experience.  We arrived home to an awful smell.  There were dead and decomposing chickens laying in front of our gate.  A neighbor explained that it was just the time of year for chickens to die.  I'm not so sure I believe him.  I picked them up with some sticks and built a fire to burn them.

We went back for our appointment the next week with Roger.  We prayed in the truck before leaving it at the top of the mountain at the beginning of the trail.  Me, Luke, FanFan, and Wesley.  When we opened our eyes after praying we noticed an old woman had appeared right in front of the truck.  She was making some motions with her hands and talking out of her head.  I tried to talk to her, but Wesley and FanFan just told me to leave her alone because she was not making sense.  I just prayed and then she started walking away.  

We arrived at Roger's early in the morning, but there was already a pretty big group ahead of us. We were offered chairs by his wife so we accepted.  It is a good thing because it was going to be a 4 hour wait.  We sat there and were entertained by the yard animals.  All of them had a rope, but none of them had the rope fastened to anything.  The cow decided to come and hang for a while in the midst of us.  After she got bored and left the rooster came.  It crowed a little bit, and then left.  After this the dog came.  We watched for hours as it took turns moving from the shade to the sun sleeping a little while in each spot.  The cat came out and teased the dog a little, but nothing ever came of it.  All the while a steady stream of customers came.

We could hear some of the ceremonial stuff going on -  a bell ringing, some chanting, every now and then the smell of moonshine or something burning.  It was explained that he was channeling the spirits – Loa. After he had finished with all of his customers he finally came out so we could talk to him.  He said that this is the 4th time I have seen him, and I waited for 4 hours.  Maybe God really sent me and maybe I really love him.

I explained that God is Trinity.  That He is one God existing eternally as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  I explained the gospel message to him.  We are all sinners.  There is no one good.  We have all broken the law of God and because of this we deserve eternal punishment in hell.  However God is a God of mercy and grace.  There is nothing that we can do to make up for our sin, but God made a way.  He sent His only Son to complete the law in our place.  Jesus Christ.  The Son of God and God in the flesh fulfilled the law for us because we could not do it.  After this he suffered the wrath of God in our place by dying on the cross as a perfect sacrifice for our sins. Three days later He rose from the dead, revealed Himself to his disciples and many others, then He returned to the Father.  One day He will return again to judge the living and the dead.  Those who have trusted in His finished work on the cross for their salvation, who have confessed their sins, repented, and given their life to Him will be brought into His Kingdom forever.  The rest will be cast into hell forever where they will bear His wrath for all eternity along with satan and the angels who sinned.  I explained that those who trust in Christ for salvation should follow Him in obedience and be baptized into the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit.   

I mostly just read scriptures from the Creole bible and explained in Creole.  I asked if he understood.  He said he understood very well and thanked me for explaining these things in his language.

He listened and said he believed those things.  I told him that even the demons believe, but they tremble.  He explained to me that he needed to earn a living.  I explained to him that those who practice magic will not inherit the kingdom of Heaven (Rev 21:8, Rev 22:15).  He said that it was the only way that he knew to make money.  I explained that it is nothing for a man to gain the whole world but lose his soul.(Mark 8:36-37). 

He finally ran out of excuses and then just admitted that he was scared.  He knew that what I was saying was true, but he knew that if he gave up his voodoo practice he would not have a way to earn a living.  He asked what help I could give him if he gave his life to Christ and left voodoo behind.  I told him that I understood this because I had left everything behind in America to come to Haiti following Christ.  I told him that I would pray about what help I could give him, but if he left voodoo behind to follow Christ I would do what I could for him.  He avoided letting me pray for him and we agreed that we would meet together again soon.  Before I left I gave him a gift, a creole bible.  He seemed genuinely thankful and said that he would put it under his pillow and sleep with it every night.  I told him that I hoped that he would read it.   

At that same time local authorities had finally come to inspect the orphanage.  The kids told the truth, the people responsible were confronted, and the order was given to shut it down.  I'm not sure what will happen next exactly.  We can only pray for God to do something amazing.  Meanwhile we continue like we have from the beginning – feeding and caring for the ones that show up at our house while sharing the love and truth of Christ with them.

Sunday was a beautiful morning.  We woke up at 4:30 AM and then drove into town to pick up Wesley and FanFan.  As the first rays of sunshine were reflecting on the calm surface of the ocean, I was able to baptize Wesley as a new creation in Christ.  May God be praised.  May His Kingdom come.  May His will be done.  On Earth as it Is In Heaven.

In Christ,
Laramie