Life is what you make it.
No one is going to make it something for you.
You continue to make your life as you age.
As you grow.
As you change.
You can not expect it to make itself.
It is an inanimate object.
When an object is in motion it stays in motion.
Unless acted upon by a force.
When an object is at rest it stays at rest.
Unless acted upon by a force.
Life is an object that needs a force to act upon it.
In your life you are that force.
You cause the standstill.
You cause the movement.
Life is what you make it.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Revisting
Weneda is a girl that most people probably wouldn't think twice about. If you remember, I wrote a blog about her back in late June while I was in Haii. I said that by looking at her you would think that she has been through a lot. But you don't have to think about it to know its the truth. You know instantly the minute those dim, dull eyes look into yours that something is wrong. I have always thought that the eyes are really the widows to the soul and when you lock eyes with Weneda, it is as if she can see your soul but you can not see hers. There is nothing in her eyes.
I have thought about her every so often since I left Haiti in July. I think about her and pray for her all the time lately. If you know me very few people's emotional states effect me on a deep, deep level. Not to say that I am not empathetic but I just don't really let other people's "junk" weigh me down. I realized the other day that she had got to me on that deep, deep emotional level and those eyes have been haunting my sleep. I have been thinking about her for the last few days and like many of my thought trains, it began with something odd...a flip-flop. My favorite flip-flops are the leather ones from American Eagle. Nothing fancy. I always have a pair and they never leave my feet during the summer. The pair I had when I arrived in Haiti had probably been my favorite (next to the ones that are the header of my blog and the feature of the blog titled "Well Worn". I wore those until they broke and then some. I think that I still have them and they are surprisingly still wearable, I just can't find them.) Anyway I am getting away from my point. If you go look at "Well Worn" you will see that I have written on the sandals. They are bible verses. I am notorious for this. I write them on my shoes as a reminder to "walk them out" if my life. Its a corny joke that I made one time but its something that stuck with me. On the broken ones as well as the pair that I brought to Haiti with me, I wrote Luke 7:47...
"Therefore I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little."
...which is something that has stuck with me since the first time I read it. It is in the story of the prostitute that washed Jesus' feet. I love that story. The verse reminds me to forgive peopleand love people. No matter what. So I wrote it on my shoes as a reminder.
While I was in Haiti this last time, I was challenged, daily, by this verse. Many things I had to forgive and many people I had to love, regardless. Which is harder than it sounds.
There are many things that I could say about Weneda and some of them I believe I have already told you. One thing I am sure that I didn't say was that she has been raped, many times. There are court cases pending...well, that is what is being said anyway. And its not like its not common knowledge, her mom lets everyone know. As hard as her life is already, I can't imagine what it is like knowing that EVERYONE knows your personal business.
As I said earlier, I wrote Luke 7:47 on my sandals before I left for Haiti. Some of you are probably aware that I did not return to the states with these sandals. I gave them to Weneda. So as I found myself staring at my flip-flops the other day, I remembered that I had wrote that on there.
I have been rolling the thought around in my head that, that verse also applies to her life as well as mine but in a radically different way. It took me at least two days to wrap my head around how and I am still not sure that I really get it. Whether I get it or not, this is the verse that comes to mind when I think about her. In her life she is going to have to learn to forgive many and love much.
"You are so good to me, You heal my broken heart, You are my father in heaven"
I have thought about her every so often since I left Haiti in July. I think about her and pray for her all the time lately. If you know me very few people's emotional states effect me on a deep, deep level. Not to say that I am not empathetic but I just don't really let other people's "junk" weigh me down. I realized the other day that she had got to me on that deep, deep emotional level and those eyes have been haunting my sleep. I have been thinking about her for the last few days and like many of my thought trains, it began with something odd...a flip-flop. My favorite flip-flops are the leather ones from American Eagle. Nothing fancy. I always have a pair and they never leave my feet during the summer. The pair I had when I arrived in Haiti had probably been my favorite (next to the ones that are the header of my blog and the feature of the blog titled "Well Worn". I wore those until they broke and then some. I think that I still have them and they are surprisingly still wearable, I just can't find them.) Anyway I am getting away from my point. If you go look at "Well Worn" you will see that I have written on the sandals. They are bible verses. I am notorious for this. I write them on my shoes as a reminder to "walk them out" if my life. Its a corny joke that I made one time but its something that stuck with me. On the broken ones as well as the pair that I brought to Haiti with me, I wrote Luke 7:47...
"Therefore I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little."
...which is something that has stuck with me since the first time I read it. It is in the story of the prostitute that washed Jesus' feet. I love that story. The verse reminds me to forgive peopleand love people. No matter what. So I wrote it on my shoes as a reminder.
While I was in Haiti this last time, I was challenged, daily, by this verse. Many things I had to forgive and many people I had to love, regardless. Which is harder than it sounds.
There are many things that I could say about Weneda and some of them I believe I have already told you. One thing I am sure that I didn't say was that she has been raped, many times. There are court cases pending...well, that is what is being said anyway. And its not like its not common knowledge, her mom lets everyone know. As hard as her life is already, I can't imagine what it is like knowing that EVERYONE knows your personal business.
As I said earlier, I wrote Luke 7:47 on my sandals before I left for Haiti. Some of you are probably aware that I did not return to the states with these sandals. I gave them to Weneda. So as I found myself staring at my flip-flops the other day, I remembered that I had wrote that on there.
I have been rolling the thought around in my head that, that verse also applies to her life as well as mine but in a radically different way. It took me at least two days to wrap my head around how and I am still not sure that I really get it. Whether I get it or not, this is the verse that comes to mind when I think about her. In her life she is going to have to learn to forgive many and love much.
"You are so good to me, You heal my broken heart, You are my father in heaven"
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Thoughts about the Unexplainable
When you go to Haiti, there is an underlying dynamic that you feel. You can not see it and you don't realize that it has even touched you until you have settled back in to what you think is normal. This dynamic is completely emotional. It is what pulls at your heart strings. When you are in Haiti there is no such thing as down time so it is able to sneak in, in the exhaustion that you feel and it goes unchecked. It is in conversations that you have and the people that you see. I believe that it is even in the air and in the rain. It is not something that we have here in the states. We have an underlying dynamic that is never mentioned but it is also never felt. Haiti is a place that makes you feel things and if you are not careful and even if you are, it brings out the ugly in you. This dynamic makes you feel all the things that, here in the states, we refuse to feel, see all the things that we refuse to see and to hear all the things that we refuse to hear. I think that it might stem from the heightened sense of awareness that you have while you are in Haiti. No distractions. It is also something that I can not explain and in any serious attempt, I would fail miserably unless I was talking to someone who has been to Haiti and felt what I am talking about. Not to say that you couldn't understand...it is just unexplainable.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
aesthetics
"Sometimes we fall down and can't get back up
Were hiding behind a skin that's too tough"
Haiti is a beautiful place if you know how to look at it.
You have to be able to see past the the trash and the rubble.
Smell past the garbage and the rot.
Feel past the rocks in your shoes and your own discomfort.
You need to able to feel the music and the voices.
Smell the food and the trees in the air.
You have to be able to see the colors and the people.
All of these things are wholly Haiti.
Even the garbage.
Yet to get caught up in the way it smells and your discomfort, would be a mistake.
You would miss a rich and colorful people with a rich and colorful culture and history.
You would miss a people who are stronger than any that you have ever met.
You wouldn't see those things about them.
You wouldn't be able to talk to them.
Understand them.
Understand that they feel very deeply and how you can hear that in their loud and boisterous conversations that sound like arguments.
You would not see the blue of the sky or the white of the moon.
Yes, it would be a mistake to get caught up in aesthetics when this place has so much more to offer than a look.
"Sometimes we fall down and can't get back up
Were hiding behind a skin that's too tough"
Haiti is a beautiful place if you know how to look at it.
You have to be able to see past the the trash and the rubble.
Smell past the garbage and the rot.
Feel past the rocks in your shoes and your own discomfort.
You need to able to feel the music and the voices.
Smell the food and the trees in the air.
You have to be able to see the colors and the people.
All of these things are wholly Haiti.
Even the garbage.
Yet to get caught up in the way it smells and your discomfort, would be a mistake.
You would miss a rich and colorful people with a rich and colorful culture and history.
You would miss a people who are stronger than any that you have ever met.
You wouldn't see those things about them.
You wouldn't be able to talk to them.
Understand them.
Understand that they feel very deeply and how you can hear that in their loud and boisterous conversations that sound like arguments.
You would not see the blue of the sky or the white of the moon.
Yes, it would be a mistake to get caught up in aesthetics when this place has so much more to offer than a look.
"Sometimes we fall down and can't get back up
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
English Camp Day 2 aka Weneda
By looking at her you would think that she has been through a lot. You would probably be right in that assumption. She is only about 15 years old and she has epilepsy. Her name is Weneda. She is beautiful and scared. Her face leaves a haunting reminder of what can happen here when things go unchecked. Her mother has said in the past that she has had a seizure and fallen into the fire and that is how she has gained the scars that are on her face and arms. But you know that there is more to that story than will ever be told.
The above picture was taken minutes after she had a seizure today at English Camp. It was as unexpected as the sight of a cat in Haiti and no one saw it coming because none of us knew. No one had been told that she had epilepsy. I knew who her mother was and that she had a daughter with epilepsy but I never made the connection that it was her. None of us that know her mother did.
During her classes bible lesson today she just stopped moving. The other kids began to tell us that she was sick and no one knew what was going on. I looked at her and immediately knew that she was having a seizure. I had seen it happen before and it scared me. All of the kids flew off the bench like it had just been lit on fire. They said they didn't want to get her sickness. After she came back to us we, you could see it on her face that she was afraid. She didn't know what had happened. We tried to move her and she clung to the bench. We finally conveyed to her what we were doing and what had happened and she allowed us to move her. We tried to figure out what was going on with her and all of this. We asked her if she was on medication or had any for her seizures. She said that she had lost her prescription. Well...then later today we talked to her again and she said that she had her prescription and would bring it tomorrow because they can't get it around here.
After the seizure today, it hurt my heart to see the way the kids treated her. No one wanted to sit back down on the bench with her. They didn't want her sickness. All of us that were in the room told the kids that they had to sit down. It actually fit right in with the lesson that Amrajeet had been talking about. The love of Jesus.
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Power of a Shoe
So I am pro shoes. I love to wear all kinds and when I heard about Tom's, I was all for that. One for one. Buy one pair and they give one away to someone else when they do a shoe drop. But I never realized the gravity of the statement "One for One" until today.
During camp as I was walking around and talking to the kids, I saw shoes that looked familiar. I looked at them, and looked at them but couldn't place them. Until I saw the little blue and white flag on the back of them. At once there was this overwhelming sense of joy in me as I realized at once that they were shoe drop shoes. I had never seen them before and I was thrilled that they had come here and handed out shoes. I was thought that this is what it looks like when this mission comes full circle. A little girl in earthquake devastated Haiti wearing the same shoes that I have on my own feet at that very moment.
It was a moment to keep in my heart place.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
The Feilds Are Blue and Gray
I can honestly say that I never imagined that seeing the tent cities would be so emotional. As we were driving to the beach yesterday we saw many. Some were in the city, near civilization. Those were not the ones that I found to be so heartbreaking. It was the ones that I saw when we got past all the cars and all the buildings. The ones on the beach road. We stopped at a gas station and I have to say that I wouldn't have seen them if I hadn't been on top of the cage truck. I seemed to have the perfect view of them from where I sat.
They were shocking. Sitting there gleaming in the sun, dots of blue and gray. Somehow they were horrifying. You looked at them and knew that they had moved out here. Knowing that the nearest town is several miles in either direction was part of the horrifying feeling the gripped me. I began to cry. Those people left all they had left behind and moved out of the city, where buildings could fall on them, to a place that seemed to be the middle of nowhere.
My heart began to hurt as we pulled away from the gas station and I could see just how far the blue and gray dots went. So many people displaced. Forced from their home, if they even had one left to begin with. I wanted to stop and talk to these people. To ask them why they had really moved so far and to see how far they had come to be right here. I wondered if any had come form down town knowing, that it would be safer out here with no unstable building for miles.
What hurt the most was that, on the way back form the beach it was raining or threatening to...it wasn't, isn't, fair. I felt bad that I got to go sleep with a solid roof over my head and a soft bed under my back and all they had was the tent or plastic tarp to sleep under and maybe nothing to sleep on. To think about the fact that there is nothing I can do hurts my head. Makes my heart cry and my eyes weep.
Then as we were driving and it began to rain, the Lord reminded me of the song that I always find to be stuck in my head when I am in Haiti. Here are the words that came to me:
You are my strong melody
You are my dancing rhythm
You are my perfect rhyme
And I want to sing forever
That you are beautiful my sweet, sweet song
You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song
You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song
And you will sing again
I began to cry once again. Knowing that it is going to get worse before anything gets better. Knowing that there is nothing I can do to fix the houses. Know that soon He will erase the dots of blue and gray and Haiti will sing again.
They were shocking. Sitting there gleaming in the sun, dots of blue and gray. Somehow they were horrifying. You looked at them and knew that they had moved out here. Knowing that the nearest town is several miles in either direction was part of the horrifying feeling the gripped me. I began to cry. Those people left all they had left behind and moved out of the city, where buildings could fall on them, to a place that seemed to be the middle of nowhere.
My heart began to hurt as we pulled away from the gas station and I could see just how far the blue and gray dots went. So many people displaced. Forced from their home, if they even had one left to begin with. I wanted to stop and talk to these people. To ask them why they had really moved so far and to see how far they had come to be right here. I wondered if any had come form down town knowing, that it would be safer out here with no unstable building for miles.
What hurt the most was that, on the way back form the beach it was raining or threatening to...it wasn't, isn't, fair. I felt bad that I got to go sleep with a solid roof over my head and a soft bed under my back and all they had was the tent or plastic tarp to sleep under and maybe nothing to sleep on. To think about the fact that there is nothing I can do hurts my head. Makes my heart cry and my eyes weep.
Then as we were driving and it began to rain, the Lord reminded me of the song that I always find to be stuck in my head when I am in Haiti. Here are the words that came to me:
You are my strong melody
You are my dancing rhythm
You are my perfect rhyme
And I want to sing forever
That you are beautiful my sweet, sweet song
You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song
You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song
And you will sing again
I began to cry once again. Knowing that it is going to get worse before anything gets better. Knowing that there is nothing I can do to fix the houses. Know that soon He will erase the dots of blue and gray and Haiti will sing again.
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