Thank You, Haiti

I've been trying to sort through my reaction to the disturbing images from Haiti this week. I understand that earthquakes happen. Lives are lost daily to tragedies beyond anyone's control. Yet there's something different about what's happening in Haiti. I want to scream, "Enough!"

Our family has been connected with Haiti for years. Various mission trips. Sponsoring children. Building a water tower. Nightly prayers. Bike Day. Sending Christmas gifts in August. Packing meals this past Christmas. Something about Haiti captured our hearts from the very beginning.

I'll never forget doing construction work or wandering the streets of Port de Paix on our first visit with two ever-present, 10-year-old guides, Roman & Wesley. Both boys affectionately called me "Goliath" because they'd never seen someone so big. Neither could be trusted completely.

That same trip, we met Mudline, a shy little girl who we sponsored for years and loved like one of our own. Mudline and Mindy would sit for hours under a shade tree reading together while the boys and I played football in the street. It wasn't hard to fall in love with these children or to pray for a better future.

During our most recent mission trip (2007), we were able to find Mudline and Roman despite not having had contact with them for several years. Now a beautiful, 19-year-old woman, Mudline faces an uncertain future. She flunked out of school when it became too rigorous and her uneducated family couldn't help her keep up. Her flawless English is a marketable skill, but she can't find a way to use it.

Roman, a few years older than Mudline, has already been in prison for drug trafficking. Determined to learn from his mistakes, he was working construction at the mission and scavenging for materials to build his own fishing boat. He looked worn and beaten down. Wesley had died from a treatable disease years earlier.

Life in Haiti is hard. Despite our best efforts and constant prayers, my family was not able to chart a new course for these three. I know we've had an impact, but victory seems illusive. Why can't they catch a break? What have I done to deserve the privileged life I often take for granted? Is it fair that my girls have actually gained more through all of this than those we thought we were serving?

Mindy and I were scheduling a trip to Haiti this winter/spring when the earthquake hit. At this point, we have no idea whether that can happen. I have no illusion that anything I do -- or the combined attention of countries around the world -- will be able to solve anything. The images of truckloads of bodies being transported to mass graves haunts me. What can anyone do?

I still believe in a God who is bigger than all this, and I won't ever stop praying for hope amidst the hopelessness. Haiti's recovery from this will take decades, so there will be many opportunities to pitch in. But Haiti must be more than America's next "project." Maybe it will chart a new course for us. If this experience opens our eyes to our good fortune or prompts us to care about someone besides ourselves or just teaches us to be more generous, Haiti will once again be exporting much needed "aid" to a country whose "poverty" remains hidden.

This disaster is personal. It's so much more than just feeling sorry for the people of Haiti. I owe them something.