I’m going to Haiti on Monday.
Yeah, I know. I’m not sure I really believe it either. Part of me is still holding back lest some natural disaster strike (which it’s been known to do down there) or some logistical snafu prevents the trip from actually happening.
I may not totally believe it until my feet are on the ground in Port au Prince.
But just in case it DOES actually happen, I got my malaria prevention pills (which I start taking tomorrow), some 98% DEET bug spray and my passport.
What’s the big deal? you say. People go to Haiti all the time.
Right. But not me. I’m a codependent who is still in the early stages of recovery, who also happens to suffer from chronic depression and anxiety for which I am on daily medication.
Oh, and there’s the minor detail that I have told anyone who would listen ever since I ever HEARD of Haiti that I would NEVER, EVER GO THERE.
You know where I’m going with this, right?
Never say ‘never,’ you say.
Thanks for the advice. But it’s a little late for that.
Until the last year or so, all I ever heard of Haiti was devastation, suffering and disaster. I actually started referring to it as the Disaster Magnet of the World. If anything is going to go wrong, it’s going to go wrong in Haiti.
There are still tons of people living in tents from the horrible earthquake of 2010. Which, as you would imagine, did not work out so well for them when Hurricane Matthew blew through a few months ago.
And just this week, an American missionary who worked closely with the organization I’m going with died from unknown causes at 33. She just didn’t wake up on Wednesday morning.
All the things that make my stomach hurt, that break my heart, that horrify me to the point of having to look away (rape, starvation, poverty) is where these people live. Every day. It’s their normal.
And in a matter of days, I will behold it live and in person. Not on the other side of a screen and with nowhere else to look.
I’m not being dramatic when I say I’m actually concerned for my mental/emotional health. I’m just not sure what it’s going to do to me. I mean, I know people who have gone there and have come back permanently traumatized by what they’ve witnessed. And seriously, you guys, I’m already pretty messed up.
And yet, since September, I have felt a tractor-beam pull to this place that will not let me go. I can’t explain it. (And believe me, I’ve tried. Ask my mom. She is NOT happy about this.) But I have to go. I can’t get there fast enough. Not because I WANT to go, but I HAVE to go.
These people whom I have never laid eyes on are suddenly my people. There are people down there whom I deeply love who I have never met (similar to the love I felt for my stepkids before I ever met them). Try to figure that one out.
Actually, don’t try to figure it out. There’s only one explanation: God. And NOBODY can figure Him out.
But here’s what one thing I DO know about God. When I say ‘never,’ He hears a triple-dog dare.
For those of you who haven’t seen A Christmas story, a triple-dog dare is ‘the coup de grâce of all dares.’ It’s something one absolutely CANNOT walk away from. If you are on the receiving end of a triple-dog dare, and have any sense of pride, you HAVE to do it.
And of course, pride comes before a fall (Proverbs 16:18) and whatever’s on the other side must be a pretty bad idea if it’s escalated to triple-dog-dare status. Oh well. Hope you have your affairs in order. It was nice knowin’ ya.
The thing is, I KNOW better. This has happened to me on a number of occasions. A few examples:
I will never go to college out of state. I was the biggest homebody in the world before my senior year of high school. My favorite place in the world was in my bed, in my house, on my street, in my town. I knew I wasn’t cut out for a big state school and had fully intended on going to Stetson (where my parents went), until a friend who knew me well and was a current student at Samford in Birmingham, Alabama suggested that I check it out. Well, it was love at first sight. And those were easily some of the best days of my life.
I will never get divorced. I know everybody says/thinks that. Nobody says their vows with that 50% statistic in the back of their mind. When I said ‘forever,’ I meant it. And when the unthinkable happened, I tried to KEEP meaning it. Until I just couldn’t. To be honest, it’s still hard to believe.
I will never live in Orlando. Born and raised 80 miles north in beautiful Ocala, Florida, Orlando was known as a tourist trap. Traffic, theme parks, and most other things one would want to avoid lived in Orlando. It was only to be used for its shopping for a few hours at a time, then get out of there as quickly as the traffic will let you. Some days I still pause in the middle of my busy day and wonder how I got here. (Darn Brad and his stupid Southern accent.)
I will never be a pastor’s wife. Okay, Brad isn’t the pastor of a church. But he used to be. And as an ordained minister, he still plays many pastoral roles at First Pres, preaches on occasion, hosts in worship, does hospital visits, presides over weddings and funerals. I remember telling him in one of our first phone conversations, “I am NOT making pies. I am NOT singing in the choir. I am NOT hosting fancy dinner parties.” Yeah, we’ll see.
And now Haiti.
Back in September I was listening to a new friend who has given her life to the impoverished nation speak about her job-creating organization. She was five minutes into her talk when I texted Brad: I think I’m going to Haiti.
A couple nights later, I had said friend over for drinks by the pool. Not long into our chat, she paused and looked at me thoughtfully, “I don’t mean to be presumptuous or anything, but I feel like you’re supposed to go,” she offered carefully.
I took a swig of my vodka and cranberry juice and replied, “No, you’re right. I’m totally supposed to go.” She grinned, and I bought a plane ticket.
Here’s the thing: God has a plan, a massive plan for the redemption of the world. And frankly, He doesn’t have time for all our rules and self-imposed limitations. (I’m not saying He likes divorce or wants divorce, nor do I endorse or condone it. But He knew it was coming and had already worked it into His plan.)
Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails, Proverbs 19:21.
Yeah, tell me about it.
But you know what? As painful and unexpected as this ride has been at times, I’m still glad He’s driving.
As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts, Isaiah 55:9.
And I don’t know exactly what He’s doing, but in my brief 37 years on this planet I know that I DEFINITELY want to be a part of it. Because if I know my God (and I do), the picture He’s painting with all the twists and turns in our lives is going to be a masterpiece so breathtaking that my earthly heart would not even be able to withstand its beauty.
So I try not to say ‘never’ anymore. Sometimes it still slips out and when I hear my voice say it, I gasp inwardly and feel the holy smile of my all-knowing, all-powerful Father.
You know what I mean, Lord.
Yes, I do, My child.
Just do whatever You want. I triple-dog dare You.
Because I’m in. I gave my heart to Jesus when I was five years old and He has yet to give it back. And what I didn’t realize at five, but I fully understand now is that to give Jesus your heart means to give Him your LIFE and everything in it. It’s terrifying.
But you know what scares me more than surrendering my plan for His? Holding onto my pitiful ideas for my life and missing what He has for me and His purpose for my time on this earth.
So I challenge you to exchange all your ‘nevers’ for ‘whatevers.’
In fact, I triple-dog dare you.
