Park Your Heart

When I was about ten years old, I had a very vivid dream. In my dream, I was standing between a mountain and the sea. If I stood looking one way, I was facing clear, blue water and rolling waves. If I turned my back to the sea, I was looking up at a mountain range, jagged peaks and dropping cliffs. I remember waking up from the dream and being in awe that a place existed, though I wasn't completely sure it really did. I'd never heard of a place with both mountains and ocean so close in proximity. The beauty of it left even that ten year old girl amazed at God's creation.

Wednesday while we were in Haiti, we went up the mountain to visit a church/school. After crossing a rickety bridge (which I basically ran across because it freaked me out) and walking through a small cluster of houses, we made it to the top of the mountain. And if I hadn't been so out of breath from walking up the mountain, I would have broken down in tears at the beauty and the majesty of my Creator.

There, right in front of me, was the exact spot I had dreamt about almost fifteen years ago. I was standing with my back to the mountains and I was looking out over the sea. Unfortunately in those pictures, I couldn't get a good view of the mountains, but the spot where I'm standing in the first one was the exact, I mean the EXACT, spot I was standing in my dream. All I could do was stare and praise and admire how incredible our God really is. Words cannot describe the overwhelming sense of peace I felt at that moment, and the quiet, still voice that reminded me that He is over all and in all. 

This week in Haiti was unlike my last visit in so many ways. Think of a vase. If that vase falls off the table and breaks in half where it's still possible to piece it back together, you piece it back together. You mend it until it looks the way it was before. But even if you've glued this vase back together, it's still prone to breaking again if it falls off the table, and chances are it'll break easier and in the same places, plus more. My heart, that vase, broke in so many different places. We got the chance to spend more time with the children in Grand Goave, and their happiness and their smiles and their energy was toxic. One certain boy stole all of our hearts and made it so hard to leave.

I got the chance to really talk and bond with some of the translators this year. Last year, I was very standoffish and nervous about language barriers. This year, I opened myself up to what God wanted from me, and I jumped in and made connections. Making those connections made leaving Grand Goave so difficult, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Really getting to know those guys and the culture along with it made me fall more in love with Haiti than I was before.

Sunday morning we worshipped with a church in Grand Goave. While that was and always will be my most favorite part of being with the Haitians, it cannot compare to the experience I got to have Wednesday night. Our team had the opportunity to lead a service at the same church on how to be a Godly parent. Brandon and I had the opportunity to lead two worship songs, and we did "Open the Eyes of My Heart" and "Above All". The first one went great, and the Haitians sang along with us. When we got through the first chorus of "Above All", the translator took my microphone from me and started talking. Needless to say, I was extremely confused and just stared at him, knowing he would explain. He handed the mic back to me and said, "They will worship with you now." When I looked back out at the congregation, everyone, not just "the blancs", were standing and raising their hands and worshipping with us. I was overcome with so much emotion and so filled with the Spirit, and then I knew. This is how it's supposed to be. This is how we are supposed to be worshipping. Regardless of color, or language, or location, or culture... God is the SAME God in America that He is in Haiti, and we should ALL be worshipping with the same exhilaration that we witnessed in Haiti that night. I have no words, other than:

"After this, I looked, and there was a vast multitude from every nation, tribe, people, and language, which no one could number, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were robed in white with palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice:

Salvation belongs to our God,

who is seated on the throne,

and to the Lamb!"

-Revelation 7:9-10

The week is now over. I am now in the over-privileged comfort of my home. Standing in my room last night, the floodgates opened and I cried heavy tears to the fact that my room was the size of a normal house in Haiti. As soon as I opened my eyes this morning, tears began to fall knowing that I was not in Haiti any more, and I didn't have the beauty of waking up to the children at Heart 2 Heart singing and laughing. While I am home, my heart did not come home with me. 

98 more days until I'm connected with my heart once again.