Book Covers

I like books and admit I pick up books based on the cover!
Catchy title, great picture, I'll bite.
A good cover should peak your interest and pull you in.
If it passes the "this looks good test", sometimes I save it to my "wish list" on Amazon.
I won't tell you how many books I have on my "wish list".
How about the book that pulls you in, only to end up sitting on a shelf titled "need to read".
People are like books and it is best to take heed to the old saying, "don't judge a book by it's cover".
I believe this to be a true statement, yet I am not sure I (we) follow this rule.
Take Sean Penn, what if he was a book.
Would you even think twice about his cover?
I just heard he wished his critics would get cancer!
What makes people say stuff like that?
Not sure if you like him?
Personally, I neither love nor hate the guy.
Yet, there seems to be no middle on the subject.
Maybe you think he is a great actor and hate his politics or vice versa.
I can think of a few things I would like to ask him about, this I know for sure.
My first thought when I look at his cover falls under misguided passion.
Did you see the poor guy on "Larry King Live"?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gr2cfXwxmyo
I laughed out loud when I watched the interview Dan taped for me while I was in Haiti.
Haiti kicked his butt big time.
Maybe he is in it for the fame.
I don't know.
I hope he isn't that kind of guy.
Larry King threw the bait at him, time and time again to get him to talk about something different but he stuck to his guns and said everything he wanted to say about Haiti.

See the little girl looking at you?
Her name is Rosemerline.
Cute cover, huh!
For a month the folks at Heartline Ministries have been working on getting the last of the remaining five children left in their program out of Haiti to their "forever families".
Well, it just so happened Little Miss got to leave Haiti with her "forever mom", Juanita, a friend of ours here in Atlanta on Sean Penn's plane.
I wonder how this random act of kindness changed her cover?
His book cover now has my attention and is now sitting on my "need to read" shelf.
If only I could read the last chapter in his book to see just what happened to Sean Penn's heart while he was in Haiti.
Haiti is a whole different animal.
You think you are going to help "them" and you come back so messed up you have no idea what happened, sometimes for weeks.
In a good way of course.
It is the funny thing about books and relationships, you never know what God is doing in the journey.
He never uses the ones the world thinks are perfect and right for the job, never, not once.
Not with Moses, David, Peter, Rahab or the long list of others.
He is funny that way.
Yet, He is the author and the finisher, that we know for sure.
I pray Sean Penn will see the powerful writing of God on the pages of his life, that his chapter will be one that makes me and the rest of the world say,
see, you really can't judge a book by it's cover.

"For me, an area of moral clarity is: you're in front of someone who's suffering and you have the tools at your disposal to alleviate that suffering or even eradicate it, and you act."

--Paul Farmer

Edison

My first night home from Haiti I dreamt about being in an earthquake.
Go figure!
I couldn't find Maddie and I woke up crying.
I went back to sleep, only to wake up in a cold sweat because the dream started again.
Only this time, Rosemine, one of our friends that works at the palace died and I still couldn't find Maddie.
For many in Haiti, it wasn't a dream, there really was an earthquake and many mothers would never find their family.


Edison was a little boy who just happened to steal Lisa's heart.
He's wasn't the first, nor will he be the last, this I am sure of.
After talking to him she found out he didn't know what happened to his parents.
He had two brothers, he went to school, but wasn't sure about his parents.
The Comfort ship had treated him because they couldn't help him at General hospital.
When it was time to leave, he was taken off the ship and transported to the Heartline hospital.
I still am not sure how it worked out this way.
Lisa was now on a mission, she was going to come up with a way to find his family.
She loaded him up in the car with her as she ran a few errands to see if he could point her in the right direction.
Nope, he was too little.
Finally, someone said, "what about the television station".
So off we went to find the television station, well, what was left of the television station.
This kid was so stinkin' cute and kept looking at Lisa while we drove up and down Delma.
I finally busted out laughing, I had seen that look before.
We made a few stops asking people if they knew Edison, asked for directions, finally found the station right in the middle of a tent city on the grounds of a large Catholic school.
We drove in, parked and walked up like we knew what we were doing.
I had my huge green bag and camera so I guess I could have passed for a reporter.
They never asked and we didn't offer.
This was one of the only times it payed to be white in this country.
We explained the story, asked if they could help and the next thing we knew he was on live television.
Just like that!
We thanked them again and again!
God, please let this work, was all I could think.


Sure enough the very next morning we got a phone call that Edison's dad was at the hospital.
Don't let them leave, we will be right there!
It worked!
The father explained he had no idea what had happened to Edison, it was a huge mix-up.
This was one happy little guy and Papa!
We all stood around taking pictures, crying.
It was so good to see families being brought back together.
Who says, "you can't find a needle in a hay stack?"
Nine million people, one boy and one dad together again.
Some dreams do come true!

Whole Lotta Love

Led Zeppelin is not a band I would consider putting on my "favorites list".
For the life of me I can't begin to come up with a good reason why "Whole Lotta Love" was stuck in my head while I was in Haiti.
I can make the leap to connect a war zone atmosphere, an inability to process what happened to Haiti in forty-five seconds and the possibility of what could be a really bad acid trip, but why was this song stuck in my head?
Over and over again for hours on end.
If you take the title of the song, it is a true statement, there really is a "Whole Lotta Love" going on in what feels, looks and acts like a war zone.
The country is full of airplanes that don't look like they could get off the ground, not to mention they shake the earth as they come in, U.S. troops drive the streets in Hummers, there are tons more U.N. troops and Heuy's moving in and out of the airport all the time.
On my first trip in I remember thinking to myself, "what the heck are all these dogs doing at the airport"?
It wasn't until I was getting ready to leave that I made the connection, these dogs are trained to look for bodies.
Haiti was never going to be the same.
I was wrestling with this idea.
Was it going to be better?
Dear God, How could it be worse?
So many things just seemed normal.
That in itself was disturbing.
As we drove the streets Sunday afternoon, I could hear some of the first timers talking.
Was there always this much garbage?
I wondered, how is it that this country had such tenacity?
Did they feel like the whole world was trying to help?
I hoped so.
Maybe they didn't even have time to think about it?

I'm gonna give you my love...I'm gonna give you my love...Wanna Whole Lotta Love...Whole Lotta Love...Whole Lotta Love...Whole Lotta Love

I'm gonna give you my love...I'm gonna give you my love...Wanna Whole Lotta Love...Whole Lotta Love...Whole Lotta Love...Whole Lotta Love

I'm gonna give you my love...I'm gonna give you my love...Wanna Whole Lotta Love...Whole Lotta Love...Whole Lotta Love...Whole Lotta Love

Did It Smell Bad?

Several people have asked, "did it smell bad"?
If they are asking, did I walk around with tooth paste under my nose because it smelled like dead bodies, the answer is no.
No, it didn't smell like dead bodies and no, I didn't walk around with tooth paste under my nose like the Haitians.
This is Haiti, yes, it smelled bad, it always smells bad.
The earthquake didn't make it smell bad, it smelled bad before the earthquake.
We are talking open sewers, rotten fruit and garbage, burning trash and no place to put the garbage that is collected.
There are dumpsters and garbage trucks in Haiti, but you have to actually pick up the garbage and put is some place for it to be a good thing.
Maybe they should try and be sneaky by hiding it all under grass like they do it South Florida.
In Haiti, they just happened to build a city on top of it.
It's true, eight miles of trash, as a matter a fact.
No one is saying it's a good thing, yet it is reported that 300,000 living, breathing human beings live there.
Think about how low the baseline must be for the health of the children who live in Cité Soleil.

But, in an area regarded as one of the poorest and most dangerous areas of the Western Hemisphere's poorest country and one of the biggest slums in the Northern Hemisphere with little police presence, no sewers, no stores, and little to no electricity, two men and a handful of people made a stand to renounce voodoo and ask Jesus to come and be in this place.

After three days of prayer and fasting the country was busy again, we would make a run on the medical truck into Cité Soleil. With clinic in progress, two guys walked up not far behind our truck, threw a voodoo bag down on the ground, started a fire on the bag, burning an exposed bottle of rum and it's other contents as a coconut rolled out of the bag into the street. They took out bibles from the pants pockets and everyone started to pray.
Let me just say, I didn't break out in song declaring how good God was, nor did I give Him a clap offering!
Don't get me wrong, I think God is one great guy!
He has his act together, he has a wicked funny scenes of humor and I am pretty sure he has a plan.
No, I know he has a plan, I read the last chapter of the book.
However, my first thought was... great, just great, I am in Cité Soleil with a truck full of white people and we are going to be in the middle of a frickin' riot!
I very quickly tucked my camera inside my baseball cap and didn't move.
Priorities, I have them!
I wanted to keep my camera and I wasn't gonna be a happy camper if I didn't.
Reynold and Oriole, our security guys both looked at me.
Why would they looked at me? Well, I know why they looked at me.
They both stood up, told me to get up and walked me over so I could take pictures!
I had been by myself all day and now they wanted to be my security, or maybe I was theirs, I'm not sure.
The funny part is they wanted to look at my pictures as soon as I took them, they really think the camera can capture stuff.
Needless to say when they started praying with the voodoo guys I punched them.
"What on earth do you think you are doing!"
I grilled them!
I needed to really understand what was happening.
I have been working in Haiti long enough to know a few things, but there are lots of secrets and lots of things I don't understand. You learn to ask questions twenty-five different ways.
And I did!
Again and again until I understood.

At this point, I had forgotten about the smell, I felt like I was the one that smelled bad!
Everything about me smelled bad, all my good American ideas, my bad attitude because someone took my water bottle out of my bag, my lame excuses about a hundred different things.
I was embarrassed that my country, for all the good that is here, would never shut down the whole entire place for three days to pray and fast, asking God to come and help.
With all Haiti's faults, bad government, crummy adoption rules, I wished someone could bottle what these people had and give it to the rest of the world. The world would be a much different place, a better place.
Would it smell better?
Not right away, change takes time,
The Lord says, if my people are willing to repent and turn from their ways, he is willing to come and heal their land.

How Are The Sewing Ladies?

As we drove from the airport to the women's program house a.k.a the hospital, I saw the sewing ladies walking down the road.
They had just finished sewing for the day.
I couldn't help myself from yelling out to them.
Never did I think they would all start screaming and run after the truck!
It was by far more than my heart ever could have dreamed of for a reunion with them.
I missed them so very much!
We hugged and cried together!
It was late but I promised we would spend time together talking about all that had happened to them over the next few days.
I had 100 pounds of fabric for them and lots of new thread.
My trips had many sweet reunions and they did my heart so much good.
How could anyone not love this place and these people.

Everyone has been asking, "how are the sewing ladies"?
Physically they are fine!
My goal was to make sure that each lady was physically fine and to see what happened with her family.
Did they have food, water and medication that they may need.
Housing, well, that would be a whole different story.
They all had moved out of their house no matter what the story or condition was.
It didn't matter if they had a few cracks or if the wall could have been pushed over with one strong push, they all had made the choice to sleep outside in groups because of what "might" or "could" happen.
Many have been given tents or tarps to live in or under and that was the end of the story.

Over the next few days I would sit down with each of them and ask about their house.
I would go and visit a few of them so that I could see first hand what the condition of the house was.
I was pleased that for most of them their houses only had minor work needed.
The work that needed to be done would need to be done without cement and block.
Fear had taken over their hearts and minds.
Rightfully so, from where I was sitting.
How was I going to tell them everything was going to be fine, I was getting on a plane in a few days.
It wasn't sitting well with me that I was just going to drop off fabric and leave again.
The things we fear are not always rational, no matter who we are or where we live.
I had a headache, I had no answers, I would need time to pray about just what I would say.
Tomorrow I would try again.

Getting To Haiti

Many asked, " why I didn't write while I was in Haiti".
I would like to say, I had planned to do something really spiritual like a computer fast, but truth be told, I plain forgot the dumb thing.
When I got to the security check point at the airport and went to unzip my suitcase so I could put my computer in one of those little gray box things, my heart sank, I had forgotten the stupid thing.
I have nightmares about stuff like this.
In trying to make sure my battery had a full charge, I left it sitting on the couch over night.
As I stood barefoot in line, I tried to convince myself that it was just as well because the Internet is never all that great.
The next question, "how was my trip"?
Such a hard question.
Over the next few days I will try to answer that question.
My short answer - It is layers of complicated.