I’m just curious…
If one of your co-workers came in tomorrow to the office and told you their house had flooded during the night, would you be led to help?
If someone in your community stood in line with you while you both waited for coffee and told you how during last night’s storm she had to wake up all her children because the rain had rushed into their house and gotten them all wet, would you feel moved to help?
If a friend on Facebook started a fundraiser for someone you knew who had a roof that leaked every time it rained, would you contribute to the cause?
I’m just curious, you know…
Because, it’s rainy season here again.
And so many people I love and work with and fight for have all in the last week come and told me all of the above scenarios.
I feel pretty lonely as I stand in my office and listen to the one explain to me – with a smile on her face, mind you – how she had to literally pick up all three of her sleeping children off the ground because they were soaking wet on an old shabby rug that makes up their bed. The rain had rushed into their small home made of tent in the middle of the night and her and her children then had to spend the next two hours sitting up on her own bed – which I’ve sat on before and it’s set up on concrete blocks and made of plywood and old sheets – waiting for the rain to stop. This particular mama also has an almost one-year-old baby, so I asked her where the baby was during all the chaos? “Oh! The baby doesn’t sleep with us at night, my neighbor (who we built a house for over a year ago) let’s the baby sleep with her at night to protect her from the rain!”
So, what we have is a family who has to sit up during most of the night, shivering and waiting for the rain to stop and a baby who has to sleep a few doors away from her own mama just to stay dry and warm. We have a mama who finds a way to provide for her family by taping our greeting cards at the boutique every Wednesday; I don’t even know how she has the energy to get here after hearing about her night. And, before coming to work, she sends her children to school exhausted from a sleepless night in the rain. I wonder how they even can thrive with such realities? Are they even thriving?
I just really can’t deal with these realities.
But, here they are, those harsh and crude realities, in my face, every…single…day.
So, after a few more people come and tell me how the rain is causing havoc, I just begin to wonder…
If these realities were in your faces every day, would you act more promptly?
If the harshness could somehow reach your every day, busy, normal lives, would you be moved to move just a bit out of your comfort zone to keep these loved ones safe?
If the faces behind these stories became people that you knew and interacted with every day – just like I do – would you feel led to change some things in your life so they would be taken better care of? Would you financially give more? Would you set up a bake sale on Saturday? Would you go to bed with a knot in your stomach? Would your mind keep spinning and running a million miles an hour just like mine does?
Or would everything just stay the same?
I’m just curious…
I’ve been telling this same story of dirt floors, leaking roofs, tattered tents and frayed homes for years. It feels like it is a part of my actual DNA now. But, how do I not become a broken record to all of you?
How do we come up with the money to keep these brothers and sisters safe and dry?
I’m tired and point blank out of ideas, which is probably why my curiosity is getting the best of me. Yet, somehow I still hold on to hope and believe that each family who brings their piece of paper showing land ownership will one day have a safe roof to sleep under. God hasn’t made me a millionaire yet, so unfortunately, my bank account give any more than what it already does, but maybe someone out there will be moved by the Holy Spirit to show up for these families.
I’m here to do the legwork in Haiti, all I need is some creativity and resources from America!