Things turned hard almost immediately after I arrived back.
(Keep in mind, the first section of this information occurred when I was not here, Wednesday, the day before I arrived, so my information is not to be relied on; only what I think I gathered from others.)
There was a college group in from Freed-Hardeman University. The group was at the beach on Wednesday (I arrived Thursday). Warnings were up at the beach not to swim, but there were some swimmers in the water. However, the FHU group was not swimming. There were some that were wading in water from knee deep to waist deep. A large unexpected wave came in and swept 3 boys (men) out without warning. Extraordinarily high and intense waves. Two were able to struggle back to shore after a major effort. One, Shane Ruiz, despite fighting to get back, could not. He was swept out to sea. Hours of rescue attempt and with the risk of others that dove in to save Shane were of no avail. Attempts for almost 10 days to retrieve his body have been unsuccessful.
I arrived back to Rio San Juan on Friday to a broken group of missionaries. And, the process began for family members to arrive; and a search to recover Shane’s body.
I have been involved in supporting and helping where I can, if I can. The family (parents, girlfriend, etc.) arrived around the same time I did. It of course has been unspeakably painful from them. Not only the tragedy, but as of now (Sunday), still no sign of the body either.
We have 2 more days of an expert recovery specialist from the US has come in to us Sonar to try to find him, but it does not look good. We are all praying that the Lord releases the body back to his family for them to have a little closure.
Most of you know of my experience in Africa with the loss of the boy when we were in Zambia. Many things remind me of that situation. I remember how difficult it was to move forward. I think many of the missionaries are feeling the same as we did that time.
And, during this whole process, Satan is at work attempting to break spirits and destroy the efforts of many good people that have been working for many years to bring some hope to this area. This blog is probably not the right forum for the details, but suffice to say that we all need a lot of prayer and hope (spiritual hope) that God will heal.
Also, during this incident, Marsil Paul and Nidia came to visit. The day after they arrived, I assisted the family with others arriving at the airport and was not with them that day. They decided to leave RSJ early and head back to Santiago. But, they also decided to take all the food I had purchased for their visit, with them, without telling me, or asking me. I arrived back that evening, hoping to fix a sandwich before bed and discovered that all the food I had bought for their visit was gone. I called Nidia to ask why she had taken it. I told her it was not appropriate to take it without telling me. I said I would be happy to give anything to her, but to take it without asking was not right. She basically handled it as I should have expected. Got hot tempered; angry, and without any thinking started yelling and screaming over the phone.
This was my friend whom I now have lost. Not unlike the stereotypes that I had to make of Latino women. Long story short, she has decided that we cannot be friends any more. I regret she feels that way, but I don’t regret letting her know that her actions were hurtful to me. If I could not be honest in my feelings then it was probably not a long term friendship anyway. My biggest regret is the lost of my relationship with Paul and Marsil. I enjoyed a good relationship of love and friendship. That will be almost impossible at this point.
I pray God heals that situation as well. But, I also have minimal expectations that I will be able to truly understand or be understood with Nidia. More cultural walls to climb.
And, lastly, the property we were about to purchase has fallen through. For various reasons, we are unable to move forward because of the need for company papers from the seller that are not being given to us. We cannot afford to purchase property that does not have clear title, and in the DR, there is no such thing as title insurance. Many foreigners get cheated out of their money because they do not get proper documentation for property purchases. We are trying to avoid that, and thus, cannot move forward. So, we are back to square one in the property search.
There were be good weeks and bad weeks. This was a pretty bad week in many ways. Almost everything that was moving forward has either fallen, or stalled.
As of now, I’m not too down. Yes, a little sadden by all the events, but I’m also confident that I only want what God wants. And I’m counting on Him showing me what’s best. Not me trying to figure that out.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Back in the DR, Almost
At least on my way. And, it feels good, and strange, as usual. Each time, I slip the surly bonds of the US, and fly into the DR, to touch the "other" face of God (to borrow from a Reagan speech, or more like a Reagan speechwriter's speech) the experience seems to always offer anticipation, caution, and excitement.
I remember when I had a home up in Canada. Each time I stayed at my home in Canada, I felt, not quite Canadian, but close to it. At least I felt at home there. Even for brief moments. But then, like going through a magic transporter, when I was back in Florida, it was a different life all together. Two worlds tied together, but each unique.
That's basically the case with my life in the DR and the US. While it's entirely different than what I experience in the States, I do feel like I can be at home in the DR (at least so far). And, I think that's a huge blessing. When I'm in the DR, my mind is not back in the US. And, when I'm in the US, my mind is not always in the DR. Yes, there are flash backs from either side, generally of people I love, but I seem to mostly be able to live in the moment. And, by God's grace, find good people and a good life in the moment.
When I slip my mind back into the DR (and my body that tags along), it's with anticipation of the life I lead there. I hope that I don't try to lead my US life in the DR. I do try (and I will confess) to find a few comforts of home, but those really are only the external things. And truly few, relatively speaking. From the inside, from inside me, my life in the DR is good. And, my mind is settle to live there.
Many ask me, how long I'm going to be there. My short answer is basically until the work is done (when God releases me, or sends me on). I think that's 3 to 5 years, but it may be longer; it may be shorter. Only God knows. But, I do know that the DR is home for now. Not Florida. Yes, my house is in FL, but my life is in the DR.
There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, in a place in the DR all by myself, not even my dog as a companion, and wonder, what in the world am I doing in this strange place. (hearing donkey's and chicken's making their calls in the background) But, I generally fall back to sleep quickly, and wake in the morning to the rush of the day. And find joy in the work set before me that day.
And, perhaps even a little cautiously wonder how I was chosen to be a part of this amazing adventure. Perhaps even feel sorry for those that cannot or choose not to join the adventure.
But, for now, I'm headed back. And, looking forward to all the sights and sounds, but mostly the people I can grow from, learn from, share with, and be with in what I believe is God's amazing adventure in the DR.
I remember when I had a home up in Canada. Each time I stayed at my home in Canada, I felt, not quite Canadian, but close to it. At least I felt at home there. Even for brief moments. But then, like going through a magic transporter, when I was back in Florida, it was a different life all together. Two worlds tied together, but each unique.
That's basically the case with my life in the DR and the US. While it's entirely different than what I experience in the States, I do feel like I can be at home in the DR (at least so far). And, I think that's a huge blessing. When I'm in the DR, my mind is not back in the US. And, when I'm in the US, my mind is not always in the DR. Yes, there are flash backs from either side, generally of people I love, but I seem to mostly be able to live in the moment. And, by God's grace, find good people and a good life in the moment.
When I slip my mind back into the DR (and my body that tags along), it's with anticipation of the life I lead there. I hope that I don't try to lead my US life in the DR. I do try (and I will confess) to find a few comforts of home, but those really are only the external things. And truly few, relatively speaking. From the inside, from inside me, my life in the DR is good. And, my mind is settle to live there.
Many ask me, how long I'm going to be there. My short answer is basically until the work is done (when God releases me, or sends me on). I think that's 3 to 5 years, but it may be longer; it may be shorter. Only God knows. But, I do know that the DR is home for now. Not Florida. Yes, my house is in FL, but my life is in the DR.
There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, in a place in the DR all by myself, not even my dog as a companion, and wonder, what in the world am I doing in this strange place. (hearing donkey's and chicken's making their calls in the background) But, I generally fall back to sleep quickly, and wake in the morning to the rush of the day. And find joy in the work set before me that day.
And, perhaps even a little cautiously wonder how I was chosen to be a part of this amazing adventure. Perhaps even feel sorry for those that cannot or choose not to join the adventure.
But, for now, I'm headed back. And, looking forward to all the sights and sounds, but mostly the people I can grow from, learn from, share with, and be with in what I believe is God's amazing adventure in the DR.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
I Case I Can't Speak
I rarely have a problem speaking, but I've been ask to speak at my Grandma's funeral. She passed away today, early this morning. I'm in San Juan Puerto Rico on way way back to Alabama for the funeral. I spoke to Mom. She's doing okay, but she also informed me that I would need to say a "few words" at the funeral. My preference is no for fear my emotions will overcome my words, but this is not a time you say "no" to someone who's lost their mother. So, by God's grace, I will say something.
But in case I can't speak the words I want to because of emotions, or whatever, I will say...
First of all, my Grandma was amazing to me as a boy and young man. From chocolate milk from a bottle delivered by a milk man many years ago, to washing my stinky uniforms at the steak resturant I worked at, she loved to love on me. And, all those and many more jestures of love, without ever being asked. And, the final words my Grandma said to me as she hugged my neck in January, and I had the thought of that possibly being the last time I'd see her on this side, "I love you." And that she did.
Because of people like my Grandma, and probably for people like you, we have never stood alone. We have never lived aloned, or prayed alone, or succeeded alone. We have stood on the shoulders of some incredible family. And whether it is my dear friend Shana Bruno and her awesome family (who happens to be Jewish) or all the families I know that have Christian faith backgrounds, how incredibly blessed we have been. I only have to look in the DR and Haiti to know how broken families can produce broken lives. And yet, that is not our experience. Far from it. And, the only reason it is not our experience is that God has blessed us with the deep loving relationships from our families. Our family may be far from perfect. Far from easy sometimes, but it's the marathon that counts, not the sprint. And it's the marathon we've all run in, and the marathon of our grandparents (and uncles, and aunts, and cousins, good friends, and our faith family) that make those bonds special.
So, thank you Grandma for the shoulders to stand on, to lean on, to laugh on, to cry on. You blessed my life in ways I will only understand perhaps on the other side of life. But I am at least beginning to see how amazing my life is because of you. Thank you. I truly wish you rest. I hope you're having an amazing reunion with my grandfather, and my father, and Joey, and others we've had to let go on this side. And, I will do my best to honor the value of family that you instilled in me.
But, in case I can't speak at your funeral, perhaps you'll get this message.
But in case I can't speak the words I want to because of emotions, or whatever, I will say...
First of all, my Grandma was amazing to me as a boy and young man. From chocolate milk from a bottle delivered by a milk man many years ago, to washing my stinky uniforms at the steak resturant I worked at, she loved to love on me. And, all those and many more jestures of love, without ever being asked. And, the final words my Grandma said to me as she hugged my neck in January, and I had the thought of that possibly being the last time I'd see her on this side, "I love you." And that she did.
Because of people like my Grandma, and probably for people like you, we have never stood alone. We have never lived aloned, or prayed alone, or succeeded alone. We have stood on the shoulders of some incredible family. And whether it is my dear friend Shana Bruno and her awesome family (who happens to be Jewish) or all the families I know that have Christian faith backgrounds, how incredibly blessed we have been. I only have to look in the DR and Haiti to know how broken families can produce broken lives. And yet, that is not our experience. Far from it. And, the only reason it is not our experience is that God has blessed us with the deep loving relationships from our families. Our family may be far from perfect. Far from easy sometimes, but it's the marathon that counts, not the sprint. And it's the marathon we've all run in, and the marathon of our grandparents (and uncles, and aunts, and cousins, good friends, and our faith family) that make those bonds special.
So, thank you Grandma for the shoulders to stand on, to lean on, to laugh on, to cry on. You blessed my life in ways I will only understand perhaps on the other side of life. But I am at least beginning to see how amazing my life is because of you. Thank you. I truly wish you rest. I hope you're having an amazing reunion with my grandfather, and my father, and Joey, and others we've had to let go on this side. And, I will do my best to honor the value of family that you instilled in me.
But, in case I can't speak at your funeral, perhaps you'll get this message.
The Dusty Road
Haiti seems to never get old. At least the experience of Haiti never gets old. The conditions of Haiti get tiring, very tiring, but not old. At least not to me. I went in just this past week and saw the same things I saw seven years ago, and the same things I've been seeing for seven years, but for some reason the experience always seems fresh, in a sad way. And asking the same questions I've been asking for six years. Still no answers. Many suffering; the good and the bad. I do wonder what God is doing and what He wants us to do.
But, the trip was good. I went in with Holly Eckhart, Melissa Jung, Luckson, and a group they were leading from their local churches and Harding University. I met some of them in Puerta Plata, DR for 2 days of R&R. And, I'm finding that being a missionary does have a few perks. Melissa paid for my hotel room. And, it was a very nice place. Good to refresh before heading into Haiti. (Hot water and A/C are two of the most amazing things!!) Another person in the group paid for my gas to travel to the boarder, and others were generous in other ways. They were all great to be around.
When the trip started, it seemed long and hot the whole time. Haiti has not had rain for more than 2 months. Everything is dust. So much dust, that you get in the middle of "dust outs" riding down the road. Dust so thick you can't see the vehicle in front of you. And, with traveling in a car with the windows down or on the back of a truck, you become a magnet for dust.
I was working with Holly (an RN) in visiting homes and providing medicines and help with the health issues. Holly was called away to another issue, and asked if I would continue to see the patients. Having been on the clinic trips several times, I said sure I'll do it. Most of the patients are needing either OTC pain meds, Vermox (worm medicine), vitamins, some medicated lotion, or just food. So it was with this trip. With two other Harding students, we ventured on. And, I'm not a doctor, but I played one for a day. I think my white skin helped. Cases I was uncomfortable or unfamiliar with, I referred to the real doctor who was with us.
When we were passing out things to help, we ran across one old lady who needed some lotion. I explained to the Harding girls with me that often the most healing thing is the human touch. I suggested they give her some lotion, but also ask if they could apply some to her arms and hands. Like a mini massage of sorts. The old lady's eyes lit up. And so did her blouse. Before we knew it she had her blouse off, no bra, and well endowed, but well aged breasts showing, or more like hanging. You should have seen the look in those girls eyes. What were they to do? Apply lotion everywhere?? It was very funny. But, instead of a full body massage, after a pause of shock, we suggested she put her blouse back on, and just let them massage her arms. Oh the things you see in Haiti.
I wish I was smart enough or wise enough to know how to truly help. And perhaps that's what is so discouraging about Haiti. Looking back and wondering what was really accomplished. And yet, admiring those who live there by choice (missionaries) and battle every day the unspeakable conditions. And I admire those who live there by God's providence who have no choice to leave, but still seem to survive another day.
So, I left Haiti in a cloud of dust. Dust on the road; dust on my brain; dust in my eyes. Not seeing clearly.
But, the trip was good. I went in with Holly Eckhart, Melissa Jung, Luckson, and a group they were leading from their local churches and Harding University. I met some of them in Puerta Plata, DR for 2 days of R&R. And, I'm finding that being a missionary does have a few perks. Melissa paid for my hotel room. And, it was a very nice place. Good to refresh before heading into Haiti. (Hot water and A/C are two of the most amazing things!!) Another person in the group paid for my gas to travel to the boarder, and others were generous in other ways. They were all great to be around.
When the trip started, it seemed long and hot the whole time. Haiti has not had rain for more than 2 months. Everything is dust. So much dust, that you get in the middle of "dust outs" riding down the road. Dust so thick you can't see the vehicle in front of you. And, with traveling in a car with the windows down or on the back of a truck, you become a magnet for dust.
I was working with Holly (an RN) in visiting homes and providing medicines and help with the health issues. Holly was called away to another issue, and asked if I would continue to see the patients. Having been on the clinic trips several times, I said sure I'll do it. Most of the patients are needing either OTC pain meds, Vermox (worm medicine), vitamins, some medicated lotion, or just food. So it was with this trip. With two other Harding students, we ventured on. And, I'm not a doctor, but I played one for a day. I think my white skin helped. Cases I was uncomfortable or unfamiliar with, I referred to the real doctor who was with us.
When we were passing out things to help, we ran across one old lady who needed some lotion. I explained to the Harding girls with me that often the most healing thing is the human touch. I suggested they give her some lotion, but also ask if they could apply some to her arms and hands. Like a mini massage of sorts. The old lady's eyes lit up. And so did her blouse. Before we knew it she had her blouse off, no bra, and well endowed, but well aged breasts showing, or more like hanging. You should have seen the look in those girls eyes. What were they to do? Apply lotion everywhere?? It was very funny. But, instead of a full body massage, after a pause of shock, we suggested she put her blouse back on, and just let them massage her arms. Oh the things you see in Haiti.
I wish I was smart enough or wise enough to know how to truly help. And perhaps that's what is so discouraging about Haiti. Looking back and wondering what was really accomplished. And yet, admiring those who live there by choice (missionaries) and battle every day the unspeakable conditions. And I admire those who live there by God's providence who have no choice to leave, but still seem to survive another day.
So, I left Haiti in a cloud of dust. Dust on the road; dust on my brain; dust in my eyes. Not seeing clearly.
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