This morning I was awakened by tears and the sound of my own voice crying out. In my mind’s eye, I could still see the scene from the dream I’d been having.
A beautiful Haitian woman was walking through a street filled with gnarled traffic and lined with huge piles of rubble, half-crumbled buildings, and garbage. There were no other living beings visible.
She was both weeping and smiling; her hands uplifted in praise.
Except that she was completely alone and it was silent other than her tearful, joyful prayers, it could have been an HD video taken last week as we drove through Port-au-Prince. Silence and solitude are rare — maybe even impossible — in PAP’s streets.
As I wept and prayed with her in my transition from subconscious to conscious mind, I understood her to be symbolic of her nation. Shaken to its literal foundations by the earthquake of January 12, 2010, yet strong in spirit and faith, Haiti cries out. Her needs are many, her potential is unlimited. She gives as much hope for the Kingdom of God as she receives from its citizens. She longs to be truly free of oppression and she needs encouragement to stay the course; to see past the piles of rubble and seemingly unmovable obstacles; to be reminded of hope and testify to faith in God that transcends circumstances. She was alone, but she must not be abandoned.
Over and over, as I listened to people describe their circumstances to our team so that we could pray with them, I heard great faith. It is stretched, but unbroken. It needs encouragement, as its environment is harsh. It is tenacious. Over and over, as I listened to the Lord, seeking to intercede for these He keeps close to His heart, I heard this:
I know the plans I have for you. I will give you hope and a future.
This is God’s dream for Haiti. We need to be part of the picture.
Note: I am working on several posts sharing the activities of our trip and my experiences last week. If you have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask in the comments or via the email link on the about page.
