I get asked this question a lot, and it’s usually followed by a side-eyed glance from someone who knows me personally - someone who knows what a girly-girl I am, how much I like carrying designer purses and equally how much I hate to sweat. For a while, I tried to explain that I didn't really know “why Haiti,” and I felt as though I needed to justify going; to tell the long story of how I knew for years before my first trip that I would someday go on a mission trip to serve Jesus, but I always thought it would be somewhere tropical, remote and beautiful. That’s where I had envisioned, at least - maybe somewhere in crystal clear waters where we could sit on the white sand at night and sing songs and talk about our most successful, full on Jesus-saving days.

But God. He always has a plan. His plan for me was Haiti in 2017, years after I thought I was ready. Actually, I was growing frustrated because I had been praying for so long about going somewhere on a mission trip and doors just never seemed to open for me. At some point I realized that perhaps I wasn’t ready to go, after all. So, I begin to pray and seek HIS WILL, instead of my own selfish one. I began to ask Him what HIS plans were for me, and asking Him to show me. Begging, almost, with tears, telling Him if I wasn't ready, I wanted to be - but I honestly thought I was. Service for the Kingdom isn’t an easy thing, I would find out. It takes full submission, and that comes in many shapes, sizes and forms. My prayer life changed, my heart changed, and physically I changed, too (which, looking back on it, there’s no way I could have tromped through the heat and up tiny goat trails in Haiti had I not lost quite a bit of weight!).

One day in September, 2016, I got an email from Harvest Field Ministries out of Knoxville, Tennessee, asking for volunteers to serve on their upcoming medical teams. I replied, really on a whim (I had given up hope of ever going - and Haiti was NOT on my ‘mission trip bucket list!’), and waited half-heartedly for a response. Almost immediately, I got one that said, “WHEN CAN YOU GO? OCTOBER? JANUARY?” Uhm…nope. I laughed out loud, knowing that this girl didn’t even have a passport yet! And…what about that whole money thing? I got a few questions….slow down! So, another email followed with a kind declination. How about mid to late 2017? Maybe I could do some photography before then and save up enough to go. Since this was something I wanted, I felt like I needed to be prepared to pay for it. (Again, still, I doubted God and His. never-changing Word!) How much would it cost, again? And where do I even GO to get a passport? Wait…WHERE EXACTLY IS HAITI AT ANYWAY? Do I even NEED a passport? I had no clue.

I began to seriously look at my spiritual self. I had been so selfish in my prayers over the years praying for the opportunity to go on a mission trip. It was so much about me at this point, that by the time I realized my prayers were not aligning with HIS WILL, I was totally disgusted with myself. I broke down and cried for days. Nearing the end of September, I had not heard a response from Harvest Field since I said I couldn’t go on THEIR schedule. Oh well, another closed door. “I’m over it, Lord,” I said, and just forgot about it. Why was I even TRYING to make a difference? I just gave up again. This must not be His will for me after all. A couple of days later, I was scrolling through Facebook, when something caught my eye. It was a picture of a torn, tattered, wind-blown, devastated, Haiti. It looked worse than any war-torn country photograph I had ever seen. Children crying. The dead piled on top of themselves on the side of the streets. Smoke, dirt. Reminiscent of the images of 9/11, but somehow…different. Immediately I felt God’s presence, and immediately I knew that one day, I would be going there. “But,” (here I go again…there are no “but’s” with God!), “I don’t want to go there now, Lord. Look at that mess! Besides, they never even emailed me back! I’m not going. Send me somewhere else. You KNOW God, I’m really trying to be ready - just use me! I’m here…so use me! But, can you kinda, sorta do it on my terms?” More tears. Guilt, frustration. “No,” I heard back.

“No.”

I am a visual person. I stared at this photo for a few minutes. Tears began to stream down my face as I clicked on the article and read the story from CNN about how Hurricane Matthew was battering down across the island that borders the Dominican Republic. I cried as the tears turned more ferocious and angry. I kept clicking on more and more photos, and reading more and more stories. I didn't see anything good, I didn’t read anything positive. Hundreds of people were dead, and by the time it was over, days later, hundreds of thousands would lose their lives, innumerable children would be left without families and the already poverty-stricken land would only get worse. I was so heart-broken. I can honestly tell you, I’ve never felt a pain like I felt at that exact moment. Was this the way Jesus felt when He gave His life up for people He was yet to know and have a relationship with? Did His heart hurt like this? The pain I felt in my soul was so heavy, dark, debilitating. For days, I watched the news, clicked on more articles and looked at more pictures. And, I waited. I waited for an email that wouldn’t come until 6-7 weeks later from the medical director who told me that she had went to Haiti immediately following the hurricane. She had only been gone a few days, but in Les Anglais, the village where they served on the southwest coast, was where the eye of Hurricane Matthew landed. Everything was destroyed. Over 8,000 free-standing buildings pre-Matthew now amounted to around 100. Lives were lost, homes were destroyed and people were suffering. Hunger and disease was everywhere. She told me that she was sorry for not responding to me sooner, but it had really taken a toll on her and that, emotionally, she just couldn’t reach out. I would later learn first hand how much truth was in her words.

Later, we decided that July, 2017, would be a good target date for my first trip. As anticipation rose, I could see how miraculously God handled every little detail, from aligning flights where I wouldn’t be alone my first time out of the USA, to providing exactly enough financial support to allow me to go on this trip. His provision and love gave me the desires of my heart, and that was the first of many trips to Les Anglais I would have the opportunity and blessed experience to go on. God showed me His faithfulness in full, and all I needed to do was ask and also be faithful, believing that HIS TIME is/was perfect…and not my own.

Now, when people ask me, “Why Haiti?” I don’t feel the need to TRY to explain it.

I have two answers, though. The first one is, “Why not Haiti? If I don't go, will you?” and the second one is simply this: “I still don’t know. But I do know that God sent me there for a reason. If that’s not a good-enough-answer for you, you will have to ask Him yourself, because He’s still showing me, too.”

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