haiti...wrap up

I know there is no way to remember everything that happened the last three days I was in Haiti. I was not pulling bodies from the rubble, no child's life depended upon my years of schooling and skilled hands. There was no M4 slung across my chest, right index finger at the ready. I wasn’t piloting a C130 bringing much needed relief, but God gave me the opportunity to do just a little to help bring change to the people of Haiti.

I scheduled flights. I suppose in the seven days that I was in Haiti I helped run the equivalent of a small, international airline, three to five flights a day out of a three-ring binder and a laptop computer. I ate one meal a day and whatever granola bar or power bar I could get my hands on. I had to deal with ten to twenty people simultaneously vying for my attention while keeping track of forty to forty-five passports, a few green cards and entering all the info into a manifest; all of which I knew nothing about before I got there. I can look at a visa and within seconds know if it is valid or expired and know reasonably sure of any counterfeiting. I have had people yelling at me, praising me, hugging, kiss me and yes, I thought some wanted to hit me and probably would have if a large helicopter pilot by the name of Brian Parker hadn't become my bodyguard one day.

Lest I give a false impression, let me tell you how I did it. I am not organized, I don’t have that type A personality for leadership, but I felt God's strength when I needed it most. Beyond that I had the most amazing group of guys that praised me when I felt I was doing it all wrong, helped pick me up when I would rather just have gone to my tent and did any errand they could for me even though they had plenty to do themselves. So, to the guys from MAF: Dirk, Tim, Will, Mark, Mike, Gregory, Fanes, Rick, John, Todd, Brian, Scott and Mike Labady from Agape and Roland Lussier, you have my deep gratitude and respect.

My world was an airport full of soldiers, helicopters, C17, C130 and every other type of military transport plane. I met famous people and rubbed shoulders with the greatest people the Nascar circuit has ever had. I rode jumpseat with pilots Ivan and Mike of Joe Gibbs racing, always had a friendly smile from Jackie, Stormy, Ken, and so many other names I can't even remember now from the Hendricks and Joe Gibbs teams. God has blessed me beyond measure and yet, even though I am grateful for being able to help and for all of these "extras" that God threw my way, there is one thing I can't get out of my head.

I was in an airport in a nice Coleman tent with an air mattress. The people outside the heavily guarded fences were in tent cities and on streets. If you drive through Port-au-Prince at night you'll see the people getting ready for bed. They block off one lane of traffic and in that lane they begin to spread their blankets. The children roll restlessly as they fight sleep laying on a single blanket on the asphalt. I don't even know if they've eaten. My stress and one MRE meal a day seem pretty good juxtaposed next to the hopelessness that stares those children full in the face.

We in the west in our comfortable arm chairs, designer coffee shops and flat screen TV's cannot comprehend it. I was there and I still can't. I do know this. Don't be like the media and be so quick to judge people like the ten that were arrested at the Dominican Republican border. I stared at a lot of paperwork this past week and I had to tell a lot of desperate parents that under the circumstances they couldn't get their child, the one sleeping in the street, out of Haiti. The Haitian's don't know the procedures, UNICEF is a mess and no one knows what is happening. The Embassy has closed ears and all of Haiti is in shambles. Next time the media says a church group or someone else was "child trafficking" don't be so quick to believe it. There are a lot of good people there and if you saw the hurting, you just might have tried the same thing. I don’t condone any law breaking, but if you had met Rob, you might understand the despondency of some of these parents.

Rob hung out with us for several days. He was from Colorado, his wife was in a rundown hotel in Ft. Lauderdale while he walked around Port-au-Prince, trying desperately to get his son and return to safety. He and his wife have known loved, visited, spent thousands and thousands no doubt trying to get their son adopted in Haiti. They have been victim to a corrupt government and greedy officials who see wealth and exploit helpless children, leaving their lives in limbo in order to get money from people (many who cannot have their own children) who long to show that child love. Rob was so discouraged. It hurt my heart to see him. The last time I saw Rob he said he was taking his boy back to the orphanage and he would have to return home the next day. The government and UNICEF had shut down all adoptions, even though they’d been in the process for years. I never saw Rob again. I hope he didn’t try anything desperate like those ten at the Dominican Republic border, but after looking in his eyes and hearing his story, watching him lay back on a tractor tire and just stare at the stars without the will to do anything, I can’ t say I would blame him.

I hope none of us in the coming months and years will forget Haiti. Like the AIDS crisis in Africa, Haiti is fast becoming a "sexy" issue that everyone jumps on because it makes them feel good about themselves and their compassion. It's easy to go to a concert, buy and album on Itunes or wear a trendy t-shirt...getting your hands dirty is another thing. My hat and prayers go off to all the missionaries, orphanage workers, doctors, soldiers, helicopter pilots and many, many others that are in Haiti right now. The flip side is this, if you have bought an album or a t-shirt in true compassion, than you’ve done your best. Not everyone can go down there and certainly not everyone should.

Sorry this is a bit disjointed. Some experiences you cannot pull into words and some images won't fit within the frame of a paragraph. Thanks for everything you are doing for the Haitian people. One thing to leave you with that Mark Williams, the program director for MAF in Haiti, a man who has lived over twenty years there said; no matter what we do, if we do it without Christ’s love, we are clanging brass and tinkling cymbal.