Work-for-Wages Brings Purpose to a Local Gang

The natural disasters and chronic poverty that have crippled Haiti for decades have caused this little island nation to be considered one of the poorest countries in the Western Hemisphere. The hardships have been worsened in recent years by devastating drought and serious political unrest. Inflation, closing of businesses, and soaring food prices leave many Haitians struggling to do more than merely survive.   One way CAM is bringing hope to some of these struggling people is by organizing Work-for-Wages projects, helping to meet their needs without creating dependency. Some of these projects are fixing roads, clearing canals, or digging water lines. Haitians become enabled to feed their families while also benefiting the community.

We have national employees who are out researching these projects, but sometimes Barry needs to go along to analyze prospective larger projects. One of these trips included a boat trip to the island of La Gonaive, where he hadn’t been for quite sometime.  Barry, Frantz (our prior translator who is now on the CAM team), and Makendy,  headed out before the sun was up to meet a small private boat and driver to take them to the island. It was a typical scorching hot, sunny day, magnified by the reflection off the water. The boat was merely a small fiberglass fishing boat, equipped with only a motor to move it across the water. There was nothing to sit on except the bottom of the boat as it bounced and bumped over the ocean waves. When too much water came in the boat, the other option was the narrow rim that wasn’t nearly big enough to actually sit on.  It was relieving to finally reach the island, where the next phase of the journey was a motorcycle ride over the nearly non-existent roads around the island. The project here will be to put latrines and hand-dug wells in several locations. When the motorcycle tour ended back at the shore, they bumped and bounced back to the main island. The ride had been so rough that Barry was terribly sore, bruised, and burnt bright red when he made it back to the base that evening. 

With all the political uncertainty in Haiti, gangs have taken over. Gangs fighting each other breaks the calm nights with rapid gun fire. The CAM base in Titanyan, Haiti has been targeted by the local gang. Demanding money and food they vandalize CAM vehicles and threaten with severity. After seeking God in the matter, Barry began working with the gang trying to resolve the ugly situation. After much dialogue, they agreed to lay down their gang mentality and try to find a way to help out the community, instead of terrorizing it. Soon they agreed to work on rebuilding a road that goes through town. The dirt road is a muddy river every time it rains, and continues to wash out. After working together, they came up with a plan. With our oversight, the gang began working, and with great vigor! They finished the first 20 meters In two days, 

surprising everyone! The men frequently stop in to check on the work and talk to the laborers, and their attitude has changed 180 degrees. They often ask questions about God, and say they would like Barry to hold a seminar for them to teach them about God. Phil asked them if they knew how to get to heaven.  A simple “no,” was their reply, but you could have heard a pin drop as they waited for the answer. The work for wages program has given these gang members something productive to do; something to live for.  The door has been opened!

Your continual prayers are certainly appreciated as we try to balance the many tasks to be done, including monitoring and making progress at SHM in Arcahaie. Barry is also teaching a few classes during the pastor training seminar, or BDC, which began this week.  Thanks for checking in! 

Back to Haiti!

So much has transpired since our last update, its hard to even know where to begin with this long-overdue post. For anyone who may be unaware of what happened after we finally managed to land in the US last September, perhaps a brief summary of the past year is fitting. 

The initial plan in flying home was to stay for a month-long furlough, but with the disastrous situation in Haiti, our toddler’s terrible health, and a high risk pregnancy, the mission board concurred that it would be in our best interest to remain in the US for an extended time, probably until the baby was born.  

During this extended home-time, the opportunity arose to help with another mission that was in need of a new director.  After much prayer and the board’s approval, it was decided that we would return to Haiti to live at this other mission compound, while still wrapping up some things at Shepherd Heart Ministries.                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Those months flew by as little Andrew started putting on weight, learned to crawl, then walk, and our healthy baby girl arrived without issue.  Little Elizabeth did, however, arrive during the beginning weeks of the global pandemic; the worldwide shutdown caused by the infamous coronavirus. Under normal circumstances, her passport would have been completed and shipped within six weeks or less, so we had penciled in plans to leave in early May. Since everything was shut down, including the passport offices, her passport didn’t come until late July.  In early August, we finally set foot on a plane, wearing our mandatory face coverings.  It was relieving to finally land in Haiti and get to work learning the ropes of our new jobs. 

We only had about a week of overlap with the prior director, so he had to learn quickly, but for the past several weeks Barry has been doing the best he can in trying to straighten things out after a long absence of administration (The last director was home in the states the whole time we were, due to the unrest).   Sadly, things have been veering a bit off course for a long time, and the correction hasn’t been without some squealing tires.  There are Haitian employees who have been here a long time, some upwards of 30 years, so reminding them to do things as simple as clocking in and out have been just one of the many little things being corrected that have slipped through the cracks over the years.   Pray that he can continue bringing things back to original policy without stirring too much backlash from the employees. 

There are many, many, needs in this country, as we already knew, but sitting behind the desk for a large organization causes one to come face to face with dozens of them every day.   Discernment is needed in every situation, as they often seem so similar, nearly everyone having almost the same story. Many have legitimate needs, while others see a potential opportunity for personal gain.    

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Meanwhile, work has resumed on the orphanage in Arcahaie.  The walls are being plastered upstairs, both inside and outside, and most of the electrical work is done.  It’s exciting to see it nearing completion after sitting so long with no progress!  The church building that sits in front of the orphanage is still a frequent meeting place for the little group of believers, and even was through the pandemic that kept many church doors locked tight.  After being gone for so many months, walking back through the big metal doors for a Sunday morning service was as though we were never gone at all. They all seemed encouraged, stable, and even sat mostly in the same seats they did a year ago. There were some missing though, since Fre Toujou has become too frail in his old age to make it to church very often, and his wife Jezila passed away during the time we were gone.   Over the course of the year, there were also a few people that were baptized, so the membership has grown.  Pastor Bazalet has been a good leader.  What a blessing to see them do so well! 

The children’s home at Shepherd Heart Ministries is getting closer to completion. 

Sunday morning we left early for the church service in Arcahaie. We enjoyed the time of singing from our Haitian song books, then Millard Yoder shared an opening message. Millard and his family, as well as the other two brothers from CAM, all came along for church. After Millard’s opening, Barry then had the main message relaying the severity of sin. 

When the service was over and we were done chatting the with the church folks, we stopped at a little roadside restaurant for some authentic Haitian corn meal and chicken.  Then it was time to set out for the next phase of the day’s adventure.  With the group condensed into two vehicles, we bounced and jumbled up the mountain roads for two hours before reaching our destination. It was an old fort, standing for centuries yet slowly showing signs of returning to the ground from whence it was erected. After a bit of exploring the damp old jail cell, the secret passage, and various other nooks and crannies, we found a shady spot, selected a few rocks for chairs, and had our evening Bible study inside the walls of the fort. By the time we were finished, we found ourselves inside a cloud that felt like a cool, pleasant fog that shaded out the intense sun.  A kind mountain man who had done his best to show us around the “big house” was happy to partake in the little snack we had brought along. Just as we were leaving, a tall white man, who by every appearance except his skin tone could have passed for a Haitian mountain man, stepped out from the wild shrubbery to say hello. He and his family have been in Haiti for over 20 years, with the last three being right there on that mountain. I was amazed and intrigued by their pioneer spirit to live in such an inaccessible place. 

Thanks for checking up on us! We are blessed by the prayers and encouragement that leave us feeling as though we’re not forgotten. 

Flying Home for Furlough

One thing that's difficult about being on the mission field long term is watching other missionaries leave to go home. Recently we said farewell to a family from CAM who have become our dear friends, as they frequently attended church with us and shared a meal  afterward.  Things are always changing, and its their turn to return home to the States and resume life there. They came for a final Sunday service. At the close of the service, Pastor Bazalet asked our friend to lead in prayer.   His voice faltered as he said good-bye to the church people and encouraged them to stay strong despite the difficulties they encounter living for Christ in Haiti.  It was an emotional moment for many of us, as tensions are already high with the current state of the country and challenges that come with it.

Despite the incessant protests consisting of roadblocks, rioting, and violence all over Haiti, our church was able to host a one-day seminar for pastors.  Twelve pastors came for a series of messages covering some common issues within the churches in Haiti. They had plenty of questions, and lively discussion followed each sermon as Barry gave responses.

Wednesday, September 25th,  it was our turn to say farewell to Arcahaie and the mission house.  Several months ago, we had purchased tickets to go home on furlough, planning to leave on Thursday. As political tensions mounted through the week and violence increased, we knew that we had to at least try to get to Port-au-Prince the day before our scheduled flight and check into a hotel very near the airport.  For days we heard one thing after another that was a potential obstacle to us getting on the plane.  Monday we heard that the damaged bridge just outside Cabaret had been finished off in the middle of the night by a band of thugs.  Crossing this bridge was the only way from the Northern part of Haiti into Port-au-Prince, and this was one more way to try to hold up the country. Through Monday and Tuesday, they were "allowing" people to cross through the river bed if they were willing and able to pay the "toll" they demanded.  Well, this should be interesting, we thought.

Tuesday morning we received word that the Port-au-Prince airport had caught fire and all international flights were canceled for the day. How long would this last?

 Wednesday morning Arcahaie was clear, and there was no way of knowing what the following morning would bring and if we'd be unable to make it to the airport.  Around lunchtime we loaded our bags and stroller into the back of the black Ford Ranger pickup, and Ramou and Ocean came along with us so they could drive the truck back home, supposing we made it there.

There was very little traffic in the smaller towns, but the presence of a few tap-taps and people waiting to take their produce to the market gave us some reassurance that things were fairly normal. As we approached the town of Cabaret we were anxious to see what we would find on the other side where the bridge had been damaged and then torn apart. We were more than relieved to see that someone had taken the initiative to fill in the gaping whole, one car width wide, so vehicles could at least take turns crossing the bridge. What a relief!

We fairly flew over the clear roads until we reached the outer parts of Port-au-Prince, and we could already see smoke clouds billowing all over the city.  The first road block was fairly simple to get through, and a little more than a dollar was sufficient toll for passage.   We turned toward the airport, and the normally bustling Route 9 was completely void of vehicles, except for a few motorcycles. We were finally stopped beside a police truck, packed full of armed officers who were beside a closed-down gas station (no gas to sell) talking to a group of people. They waved us down to say, "Don't go any further. We're not helping you."

However, a man on a motorcycle said he could get us through. By all appearances, he was one of the same gangsters who were participating in the rioting. Could he be trusted? After much discussion and contemplation, we decided to let him lead us, and soon there were a pair of them.  They sped ahead right up to the line of debris and flaming tires, where a masked thug with a pistol was the first one to meet us.  He was reluctant to let us through, but the men on motorcycles were able to communicate, with much shouting, that we were okay to go.   Our presence sent a ripple through the crowd of fired up, angry men,  but as the leaders helped to direct the situation, we were allowed to pass around this series of obstructions and burning tires.

The motorcycles then led us down an unpaved side road, I suspect bypassing another series of road blocks. Unfortunately, we couldn't dodge them all, and too soon we were approaching another barricade, heavily guarded by dozens of crazed young men. At the sight of the truck, they were even more angry, but our hosts again helped the situation a little. Many were angry but reluctantly resigned to what they were told.  From 30 yards away or so, I could see one young man pick up a large rock and launch it toward the truck. Thankfully, Barry saw it coming, too, and was able to back the truck up and avoid impact.    This young thug was not going to be told to calm down, and his American flag tank-top and matching bandana were charging toward us, unrestrained by the many others who tried to hold him back.  His dreadlocks bounced as he marched, hollering angrily as if deranged.  When he reached the truck, he heard something about children and looked into the backseat where I was holding a crying baby and three other little ones sat trembling and confused. His anger seemed to melt away and his countenance turned almost humane. There was still another, who didn’t appear to be more than 16 years old, that wouldn’t back down. He was restrained by his buddies in order for us to pass.

After inching our way through that mess, the ordeal was far from over.  Our escorts led us through a few more barricades without a lot of trauma, and when we reached a clearing, they said we were clear to make it the rest of the way to the airport. We were reluctant to believe them, but they insisted it was alright and boldly refused to go any further.

We soon found out why.

We made a few more turns and hit a the road that runs just on the outskirts of City Solei. Here we found more of the same rocks, burning tires, and debris, but didn’t see a whole lot of people. We rounded the turn toward the airport, and a masked man dressed fully in black stopped the truck, shouting the only words he knew in broken English. “Money, money money! I’m hungry!” In a matter of seconds, there were two, of them, then three, and more and more.  Countless big arms were coming in both front windows. Someone pulled a knife on Barry, but there were so many other arms in the way that he couldn’t do anything more than small scratch on Barry’s thumb.  We tried to keep going, but they were jumping on the back of the truck, piled on the hood, and hanging all over the truck.  One man lay on his back on the hood and wrenched his head back to look inside, and his eyes held an unnatural, frightening stare. The stench of drunkenness filled the air as the whiskey bottles came in the windows with their desperate arms. There were too many of them to even try to give them anything, but Ramou, in desperation, pulled out a small bill. The already flailing arms went even more wild. Barry veered the truck and tried again to speed up, but we hit a large rock that was unseen with all the bodies on the hood.  The men tried to cut the truck tires, but failed. I turned around to see Ocean in the back fighting them off of our luggage. The bag containing our clothes was as good as gone, but Ocean, a rather large man, was able to quickly grab it and pull in back in.  He was unable to save everything, but our stroller was a minor loss considering what could have been. What could they have done if I had stayed in the front seat with Andrew?

I don’t even know how we eventually got out of there, but we escaped without shots being fired after us.  I guess some were content enough with the loot they managed to get, and backed off to fight among themselves over it.  A few others pursued us on motorcycles, but once we reached the “safety zone” of the heavily guarded airport area, they turned back.  We were so glad when we pulled into the hotel quarter mile from the airport, and we would be able to fly out the next morning.

Although we were now safely at our destination, Ramou and Ocean still had to somehow get back home to Arcahaie. We told them they should stay and we’d get a room for them, but they were unconvinced.  They left the hotel with the intent to head a different route around Port-au-Prince, but to turn back if things looked too unsafe.  They made it all the way around the city, but once they reached the road block that had been our first one while coming and the easiest to get through, things took a frightening turn.  Rather than a few men who were content with a small amount of money, this time they found a machine gun in their faces. “This is the end for you,” they were told.  When Ramou offered to pay his way through like at worked so many times before, the man told him, “I don’t want your money. This is your last day.”  

They finally managed to escape by pulling out cash and holding it up, saying, “Here this is. Just take it and turn around as if we were never here.” By God’s mercy, it worked. The man turned around.  Coming back through the smaller towns this time, they found that things were heating up as the afternoon progressed. We were so thankful to hear when they made it all the way back home! The sacrifice those two men made in taking us to town that day is amazing to consider.  Another missionary used a Drone to count that there were 65 roadblocks on the stretch we passed through.

Through our projected month home on furlough, we’ll be keeping an eye on the escalating situation in Haiti, praying that each further step we take will be under the Lord’s direction. I could never begin to write all the details of what happened that day on our trip to the airport, or even truly put it in words that paint an accurate picture, but one thing we do know is that we were protected by a strength much greater than man.  We again thank our supportive church body for their enormous amount of prayers through our challenging travel time!

Special Meetings

     

 

The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance. 2 Peter 3:9

This verse is encouraging to remember as we consider the work that's being done here. There are SO MANY people in Haiti, and God wants all of them to be saved! Every one of the 11 million people packed onto this little island has a soul that God cares for.  

Interestingly, the small town of Williamson is one of the harshest places in Haiti. All sorts of crimes, including murders, robberies, and rape, are at an all time high. Its not somewhere you want to be walking around outside after dark. Despite its small size and the astounding wickedness lurking on every corner, it has 27 churches!   This fact gave the church brothers the idea that Williamson is in great need of a powerful, life-changing Gospel. They've now added the Williamson street market as a place to evangelize. Even Ramou, who, three years ago hid under the truck when some brothers from home started street preaching, this time put on the microphone and proclaimed the Gospel.

In addition to witnessing on the streets, Barry and Pastor Bazalet still have frequent meetings and Bible studies with several area churches.  There was a small church across the river, about a mile away in Barbancourt, that had a series of meetings the other week. Their speakers were so loud that we could hear the music and shouting from our house. Barry was asked to preach at these meetings. The party was among the wildest he's seen. It was such an "exciting" and lively music scene that even a young man who says he hates God couldn't help but stop to listen, start bobbing his head, and eventually go into all out dancing, jumping, and shouting with the rest of the church. The song leader really put on a show, gasping for breath as he flung himself all over the stage, sweating profusely. After the message, in which Barry pointed out the worldliness of tight, form-fitting clothes, this young man groaned into the microphone, "I have no problem with skinny pants, but I do have a problem with big clothes and bad hearts." So that's the mentality people run with. In order to avoid any possibility of hypocrisy, dress terribly, then you can act however you want.  There was no consideration that perhaps fixing the bad heart and keeping the modest clothes is a better option.

Closer to home, our own church had a week of special evening services. We skipped the party. There were no drums or guitars to draw the crowds. We were thankful for the help of a deacon from a nearby church lending his powerful voice to lead the singing, but without the wild dancing and music, we didn't draw the large crowds that are at other crusades.  There were visitors every night, and the preaching was a tremendous blessing! Brother John Lengacher from Ohio flew down on short noticed and preached half of the week's messages.  On the final evening, Barry felt led to give an invitation. There were a few young ladies in particular whom God was evidently pressing on their hearts. One of them, Roselyn, is a daughter of Rezanet, a recently baptized sister in the church. Roselyn is also the mother of little Dutchess, the little girl who has been in the care of Antonia.  For well over a year she refused to come near the church, choosing rather stay in her discontented life of sin. We were blessed to see her put on some modest clothes, cover her head, and listen intently to the sermons. God has been patiently pressing and urging her to repent. After that evening message, I asked her why she didn't choose to do so tonight. She shamefully hung her head and said, "next week." Unfortunately, after that night, she hasn't been attending services as regularly as she had begun to do.  I have faith that the Lord will still reach this young lady who seems to have a tender heart, but has never yielded it to his control.

This week Barry was in Ohio being fed at the ministers' meetings!  We were sad to part ways with him, but are glad he had the opportunity to go.  We're very thankful that Katie was able to fly down to be here while he's gone, and all the church ladies were very glad to see her as well. We are thankful for God's protection over our family here and that Barry arrived safely to the meetings.  He was encouraged to keep leading this little flock that's been started here!

Roselyn, Dutchess' mother

Sadly, the usual chaos of rioting and roadblocks is commencing again.  It seems as though the country is in worse shape than we've ever seen.  After a series of unavoidable circumstances caused Barry to miss his flight into Port-au-Prince on Monday, we soon heard that a man leaving the airport around the same time Barry would have been was shot and killed. He had hardly been off the plane. The other day, a group of gangsters stopped Barry on his way home from church while he had our three oldest children along and told him he'd better leave, or they'll kill him.  Two days ago we received a call from friends at CAM saying they were receiving threats that the entire compound would soon be burned to the ground.  The staff all decided to stay put and pray, asking for strength to handle the situation as Christ would have them to. The next morning, when the attacks were suspected to happen, a group of acquaintances from nearby Titanyen showed up to "protect" the compound, wielding bats and clubs. Whether from the presence of a group of people or the presence of angels encamped round about them, not a thing has happened at the CAM base.

Today, during a break in the rioting, Port-au-Prince was overflowing with people running about to do their business before things get bad again on Monday. It seems as though people are scared, fearing the worst this time.  Pray for grace to handle every situation as it comes!

Baptisms. Edition 2

 - Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death: that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life - Romans 6:4

What a blessing to say again that more souls have been added to the kingdom through baptism!  It was a special Sunday morning when seven people stood before the church body to testify of what God has done for them in saving their souls.  Two of the seven, Ramou and Helen, have already been baptized but shared their testimonies before committing to membership with the church.

Helen

Ramou

Those who were baptized spanned a range of ages. Rezanet, a widow and mother of six, was recently converted and has been a sweet blessing to the other sisters. She is the older sister of Antonia, who was baptized last year. Her six children range in age from 13 to mid 30s, and have all started coming to church now and then. One of them, a 19 year old son, McKenzi, was also just baptized at the same time. It is exciting to see this family making such changes and standing out in the community for the Lord, despite the struggles it brings!

Rezanet

Mckenzi

Another young convert, Wenalson, is the twin brother of Reynalson, the adopted sons of sister Antonia. He's a very quiet young man but seems to have a desire to do the will of the Lord!

Wenalson

Yolanda is a special friend of McKenzi. At first it seemed there was opposition from her dad as she desired to dress modestly and make significant changes with her life, but things were cleared up and she has taken a stand in the community. You wouldn't imagine how much pressure there is in a small village in Haiti to conform to a standard of dress that is more than displeasing to God. Despite her quiet nature, Yolanda has stepped out in faith and followed the commandment to deny worldly lusts and live soberly and godly in this present world.  She and McKenzi have plans to start a home of their own some day.

Yolanda

Semanna (meaning "is manna), or just Manna, is without a doubt our most energetic of the recently added members.  It seems there's nothing she's afraid to do to help out.  She used to pick up a bucket and jump in to help a group of men haul concrete, or grab a large hoe and go turn the dirt, just to show what she's made of. Now that determination is being used to care for Brother Toujou and his wife, the elderly couple who are in such great need. Cooking two meals a day for them on top of all their laundry and diaper changes is no small task, especially when she receives backlash from neighbors. She has the resilience to withstand the mocking and scoffing, such as, "will you change my diaper, too?"

Manna

Pray for the growing church down here! There are encouraging times, but also very challenging times for them as they do what it seems no one in Haiti does anymore. Pray that they can be strengthened to endure the new challenges they face each day, even the minor persecution they receive from family and old friends.

"Blessed are ye..."

For anyone familiar with the account of Lazarus in the book of Luke, it may be brought to rememberance at the sight of dear Madamn Toujou as she was found this past week. She hasn't been able to come to church for quite some time, but this past Sunday Fre Toujou was not there either. He was also at home sick, lying miserably on the floor of their tumbledown shack. For the first time any of us have seen, he was upset at his situation. He has nothing. No clothes, no food, and what he does get, gets stolen. While he was inside the house, his sick and crippled wife was lying behind the shack on a little pile of thin, dirty blankets. Her emaciated body was swarmed with flies, particulary drawn to the gaping, open sore that had been worn into her bottom by compression, as she spends her days sitting on her bare bottom on the dirt. Now with the painful sore, she could only lie on her side, outside probably in order to feel more of a breeze than whats available inside the windowless shack.

A members meeting was called immediately after the evening service, realizing that the help that we've been trying to offer isn't sufficient. They need to be out of the place they're in. They need immediate and frequent help. Reports say that their son, who lives in a much nicer house in the same yard, is the main instigator of their misery. The next day, they were cleaned up and taken to a mission, about an hour drive into the mountain, that was said to work with people with special needs. Upon arrival, Barry learned that they actually only work with children, and an elderly couple was outside of their realm. The next day was another try. This time Barry and three chuch members took them to a hospital in Arcahaie, where Madamn Toujou's sore was cleaned and treated. The doctor said he could see clear down to her bone as he was cleaning it. The other doctor, who was suppoed to look at Fre Toujou and see what could be done with his poorly controlled bladder, was unable to make it to the hospital due to a traffic problem. They are to be taken back in for treatment every two days.

Thankfully, a quick solution was also found for their housing problem. There are plans in the making to buy a small piece of land and put up simple housing for them and some other church members who are in need. For now, though, a young man that's been attending membership classes is allowing the use of his small, one room house. It needs a roof and a door, which are being finished this week. Two sisters from church have agreed to give their time to help with cooking and laundry. The day can hardly come soon enough to get this dear old couple out of their current environment and into a clean, dry house with some loving care.

"And He lifted up his eyes on his disciples, and said, Blessed be ye poor: for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are ye that hunger now: for ye shall be filled. Blessed are ye that weep now: for ye shall laugh."   Luke 6:20-21

Cleaned up and dressed to go to the hospital. We had to give Fre Toujou new clothes that same morning so he had something clean to wear.

* * * * * *

The request was typical at first. " I need some money. My baby is hungry. My girlfriend doesn't have enough milk and we need to buy formula." We could identify with the hungry baby problem. Our skinny little guy has really been in need of some extra nourishment, too, so it was an easy decision to offer financial help.

It wasn't many days later when the same young man came back, this time with more of a bold request. "Take my baby. We just can't take care of her. We heard you're starting an orphanage, and we need you to take our baby. She's hungry."

"I want you to bring the baby here. I'd like to see her," Barry requested.

It came as a surprise (should it have?) that the "hungry" baby was a chubby, well-fed roley poley, that could have easily been twice the weight of our own baby.

How quickly they would have handed their baby over to our care! Sadly, this is all too common. The objective in mind is to hand a child over to an orphanage or other place where they'll hopefully have a better education, be well cared for and out of the parents' hair, then grow up to make plenty of money to care for the very parents that handed them over in childhood

* * * * * * *
One of the topics of discussion in the last brothers' meetings was the need for evangelism. There, and in Bible studies, they've been urged to see the need for missionaries. Haitian missionaries to their own country.

They're catching that burden.

Last weekend, they went out on a limb and had their first street preaching experience. Barry drove Pastor Bazalet, Herode, Ramou, Renaldson, Belizer, and Jeraldson to their destination: right here in to town to the large Arcahaie open air market on a busy Saturday morning. This was big for them. This is where people would be who know them. After they had finished and were enjoying a meal together, one of them said, "Now is when the persecution begins."

"Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven..." Matthew 5:11-12

Some of the same young men, Herode, Renaldson, and Ramou, have also lined up preaching engagements in various mountain churches. What an encouragement to see some who are by nature quiet and reserved step up and declare the Gospel in front of a crowd!

Barry is still preaching at other churches also. Because of the time of day and trying to maintian a family schedule, I haven't been along for a while. However, he was asked recently to preach a series of evening meetings held outdoors at a church nearby, so we all went along. I had almost forgotten how other churches do it. I was shocked all over again my the miniskirts, the dancing, and the party atmostphere. When we were first pulling up, the music was blaring loudly enough to be heard clearly in the street. There was a young lady standing on the corner, as if waiting for a ride, dressed so attrociously and so heavily painted in make-up that it seemed evident she was going out to start a night of "work." While she waited, she was shaking her hips and singing along with the songs coming from the church's speakers.

The scene induced a fiery message about real verses false Christianity, and the fruits of such. As usual, there was an amen chorus from some, and eyerolling and laughter from others. It was such an encouragement when a whole group of our church brothers went along, and walked in erect and sober, a wonderul example amongst the environment that was not far removed from a night club.

Renaldson preaching at the market 

Jeraldson and Belizer witnessing one on one at the market

* * * * * *

We are pleased to also report that, after a prolonged period of pain and discomfort, Barry's abdomen is finally feeling almost normal, following his unexpected appendix surgery in the US.

In May, we scheduled a short, between-furloughs trip to Indiana in order to have some meetings with the board, and take care of a few things. We had wanted to fly out of Haiti on a Friday, but the tickets were just too expensive. We moved the tickets up to a broken-up Wednesday to Thursday overnight trip. We typically land in Detroit around midnight, then have a two-hour drive to the home we're staying in. With the broken up flight, we were able to land in Fort Wayne, very close to home, around three in the afternoon on Thursday. The flight and travel went very well, but when we got off the plane and were waiting for our luggage at the baggage claim, Barry started to feel sharp pain in his abdomen. It grew continually worse as evening came, and by 7:00 it was becoming unbarable. After poking around and finding where the pain was localized, we determined it was pretty likely appendicitis. We lifted him up in prayer, but God saw fit to show His hand in another way.

We took him to the emergency room of the nearest hospital, where they confirmed appendicitis with more poking and tests, including a CT scan. When the surgeron came in to discuss the operation with him, he said, "Wait, you just came from Haiti? Today? Wow, you sure are lucky to have came here when you did.

Was it luck?... "I'll give that some divine credit." He corrected.

After hours of preparation and waiting, Barry's appendix was removed, and he was released from the hospital around 6:30 that morning.

Later we heard stories of terrible failed appendectomy attempts in Haiti. We recalled the recent death of a young acquaintance from a burst appendix. It was easy to see God's hand in flying us all to the States when he did. Would men believe it if we had prayed and God healed his appendicitis right there on the couch? Maybe, maybe not.

When we're given a clear diagnosis, and we know he had appendicitis, what gives God more glory? The timing of the unexpected trip home was clearly and obviously steps that were ordered by the Lord. In this day, that's something people can believe!

After many phone calls and help from the Plain Church Group, the astounding bill of nearly $60,000 was reduced by over 90%, and our generous church back home took up a collection to cover the costs. It's very humbling to consider the outpouring of love behind such an experience.

* * *  

We can't say enough thanks for the prayers and support!

With love,

Barry and Julia in Haiti

Growing and Learning

Whap! Exilia’s towel smacked against the side of her leg again. The sound echoed from the benches behind her as all the ladies swatted at the pesky mosquitos that seemed to fill the air.  The cute little incense coils had now smoked their way to mere ash piles in their unnoticeable efforts to keep at least a few mosquitos away.  The air was still and muggy. The sweat ran.  Children squirmed.   Exilia looked at me and smiled as she swatted a mosquito away from Bethany’s ankles, a smile of understanding, as if to say, we’re glad we’re here anyway.  We sang and enjoyed the Sunday morning message in spite of the potential distractions.

The hot, muggy conditions have made it a perfect time for the little biters to breed and accompany us for every service, but the mosquito population isn’t the only thing growing.  As we began a new series of baptism/membership classes on Friday, we were more than happy to have two new converts among those in attendance.

Remember the story about the fireball lady out in front of the church gate who was selling beer out of her cooler with her coke, and refused to admit that it could be wrong, as well as living with her latest boyfriend? Well, she’s one of them. She says she got rid of her boyfriend, she’s done with that old life, and she’s gotten right with God.  A new demeanor of meekness seems to bear witness of this inward change.

The other one is a very quiet young man whose girlfriend has been coming on Sundays for quite some time. He also says he’s done with the things of the world and ready to be sold out to God.  He and his girlfriend are both in the baptism class.

* * *

Rain pounded on the metal roof while everyone sat quietly, unable to hear each other talk over the heavy sound.

We slipped into our seats, trying not to track too much mud across the floor.  We had been caught in the downpour while only halfway to church, and were glad to now be inside the dry building.  Ramou came in a few minutes behind us, looking like he was soaked to the bone.

While we sat and swatted mosquitos and waited for the rain to subside in order to start the service, I thought back to a year or so ago when a sudden rain shower had dumped buckets during a Sunday evening Bible study. That time, though, we were in the little stick church, without walls to keep the blowing rain out.  The service was almost over, but no one could leave during such a massive downpour. Before long,  the whole crowd of people were smashed tight onto half the benches, trying to get away from the water that blew through the palm leaves that were only good for making shade. After a short time of just listening to the rain on the roof, we decided to get our books back out and sing. And we sang! What a sound was lifted up to heaven while we all huddled together and sang our hearts out.

I smiled at the precious memory, but I was sure glad now for the sturdy block building we were in. I moved a little further from the window so the mist wouldn’t get baby Andrew wet.  Once the rain subsided, we carried on with another encouraging Bible study.

  * * *
“Abram, do you want to help me take this plate out to that man?” I asked. We were busy as usual, in the middle of a school day, and a little old man was out hoeing the garden in the sun. He had knocked on the gate that morning, hoe in hand, looking for work, so Barry set him to work on the weeds that were growing quickly with all the rain.  It was getting close to noon, and I hadn’t planned on making anything special for myself and the children for lunch, but I felt bad for this frail old man out working so hard. I didn’t have time for rice and beans, and I was anxious to get on with other things I had planned for the day, but I felt like I should feed him. Then I remembered last night’s spaghetti in the fridge. It was the perfect amount for a good size Haitian serving. I quickly heated it up, put the noodles on the plate, topped them neatly with the homemade sauce, and put a sweet muffin on the side for a little something extra. Abram was glad to help. The man was standing just out side the door waiting on his food and water. I opened the door so Abram could easily slip out and practice serving.  He didn’t make it far. Just as he was about to step out, the plate plummeted and it all went upside down. There sat the quick, yummy spaghetti, right where everyone steps with their pig barn shoes. The old man watched the whole thing.  Unsure of what to do, I stared for a moment, inwardly hoping he would say, “Aw that’s ok.” But he didn’t.

All he said was “He can’t carry it.” I apologized and said I’d have to make him more food.  “Yes.” He replied dryly.  Now there was no way out. He knew we intended to feed him, so my other plans would have to wait.  Another batch of spaghetti was the quickest thing on the menu.  Half an hour later I had another heaping plateful of spaghetti with homemade sauce, plenty of meat, and a coke with ice. This time I took it out myself and set it on the table, certain this little old guy would be so glad for a hot meal, especially since it was getting late. I sent one of the children to tell him we had food again. Without so much as a thank you or bowing his head to thank the Lord, he sat and started into his big plate of spaghetti. He only ate half of it.

* * * *
As news spread of another series of rioting and roadblocks, we knew we had to prepare a few things. The one major thing that we always need to have on hand is plenty of feed for the 100+ hogs that are on the little farm. It’s usually no problem to run to Port-au-Prince, load up the box truck, and come back. This time, there was a new challenge.

Heavy rainfall had caused significant damage to a bridge in Cabaret, right along Route National 1, the main stretch of blacktop. It was deemed impassable.  Taptaps that would normally run all the way to Port-au-Prince from Arcahaie were driving to the bridge, where people then unloaded, crossed to the other side, and got in another waiting vehicle on the other side.

Barry weighed his options. He would have to either drive far out of the way, through the mountains, which would be rather difficult in the box truck with all the weight and troublesome brakes. It could hardly be done. The other option was to call the feed place and see if they would have a truck available to meet him at the bridge.  Also a challenging option.

He decided to get in the box truck and head that way to see first hand what was going on with the bridge situation. He stopped at the bank first and withdrew money for several different uses. Any significant amount of Haitian Gouds creates a bit of a bulge in the pocket, and this time Barry had a bulge on each side.

When he stopped the box truck and got out to look at the bridge, there were two “helpful” young men right there to offer to show him where to go to get around.  They appeared to be heavily influenced by the American rap scene, and had the aura of genuine gangsters.  Or at least aspiring to be.  One of them stood shoulder to shoulder with him, nudging him toward a lane that Barry knew to be a dead end. They were adamant they wanted to show him the way across the river, but an inclination told Barry to decline their help and get back in the truck. They were persistent, and didn’t want to let him go.  He was finally able to get away by taking one of their phone number, with a promise to call when he was ready for their help.  

“Those men were going to rob you for sure,” a middle aged Haitian told him later that day as Barry recounted the incident.

It wasn’t long after that that we received word the bridge had been temporarily filled in and fixed enough use now, so Barry was able to zip to town, get the pig feed, and be safely back home in a half day. With fuel, pig feed, and rice on hand, we feel prepared to stay put for a while if the riots get bad again.

* * *

The rioting did, in fact, begin on Sunday.  “We can’t ask Anouce to risk his life to come today,” Barry told me at the breakfast table that morning. Titanyen, where Anouce lives, is 30 minutes away and often the heat of the battle lies between us and him.  He definitely shouldn’t come.

“You’ll just have to preach in Creole,” I told him with a smile. “You’ll do fine.”  He’s been transitioning into it for months anyway,  and Anouce is often just there for help with phrasing things he’s not sure about.  So it was that Barry preached his second message ever in Creole, and did fine. After asking the church what they thought,  they said they like it better without having a translator and hearing right from Barry, even if his Creole isn’t perfect. However, since there are Americans who come about every other Sunday who aren’t fluent with the language, they decided that using Anouce every other Sunday would be good for a while. The progress is exciting!

****

Here at the farm, where the mission house is, the animals are successfully reproducing and growing. We weren’t sure what to do with the rabbits that were almost too many to count, but we’ve now found a buyer.  Caribbean supermarket just bought a dozen of them butchered and ready to package, and said they’ll take all we can bring them.  The hogs now, are being taken to an American farmer who’s living in Haiti running a butcher shop.

After months of preparing the soil with manure, turning, hoeing, more manure, and more hoeing, we finally planted a little garden in the shade house that was put up in March. The soil is rich and loose. With all the rain in the evenings, we’re hoping it was the right time to see if we can grow some food!

Thanks for checking in with us again!  God hears your prayers and we are thankful for them!

Bondye beni ou!