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!

April 2019 Update

"If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, ye also ought to wash one another's feet."

On the evening before His death, Jesus washed the feet of His disciples, then instructed that His followers would continue this practice to help us remember. Christ gave us a great lesson in performing this simple but profound act. This past Sunday, we had the opportunity to remember as we had an evening foot-washing and communion service with the church members here in Hostin, Arcahaie, Haiti. It was a first-time experience for some of them. Barry and Pastor Bazalet did well in explaining the significance of what we were doing.

 

The evening didn't get started without a hitch, as can be expected when satan wants to interfere with anything that is for the benefit of the Kingdom. Because of all the pollution, corruption, and confusion that has been cultivated in Haiti's churches over the years, we announced that morning that the coming evening service would be only for members of the church body, those who are converted and walking pure and holy in the sight of God. However, there was no small stir when someone outside of these parameters wanted to participate. It was difficult to have to restate what had already been explained, and we nearly lost a committed member for her frustration when we asked this other person to not participate. Once it was re-explained that communion is for the body of Christ and only to be taken with a clean heart, she understood, came back inside, and repented, without her angry mother whom she had defended.

From then on, the service flowed beautifully and was a wonderful time of drawing nearer to the Lord as one body. It ended with lots of hugs and greetings. I think it spoke strongly to the hearts of this little church fellowship!

We had a full house once again for a week while a group from both Kentucky and Indiana came to Haiti to stay with us. They were able to build a shade house (similar to a greenhouse, but keeps things cooler rather than warmer), as well as construct new, more permanent benches for the church building. We were blessed by their help with these projects and the week of fellowship!

We've also had a few visiting preachers over the last few weeks, while fellow missionaries from different parts of Haiti come to visit on various weekends. In two weeks' time we had Melvin Kauffman, who was here with the group from Kentucky, Joshua Showalter, from Liberty, Kentucky, but was here working with another mission, and Robert Stauffer, author of Worth Remembering and the Pastor at CAM here in Haiti. It seemed the church appreciated the new faces and thoughts.

Joshua Showalter shared an opening message

Pastor Robert Stauffer

As far as Barry's preaching efforts, the Lord has led him to be placing more effort and time with several different mountain churches, as unrest continues down in the cities and villages. Crime is drastically on the rise. It seems almost daily we hear about someone getting robbed or shot. More and more gangs are rising up and anti-government groups are forming bands and militias. Some of declared their mission to be to kill the police chief of every district. The government has issued a "shoot to kill" method in helping the police attempt to maintain some control.   What a blessing to be in God's protecting hands!


We would like to thank everyone who contributed to the effort of getting the box truck and all of its contents sent down here.  Although the truck itself is still in the lot waiting on customs, most of the items have been unloaded and brought to the mission house. There was a lot of excitement when we plugged in the ringer washer and watched its washing power, as well as seeing all the other many useful items and food that came.

Many thanks to all who contributed, and thank you all for your prayers and support!

March Update

"I stand amazed in the presence of Jesus the Nazarene..." the group sang as the vehicle was maneuvered through the obstacle course of large tree branches, rocks, the remains of burned tires, and overturned vehicles. They were driving down Route National 1 on the way to the airport, and they were the only vehicle on the roads. Most missions had already evacuated their American staff...by helicopter. It wasn't an option for this group in order to make their flight that was scheduled for the following day, so they rose up early and left just as the sun was peeking out to make a run for it before the rioting began again.

It was a few days into another round of violent protests orchestrated by a rebel group that wants Haiti's president to leave his office. We were low on diesel fuel and propane, and a major fuel shortage was sweeping the country into disarray. As a family, we were preparing to buckle down and stay for the worst of it, feeling that running away and leaving the growing church family here would be a poor testimony of loving each other. However, for those that were just visiting, leaving was the best option. Several times along the dangerous trek, Steve, Nate, and Alex had to get out of the vehicle to move objects or wires that were obstructing the truck from passing through. More than once Barry had to ask for "help" in order for the rebels to let them pass. The way seemed to open up as the parting of the Red Sea, and eight people were delivered thankfully to the airport.

But then Barry had to drive back home. By now more of the gangsters were rising from their late sleep and heading back out to the road, alcohol in hand. Its well known that they don't let just anyone through the roadblocks. Barry was able to talk to them again, many times, just saying, "Hey, can you help me? I need diesel?" (Which was true.) When they felt like he was in the suffering with them, they always let him pass. We were so thankful to see him arrive safely home that morning!

The riots continued for 10 straight days. For a country of people who live day to day, that was a real battle. No markets, no stores, no movement in Haiti, the rebels demanded. Just as Barry was emptying the last, long-stretched bag of pig feed to his nearly 100 pigs, they stopped the roadblocks and he was able to buy pig feed and diesel for the trucks and generator. We never had to haul canal water, the pigs all survived. Praise God!

Building Projects

Thankfully, work continued on the projects despite the potential challenges. In February the trusses for the church were built on-site, and within a few days the roof was on and finished. A few weeks later, when the final finish was completed on the floor, the benches were moved out of the little stick church and into the new, sturdy, block church house. What a change from the palm leaf walls!

Progress also continues on the orphanage, which has its second floor taking shape and should be ready for the roof before long. Pastor Bazalet's house is very near completion.

A full Sunday morning in the new building

Below: Barry, Nate, Steve, and Piker working on the new roof

The orphanage, nearly ready for the second-floor roof

The Church Body
After another series of discipleship classes, two new members were added to the body. Belizer (Bel-EE-zay) is a mid-50s father with nearly grown children. His wife comes on Sunday mornings, but he's trying to get her more involved and on the same page with the vision for the church and his family. The other member is Exilia, a widow of about 70, who comes by herself (or occasionally with her young grandson) across the river from Barbancourt. Both new members have already been 

baptized in the faith. They're both a blessing to the congregation!

The church family has grown in another way, in a sense, by the addition of a three-year old girl to Antonia's household. Dutchess is Antonia's great niece, but for the past several months she has been bringing her along to church, both Sundays and evening Bible studies. Just recently, however, Antonia informed us that Dutchess' mother had turned her care over to Antonia. As the third of four children each with a different father, her young, wayward mother readily handed her over. Now Dutchess will grow up calling Antonia "Mama" while her real mother is just around the small block. As grievous as it is to imagine how a mother could give up her child, we can see that her future looks much brighter in Antonia's care.

On various Sundays, we've been blessed with visitors coming from different parts of Haiti. We've had missionaries from CAM as well as a family from up north come to visit and spend the day in fellowship. All of them in addition to our visitors from the church back home, we've had every bench full on Sundays!

Other Activities

With all the visitors we've had since January, we were also able to have help with different projects. Some of those included putting meat in the freezer. Denny's family helped us butcher a couple dozen chickens, and when Steve and Nate were here, their families helped us get a good load of bullk sausage put up. With the price and sanitation risks that come with purchasing meat here, and the inconvenience of trying to bring it down from the States, this is a tremendous blessing!

There are still Bible studies at different mountain churches every week, as well as five meetings every week at our church here in Hostin. Ministering to the church body, caring for the little farm, and raising a young family keeps us plenty busy!

Antonia ready to butcher a pig. She bought it during the roadblocks, then walked around the neighborhood with a wheelbarrow piecing it out and selling it.

C

Checking over the completed task of adding some shade to the back porch where groups sit to eat.

Two little goats came home one day nearly dead, because their mother, Renaldson's goat, wouldn't let them nurse. There was a lot of effort put forth to save them, but they didn't make it.

"What's the best way to go about this?"

We are thankful for the support, as well as the help we had with all the different projects that visiting families helped us with! We appreciate continued prayer as we endeavor to continue this mission!