Love the Master, not the ministry

Eleven years ago, we started out on this grand adventure, not realizing the full cost of discipleship.

As I look back on the mountaintops and the valleys, I am reminded of this truth: Love the Master, not the ministry.

People will come and go. He remains. A thousand times I have wanted to give up, but every single time my Father has reminded me that He alone is faithful and true.

Some days this journey feels like a hard-fought hallelujah, but I am so thankful to be able to say: we're still standing, by God's grace.

I mistakenly went to Haiti believing I could help the poor and needy, but what God revealed to me was that I was the destitute one.

How gracious He has been every step of this journey.

The days are long

It was my great joy to speak at Eglise Evangélique de la Grâce de Caradeux last night on the topic of creating an environment that encourages cognitive development in children.

One of the things I shared with those gathered was that in parenting, “The days are long, but the years are short.”

I feel this truth greatly as I look at Handy and Davensky who are suddenly more like men than boys.

Happy Birthday, Frè Steeve!

In the spring of 2012, the Father allowed my path to cross with that of Steeve Derard, and we have never been the same.

When I met Steeve he was a few months shy of his 31st birthday, still single, still quite unsure of where life would take him. Today we are partners in a ministry we’re both exceptionally proud with which to be associated.

How thankful I am for a friendship that has endured year after year. How thankful I am for the opportunity to learn and grow together as we watch Him do exceeding abundantly above all that we have ever asked or imagined.

Happy birthday to you, my friend! May the Lord bless you today and always.

From 2013 to today

Today I came across these photos from the first week of June 2013. I remember how happy I was to be in Haiti. I remember crying at the airport on the day of departure, not sure if I could force myself to leave, being one of the last to board the plane. I remember the sense of hope we all had that week, the belief we had that the days ahead would be good ones and that we could make a difference.

We had no idea that within a year, all that we thought we knew would change. That we would no longer be part of the organization where we thought we were rooted. That we would embark on a grand adventure. That God would call us into deep waters that often felt too dark and tumultuous to navigate.

During that precious week, we were not thinking about dark nights, unexpected betrayals, hard decisions, and sad goodbyes. No. We believed the possibilities were endless. And I personally thought love was enough. I was so naive.

I now know that life is not as simple as I once believed it to be. I now know that love often requires more than I feel I can give. I now know that sometimes silence is the only way to hold one’s dignity. I now know that no matter how hard a day might be, tomorrow will come. I now know to do my best with the knowledge I have at a given time and pray that grace covers the rest. I now know there are so many things I thought that I deserved that don’t even matter when laid on the altar.

And I now know - without any doubt in my mind - that I am rooted and grounded to a place that has completely broken my heart and yet perfectly healed my soul.

And so tonight I am listening to this song on repeat, grateful to the Father for allowing me to learn and grow beyond the girl I used to be.

“Dear Me
This is a letter to the girl I used to be
You’ll see, you’re gonna take the long way
And there is nothing you could do or say to separate you
From the love of God who made you just exactly as He meant to
And you cannot imagine all the places you’ll see Jesus
But you’ll find Him everywhere you thought He wasn’t supposed to go.”

— Nichole Nordeman

You are more than able

Steeve and the boys went out for lunch together after church today and sent me photos and a video. My eyes are a bit teary as I continue to look at these photos of some of the people who mean so much to me, and my mind is playing the lyrics of two songs we sang at The Bridge today.

When did I start to forget
All of the great things You did?
When did I throw away faith for the impossible?
How did I start to believe
You weren't sufficient for me?
Why do I talk myself out of seeing miracles?

You are more than able
You are more than able
You are more than able,
(We've seen it) You are more than able
Who am I to deny what the Lord can do?
It's easy for You

You turn mourning to dancing
You give beauty for ashes
You turn shame into glory
You're the only one who can

You turn graves into gardens
You turn bones into armies
You turn seas into highways
You're the only one who can

The road ahead is filled with so much uncertainty, but each time a moment like this transpires, my faith is renewed and it’s easy to believe that the Lord Who has carried us all since that first meeting in 2013 will continue to provide all that is needed in the days ahead.

The April Trip to Port-au-Prince and Cap-Haïtien

This trip to Haiti started on Monday, April 14. I left my house a little before noon, headed to Florida where I would overnight before boarding the flight to Cap-Haïtien on Tuesday. When I stepped off the plane in Cap, Zacharie just happened to be there for another reason, so we had a few moments together. It was the perfect start to what would turn out to be a perfect nine days in Haiti.

I did not exit the Cap-Haïtien airport, instead choosing to stay in the customs area while waiting for the next flight. Lorvens and Idelmy were coming to Port-au-Prince with me, and airport staff were incredibly kind in allowing them to come in and wait with me for what would turn out to be four hours.

And then we were off to Port-au-Prince. Being able to share Idelmy and Lorvens’ first plane ride with them was special.

We arrived at the Guy Malary airport in the late afternoon. Guy Malary was quiet, a sad reminder of how many people have lost their jobs in recent months.

The rest of Tuesday included dinner and a competitive game of Monopoly.

Wednesday morning was for meetings and working on MMJ with Hudson. Wednesday afternoon we had the opportunity for an in-home visit with one of our CCS children. And, of course, the day ended with more Monopoly.

The days went by so quickly. Thursday was all about The Jesus Film. It was also the first day I was able to go to Tabarre 14 in quite some time. Being there brought both sorrow and joy as I was present in the moment, yet recognizing all that had been lost in the community.

Friday was a day full of fun and surprises. We spent the morning and early afternoon preparing for Caleb’s 10th birthday party, as well as visiting seven of the boys we are closest to at CERMICOL. Steeve treated us all to lunch at the Montana Hotel, a sweet, generous gesture I will not forget.

It’s hard to believe Caleb is 10 years old. Steeve told me about Manoucheka’s pregnancy before we founded Haiti Awake. I remember feeling the weight of that when we did go all-in on starting our organization.

I realized we weren’t making a commitment for today. We were making a commitment to the next generation. Caleb is so very special to me. I’ve been in Haiti for many of his birthdays. And this trip was planned so that I could be at his party, celebrating this milestone. To say I love him is an understatement.

The CCS Easter party was Saturday. And what a celebration it was! The staff at Haiti Awake went above and beyond in planning, and I was so proud of them all, so thankful to be able to see firsthand the execution of a well-thought-out plan.

We have a number of donors who monthly give to “where needed most.” You are the reason special events like this can take place.

After the party, we had a short staff meeting where I was able to speak words of life from my heart over the amazing men and women who lead our ministry day by day. This group. I stand in awe of them. It is my great honor to call them friends.

And then it was Sunday, Resurrection Day. I woke up singing the lyrics:

“Every demon shakes
As we shout Your praise
All the stones have rolled away
You have robbed the grave
So we celebrate
Your eternal victory”

— Jubilee Worship

What a special celebration it was as we did dance on that empty grave, and all of the big boys except Cesnel were able to come home to celebrate with us. My heart was full.

I wept as they walked away from us in the street at Fleuriot. Though I had released them each to the Father’s care in days past, the pain was real on Sunday as I knew the life they were going back to. My heart is with them day-by-day, and I can hardly wait until the day we are fas-a-fas again.

Monday came with the realization that my time in Port-au-Prince was nearly over. I had joked with friends before coming, “I appreciate your prayers that I will make it, but I think I more appreciate your prayers that I will get out.” Monday the tension was real as I wanted to enjoy every second and yet was anxious to leave.

Steeve and I had an amazing meeting with the leader of another well-known ministry in the morning, and after that I was able to meet with an American friend who still resides in Haiti. I’m not sure which of us was more encouraged by our visit. The boys also returned to school on Monday, after their Easter break.

And then it was Tuesday. My last full day in Port-au-Prince. We decided it would not be wise to go to Tabarre 14 because the risk of getting “stuck” was real. So we stayed close to home. We had a senior-level staff meeting, and we took the boys to a local restaurant to celebrate Idelmy’s upcoming birthday.

Wednesday morning around 7 a.m. I started my journey home. It was hard saying goodbye to everyone, but we really believe it is a “see you later” versus a “goodbye.”

We met our pilot at Guy Malary Airport again, and by 9:15 a.m. we were in Cap-Haïtien. My friend, Darren, met me at the CAP airport, and we had a wonderful time together at Sans Souci. I am so thankful for his friendship.

One of the last things that happened on Thursday morning before my flight out of Haiti was a prayer from my sweet little friend, Haven. She asked Jesus for something I really need, something I didn’t ask her to talk to Jesus about on my behalf.

I was reminded that children are incredible, and they know much more than we give them credit for. How thankful I am that this three-year-old encouraged me, and how thankful I am for my time with her sweet little family.

I arrived safely home Friday, April 25, about 2 p.m., after overnighting in Florida. The journey into and out of Port-au-Prince was incredibly long, but it was worth it for the moments described above. I’ve been thinking on this quote:

“Holy places are dark places. It is life and strength, not knowledge and words, that we get in them. Holy wisdom is not clear and thin like water, but thick and dark like blood.”

— C.S. Lewis

Ayiti, you have given me life and strength.

You can’t go home again

Thomas Wolfe famously noted: "You can't go home again."

I, however, disagree.

Yesterday for a few short hours, they were home. And it was glorious.

He had learned that he could not eat his cake and have it, too. - Thomas Wolfe

He had learned some of the things that every man must find out for himself, and he had found out about them as one has to find out--through error and through trial. Thomas Wolfe

Each thing he learned was so simple and obvious, once he grasped it, that he wondered why he had not always known it. Thomas Wolfe

He had learned that he could not devour the earth, that he must know and accept his limitations. Thomas Wolfe

He realized that much of his torment of the years past had been self-inflicted, and an inevitable part of growing up. Thomas Wolfe

And after yesterday, they each had assurance that they could always come back home again because no matter what might happen on the road ahead, each would always be deeply loved and accepted.

These precious days

As long as there is a path, my feet will find their way back to this place which feels like home.

Arriving in Port-au-Prince was a multi-step process that included the need to utilize our backup plan once our primary plan fell through. Nothing is easy these days, but we continue to see God provide what we need to keep moving the ministry forward.

Why travel to Haiti just two weeks after sending out a request like this?

Because of love. Because of these boys to whom I’ve made so many promises. Because my heart won’t allow me to walk away.

It’s a day to remember

Eleven years ago today, Steeve Derard received his first “yes” from the US Embassy in Port-au-Prince, and he was granted a US visas for the very first time. We rejoiced.

In 2019, he renewed that US visa simply by filling out a form and sending his passport in via DHL for the new stamp to be attached.

In 2024, we traveled to Jamaica to get his visa renewed, as this became the only option.

Through the years Steeve has traveled back and forth many times - so many times he’s lost count. He has always honored the stipulations of his visa, and he has not done anything he should not have done.

Yet today his ability to travel to the US going forward is in question, along with valid visa holders from a number of countries.

Today, as we have done so many times in recent years, we rejoice in what the Lord has done in the past and continue to hope for better days in the future.

Today that day came

For months Steeve’s walking shoes have been sitting on the back stairs that come up from the garage. They’ve been a constant reminder of the great divide between Port-au-Prince and Wilmington and a constant question of when (if?) Steeve would ever make it back to Wilmington to wear them.

Today that day came.

Glwa pou Bondye.

What if . . . ?

What if, instead of building ever-increasing church campuses (read “bigger barns”), we began making investments in the church that exists in underserved, under-resourced areas?

What if we helped them, came alongside them, and built their capacity, so they were given what they need to be change agents in their neighborhood?

What if we did all these things without taking over?

What if we did it out of love?

What if we believed that those who already have a primary stake in their community were more effective agents of change than outsiders coming in?

What if we believed that God was not calling us to do easy things, but difficult things that required His help?

What if we quit empire building and started Kingdom building?

What if we got a vision of little barns?

---Keith Stewart

And then there were two

This big house is so quiet. I remember the days - and nights! - of pure chaos, high energy, loud chatter, sibling-styled arguments.

We decided to keep this house, provided we have the finances, until Davensky and Handy leave our care in order to provide them with a level of stability given the fact that so much of their lives has been unstable.

Why did I come to Haiti this week? I came for a variety of reasons and for a variety of people, but these two are my most important “why.”

When they were little guys, I remember their voices calling, “Se Becky! Se Becky! Se Becky!” as they asked me to watch them jump rope, do a cartwheel, run in a circle, jump off the porch. In time, the vocal calls disappeared, but the desire for attention has remained the same. Playing soccer or basketball with the big boys, if they scored a goal or made a basket, they would immediately look my way, making sure I had seen the accomplishment. And today, as they are teenagers, it’s the subtle smiles that let me know they still desire to be seen, to be acknowledged, to know they are truly loved.

Connections of the heart

Nearly 12 years ago, God, in His providence, allowed my path to cross with a group of children who were living in an incredibly difficult situation. In the months and years that followed, we saw our Father do immeasurably more than we could have asked or imagined. We prayed for miracles, and we saw them come to pass time and time again. I can’t say we asked in faith “nothing wavering” because I know my faith wavered again and again. Yet God was always faithful.

This week it was as if everything had come full circle because for a few precious hours, I was able to spend time with Idelmy and Lorvens. The miles between us have been great for such a long time, but during that sacred time we shared, time and miles vanished. It was as if we had never been apart.

Sitting together on a borrowed porch in Cap Haitien, speaking as adults, hearing their stories, I was reminded of this verse:

“I could have no greater joy than to hear that my children are following the truth.”

— 3 John 1:4

They both have matured significantly in recent months, and I am so proud of the men they are becoming.

Haiti can be discouraging. Recent years have been difficult beyond words. There have been days I have regretted ever giving my heart to a place that has brought so much sorrow into my life. I can’t “unknow” what I know.

But God . . .

Tuesday reminded me why I have given my heart to this place that many have forsaken. It is these times that remind me that investing in one life is worth all the pain. It is these times when the joy I find in this place far outweighs the regret.

Many thanks to those of you who invested in the children’s lives for so many years. Although I have had the privilege of being in close physical proximity, without so many of you, this story would never have come to pass.

The story of Kay Timoun was particularly impacted by one man who met the children in 2015 and asked, “Why are they living like this?” and went home determined to make a difference. And that’s what he has done. He and his family have been making a difference these last 10 years - not just for Idelmy and Lorvens, but for all the children who have called Kay Timoun home.

Glwa pou Bondye.

Until we meet again!

It’s 2025

Per the usual, I woke up early this morning. I woke up to many messages like this:

Haitians love celebrating the new year. I love sleep. While many friends were texting at midnight last night, I was sleeping.

So this morning I went through and answered each message with my own “Happy New Year” message.

And one person wrote back just after 5 a.m.: Idelmy. Sweet Idelmy.

My first conversation of 2025 was life-giving, encouraging, a reminder of the goodness of God.

My conversation with Idelmy reminded me that loving Haiti is worth the struggle, that knowing Haiti is worth the sorrow, and investing in one Haitian can change everything.

Glwa pou Bondye.

Looking into the New Year

We’re in full planning mode for 2025 at Haiti Awake. I spent a good portion of today thinking through logistics, thinking about how we’ve had to adjust this year, wondering how we will have to adjust in 2025.

The one thing that has been consistent since this all started in July of 2018 is that we’re constantly adapting to something new.

”We can’t do that anymore? Okay, let’s do this instead.”

”Oh! That opportunity is available again? Let’s pursue it.”

“Wait! That door that opened three days ago has closed again. Let’s pivot.”

Over the years, I’ve emphasized to staff the importance of being proactive versus reactive, how necessary it is to plan instead of respond. And so we have contingency plans for our contingency plans which are contingency plans for other plans . . . and on and on it goes.

It’s easy to get overwhelmed, to be discouraged. But here’s the truth: We’re still standing, by God’s grace. We never would have believed in April we would be able to say that in December. But it’s true.

We do not know what the days ahead will bring. There are sure to be hard times beyond what we anticipate, and there is sure to be joy far greater than we could possibly imagine.

But we hope to share with you at the end of 2025 that we’re still standing, by God’s grace.

Don’t blink

Handy has gone from being this little guy . . .

To being this medium-sized guy . . .

To being this guy who is practically a grown up.

Happy 15th Birthday, Handy Oge.

May you always know just how loved you are.

What does this mean for the future of Haiti Awake?

I have to admit. I felt this was coming. But now that the announcement has been officially made, it does feel so final, so real, so heavy.

As I sat in Haiti at our 10th anniversary celebration in October, I felt as if I was holding a holy moment in time, a moment I would look back on with great nostalgia and longing. Little did we know that October trip would be my last trip to Haiti for the foreseeable future.

When Pastor Steeve came to the US for the month of June, little did we know that would be his last trip to the United States for the foreseeable future.

But God knew. In His infinite knowledge, He knew. Nothing catches God by surprise.

“Standing here
Not knowing how we’ll get through this test
But holding onto faith, You know best
Nothing can catch You by surprise
You got this figured out and You’re watching us now”

— Travis Greene

What does the absence of commercial air travel mean for the future of Haiti Awake? Very simply, it means we will need to adapt - again. We are adept at adapting as that has been the only way to keep the ministry moving forward in the chaos of the last 6.5 years.

All these years we have been saying, “These are hard days in Haiti.” And we so long for a better day, a day we cannot yet see. Though I have known the following verse most of my life, it now carries a completely different meaning.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.”

— Proverbs 13:12

Please continue to pray for the communities we serve in Haiti. While my heart is grieving from afar, this chaos and dysfunction is daily life for those I have come to love as family. It is hard to explain the great suffering that is taking place in close proximity to both of our facilities and the incredibly difficult issues the Haiti Awake staff faces on a personal level day-by-day.

I cannot emphasize enough how much a Google Meet would mean to staff and children. If you would give 30 minutes, it would be so encouraging.

“But to a friend, time is an investment of the heart, not just the hand. Friends spend time.”

— Sara Hagerty

With all of my heart I desire to return to Haiti as soon as the possibility presents itself. I long to give hugs, to have face-to-face conversations, to share a meal, to laugh together. Perhaps that day will come sooner than we expect. But until that day, we will continue to remember to remember - just like we did as we sat together for our anniversary celebration less than two months ago.

“Remember the way He led us up to the top of the highest mountain
Remember the way He carried us through the deepest dark
Remember His promises for every step on the road ahead
Look where we’ve been and where we’re going
And remember to remember.”

— Steven Curtis Chapman

Isn't It Lovely?

"May I please tell you about that piece of art?" I asked a lady who was browsing the Mission Made Jewelry table.

Before she could say anything, I continued. "My friend, Vladimir, made that. Isn't it lovely?"

The lady stopped and looked at me.

"Well, thank you. I was afraid you were about to tell me about poor people. I'm not interested in a pity story. Now I'm listening. Tell me more."

Do for the next 20 minutes, we talked about the beauty of Haitian products as she browsed the table, choosing 10 different items - including this one - as Christmas gifts for family and friends.

She took Vladimir's cards, one for each gift, because she wants her friends and family to know who made their gift.

"I'm glad I stopped by," she said as she walked away.

Ma'am, I'm glad, too. Thanks for letting you tell you about all of the good things to be found in Haiti. Thanks for focusing on that part of the narrative. 🇭🇹❤️

I choose responsibility

It is hard to believe that Steeve Derard wrote this five years ago and Haiti is no closer to resolution today than it was then. And yet, we have seen our Father do "exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think" in these difficult years (Ephesians 3:20).

Though it once again feels as if the country is standing on the edge of the precipice, "We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure" (Hebrews 6:19).

How thankful I am for these years of knowing and loving Haiti. Haiti Awake remains committed to our communities, and I personally remain committed to the people I've been walking with for all of these years.

In his book, Visions of Vocation, Steven Garber asks: "Why is it, in the face of situations that seem too complex, too broken, that human beings sometimes still choose to enter in - knowing that they will suffer, knowing that it will cost them - that for love’s sake they still choose responsibility?"

On days when it all feels like it's too much, when I don't believe I can bear to hear one more story, when I just want to go back to living a normal American life, oblivious to the great suffering just miles off our shores, this quote plays on repeat in my head:

"You may choose to look the other way, but you can never say again that you did not know." William Wilberforce

Today I still choose responsibility.

October 20, 2024 - our last photo together.  We had every belief that we would be together again on November 15.

But today we are heartbroken

This is Kelly.

He used to be an inmate at CERMICOL. When he was released about 2 years ago, he started coming to church faithfully. The church came around him, loved him, helped him start a small business.

He was even part of the podcast with WORLD last year.

Then about 3 months ago, he didn't come to church. Weeks passed. No one could find him. No one heard from him.

Yesterday we received word that he was executed about 3 months ago. Why? Because of his past life. Because people were suspicious of him because of who he had been, not because of who he had become.

But by all accounts, he had left that old life behind. He was a new creation in Christ.

Kelly’s story was one of the “wins” we had seen in Haiti. We had shared so much joy being part of his journey.

But today we are heartbroken. 💔