Haiti - I'll Go Backwards

I just got back from 10 days in Haiti, a mission trip through my church, UPC. (Read more about the project here) I'm still knee deep in processing the whole thing, but I'm thinking it was probably the most incredible adventure of my life to date, and an adequate description of the experience would never fit here. So I'll work backwards, starting with a sappy letter I wrote to myself as my time in Haiti drew to a close.

Dear Shannon who is

back in Seattle

living on Facebook

worrying about her hair

once again taking long, hot showers.

To the Shannon who has

lost her tan

cleaned the last bit of dust out of her ears

and whose life has resumed its usual pattern.

Don't forget Haiti.

Life in Seattle will probably sweep you up again with its deadlines and commitments, priorities and stresses, so you can't hold on tightly to this experience forever. Over time you will have to loosen your grip and the smell of the dust, or "pousye," from the dirt road will fade.

You will remember that the Foison kids sang you songs on your way to the river, but you will not remember the tunes.

You'll tell people about riding in the back of Bruce's truck, but your arms will have forgotten what it really felt like, keeping you steady over the ditches and under the branches of a tree or "pyebwa" whipping by.

And that's ok. You only have two hands, Shannon. You can't hold on to everything.

But do remember what's important. When your job, your schedule, and your materialism come calling, asking for your attention once more, hold on to a bit of Haiti.

Hold on to

the miracle of rain

the thrill of a new language
the freedom to greet strangers like potential friends.

Try to

live with a greater awareness of your need for God, despite the incredible comfort of being American

turn concerns quickly into prayers and then fully expect answers to them

pause to give thanks every time thanks is due.

Remember

the Haitians you met with not much more than their family and a hard day's work to their name, but whose existence is raw, full, and focused

that your corner of Seattle is a speck on the global map and the way you live your life is just one way out of millions

how sweet a shower can feel when you know you earned every inch of dirt.

I can only imagine how much you're going to miss this place, Seattle Shannon, as I haven't even left yet and can already feel an ache somewhere deep in my chest. But... enjoy your rich, blessed life all the more because of your experiences here, and hold on to next year when you get to come back.

Love,
A happy, dusty, Haiti Shannon