I have pictures, hundreds of them, proving I’d been on Haitian soil. The scent of the country still lingers in the back of my memory. But I have a hard time remembering the details.
This would not be the case had I walked off the plane in Texas, greeted by a happy family, and segued into my normal, everyday life.
Instead, I’ve lived in shock and awe since October 12th, riding the waves of my daughter’s mystery illness, prayed often, cried a few times, bordered on exhaustion, and questioned my sanity. Sometimes I’ve shut down completely, feeling numb. Other times I’ve put on my investigative reporter hat, trying to discern what was wrong. I’ve given up, then taken up the fight again.
And all the while, the whisper of a school haunts me. Its walls erected with canvas, with no proper ceiling. While my daughter battles her own way out of a homework pit, kids in Haiti face rain and rocks and wind.
Though the trauma, even though I have a hard time remembering, Haiti still beckons.
I don’t have a big voice. And lately it’s not been steady or strong. But I have shared with you the dream of building a school.
And as of YESTERDAY, the school is funded. Fully. I can’t help but smile and cheer and rejoice. Such a magnanimous goal we had, to raise $100,000 by Christmas. At times I doubted, but the Lord prompted hundreds of you to give, and little by little, the funding came in.
A village of Haitian boys and girls will have a school with a roof and walls. And for that I’m excessively grateful.
In terms of Julia, we still have no answers. She’s been stronger and has been able to go to school part time on some days. She is tired and worn out. But she keeps at it, day after day, which is all we can ask. She’s got fire inside, a fight I’m thankful for. I’m tired of the trial. I wish it would end. But I know God will do some very cool things in the midst of the fight. Please continue to pray for Julia.