Back in April I went on a missions trip to Haiti.
Some trips are ordained from the Lord, and this was one of them. It came at a perfect time. My best friend’s six-week old baby died a week before the trip, and the funeral was three days before I left. I was grieving and in shock and wondering whether I should even still go on the trip.
But of course I couldn’t do anything here, so off to Haiti I went.
I told my family “no news is good news” and was off the grid for seven days. After weeks of being glued to my phone waiting for updates on Owen, it was strangely refreshing to not have any connection with anyone. It gave me time to process what the heck just happened in the last six weeks and be fully present in the work our team was doing in Haiti.
No part of the trip was restful — we got up early, painted buildings in the hot sun, and were emotionally drained by the amount of poverty we saw — but the trip was restful for my soul. I wrestled with God at the brokenness of the world. I still am, really. This whole world is so broken, every single square inch of it is sick and sad and not what it was intended to be. But during this trip, he began showing me the ways he’s piecing it back together and bringing restoration. Goodness in the midst of evil. Joy in the midst of poverty. Hope in the midst of loss.
I have never longed for heaven as much as I did during that trip.