How close is too close?

I am very close to many of the children here.  I hug on them, love on them, talk to them, play with them, and they love me right back.  Some of them look to me as a big brother, some as a friend, but there is one girl in particular who calls me “Papi,” and I think she means it.  Her name is Mirielle.  Mirielle is the same girl who tried to keep me in Haiti in August with an extra long goodbye and tears in her eyes .  Her mother died not too long ago.  Her father, well, I guess he may as well be dead to her.  When she was found in the streets, she was very dirty and very thin, and she had very bad street-childlike habits, having been neglected by her father.  Lunda, a young lady from the church, took her in and started treating her as her own, although she is a young 20-something.

Mirielle is happy with Lunda, looking to her as her own mother, but something in her still wants a daddy, and I think she picked me.  Now that I think about it, after every service, Mirielle comes to greet me, and whenever she “takes me on a walk” we always end up next to Lunda.  Maybe this is her subtle attempt at matchmaking, wanting her adoptive mommy and her chosen daddy to be together.  (Don’t worry, Lunda knows how “taken” I am.  As far as people outside of my family, she has probably heard about Joycelyne the most.  I wouldn’t trade Joycelyne for the world… In fact, someone already offered me the world and a million dollars and I turned them down, ).  It’s a cute effort on Mirielle’s part, but I’m not at all interested.

I don’t mind showing Mirielle love like a father would.  I love doing that.  But I began to wonder if it is good to let a little girl get so attached to me when I’ll be leaving again in late July.  Furthermore, I will be in Grad school for as many as 8 years.  This means that by the time I am stable in Haiti, she will be pretty close to twenty years old, if not older.  I don’t think she knows or understands that.  I don’t want her to get her hopes up, thinking I’ll always be around, and be crushed to find out that I’ll be gone yet again for the majority of the next 7-10 years.  So in my case, how close is too close?  Even in the future, if I am living in Haiti and I have a family of my own, how close is too close?  I don’t know.  What do you think?

Oh No… Not the “M” word again!

This is an old blog from Junior’s Blogsite

I went to see the fam again yesterday (granny, the aunties, and the many cousins whose names I am still learning). I was sitting there listening to my gran tell stories, and she was expressing her desire to get the whole family together for a picture before she dies. As usual, she spoke as if that could happen any moment. Then I told her that she wasn’t allowed to die until she blessed my first child. That unleashed a conversation that I had done very well to escape throughout all of my visits this summer. Yes, for the 487th time in my two years of visits, my aunts and my grandma sat me down and lectured me about… marriage. I went mute, but I secretly hoped they would see the “here we go again” look on my face. Clearly they didn’t.

First, came the interrogation. They always ask tons of questions that I have no answers to, but in Haiti, when your elders ask a question, you are obligated to give a response. At one point I responded “too many questions” to a question that I didn’t want to answer and I was (playfully) threatened with the “baton” (whippin’ stick). However, I successfully evaded the question. hehehe

Then came the advice. I wish your brothers would get married, but you… you still have time. You’re too young to get married anyway. (Tell that to all of my friends who apparently had wedding dresses on underneath their cap & gowns). “You should wait till you’re at least 30…” one said. Then the other says “it wouldn’t even be a mistake for you to wait till you are near 40.” I laughed out loud (mistake… that only continued the conversation). “What? You want to get married young?” I said that I wouldn’t mind, then braced myself…

Then came the warnings. “It’s not everything that you think it is. Marriage is like putting a collar around your neck. I know you don’t believe in divorce, so you better be careful who’s hands are holding that chain…” Then she went on talking about marriage as if it were a necessary evil rather than a blessing from God. All the while I took James & Tina Starr’s advice to not dwell upon the negative things that people say about marriage. So I tried to tune it all out by meditating on verses like “It is not good for man to be alone,” and “a man who finds a wife finds a good thing” while they spoke about Paul’s exhortation to remain single for as long as possible. I reminded them that the context of that scripture is very important. Universal application of Paul’s exhortation would be a direct disobedience of God’s command to “be fruitful and multiply…” which I definitely plan to obey to the fullest.

My aunties spoke mostly as witnesses, not through their own personal experience (they seem to have healthy relationships with my uncles, but have witnessed plenty of marital nightmares in their lives which they gladly shared with me). I don’t blame them for their views on marriage. After all, they had plenty of evidence to back them up. But to me, it is evidence of a deeper problem. The problem isn’t “marriage” itself. The problem is that relationships between men and women in Haiti need healing… Very deep healing. (DISCLAIMER: clearly I don’t have experience in this domain, but I speak from what I have heard and seen.  Also, some of what I will say is not unique to Haitian culture nor are they universal to it.  I readily admit that I have a lot to learn).

First off, I believe that relationships suffer from a common Haitian political syndrome: power abuse. Just like in the public domain sometimes couples “punish” each other through various abuses of power (holding out on funds, sex, etc.) rather than resolving issues through love. It is unfortunate that you will find this problem common in the Church. Christian men who neglect Ephesians 5:25 have plenty of ammo to “put their wives in their place” with Ephesians 5:24.  (P.S. this is also a problem in the American Church & American marriages).

Then there are other forms of abuse. If we had any idea what the true statistics were for women who are abused physically and/or sexually, I think we’d refuse to believe it. On many occasions I have found myself coming to the defense of young women being verbally assaulted by young men on public transportation…  When I do, people look at me funny as if I am ruining some sort of game.  But I know enough women who hate this kind of “sweet talk” to encourage me to continue to defend them.  Many feel like they can’t defend themselves. I have a close friend who was almost raped a few weeks ago by a man twice her age. Nothing is being done to defend her, and very little remains to protect her. What’s worse is that if he actually succeeded in his attempt, she would be the one to carry the shame (which leaves me wondering if she is holding back part of the truth to “protect” herself).

But it’s not just the abuse and objectification, but a simple lack of appreciation. When you look at Haitian society, you see that a good Haitian woman is worthy of praise, as in Proverbs 31. Haitian women hold the world together, but It seems to me that Haitian men have a problem showing Haitian women their proper worth. Of course I don’t see it from the inside, but it shows on the outside. I know men, good men, who you wouldn’t guess were married if it weren’t for the ring on their finger (that is for the ones who wear one). I’m used to hanging around men like Reggie and Pastor Rollan, who take every possible chance to praise their wives publicly. And now there are James and Tina who I don’t believe I have ever seen apart… ever. So at first I brushed it off as a cultural thing that I wasn’t used to, then I saw that, for some, getting married was just as special as buying a horse to till a field. A man that I thought we were close to came to our house to do some work, and it was then that we found out that he got married days earlier. We never even knew he was engaged. For many (not all), marriage is just a step in life that people go through. Like any business agreement, its something that will help you live more efficiently. Nothing more is really expected. That might explain the lack of smiles in many wedding photos. I will say that many newlyweds that I am close to here show hope that they are an exception to much of what I just said… I pray that God will continue to hold their love strong.

Me, I refuse to look at the greatest biblical paradigm as if it were a bad business deal. I’ve discussed before in a previous blog how beautiful it must be when a marriage actually works as described in Ephesians 5. We see how beautifully Christ works in partnership with his Bride in all things. How he invites Her to sit next to Him, in an elevated place so that all can see Her and respect Her as they respect Him. How He esteems Her, loves Her, leads Her, and sacrifices for Her. And how she, for all these reasons cannot resist Him. In awe of Him, his love, and his leadership, she cannot but lovingly submit, joining him in an effort to accomplish His purposes (which becomes Their purpose).

That’s what I am after. I won’t dwell on the negative examples that are before me. Instead, I will continue to look toward the perfect example of Christ and the church. That’s why I look to the future with joy. I won’t be naïve to think that marriage doesn’t require work, and compromise, and some of that other stuff that I have been warned about. But, after Christ painted such a beautiful picture of marriage, I refuse to believe that it is anything but pure Joy that has been set before me. I only hope that I can at least provide a more positive model of marriage for other young people to see, hope for, and aspire to.

If the way I talk about marriage makes you wonder if I am close to that decision in my life… remember that before you buy a horse, it is smart to buy a field and build a stable. I have neither field, stable, nor horse for that matter… but we’ll see what God brings my way. I’ve got plenty of details to work out in my life before I can officially invite someone into it.

That explains everything…

I just had a great visit with my grandmother. She’s so wonderful. She told me a bunch of stories.  Stories that made me laugh (a lot), and others made a lot of things make sense.

She told me that my mom would sing and pray in her sleep, ever since she was seven. Yeah… For those of you who knew my mother, that really does explain a lot. She was a strong woman of God. Robenson talked about television and watermelon in his sleep. Who knows what that might say about his adulthood, haha.

Rob, you’d be happy to know that when mom was a child she was also a “destroyer” like you (you may be the most like her after all). The only difference is that she was honest. Grandma recounted to me this conversation:

[CRASH!! CRASH!!]
GRAN: “Ke! What are you doing in there!”
MOM: “I’m breaking glasses!”
GRAN: [to herself] “Mezanmi!… She told the truth. Now I can’t whip her…” [to mom] “Ke! Ou pa dwe fe sa!” (you shouldn’t do that!)

Hilarious! I laughed so hard when she told me that story. Wow, what a great visit. It ended with her praying over me, and then telling me to never get fat. Such a sweet lady. Always looking out for me.

The most important woman in my life…

The Most Important Woman in My Life

I’d like to take a moment to tell the WHOLE WORLD about a very special young lady in my life. I love her with all of my heart. I’ve known her for quite a while, and now that I’ve lost contact with her in the past couple months (due to my stupid broken web-phone) I think about her all the time.

It all started one day in March of ’88 when my mother went out for a couple days, and when she came back I noticed that she had “lost weight.” She also held a wrinkly little creature in her arms. When she said that it was “a baby like [I] was,” the word “was” rang in my ear. I had been replaced.

Though I secretly plotted to hide her among some blankets or somewhere in the closet so I could take back my throne (some call it a high seat), she slowly grew on me and we became good friends. It still would be a long time before I’d admit it.

Most people don’t believe me when I say this, but she used to beat me up. I probably asked for it, but all I remember was her wild angry eyes and her tendency to bite her cheeks before unleashing her fists of fury. Someone told me I wasn’t allowed to hit her back (at least while people were looking) and she took advantage of that. There were times she would walk up to me, suckerpunch me in the gut for no reason, look me in the eye, and simply say “expect it” meaning that it could come at anytime. That’s the “sweet” little Judy I knew.

Even though she climbed down that baby-sized throne and became a tyrant, I still loved her. Eventually we began terrorizing others together. It seems that our most childish days are the most recent… “Jousting” people that don’t wanna be jousted is a good example. She’s also the only 19-year-old girl that I know that still gets regular piggyback rides.

I also love how we have a tendency to travel long distances (across states) without directions. ["Where are we going?" "I dunno, north?" "Ok, sounds good to me."] We have similar laid-back personalities. There aren’t many people in the world willing to take that adventure with me. They’re too occupied with “destinations.” For us, its all about the accidental trips into places like “Lynchburg” on streets like “Needmore Road.”

All in all, she turned out to be a nice young lady that I love with all of my liver (the heart is over rated—plus I already used that one and it wasn’t enough). Smart and beautiful, tied (with her beautiful sister) for second in all the world. Second only to my future wife whom I do not yet know. (or do I?) I often ask her to let me beat someone up for her to show her how much I care, but she keeps her quarrels with boys secret because she knows I’d actually lay ‘em out. Even though I haven’t faught since middle-school, I have no problem bringing my Champion’s Belt out of retirement. I had the pleasure once, in a dream. I got to kick a mouthy little Haitian boy in the face. I woke up smiling.

Lots of things make me think of her, but especially Christmas. Sooo many Christmas memories. Like “Merry Thursday.” Or like the time that we “picketted” to be allowed to open our presents early. I believe that was the time that mom had hid them well enough from our paper-pealing fingers (still not as well as the time we were still finding presents in January). They actually made it to Chrismas Eve with ALL of their wrapping intact. Mom just laughed and ridiculed us. Then there was the time that we were forced to join the Children’s Christmas pagent although we had never rehersed. On top of that, we walked in late! Somehow we thought that getting ready slowly would get us out of it. We always underestimated Mom. Then we always sat on Santa’s lap for a picture every year because that was the only way we could get that bag of candy.

Judy, this is two too many Christmases (Christmi? Christmice? Christmasen? What’s the plural of Christmas?) without you. I miss you. At least now I know that we have no choice but to one day be neighbors for life or I might be sad a lot. Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. And no matter what the TV says, don’t be kissin’ any boys when the ball drops. Unless you really don’t like ‘em. Remember the Champion’s Belt? I’ll make sure to save you some Crèmasse if you promise not to under-age drink it. Not really… We all know that crèmasse is actually a dessert that tingles. Apparently I’m bad at closing letters. Merry Tuesday!

Love You,
Junior.

P.S. The following song is dedicated to you.

Just Like Old Times… In a New Place

You know what I miss from Duke… praying and worshiping together with my friends till 2am. I miss the group that can’t seem to hang out like normal 20+ year olds without breaking into prayer, worship, and intercession. (Irina… hold back the tears, there’s a hopeful message coming). But what I found out in the last couple weeks, is that such a passion for God is contagious. You carry it wherever you go. It breaks through all cultural and language barriers to ignite little flames in the hearts of people whom you decide to open yourself up to. That is if you open up.

About two weeks ago I was on the roof one night with my guitar, praying and worshiping, when Amos decided to interrupt me. Honestly, I was a little upset at first because I had come up to be alone with God. He couldn’t have known that though, because I was singing in English. We talked for awhile about me teaching him how to play the guitar and teaching him some songs in English and then it hit me. That morning, God put it on my heart to translate some of my favorite songs into Kreyol. I knew that he and Paul love to sing so I told him to get Paul so we could pray and worship together. I don’t have words to describe how great the presence of God felt that night as we sang “Glorify Your Name” (Glorifye Nom Ou).

We continued to do this off and on over the next week and God put it on my heart to talk to them about the burden that I felt to pray for Haiti, specifically our region (Petite Place Cazeau). We spoke about it, then I showed them the Transformations video (www.sentinelgroup.org) to build their faith about what God can do when we unite in prayer and they were ready to jump in with me. That video is amazing–watch it!. I explained to them a vision that God gave to me. In it I saw the three of us praying and worshiping together on the rooftop. As we were doing so, someone came and knocked at the gate. They came to pray with us. This continued until the roof was covered. They were all young people like us. To keep the fire going, we decided to plant a “satellite” prayer group on another rooftop.

That night we decided to begin working toward that vision. We outlined a few things that we want to see changed in our area and in the church of Haiti and we began to pray together. We don’t know when or how, but we are standing to believe that God will transform this area and this nation. After last night’s session I realized that its just like old times… just new faces in a new place.

On another note, the annual revival began Sunday Night and will end on August 26. The theme is “Lord, we need your fire.” Showing that desperation for God, the congregation is also meeting every morning at 5am for prayer. Thinking that we would only see a few people there, my dad and I arrived a few minutes late to find that we couldn’t find a place to sit… we could barely stand. God is moving…