What I Hate The Most About Haiti

Another interesting day today in Haiti.  Nothing out of the norm really, but here I am, inspired to write what I hate most about Haiti. I am not talking about the generalities of what we all hate about Haiti, such as the poverty and corruption that entrap millions in utter despair, that is a given. I am talking about the selfish side of hatred, that is, how Haiti affects me.

Yes, another lovely and inspirational post from Scott.  But hang with me if you have a few minutes. 

Let’s think about what I could possibly list what I hate just from the past 48 hours.  Maybe it would be the heat.  Summer is upon us and it is now officially stifling; hot during the day is one thing, but hot at night sucks. It is a constant drain to energy as you sweat typing an email, eating your lunch, and even drying yourself off after a shower.  But this isn’t what I hate the most.

It could be that everything here constantly breaks.  We go from one repair to the next, until it loops around and we are repairing the same things again and again.  Not just old things, brand new as well.  If it has a plug, it has a lifespan of one to 12 months in Haiti.  But this isn’t what I hate the most.

We just said goodbye to Russell today, our kids teacher. His wife left a few weeks ago.  They lived with us and were perfect guests, good friends, and a huge blessing to our family and our ministry.  Soon, more friends will be leaving.  Relationships in Haiti are so transient that you start to turn numb to people out of protection, which is dangerous when your kids develop such a habit.  But this isn’t what I hate the most.

Is it that is nearly a full time job just managing our house?  Pumping water, generator problems, cleaning batteries, broken toilets, cold showers, no water pressure?  No.

Is it the rats?  The tarantulas?  The ants?  No. No. No.

Surely it is the traffic right?  The blokis that destroy all schedules, appointments and plans?  The crazy drivers that run me off the road multiple times each day?  The gas shortages, the pot holes, the flooded roads, or piles of burning garbage everywhere? No.

The endless frustrations that come with ministry?  Especially ministry with kids?  Especially ministry with teens!?  No.

Or maybe that its that I have so many constant injuries and ailments that I feel like I am 75 year old.  (Busted ankles, an elbow that can’t bend to 90 degrees, a nasty infection on my leg that will never heal, a smashed thumb, a weak knee, a back that absorbs hundreds of pot holes a day.)  No, it’s not that either.

The fact that I don’t get to see my family much right now.  That my wife and I consider getting stuck in traffic alone together our ‘date time’. That lunch is what it nearly always is, beans and rice.  That dinner last night was crackers.   That I sat in the dark without power for nearly six hours last night, drenched in sweat and driven to point of madness by hundreds of mosquitos.  Or that I got a total of three hours worth of sleep, and will likely repeat all of this tonight?  Almost, but no, that is not what I hate the most.

What I hate the most about Haiti is what all of these things reveal about myself.  I hate that these things make me cranky and puts stress on my relationship with my wife.  I hate that it can change my mood into times of negativity or depression. That the external can have control of the internal.

I hate how it exposes how I think that just because I didn’t get much sleep or I am hungry that it gives me some sort of ‘right’ to get frustrated, or to not bestow love and grace on those around me.  Like I get some sort of pass from being a disciple of Jesus because I had a rough day, or have a headache, or my plans just got obliterated.

I hate that I can get so focused on all these difficulties in Haiti that I miss the beautiful side to this country, which is found in abundance in its people.

I hate that it exposes my lack of contentment, my pride, my weaknesses, my ego, my true motives, my sinful nature, my lack of faith.

What I hate most about Haiti, in actuality, has little to do with Haiti. What I hate the most is to realize that the biggest mountain to overcome in this country is myself.  All the other issues in my day to day are just part of the path He put me on to teach me, to test me, to help me to grow and to overcome.  The work here makes me challenge my theological and missiological beliefs daily.  The harshness of the spiritual climate puts my world view two inches from my face and screams, “What do you think about your beliefs now, Scott?”  These challenges are tough but in reality are spiritual work-out that builds strength and solidifies my foundation in truth.

When I am honest I realize how much fluff has entered into my Christian walk through the years.  Worthless theology that may seem to be right in the context of the bubble that is the United States, but in the rest of the world, it is utter sophistry.  (A gospel that can only hold a shadow of truth in one socio-economic area of the world is not the gospel of Jesus Christ.) 

My challenge now is to realize that my daily tests are opportunities for me to mature spiritually; to not look back and see things in terms of good days or bad days, tough or easy, stressful or relaxing; but to look back and ask myself, “Did I walk in the likeness of Christ that day?”.  I must learn to not allow the events of today to hijack the work that the Holy Spirit wants to accomplish within me.  Our emotions and reactions cannot be led by an external situation, we are to be led solely by His Spirit.

Easier said than done, but the first step is accepting the fact that God is quite aware of the bumps, hills, mountains, pitfalls and valleys in the road of your life.  Those challenges are not to be excuses as to why you failed to walk in the fullness of Christ, but are the training so that you can walk boldly in the fullness of Him.

Well, here I sit, sweaty, hungry and tired.  A piping hot bowl of porridge awaits me, and I am once again the main course on the dinner menu for the mosquitos.  It is a good thing for me to realize that when Paul the Apostle wrote  of his overwhelming joy, he wrote it from prison. When he wrote about contentment, he had chains on him. He taught us that our joy should not come from our surroundings, but from seeing Christ magnified in our lives and others.

-Scott