Friday, March 25, 2011

"How do you describe Indescribable?"

“Incredible.” “Amazing.” “Fulfilling.” “Awesome.” “Beyond words.” “Mountain top.” “Indescribable.” At the end of our time in Haiti, we all circled as a group, hearts weighing heavy with sorrow knowing our time quickly passed and is now ending, and we shared it all. We talked about what expectations we had, and how greatly they were exceeded. We discussed the changes we knew the Lord is trying to do in our lives and how sometimes he never gets through to us until we break from all the distractions in the world or have our eyes opened to the worst poverty on the planet. What will it take? That is a question I ask a lot. Sometimes I think God has to bring us to our knees before we even consider coming to Him. As each person in the team uttered great descriptive words that tried to capture an uncapturable experience, we realized that we were all striving to put words on something that there are not words for. Ron prayed, “How do you describe indescribable?” The reason for all of the bonds, all of the work, all of the moments that we will remember forever is because the entire week we were truly in the pure presence of God. Those who read this and don’t know what that really means, I honestly don’t know how to describe it. It is overwhelming. As hard as we try to describe the presence of God and the experiences we just shared during the week, we couldn’t. There are not words in any language to bring that to understanding. Trying to describe the presence of God to someone that has never known Him is like trying to describe a sunset to someone that has never seen color. How do you describe indescribable?

Haiti was worse than I imagined. The city is dark and broken. Dust and dirt coat lungs. Rubble is now everyday landscape. Drains and now bathing spots. Tents are now homes. Children are parentless and parents are childless. The word destruction does not come close to what our eyes have taken in. Through it all, somehow they have joy. The people shine bright smiles past their dark skin. Their eyes tell a story of brokenness, while at the same time, sharing a testimony of hope. The light of Christ, like never before, has begun to spread across the dark country of Haiti. Just as buildings are still being cleared and reconstructed, hope is born.

The work of our hands only accomplished small tasks this week, but our hearts and presence amongst the people I pray impacted them beyond words. We know we were impacted. About half way through the week, a few Haitian children and teenagers would join us each night for worship. Music would echo from my guitar and voices would rise throughout the room. Carlton and one of our new Haitian friends played percussion on red Igloo coolers. The cook’s son, Ishmael brought along his small deep toned guitar to assist in bass. Before we knew it a worship band had formed and sung praises to our Maker. Eighteen Americans and a handful of Haitians all sat in a giant tent making an anthem about the joy of our Salvation. Deborah, a girl about twelve years old pulled on Christi’s shirt and requested a song close to her heart. She didn’t know the English so she began to sing the tune in Creole. After the first line, smiles spread across our faces knowing the tune that she was singing was Heart of Worship. We laughed. We played. We sang English and they used the familiar words in their own tongue. Two languages clearly distinguished harmonized into one song. “I’m coming back to the heart of worship, it’s all about you, it’s all about you Jesus. I’m sorry Lord for the things I’ve made it, because it is all about you. It’s all about you Jesus.”

The last night as we tried to tell each other what the week had meant to each of us, we realized there were no words that could reach the summit of the mountain where we stood. We closed in prayer asking the Lord to remain in us and allow us to remain in him. Just before breaking to clean and pack, two of our new friends, Ishmael and Deborah, stood up with something to say. In broken quiet English Ishmael shared his heart, “We just want to thank. Thank you. For sharing with us. For let us play and sing. For spend time. For being here. We see Jesus.” Our hearts already on overflowing with love just poured over. He said, “we have something small for each.” Deborah opened her binder she gripped tightly in her hands, and revealed a gift that each of us will cherish forever. She had used her artistic gifts to create drawings unique for each person on the team. Each illustrated ample amounts of time and intricate design. Everyone in the room fought tears as she passed out the drawings in silence. She would smile and give a hug with each present. Once she returned to her seat, we all sat in a silence of awe.

A member of the team said, “I just saw God today.”

How do you describe indescribable?

1 comment:

  1. It sounds so amazing. I won't lie, I cried through the whole thing. We do have such a wonderful maker, and I know you honored him with your time and new relationships in Haiti. Thank you for sharing! ~Mandy