In my purse I've been carrying around a tiny rock. Not just any ordinary rock, mind you. A special rock that has unique powers. Every time my fingers run over it as I rummage for my keys, wallet or Burt's Bees lip balm it inevitably brings back a flood of memories.

Time is quickly going by, and even with my journal and pictures that chronicle my time in Haiti, many of the once vivid memories find themselves fading. And so I'm thankful for this little rock that's no bigger than quarter.

I remember very distinctly when I was given this memento. I was walking aimlessly around New Life, listening to the mixture of cries and laughter coming from the kids playing, and the soft chatter in Creole wafting from the kitchen. I stopped abruptly when I noticed a good friend bent over, intently looking at the pebble drive. "What is she doing?" I incredulously wondered. Curiosity got the best of me and I inquired what she was so focused on. "Finding heart shaped rocks," was her reply. Skeptically I asked,"have you found any?" "Here you go," she said as she placed this heart in my palm.

"No way," I thought to myself, "she actually found one among the millions of stones strewn about"...but then she found another, and another (guess there's more than I thought! lol). I slipped my heart-rock into my pocket and continued walking...in many ways, it became a symbol of my trip.

Our time in Haiti was mostly made up of rubbing shoulders with lots of different people. Whether that was at the construction sight, driving through the towns, sight-seeing, or just around New Life with the children and staff. I was so blessed to come in contact with many beautiful hearts. Many of those hearts intent on serving the King and then there were many broken hearts in pain from the effects of sin. My journal entries are constantly retelling how I chatted with so-and-so about this ministry, or that pressing need in the community, how the kids were stealing my heart, or late night worship sessions...or just enjoying a simple game of Dutch Blitz. "Spent the remainder of the day loving on the kids. Paulson, Rosena, Lovelita...and many others. Love these kids....Ate dinner with some of the group from Rhode Island. We had a beautiful time of worship in the chapel, followed by a walk through the girls dorm to say goodnight to the kiddos....It is so refreshing to be in the thick of a predominately unselfish environment. Every person here is working hard to the good of someone else....So awesome meeting new people and learning about the visions God has burdened their hearts with." I could go on and on, but you get the idea.

So many individuals came across my path. Beautiful hearts, every single one of them.

No matter where you are it's very easy to just look at the masses and not see hearts and souls. Especially in Haiti, when the needs seem so glaring. But I never want to loose the reality that each person is unique in God's eyes, special and valuable beyond description to Him. And that's what I want that tiny rock in my purse to remind me of...the lovely people I met while there, and the very individual, beautiful hearts of the people of Haiti that are in desperate need of the gospel preached, and love of Jesus exhibited.

"Give me Your eyes for just one second,

Give me Your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me Your love for humanity

Give me Your arms for the broken hearted

Ones that are far beyond my reach.

Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten

Give me Your eyes so I can see."

  - Brandon Heath

Dezyem Jou {Second Day}

January 15, 2012..."God is at work. In my heart, in this team, this orphanage and in Haiti. I can't thank the Lord enough for bringing me here."

That was scribbled after one of the more emotionally intense days spent in Haiti. After breakfast, we all piled in two vehicles and made our way to a local church. Along the way our senses were completely and utterly overwhelmed by the poverty. Of that ride I wrote, "Everywhere we go it's just more and more poverty. Real poverty. Nothing is clean and safe. Survival of the fittest is a rule that is etched on every one's faces." You just couldn't get over it.

Worship at Port-au-Prince Fellowship was simply beautiful. Very real and genuine. We were reminded once again that no matter where a person goes on this earth, God is still the same...and as we worshiped together it was a telling glimpse of what heaven will be like. So wonderfully overwhelming and refreshing.

After church and grabbing a bite to eat, we made our way around Port-au-Prince, getting a snapshot of city. And it's here that I'll let my journal pick up the remainder of the account..."We headed toward downtown, snaking our way long the dusty roads crammed with people, trash and makeshift buildings. My heart broke. I've never seen anything like it in person. So much despair and devastation. People lying on the streets, children running here and there, filthy with swollen bellies...and to think that this is the "normal" to them. This is how they exist. Life just keeps going on with little to no change, and there are very little signs of repair."

You just see need after need pass you by. The enormity of the situation overwhelms, leaving a burden that can quickly lean toward depression. Where do you start? How do you best meet the pressing needs? As we toured, it struck me how "American" my response was. Not a perspective I necessarily thought I would have to deal with as much. I mean, here's a girl that travels, devours missionary biographies, National Geographic and follows countless blogs written by missionaries in destitute places all over the globe. This American ideology shouldn't be so ingrained, should it? I quickly realized my blind spot. Our first world viewpoint shelters us with the thought that everyone must/wants to be like us. I had bought into it to some degree and found that as one takes in the evident plight of the people there is this sense of urgency to respond and alleviate. It seems only natural to desire the "less fortunate" to possess the things/opportunities we do, and in some ways that is still perfectly fine... but, as the week unfolded my preconceived notions (however noble they might be), were upstaged by a slightly different vision, one that indeed addresses pain and suffering, just in a non-mainstream way. One that I pray is more Christ-like and less American.