At first I had been reluctant in our relationship, not sure if he was trustworthy. But then I listened to the music. I saw the faces of the people. I started day-dreaming. I got attached. I became vulnerable, and now he's left me.
What will I do now? Consider my sad fate:
- Those tall-tale teller marketers wrote in my bio on the back of Hope Lives that I've traveled extensively in the developing world. Haiti was going to make an honest woman out of me.
- I was counting on what I'm calling "The Third World Diet." Every six months or so, I visit a 3rd-world country to lose an extra 5 pounds through either fasting or diarrhea, whichever comes first. I was going to write a book. It was going to be big.
- I'd already made cute little homemade granola packages for Ephraim and Ricot, my Haitian friends, wrapped with brown bows. Instead of the 3rd-world diet, I'll be on a granola bender.
- My consciousness depends on my brain calendar. I set my mind on various dates of import, and thus divide and conquer my world. Haiti was my dividing line. Now my brain is amuck in a world of chaos and uncertainty.
- Where will I use new and useful phrases I learned such as "Tout ko mwen cho," or "my whole body is hot"?
If you think I'm being flippant about a very serious and sad situation, don't worry. I just wrote a serious and sad blog for Compassion's blog. I just had to take a moment to mourn my lost relationship.
If you will, pray with me for these things:
- The safety of my friends in the Haiti Compassion office.
- The safety of Natalie and DJ, Australians I work with who were visiting Haiti and are now trying to get out.
- Effective action of the Haitian government to address the rising food costs and famine.
- Safety of and provision for all those innocently suffering.