On Thursday everyone got on the bus and took a long, bumpy ride to Canez, Haiti. Last time I was in Canez, Dave was with me, I was on crutches, and I sat in the medical tent all day. It was an amazing experience, but I didn’t get to see much of the village.
This year was different. This year I walked between the thatch huts and talked to the families in their homes, held their children, prayed for them, and got to really see Canez. I saw the one room huts that families of 8 lived in and the mothers who had nothing ask only for prayer for their children. If ever I believe I am poor in possessions or rich in faith, I hope I remember the people of Canez and how I have so much to learn about gratefulness and faith.
As we were leaving Canez, we stood beneath the only shade tree and sang worship songs together. I was so in awe of their exuberance in worship; the faith they have despite their lack of physical comforts of any kind (food, clean water, shoes, beds) puts any American worship service I have seen in perspective. Our faith seems so small. Our gratefulness seems so skewed. Our hearts seem so closed.
I pray that I can be more like the people of Canez.