"Can a tsunami go over the mountains? Is it faster than an airplane?”

These questions were sincerely asked by the driver as we sat in the pick-up truck taking us to our destination in Haiti. The caregiver and overseer of a newly resurrected children’s home was bringing us home… to his home of twenty-nine orphaned children. Truth be told, I’d never thought much about that question, but when mouthed by someone who fears this reality, I looked at it differently. Fear shone in his eyes as he searched ours for reassurance that life couldn’t get much worse… could it?

“Will Japan be poor now, too?” In his mind, they now had common ground. When the bottom had literally dropped from beneath that country as well, he wondered why that part of the world doesn’t become just as poverty stricken. His confused expression said it all. We tried to explain that they had a few more economic policies in place, but we quickly changed the subject as his chin dropped and a look of futile shame crept across his face.

“Does it get below five degrees?” When we informed him that indeed it can get colder than that, he asked, “How do people take showers when it is so cold? How does the water come out?”

“Do you live far from the airport?” Putting it into the context of what he was asking, we merely told him, “Ten hours.” His perception was that of one airport per country; we did not expound upon our statement.

“Do you know John Deere? Does he live by you?” We said we did not know him, and that indeed it is the name of a business. We all shrugged wondering just who John Deere truly was, and I made a note to perhaps find out once home.

“Do you like Obama? Republicans want to see him fail!” This guy is smart. He was wise indeed and highly perceptive.

His questions would come sporadically, showing genuine curiosity.

“Are all Americans millionaires? We think they are.” We told him they were not and pulled out pictures of our large families. He seemed unconvinced, and I suppose relatively speaking, yes, we are all millionaires.
How do you describe a rainbow to someone who has not seen one? How do you respond to questions from someone who has no basis with which to grasp your response?

I have no answers, but the purity in which the questions were asked was gift enough to respond gently in love. Uplifting that which they did have was paramount. The new handle for the well and food for the children were both pluses. Three healthy babies returning from the hospital, the wooden cribs fixed, and a water filter system giving hope for troubled tummies were notable accomplishments. Scabies under control, a nurse on staff at all times, and the hope of a doctor coming next month were major victories. The repaired front door and the flat roof now utilized as a play area were bright spots in a very chaotic world.

Chaos is relative when you are living at the epicenter where an earthquake took place just one year ago. As night gave way to darkness, songs were lifted high among the workers, bringing a sense of order to this world.

“Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise him all creatures here below. Praise him above ye heavenly host. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”

The words brought closure to another day, but also laid the foundation for hope to come in the morning. Even this hope came not of their own strength, for they had none but the Lord’s. It carried and literally sustained them from the breaking of the dawn to the setting of the sun.

They relied not on their own strength because they had no strength left. In total dependence, they were carried in God’s unseen arms. With no roof overhead, no food to be had, not a penny to their names, and with only the clothes on their backs, they watched as he provided. They followed the Lead Shepherd because even their own blood families had abandoned them. “The little ones to him belong” was a reality.

“God bless the day when my faith shall be sight…” was now here for each surviving member of this little group of vagabonds huddled together under the night sky awaiting his promises. As these promises became life-sustaining with provisions poured out, new hope was building with each breaking dawn. And the words could almost be heard once more:

“Great is thy faithfulness! Great is thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see; all I have needed thy hand hath provided… Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!” Amen.

Kathleen Kjolhaug lives in Clearbrook, MN and attends Elim Lutheran Brethren Church

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