I’ve struggled with how to with how to describe our time in Port Au Prince.

Our trip into town was short-lived… Enough time to attend

church, pick up and drop off some supplies,

and get back on the road again to be home in Dessalines before dark.

Really, only enough time to take in the destruction,

not feel terribly overwhelmed, and experience one of

the most moving and hope-filled church services of my life.

(and loud………man, can the Haitians sing!)

First of all, I’m happy to say the city'

seems like it’s returning to ‘normal.’

Or as normal as a city can be after being hit with

one of the worst disasters of our time.

To report on what we saw for those who are curious…

I noticed no hard/bad smells in the air.

(as were reported the weeks following the earthquake)

The concrete dust has also seemed to have settled.

Camp sites are visible on most corners and open lots.

These sites are filled with tents – commercial and makeshift –

and many (many, many) people.

Most Haitians are still sleeping outdoors –

afraid to re-enter their home even if it is still standing.

Food and water are both scarce and expensive.

Open selling on the streets has returned.

The surreal part, to me, is that while I imagined

the entire city to be sort of in rubble….

Or even ‘pancaked’ – it’s really not that way.

There are parts of the city that were mostly destroyed.
But up Delma (a main avenue in Port Au Price)

and much of the other areas the destruction seems quite random.

We’d pass a HUGE building down

and then the next 7 or 8 buildings might have some cracks

or might even from the exterior look fine.

It was really sort of strange.

And not at all what I expected.

I will say this, the damage is unsettling.

My stomach turned to knots thinking of those

lost to the concrete and rubble….

And also to those still surviving the shock

and managing the pain.

My heart cries out for them.

At risk of over-sharing images which might be more pain filled and dark,

I’ve decided to limit this post to a glance of the city.

The news is full of images more detailed and more gruesome.

I want to instead focus on the hope-filled spirit of the Haitian people

A spirit which reminds me God is always near –

Even when it seems the light is dimmest.

My heart grieves for Haiti.

On a personal note...

I stood in rubble of a house completely in pieces.

The rubble coming up around my ankles...

A Haitian boy who was standing near told me a child had died in the home.

Right about that time I spotted a small teddy bear on the ground.

I had a really good cry.

Having a small child myself - my heart felt broken...

I think I left a few pieces of it in the rubble.

A sobering fact I'm okay with -- I don't ever want to forget how I felt....

moved. broken. hope.

In the words of John Hays Jr.,

and in the spirit of who and what I believe God to be,

“let us mourn with those who mourn.

Perhaps we together shall be comforted.

And together build again.”

.