Refuel

Lately my weeks in Haiti have turned into blurs. It seems like I just sit down at my desk on a Monday morning and the clock is nearing noon on the last day of our school week. My off hours disappear no less slowly. I’m thankful for the opportunities that I have to get off the mission grounds and spend with friends, gatherings at the Church of Hope, as well as the evenings with my next door neighbours, but it sure makes the time fly. Umm... Is it already the 8th of November? I thought for sure it was only the 6th. Woy. It won’t be long and I’ll have to start thinking mid-term report cards!

Well, all this to say that this afternoon I decided that I was overdue for a siesta. A couple hours to do nothing but recharge.

It started with ‘Haitian food’ leftovers straight from the fridge... Contrary to Rachel’s shudder, it's my perfect cool down method. :)

Then I put my feet up and read ‘The Kite Runner' until my eyelids got heavy.

My favourite songs played softly over the hum of a fan as I journalled.

Jean Marc came over and blessed me with some acoustic worship practice.

And then I heard the soft whisper of rain out my window which beckoned me to take a walk down the hill in the cool mist.

Now I'm snacking on german pancake extras from next door.

Indeed, a refreshing day.

Tomorrow begins another week. I know without a doubt as I open the squeaky screen door leading into the classroom, the clock will hit double time and I’ll lurch into high speed mode before have time to blink. This lazy afternoon will surely be a thing of the past as I proctor math quizzes, teach what a diamond is, review the difference between a census and a sample, and practice re-grouping numbers, and that's just the beginning. The hours will blend to days, the days to a week, and before I know what has happened, I’ll be back on my couch next Sunday like a deja vu moment.

Today was a reflect and recharge kind of day. As I went about my afternoon, I got thinking about how easy it is to fall into the routine life I'm in, like all of us busy bodies are in. There is a trap set for us... To lose the bigger picture. Satan would just love to catch us up in a scheme of complacency. Where we lose the passion and simply carry out the day to day tasks without any emotion or heart. It’s a tricky thing to notice when the time is flying past us. Setting ourselves on autopilot mode is an enticing option. Forget the perspective and focus solely on getting through the 'work' and back to a comfortable chair where I don't have to think anymore... But we were made for more than that.

This week I had the privilege of sitting around a table of Godly and gifted staff members. Brad, our director, was here for a few days and we had a ‘check-in’ staff meeting on Thursday night where we discussed some of the current projects and future changes that the mission is undergoing. As I sat amongst friends, each of us with our own important role in helping the Mission of Hope thrive, I thought about how blessed I am to be in this place.

A similar circumstance happened last year around this time as the staff members gathered in prayer before the launch of HaitiOne. Those same feelings of unity and dedication to the people of Haiti and passion for reaching each and every one for Christ was so magnetically pulling. One cannot sit and listen to Brad and not feel called into action.

As he stated to our small staff group a few nights ago, our main goal here is to win Haiti for Christ. Whether it be through a church service, or a school lesson, or treating a sick patient, or sharing meals in the mountains, or praying over a newborn baby, or singing a creole song about Jesus with village children. Each choice to reach out and make a difference has an irreversible impact and no one thing is more significant than another.

And it's the same anywhere around the world. The little things. The simple choices we make carry so much more weight than we realize if only we step out of our current reality and think beyond it. These aren't moments to waste or wish away. This isn't the time to 'wait until tomorrow'. It's time to seize these days. Each fleeting moment I'm given can be a heavenly investment, or it can be gone forever.

As darkness sets in and I prepare to wash my dishes from the day and close the schoolbooks that I've planned with over the weekend, I hope to make this my prayer. I know how easy it is to make a trend out of going through the motions, but I hope tomorrow is another fresh start. I hope that I can live in the moment with a heavenly perspective, and I hope that I may steward the gifts bestowed on me in a way that glorifies the One who gave them.

Words fall short.

Now that I have seen, I am responsible, faith without deeds is dead.

Now that I have held you in my own arms, I cannot let go till you are.

These are lyrics from Brooke Fraser's song, Albertine.

This song has taken on a new meaning for me this week.

I've been given a new conviction:

I have seen.

A new burden:

I have held you in my own arms.

A new prayer:

Faith without deeds is dead.

As you read in my last post, this past Sunday I was thrilled to see Shalyn, the little girl I met from the mountains, in church with her family. After my visit with them at the end of the service, my friend Sadrac assured me that he knew where they lived beyond the mission, and we could go and visit them.

So yesterday, my prayers were answered when I got to see Shalyn and Senson with their families!

As much as I am delighted to share this will all of you, I am also writing with a heavy heart after experiencing their desperate living conditions... Words fall short of what I can express but I will do my best to tell you what I saw.

Starting from the same place where I met the children 2 weeks ago, we branched off of the mission on a small footpath and hiked up and down the steep hills to their humble dwelling. Once we reached the top of high hill, I could see in the distance a small clearing of dirt with 2 small shelters on either side. The children saw us coming and immediately began running to greet us. First was Shalyn, followed by Senson, and then their little brother Peter. We made our way back to their land where a man stood with an older boy and a woman held a little baby.

I greeted the parents and children and then took a look around me. What I saw made my heart sink. There were two run-down shelters (what used to be tents) that were weighed down with blankets, garbage bags, palm branches, and small pieces of tarp. The insides, which I got to see later on, were strengthened with long sticks along the sides, set up similar to a tee-pee.

In between the two shelters, there was a smoldering fire balancing a tin pot filled with a dark, boiling liquid. The children looked similar to the first time I saw them on the road. Dirty faces, stretched and faded clothing (two of the children didn't have any clothes on), no shoes, but despite it all, they still wore the same bright smiles. After holding their dear 1 and a half month old baby sister, I took out a few of the small toys I brought along. I had a little collection of children's clothes left in my apartment from last year that I was also able to fit some of the children in, and then we taught the kids how to play frisbee.

In my duffel bag, I had also brought some Creole bibles with me from the guesthouse, hoping that the parents would be able to use them and read to their children. Unfortunately, the parents shook their heads when I offered them the books and I was saddened to know that neither the mother nor father knew how to read. They had never gotten the chance to go to school. Upon asking more questions, we learned that the 3 oldest children are currently going to a school in Titanyen and although they can't read right now, they will hopefully learn in the months and years to come.

After sharing what we brought and cuddling with the children, we continued on our mountain trek to another family beyond the next hill. Shalyn held tightly to my hand so we took her along. We marched through some small corn crops and plantain trees and then found a similar looking clearing with a smoking fire between two run-down tents. Once again smiling faces stood waiting to greet us. There was a mother and father with 4 children and a 4-month old baby. The baby, Kaliak, was wearing a sleeper top and had her legs swaddled in a blanket (for a diaper). She was all smiles as we picked her up and sang songs.

I gave what was left of the small gifts I had in my bag, including some individual packets of gum. Upon offering bibles to them, they too refused due to their lack of reading ability, and sadly the parents explained that none of their children have been able to attend school either. The oldest boy is 12 years, followed by a 9 year old brother and 7 year old sister. My mind drifted back to my students at the mission, and my own upbringing and education growing up. How fortunate and blessed we are to grow up with a chance to go to school and become all that God has created us to be. It broke my heart to think that these children have never had the chance to learn to read, or write or have knowledge to help them have a job and raise a family when they grow up. It's like a vicious circle. These people are living in a situation that has continued for generations. They have no jobs, no money, barely enough food to survive on and no education. They are so needy.

It's such a hopeless thing. It makes you wonder how things can ever change. As I stood in silence, gazing at the conditions around me, I had a familiar feeling of despair from the first time I met the children. The questions, the confusion, the doubt all came flooding back. What did they do to deserve this? It's so unfair. And what am I supposed to do about it? I'm just one person. How can I help them?

And then felt a small hand touch mine. I looked down to see Shalyn staring up at me. She opened my hand and gave me a half-stick of her gum.

Such a simple gesture, and yet her actions spoke so much louder than words ever could. Living in a place where every morning she wakes up and wonders if she will eat. Sleeping under torn blankets and leaves that allow pouring rain to leak through. Bathing in water from muddy puddles... It humbles me that she would accept such a small gift and choose to give back so generously.

There are no words.

Only hope.

Somehow, someway.

I need to have faith that I was not brought to these children to lose hope, but to find it.

I need to have faith that I serve a God who is good and hears the prayers of His people.

I need to have faith that the One in me is greater than the one in the world.

A faith that leaves me with a responsibility of more than standing on the sidelines.

As we said our goodbyes and made our ascent back towards the mission, I watched the sun slowly disappear from the horizon. As the air cooled and the colors faded from the sky, I prayed for the Lord to be especially near to Shalyn and Senson's family. Something in me believes that He has something much greater in mind for this family than I ever could.

I can't wait to see them again.

Extra Extra!

I've got lots of news. GOOD news.

Good news is good... Puts a little spring in your step! Well, my weekend has been sprinkled with lots of it and I feel very blessed!

First things first - I have just been informed through contact with FTC that my year support has been reached! I want to take a moment to THANK each one of you who made it possible for me to serve here in Haiti this year. I can't express in words how appreciative I am for the sacrifices each and every one of you have made in order to support me. I feel so blessed by the prayers, encouraging messages and financial gifts that have been generously given to me. It is such a confirmation that this is where I need to be during this time of my life, and it wouldn't be possible without each one of you! Thank you!

Secondly - You have likely read my latest blog about my need for an ESL assistant. This has been heavy on my heart for a while now, and I have really been questioning how the Lord is going to provide in this area before I burn out completely. Well, just this past weekend I received an e-mail from Laurens' parents with a wonderful proposal. In just over a week's time they will be coming to Haiti to visit the van der Marks for 14 days. Laurens' mother contacted me sharing that based on her career experience working with special needs and ESL students, she would like to offer her assistance in the classroom while she is visiting! I can't wait to get some professional help this month and learning some good techniques myself while she is here.

I am still amazed at the timing, qualifications and willingness of the whole situation... The Lord surely knows the bigger picture and provides in perfect timing! As I stewed and stressed last week, He already had this all in mind. I guess I'm still learning that He's always got my back. When I don't see Him, He's working in the background setting up something I could have never even dreamed.

In other good news, the babies are GROWING. You may remember seeing pictures of two very frail and bony bodies at the beginning of the summer. Well, Hannah Grace and Jeremiah have literally TRANSFORMED within a matter of months. I did not even recognize them when I returned this fall. They are HUGE. Currently we have two Haitian mommies working round the clock to care for them in my old downstairs apartment. It's so nice having them downstairs and I love checking in on them. Every Sunday, Rachel and I perform our morning routine with Mommy Edi to bring the two darlings down to church. There we are ready to go!

Fortunately Rachel recently acquired a truck from the mission, so it comes in very handy as a baby carriage compared to an ATV! Rachel is the chauffeur, doing her best to make the descent as smooth as possible over the rocky terrain, and Mommy Edi and I squeeze into the passenger seat with the babies on our laps. We shield their eyes from the sun and try to keep them comfortable as their sleepy eyes stare up in a disoriented expression. It's not long though before they are snug in the baby carriers and get to enjoy the music of the service, and smiling faces of the Hope House kids. Just this past Sunday I say beside Rachel who had Hannah in her lap. Perched on Rachel's legs she lit up with the brightest smiles every time Rachel leaned in to give her a kiss. Once again I am reminded how truly blessed I am to watch such precious lives grow.

And even more good news... After the service on Sunday I was introduced by my friend, Sadrac to the family of the children I met a few weeks ago on the road (from my Here on Earth blog)!!! Yes! They were at church! I saw Shalyn again! Unfortunately Senson was sick and not able to be at church, but I met their mother and a few younger brothers and sisters. I was so thrilled to know that they have been at church and I am hoping to go and visit them at their home sometime soon. I am so grateful to the Lord for this new connection and the joy that comes in sharing His hope!

Since I'm on a roll here, let me share another really great story before I head back to marking science tests... I think last year I may have mentioned one of the Hope House boys that I have the privilege of teaching guitar to. His name is Jean Marc and he is quite a gem! Just look at that smile...

Every couple of days he comes over for a half hour or so to practice on my guitar and I sing along. Last year we would have to stop every couple of words as I corrected him on a chord or slow him down, but since I've been back he is really turning into quite a musician. I don't accredit this to any of my teaching, he is extremely dedicated and passionate about developing his talent! I am honoured that I get to watch from the sidelines what the Lord is doing. Many Sunday mornings I glow when I see him up with the worship team keeping rhythm with the tambourine or playing guitar with the soloist for special music. In addition to his growth musically, I am also been amazed at his spiritual growth over the past couple of months. He truly loves the Lord. I can see it in the way that he plays, the way he sings, the way he worships. His sincerity toward serving the Lord is so evident. Every time he comes over I encourage him on his skills and show how impressed I am, but he never takes the credit. He always gestures with a pointed finger upwards and reminds me that it's all for God. Just this past Saturday Jean Marc popped his head in my apartment after lunch and asked if he could play. I welcomed him in and asked what song we were going to start with, but he paused and said that he had a different suggestion. With genuine words, Jean Marc asked if we could begin our time by praying before he played.

My heart swelled and my eyes moistened as I humbly invited him to pray. As I sat there in the quiet of the moment with Jean Marc softly speaking words of praise and thanksgiving to His Father, Our Father, I was in awe of the opportunity that I have been given to get to know this special boy. His life is a testament to the grace of God, and I have no doubt that he is going to be a world-changer in his generation. What a blessing it is to know him, and to watch him worship so tangibly. The Lord is evidently at work in his life and I'm challenged by his love and dedication in following after all that the Lord has for him!

So there's my good news weekend in a nutshell... Hopefully it's left you with a spring in your step too! :) I'm leaving you with some snapshots of the halloween festivities and view of my apartment... Enjoy!

Reality Check

"HOW DO YOU DO IT?"

This is an echoing question that I've heard time and time again since my preparations and move to Haiti this year to teach the 9 missionary kids at the Mission of Hope.

This past weekend I got to be a part of a missionary women's retreat south of Port-au-Prince. Over 60 women gathered together from all parts of Haiti, and it was a wonderful chance to re-charge and connect with other ladies serving on the island. I got to meet some girls my age who teach in the city and other missionary children, and when I told them what I did, I heard that resounding question all over again.

So I think it's about time that I try to explain 'how I do it'....

Step 1 - PLANNING.

I know teachers may get a lot of slack for their summers and weekends off, but it is completely essential to any student progress from Monday-Friday... I am sure that any of you other teachers out there will back me up! :) During my Friday afternoons and Saturdays I spend the majority of my time going through each of the grade levels and materials, planning the activities for the coming week.

For the primary students, we are currently making our way through the basics - letters sounds and combinations, numbers patterns and operations, the colour wheel, seasons, and shapes. They are making their own books about various topics, thanks for the idea Kristine! Every other Thursday we also have a spelling quiz on the word families we have been studying over the past school weeks.

Based on the dependent needs of the younger students, especially my Loulous, I plan my week with the intention of guiding them through each and every activity.

So far, so good, but you are probably wondering what I do with my grade 5's and 8's during this time...

Let me introduce you to the guidebook. (Thank you Marybeth!)

The guidebook is the ticket to the juniors work week. Every Saturday I go through the textbooks for all of their different subjects and select a portion to be read and corresponding questions I expect them to answer. It's self-paced and directed - including homework. It's all broken down in subject categories with page numbers and so far the kids have been really good about completing it all before the week is over.

Step 2 - IMPLEMENTATION.

My weekday morning begins at 7am.

I usually wake shortly before my alarm goes off, and I arise to get myself ready for the day. By 7:45 I make my way down the balcony steps, through the van der Marks porch, and into our brand-spanking new classroom. Check out the pics (and pumpkins)!

I open up the two side doors so the wind can blow through and arrange my lessons for my 4 primary students (Ana, Mina, Bridgely and Riley).

At 7:55 I ring the school bell for the 5-minute warning. Shortly after this I begin to hear the little footsteps nearing closer outside the door and desperately hide under my desk in surrender. Haha. Just kidding.

The kids enter in spits and sputters until we've all arrived by 8am. They find their seats, with an occasional story about a tarantula in someone's bed the night before, or a wound from yesterday evenings ATV ride. The day officially begins with morning devotions. Usually we begin with some bible trivia, followed by a devotional story, reviewing our memorized verses, and a prayer time. I especially love the days we do popcorn prayers and the kids take turns to pray. Ana and Mina pray in Creole. It's so precious.

After devotions I give the juniors the go-ahead to get down to business. I'm thankful they each have a partner to work with. It makes the discussion questions and science experiments much more interactive and enjoyable. Sometimes I have to wean the grade 8 girls off of their socializing about a book they are currently reading back to their math chapter, but overall they work very well. :)

Once the juniors' pencils are moving, that's my cue to begin the calendar routine with the primary's, which then branches into writing activities and math questions.

At 10am we stop to read a chapter of Narnia - we are continuing through the series from last year and are currently on The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. The kids and I have recently been on the edge of our seat following Eustace journey through the jungle alone.

Following our reading time, we take a 30-minute recess break and re-unite again for a similar work period during the last hour and a half before our morning is over for lunch at noon.

Afternoons begin at 1pm and go until 3:30. Each weekday from Monday to Thursday I work specifically with one of the grade levels. Monday I begin with Bridgely and Riley, Tuesday I work with the grade 5's (Grayden and Sammy), Wednesday I work with the Loulous (while the remaining 6 kids are led by Michelle, our Grade 11 student, in a music program), and Thursday I spend with the grade 8 girls. It is during this time that I specialize my teaching toward the levels and ages of my kids. Science experiments, math concepts, reviewing previous work and questions from the week, etc. is all done during this afternoon block I have with the different grades. It's a much more relaxed time compared to the morning, and it gives me peace of mind, especially with the junior students, to know that they are understanding everything.

And that brings me to Friday.

Friday's are fun days. The best day of the week!

These are the days that we do large group games, art activities, go on field trips and celebrate special occasions. Tomorrow I expect to have no students in my class... Just crazy characters, in honour of Halloween on Saturday. They are all pretty excited to dress up. I am too. :)

So there's a little run down... Hm. After reviewing the past few paragraphs I understand that I may be giving you a pretty mellow picture of what my week events are actually like.

The reality check is this: From the time the kids come into the classroom in the morning, my mind hits overdrive and doesn't stop. I switch from explaining a fraction problem, to solving the dilemma of someone needing more paper in their duotangs, to reinforcing the sound that the 'h' makes, to correcting the printing of a backwards 4, to mixing colours to demonstrate how red and yellow make orange, to translating a word in Creole, to clarifying what I meant by defining terms when reading pages 18-25, to checking in on the grade 5's who are doing a taste testing experiment in the van der Mark kitchen.... can I stop now? I usually walk out of school with my brain spinning 100 miles an hour. I often walk disillusioned back to my apartment and just sit. Adrenaline needs a few minutes to cool down.

And then that age-old question finds a little nook in my brain... How do I do it?

Or better yet, AM I doing it?

And I drown in weakness...

What am I doing here!?!

I think the question here is not that. Nor, how do I do it? Nor, am I doing it? But WHO is doing it?

Please don't let it be me. I'm way in over my head.

And yet the One who has pulled me through every single time is here with me again. He can be trusted. He gives me everything I need for the task. The Lord is clearly at work in our schoolhouse, keeping me patient and sane, and guiding the kids along in their respective work, helping them understand new concepts and giving them grace for one another.

A few weeks ago Cheryl approached me and asked what I thought about bringing in an assistant to help me. Someone to share the load with. Up until this point, I have decided to stay on my own. This is partly because of my own perfectionism and pride. To bring in a new person could potentially be a just what we need, or it could lead me into having to oversee and manage even more people, making my task bigger than it already is. You see, I like things a certain way. I would rather just do it my way, by myself, then have to manage another person beside me. And yet the more I think about the dynamics of all of this, the more I realize that this decision can't be about what is best for me, it has to be about what is best for the kids.

I have 7 wonderful Canadian kids. I love to teach them. I love to watch what they are learning at different stages. I love to challenge them. I love to see them strategize and solve problems. I love to laugh with them. I love that I get to be their teacher.

I have 2 adorable Haitian girls. It's been a dream of mine for years to teach little orphans, and here I am in a position to give them the foundation where they will build their education. I love to watch them absorb what I teach like a sponge. I love to see them eager to start the day as they dash to their desks. I love to be their teacher.

But the dilemma that I am quickly realizing is that I can't do both.

Especially due to the lack of English the girls know, I find the repetition in instructions I have to give them, the constant attention in their independent work activities, and the continuous reinforcement of simple tasks is too great for me to do alone while juggling 7 other students. And the bottom line is that I have never had any ESL training in my life. Everything I am doing with them is simply a desperate attempt to turn them into Canadian kids. There has got to be strategies, techniques, tools to help kids catch on... I've just never been taught in that department.

The Lord has been very gracious to me in managing all of my students, but I feel that it's time to ask for help.

I want each of my kids to get the best education they have ever had. They are amazing and they deserve the best. It's a privilege for me to play a part in their learning, in who they are and who they will become, and it's also my prayer that the Lord will be preparing someone very special to join this team, this mission that I'm on in educating these dear Haitian twins.

Over the coming weeks, Laurens and Cheryl and I will be looking for a qualified English as a Second Language teacher to work with Ana and Mina daily, catching them up to the English language and the grade one curriculum. It will likely be a 3-4 month commitment.

Thank you for your prayers at this time as we discern who will come, and that the Lord would provide a perfect fit. I know that the Lord has someone very special in mind, and I am trusting Him that all of the dynamics will be smooth for all of us. Please feel free to contact me if you know of someone who fits the description to work with Ana and Mina. I will be sure to keep you updated on this journey!

Here on Earth.

Come for a walk with me.

It's evening and I am taking my routine power walk down the mission hill and back again.

The sunset beckons me. Vibrant colours are cast across the sky and reflected off of the Caribbean Sea. It's like a dance, every second glance I make upwards is a new extraordinary picture of beauty. I have to slow my pace to take in the majesty of it all without tripping. But soon I slow for another reason - Up ahead are 2 children who I have never seen before.

She stands on the edge of a dusty footpath branching in from the mountains to the gravel road. Her frizzy hair is pulled tightly into short black frizzy knots. Little specks of dirt and string are caught in her part, evidence of minimal attention from a caregiver. Her oversized clothes hang like curtains on her bony body. The dusty dress she wears is faded and worn with holes. Her back is exposed because the buttons used to fasten it together are gone. Her feet are dirty and calloused, she has been shoeless for a very long time.

Her little brother stands nearby. His chocolate-brown skin is faded from the dust that sticks to his cheeks and arms. Even in the scorching heat, his hands are chapped and dry. He wears a stretched-out t-shirt that hangs below his waist. He has no shorts or shoes.

I make small talk with the limited Creole I know, gathering basic information about them.

Her name is Shalyn (about 7 years old) and his name is Senson (about 5). Their baby sister stands from a distance and watches. They look up at me with smiling faces and hopeful eyes.

They are more precious than I can express in words.

Shaylyn carries a coffee can on her head. It's dented and rusty. Senson has a small oil can in his hand. After learning that they live beyond the hills above the mission, I ask them what they are doing with their buckets. They reply that they are getting water, and then motion toward 2 small puddles. I try to swallow as I glance over to the swampy water they are referring to. This is the water that has collected from the rain showers last night. The water has collected in the low, muddy spots off of the dusty pathway and has been drying up all day in the hot sun. Flies swarm above what's left of the brown cloudy water. It's filthy.

I try in vain to hide my shock. How these small children have travelled who knows how far to collect water such as this is beyond my comprehension. I ask them what they are going to use it for. They say they are going to bathe in it. They will undoubtedly take it home and sponge bath in the hot, muddy, bacteria-infested water.

I feel completely helpless. I am repulsed by this reality. I've heard stories like this told to me before. I've seen pictures and watched video clips expressing this kind of need, but even in the many months I've been at the mission in Haiti, this is the first real encounter I've had with this kind of desperation.

I smile and take the children in my arms, as I try to cover up the helplessness I am feeling in my heart.

What do I do? The sun is setting and the children show signs of needing to get their water and return to their home. I search for hope. I rack my brain for some kind of solution to the terrible circumstances they are living in. All I can come up with is an invitation to for them to come to church on Sunday. I tell them about the mission and the church and how they are welcome to come back on Sunday morning to see me again and learn about Jesus. I tell them Jesus loves them. In the back of my mind I wonder if they have a clue what I am saying or if they know who I am talking about. They respond with happy smiles, reciprocating words and gentle hands wrapped around my arm.

Then we both let go and I turn to continue down my path.

As I walk away, I question God. Where are you? How is this fair? How can children in North America have everything, and these children have nothing? What did these children do to deserve such a life? How can I help them? I go over possibilities in my mind... Maybe I could bring them up to my apartment and feed them, maybe I could see if they could enroll at the School of Hope, maybe I could give them some money for clean water and food at the market...?

And then my mind is filled with an even more horrible reality... The fact that the story of these children is the same story of hundreds, thousands, even millions of children around the globe. Classified as impoverished not just financially or materially, but emotionally, physically, educationally, spiritually, and the list goes on and on. Children who are written off by the world. Children who never sleep with a pillow. Children who not only have no parents, but are the primary caregivers for their younger brothers and sisters. Children who never know where their next meal is coming from.

And yet miraculously, these are the same children whose weathered expressions change instantly when they see a kind face. Their eyes light up. Their shiny white teeth become exposed in joyful smiles. They wear their heart on their sleeves. They openly embrace a stranger. They love without holding back.

As I make my way back up the hill after this heavenly encounter, my heart breaks. I struggle to understand where God is in the lives of these innocent children. I question how He can allow it. I am so confused.

And then I stop. I turn to face the extravagant light across the sky. I see the shadows coming over the mountains and I watch as the colour canopy transforms over me. Once again I am amazed at the beauty of creation and the presence of the Lord that I feel from witnessing His glory. Kings and celebrities can afford just about anything, anytime. And yet they don't have to pay a penny for this majesty, something more beautiful than it all. Somewhere in some high-scale building in the lit up lights of the city, they get to witness it without a price tag. And somewhere in a barren field under a tin roof held up by dry tree branches, little children return from their water trip and ponder the beauty around them. He is here. He is hope.

They may not have shoes, or buttons on their dress, or someone to brush their hair, or clean water to bathe in, but the poverty they are experiencing cannot prevent them from witnessing the beauty of His creation, their Father's world. These children may not have much, or anything, but the Lord is just as near to them as He is to me in this moment. He is shining His light on them. The warmth of the sun is a testament to His love pouring down with His constant presence. They may be far off from where I think they should be, but it's my prayer tonight that they would know a perfect Love. It's my prayer that they could lean on a Father that has a purpose and plan for their lives, and that they would be safe in His hand.

And if they don't know this truth yet, it's also my prayer that I may be a vessel in lighting a pathway to hope... The same hope they watch as the sun descends. The same hope I see when I look into their smiling face. A gift beyond any treasure here on earth.