Jwaye Noel: 2.24.10

Hello friends near and far-

Jwaye Noel & Merry Christmas. I wanted to share a few thoughts, but this email ended up getting long and I don't have the time to edit. Pretend it's a blog and pour yourself some tea/hot coco/chocolate. :)

The last few days have been such a complete blessing. Being in Haiti always shifts my perspective in the best possible way. “Joy to the World” seems real and palpable here, yet it is so absurd because this joy happens in the midst of piles of rubble, with friends who may not eat today, or lost limbs in the earthquake, with children who are very malnourished, yet smiling. It is such a paradox. I also find myself so grateful for small things that I normally take for granted...hot showers, smooth roads, quiet...and the Haiti people continually school me in gratitude. I need this! And I  have so much to learn from them!

We have been busy working at the Heartline clinic (no moms in labor yet). My role is usually translator and baby-holder, and yet I've managed to sneak in several hundred Christmas crafts with the ladies and their children. (!)  Yesterday we made cut-out cookies with the teen moms and decorated them with colored frosting. They were SO proud, so serious, so much fun! None of them had ever done this before...the simple act of making Christmas cookies together. The babies napped and played on the ground (and probably ate a little frosting!) But there was something lovely about making memories with these girls who have such heavy burdens, and watching them get to be teenagers again! I will post pictures when I have time!

Last night we went to a candlelight Christmas eve service. For most of the service I held a little 9lb baby named Amir. His 16 year old mom was sitting on my right. (I have her permission to share her story). She was raped and almost died of preeclampsia. He was born by c-section after she was found seizing in the street (for more of the story on Mari Carmelle and Amir, and the other teen moms we are working with, check out www.teenmomhome.blogspot.com).

Something about holding him, feeling the flutter of his tiny heart against my chest and knowing their story, made the Christmas story come to life. I pictured Mary as a pregnant teenager, silly and shy like Mari Carmelle, alone and misunderstood...likely giving birth alone, since Joseph was not yet her husband. If I were God I'd have chosen a sensible, experienced mother in her 30's to parent my son...but God chose someone like Mari Carmelle.... I'll admit that I don't really “get” the Christmas story (or much of how God works most of the time!!!).

Mari Carmelle's cookies

But as we were sitting there I got to thinking about these candles we were holding—the light so fragile, the slightest miscalculated sigh could wipe out the flame or drip wax all over the fancy dresses around me. The candlelight was nothing compared to the fluorescent lights above us that could illuminate the whole room, and yet the candlelight was enough to make even the darkest places seem cozy.

Melody, a 3 year old Haitian girl was sitting on my left and desperately wanted to “help” hold my candle. I didn't really want myself or Amir to be dripped in wax, but I wasn't able to manage both so I let go and I let Melody hold that candle. Boy, did she take her job seriously and raised it up above her head as we sang “Silent Night” Her face shown with joy and pride at being entrusted with that candle (and we all left the church wax-free). But it was in that moment that it all clicked for me....the vulnerable little light, that shines in the darkness...the fragile flame, the tiny baby Amir...this crazy messed up fragile world that we live in. My heart too, swelled with gratitude and thanksgiving for what Christmas means....Emmanuel God with us.

Melody

Last night, as I was reading my advent book, I was reminded that it's only when we are weary and poor in spirit, that God can touch us with hope. But I hate being weary and poor. Oscar Romero once said, “It is only the poor and hungry, those who know they need someone to come on their behalf, who can celebrate Christmas”. Being in Haiti for Christmas the past several years has put me in touch with a different sort of Christmas. Haiti teaches me to let go, to trust, to live in the present, even when it is full of paradox.

The genealogy of Jesus reveals that God chooses to work with us as we are,--using our weaknesses, even more than our strengths, to fulfill the divine purpose. I really don't get this. Yet at tonight's vigil, in a world of hungry, broken people and buildings....a world as cold and cruel and unjust as it was at the time of Jesus' birth in a stable, we desire something better. And in desiring it, we come to believe that it is possible. We await its coming in hope....

My advent reading said, “Mary's Magnificat reminds us that what we most value, all that gives us status-power, pride, strength and wealth-can be a barrier to receiving what God has in store for us. If we have it all, or think we can buy it all, there will be no Christmas for us. If we are full of ourselves, there will be no room for God to enter our hearts at Christmas.” I know that there have been many years where I didn't have room or time to really think about Christmas. But Haiti helps me with that too.

This morning O and I went on a 5 mile run with Beth—out to the US Embassy and back-- and in most ways this is just another ordinary Saturday for Haitians. Very few have the means for dinner, let alone gifts/decorations. But the weather was cool and overcast and the run felt great. There was no tree, no presents, no busy-ness, no snow, no “power/wealth/barrier” and yet it FELT like Christmas.

After we arrived home we donned the Santa hat and distributed some very small gifts among the workers at Heartline and the teen moms who are living at the hospital. The joy was palpable...and contagious. Sherline, one of the workers, made everyone get quiet and gave a little heartfelt speech about how much she appreciated us coming for Christmas.  Then the ladies cooking next to her broke out in song and I couldn't help but start dancing! (The "Dance of Joy" happens even in Haiti). It's not that I'm not grateful for my life in the States, because wow, I totally am, but sometimes I think all our “stuff” keeps us away from the real meaning of Christmas, or from really being present to what we are experiencing in each moment. The noise and busy-ness of holidays in the States have kept me from seeing the hope that light shines in the darkness—not blaring away all the shadows, but flickering bravely against the dark...just enough so that we can see what is before us and know that we are not alone.

We're getting ready to host Christmas dinner for the teen moms and the Heartline staff, so I'm going to sign off for now. Thanks for reading these ramblings. Thanks for journeying with us in Haiti, where we are so privileged to spend the Holidays, thanks for loving us from afar!

Merry Merry Christmas to you and yours!!
with Joy and Gratitude and Hope-
Sarah D

Merry Christmas, love Eden/Santa