Who Am I ... Haiti Day 8 (The Final Day) By Cortney Donelson

Luke 18:24-25 (NIV)
“Jesus looked at him and said, ‘How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!  Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”

Source: Unknown

Who am I…

that I have a house with air conditioning and running water?

that I have a savings account strictly for emergencies?

that I can go to sleep at night without worrying about killer snakes or malaria-infested mosquitoes?

that I can attend any church I choose and worship in any way I desire?

that I am an American with freedoms and privileges about which most people in the world only dream?

Who am I that God would sacrifice His only Son in order to save me?

If you have ever served the extremely poor or done any mission work, you may understand the powerful yet cautious thanksgiving attached to this devotion. My prayer is that you do not walk away from this last devotion inspired by my time in Haiti thinking I am not grateful for all I have or that our American society is ultimately bad. My goal is to shed some light on the culture shock I experienced upon my return from Haiti and to challenge you to look at our lives in this country through different lenses – maybe even Jesus’ lenses – for just a moment.

In Haiti, I had no television, working mobile phone, or car. I did have my bible, journal, pen, and quiet time. I lost the fast-paced society of Facebook, texting, movies on demand, and pizza delivery, and what I found was God. In the evenings, instead of watching the next episode of the latest reality show, I sat on the roof of our guest house and watched the lights of Port-Au-Prince flicker in the valley below as I prayed, wrote devotions, and listened to God. Instead of texting and emailing people about superficial events and filling up my schedule, I was having deeply spiritual conversations with others – face-to-face. Rather than exhausting myself by driving around from activity to activity, I was serving others with hard labor and feeling more energized than ever before.

Source: Unknown, Aerial View of
Port-Au-Prince, Haiti

However, the significance of what I had learned about my relationship with God did not register with my Americanized ignorance until the flight home. As the plane lifted off on our way from Port-Au-Prince to Miami, I looked out of the window. I was struck by what I saw as I left a country I would soon miss on a very spiritual level. Below the plane, the only color I saw was grey. Many streets are gravel and cement. There are stone walls lining most roads. Residential and commercial areas are gated and walled off from the streets. Many buildings are still in disrepair from the earthquake. Streets wind in every direction with no symmetrical or geometric pattern. Green grass is simply non-existent in many places. The roads flood within minutes of heavy rain. The city is still recovering from storm and earthquake damage, and the region does not have the financial resources to recover quickly.

  

Source: Unknown, Aerial View of Miami, FL

One hour and 37 minutes into my flight back to the United States, I was stunned again. I happened to look out my seat window at the exact same altitude that I had leaving Haiti as we descended into the Miami area. The world below was nothing like what I saw above Haiti. The disparity broke my heart. Miami was an easel of blues and greens. Gorgeous ocean-view homes and buildings lined the beaches. Lush and manicured lawns with beautifully landscaped swimming pools dotted the earth in perfectly squared off neighborhoods. The roads were expertly paved and flowers bloomed everywhere. The colorful city of Miami looked like a postcard photograph.

So why do I miss Haiti? The answer is complicated. First, I miss the people. In the United States, I see deeply spiritual relationships dwindling and being exchanged for superficial online “friendships.” This is not the case in Haiti. Spending quality time in the presence of family and friends is part of the culture. Through the Christians I met, I realized God comes first. I don’t mean first like God comes first with me right now. I mean first as in, no one else and nothing else is even on the list. The passion these believers have for the Lord is comparable to nothing I had ever experienced. I think I know why: God is God in Haiti.

“Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,

though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen

and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.” (Habakkuk 3:17-18)

For several weeks after my return, I left my phone in my house. I avoided television. I was convinced I was going to maintain the intimacy I had found with God in Haiti. Sadly, I didn't  After a couple of weeks, my phone went back in my pocket, I started checking my Facebook account multiple times per day, and my quiet times dwindled. So while I am grateful for all this “stuff” I have as a middle-class American, I am simultaneously frightened to be living in a society that places a huge premium on individuality, material possessions, and success. In the Book of Luke, Jesus explained to the rich ruler what was required to follow Him – sell all his possessions. He didn't.“Jesus looked at him and said, ‘How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!  Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” I get it now.

Money has not become God. They have little. Work has not become God. There is little. Huge houses or multiple luxury cars have not become God. They have neither. Certainly success has not replaced God – not in a place where the United Nations is currently deployed just to keep peace and most people earn a few dollars per day. Yet, the Haitian believers are full of joy – joy in the Lord. They rejoice in just knowing God – knowing Him on a deeply intimate level. In watching and listening to them, it seems they understand that He is all they need. Ironically I was able to experience this intimacy too, simply because I was … well, living simply. God was all I had.

I became painfully aware that my relationship with God was enhanced when my normal distractions – television, computers, Smartphones, and busy schedules – were eliminated. While I am thankful and feel blessed to live in such a way that I have these things at my disposal, I am fearful too. I experienced first-hand what those things do to my spiritual relationship with my Savior: they weaken it. For the first time in my life, I felt every bit like the foolish rich man from the Bible. I am not wealthy compared to many Americans; however, compared to most of the world, I am absolutely in danger of being the rich man who cannot give up his wealth to follow Jesus. That is incredibly scary. For the first time, I understand how some people have made the decision to sell everything they own in order to serve others in long-term mission projects or give up lofty salaries for less-paying jobs in ministry. I get it now.

No, I do not place all of the blame for my lack of deep intimacy with God on the American Dream; I am making the choices that are currently limiting my relationship with the Lord. Jesus’ next line in Luke is,“What is impossible with man is possible with God.” With the Lord’s help, I can make the right choices. Yet there is an inherent challenge within the “two-sided coin” of living with plenty. Sometimes, I think it’s all too easy for us to think the “plenty” is enough, and the next thing we know, the “plenty” has perhaps replaced God. When that happens, it seems to me that we are the ones living in poverty...

Prayer – Lord, lead me to You and don’t let me choose the wrong path. I pray You give me wisdom and discernment to know when I am losing the “rich man’s battle.” I want You and nothing else. Bless me only in ways that bring glory to You and bring me closer to Your presence. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.

© 2013 As A Clay Jar. All rights reserved.