WE JUST SHOWED UP

MARK FULTON

The road through the countryside began as a paved, two to three lane thoroughfare, with the appropriate number of holes and missing pieces that reminded us that we were in Haiti.  As the trip continued in our old, yellow school bus, the road began to narrow and we turned onto a small gravel road which quickly turned into an even smaller dirt path that was slightly narrower than the bus.  The 25 Haitians and Americans in the bus were constantly informed to beware of the tree limbs that shoved their way into the windows of the bus as we passed down the narrow path.   An occasional yelp could be heard as someone was smacked with a limb when the person ducked too late.  After nearly 3 hours on the road, we arrived at a mud-walled, dirt-floored, thatched-roof structure that was about the size of a typical US family room.  We piled into the structure with our suitcases full of medicine, food and medical supplies and began treating the individuals who waited hours for a few small plastic sacks of what was mostly medicine that could be bought over-the-counter in any U.S. pharmacy.  The malnourished, the infirmed, the ones whom we could not give any relief with our limited supplies, we attempted to connect with local clinics.  We bathed each person in prayer and sent them on their way, wondering if we really had made any difference.  At the end of the day, the pastor of the church appeared with bowls heaping with rice and beans, cooked all day for us, with a huge side of love.  As we finished, he hugged each visitor and thanked us for coming.  When he came to me, he embraced me for what seemed like minutes, and said “thank you” at least 15 times.  The next statement from him made it all seem worthwhile:  “I have been a pastor at this church for many years.  This is the first time we have had foreign visitors since I have been here.  I didn’t know if the Church of God or anyone cared that we are here.  Now I know that they do!”  I don’t know that he cared that we were later than we were expected to arrive.  I don’t know that he cared that we ran low on medicine after such a short time.  I don’t know that he cared that we left his church a mess.  I just think he was happy that we showed up!  What a humbling learning experience it was for me!  It doesn’t matter what qualifications I have to preach, to teach, to build, to give medicine, or to dress a wound.  What matters is that we follow the call that Christ gives each of us and show up, with our heart full of Him.  He will pass out the hope after we arrive in His name.

Kathy and I pray that we can continue to do that when we minister in Haiti.  I pray that you do the same, wherever God asks you to go.