"O Lord my God, when I, in awesome wonder," rang out in the languages of English, Creole and French. We all stood at night, Haitians and Americans, in a roofless building celebrating God. The sparkling stars appeared to touch the earth. A sense of beautiful Presence came among us. A tear fell on my face and as a plea rose from my heart," O God please, help me never forget this moment."
Many moments later (add twenty five years), I was driving my visiting Haitian friend 490 miles for a weekend to enable him to preach in a small congregation of Briton, Michigan. As I was planning the weekend, thoughts invaded my mind, "Are you sure you should go that far? Is it wise to travel to Michigan in January? You may get caught in a snow storm on route 80. In the midst of doubt we traveled through Pennsylvania, and Ohio to Michigan.
Upon reaching our destination, I took a walk. Breathing in the crisp 14 degree night air, I noted the rising moonbeams simulating dappled diamonds scattered in the snow. With deep breaths, I thanked God for the trip inhaling the beauty.
The next morning during church I listened as Pastor Laguerre shared of being tenth out of twelve children, raised in a family in which some days he had no rice to eat, his patched tattered clothing left him feeling shamed as he was called names by classmates even having a teacher asking him, "Budlaire what do you have on your feet? Go home until you can find proper shoes!" Poverty of heart and mind grew within him.
He shared how one day an American couple {aka my husband and I} traveled to the Haitian village he called home, spending much time with him, playing with him, teaching him songs about Jesus, telling about a God who loved enough to become poor. The American man Jack while packing to return to the states called,"Budliare come here." Budlaire ran over.
Jack threw Budlaire Laguerre some type of cloth football. "Merci, Thank you," said Budlaire as he caught it. He unfolded it to find a pair of pants. Pants with no patches. Pants with no holes. Poverty of heart began to lift. Sauntering around his home town donning his new pants he smiled. He held his head up as he walked to school. Was shame fleeing?
God had provided for him. Now twenty five years later he reconnected to Jack and I through facebook, he was a pastor, preacher, husband, and father ministering to the poor in Haiti. Seeking to lift the poverty of heart for an entire nation.
Completing his preaching he sat down. The Michigan pastor stood announcing, " Let's end the service with singing, "How Great Thou Art."
Tears formed as I sang recalling the Haitian night sky, "O Lord my God when I in awesome wonder consider all the universe displayed."
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