Where do I begin?

I can't do a play-by-play for you like I have done in the past on mission trips. Since I didn't have my laptop with me, I wasn't able to sit down and write out everything that happened every day, which was a lot of stuff. Quite honestly, at the end of each day I was completely spent. I was grateful to just take a shower, lather up in bug repellent, crawl under my mosquito net and crash.

Over the next several days I will attempt to at least give you glimpses of what Haiti was like for me. How I know you were covering us in prayer, for which I am so very grateful. How I do see hope for Haiti in the pouring out of God's spirit on His people, who can then extend that love to a heart-broken and weary nation. How my own heart has been ripped right out of my chest and scattered all over an orphan compound 1500 miles from here.

I've been crying off and on since I walked in my house last night. I cried as I took a shower, knowing that I could stay in there as long as I wanted to without fear of mosquitoes and with unlimited hot water. I cried when I lay down next to my husband in my warm comfortable bed thinking of the thousands of people sleeping outside on the ground because they either have no home or are too afraid to go back inside. I cried thinking of my three kids sleeping comfortably in their own rooms, thinking of the 25 bunk beds we had crammed into a two-room orphanage earlier in the day.

Beds that are a vast improvement over the urine-stained, bug-infested mattresses that the children used to sleep on, on the floor. Praise God for his vision of Sweet Sleep and for Jen Gash who obediently answered the call. She is an amazing woman and I am so privileged to call her my friend.

I cried when I got to hug each of my children, thinking of all the babies I left behind who can't hug their mommies anymore. I can't even write that without the tears starting to flow.

I cried watching Bryant eat his leftover scrambled eggs, sausage and waffle with strawberries and whipped cream for breakfast. That's what he asked for, and that's what he got. And I thought of this.

This is what the kids eat twice a day, and they are just grateful to have food in their bellies.

As I write, Bailey is upstairs taking a long hot bath. And I cry thinking of this.
These kids actually have the opportunity to shower. It is outside and they do it in groups, but at least they have the ability to do so. There are so many who do not.

I weep thinking of my John and how deeply he touched my heart. His face haunts me and the depth of pain in his eyes has left me permanently scarred. I love that child and chances are I will never see him again, never even know what happens to him. I can't even think about it or I am overwhelmed with sorrow.

The questions to sort out are where to go from here. God has been changing me over the past couple of years. Lately He has been turning up the heat even more. I believe He wants me to feel this pain, to let it in. I believe He wants me to see the world the way He sees it. I believe He wants that for all of us.

Fair warning. I'm kind of a mess right now. And that's okay. Don't pray for me to get over it. Obviously I need to get to a point where I'm not bursting into tears every few minutes, but that will come. I don't want to get better by forgetting. I want to get better by putting my pain and faith into action and making a difference one step at a time.

I hope you'll come too.