Wednesday afternoon we received a phone call from my momma that my dad was in the ER and had suffered a heart attack. They were taking him back for a heart cath when she called. We learned later that his bypass surgery last year was not as successful as they had hoped. One side of his heart didn’t graft well and was barely getting blood. This is the reason that he didn’t fully recover like we thought he should have. He also had 100% blockage in the main artery that goes to the heart. It took 4 stents to open it up. Though they tried -they weren’t able to fix the other places that they operated on last year.
We sent a message to MAF to see if they could fly and pick us up. We didn’t hear back right away as it was after working hours. Afraid that they would be fully booked, we started looking for plan B. We decided to rent a truck and head 4 hours to Port-de-Paix and load a bus there that would then take us 6 hours to Port-au-Prince.
We began on our journey to PDP around 8:30pm. After an hour and a half our truck had broken down 8 times. We were sitting by the side of the road praying about what we should do. Even though we were on the road all that time we knew we weren’t but a few miles from the Mole. There was no way this truck was going to make it.
So we decided it was better to head back before we got stranded in the middle of nowhere. We jimmy-rigged the tap-tap and started back. The truck continued to break down every few minutes. After a while Jose and I decided it would just be quicker to walk home in the dark! So we did.
We walked alone in complete darkness for about 25 minutes. I just kept thinking – where are you God? We honestly weren’t mad. We were confused. I was sad. I remember my dad telling me that he wanted to leave this world in a Blaze of Glory…gaining ground for the Kingdom. I know that’s exactly what he’s spent his life doing in Haiti. I prayed for God not to take him. Yet I knew there was no place my dad would rather be….to be in the presence of the King. He has been a good and faithful servant. My prayers began to change as I walked….Lord just don’t let him die until I can see him - and say goodbye.
As we reached the top of the mountain that overlooked the Mole we decided to rest a bit. There is a cement ledge there – it’s actually part of the road the leads into the Mole.
As soon as we sat down – Jose’s phone got a signal. We had a message from MAF. They were making a special trip to come and get us at 8am. Praise the Lord!
When the stress of what to do began to lift off my shoulders – I couldn’t help but notice the faint lights of the city. Yes, you could see the street lamps from the top of the mountain. But those aren’t the lights I am talking about.
All along the mountainside there were very faint lights glowing in little mud huts. Jose looked at me and said – “I think some of those are the solar lights we gave out a few months ago”.
I sat on the ledge and tears began to flow down my cheeks. We gave those lights out and told them that Jesus was the light. We told them He’s the way out of darkness. We told them when they look at those lights - remember that the Presence of the Lord is here – right in their home.
I had wondered where God was as we walked the road in darkness. Then I realized - I’m the reason it happened. God never abandoned plan A. I did. I didn’t wait for Him. I didn’t trust Him enough to let Him figure it out on His own. I chose the beaten path when He had a chartered plane waiting for me.
As I looked over the Mole – the faint lights gleaming from the homes — I thought – There He is. There He is. In that home. In that home. In that home. The very lights WE gave to minister to the people were used in that moment to minister to ME! To remind me that Jesus was right here.
And although we walked in darkness for a time…..we never walked alone.