"Steak and Pasta, baby."

Coming in close second only to Mark Sorensen’s poorly executed Creole last summer of “Bon Sparge!” instead of the correct “Bon swa!”….was July Team Member, Justin Kirke’s attempted greetings out the back of our pickup on the way to day two at Bighouse.

“How do you say, ‘What’s up’ again?” –Justin

“Sak pase…” –Me

(a few minutes later, and yelled loudly at passersby)

“SOCKAPLAZA!!!!....I mean….SACKAPLAYSA!!!!....I mean….oh man, what is it??” -Justin

(a few hours later, on the drive back from Bighouse, and yelled just as loudly)

“STEAKANPASTA!!....wait…..seriously, what is it??...” –Justin

“No, yeah, that’s it. Steak and pasta, baby, steak and pasta…The Haitian greeting” –Carrie

Eh. It's a wonder we can get anyone to talk to us...

Last night we wrapped the day up with the Haitian dish that is only best described as cornmeal-grits-with-a-meat-layer-and-ketchup-squirts. Downed it. Then we divided up the next day’s supplies, took much needed showers, then headed up for devotion/debriefing on the roof.

We sat in a circle under the stars out from under the covering so that we could feel the slight breeze, and sang songs with our voices and the guitar carrying our praises across the rooftops in the area. Songs whose lyrics say, “I once was fatherless, a stranger with no hope, your kindness wakened me, wakened me from my sleep…” never mean as much as they do when you’ve left the company of those without parents. Those who share beds made for one. Those who love so freely.

We sang “How He Loves Us,” surely uniting in reflection of the day, though not having to acknowledge it. Then we talked about what it means to be rich. Shared stories and thoughts and things to talk to God about and things to be aware of. And then we prayed together. And the end of the day, that moment, felt good. Felt like quality. Excited that we get a few more end-of-the-days to do that:)

Today at Bighouse was very productive. Twelve of us painted some of the new classrooms and repainted some of the old ones, while 4 of us took new heights, weights, and picture updates of all the children. However, our scale (we found out later, after many failed attempts to create a mathematical formula to understand the conversions and how the weights might be off)….we realized the scale was broken. So that part, we get to do all over again tomorrow. But I’m pretty confident that weight has been put on at Bighouse. It’s encouraging, to say the least, when proof of conquering the lie of hunger and the hopelessness that accompanies it is tangibly evident. We stand against injustices, and creatively turn them around. Lord willing.

We told the story of baby Moses this afternoon and the kids each molded a basket out of rice krispy treats with a teddy graham in the middle for Moses. They loved it:) They also loved when Anna and Carrie acted out the story and stuck one of the kids in a wheel barrow as we “shook him through the waves through the scary, scary river!!” Precious.

Another hike forever and a year back to our vehicles (that could make it an even shorter distance today because of ALL the rain we got last night). But this hike is beautiful and fun, and the rain made it cooler…and no one complains about that.

Judelain’s doctor’s appointment is planned out and his hernia surgery will be on the 22^nd. Tomorrow we go to Bighouse for the morning to finish measurements and painting, and tomorrow afternoon we head to (what I was corrected and told to pronouce) Dalvaje Orphanage to meet them for the first time.

Last night, a theme in conversation was changing the world with small acts of great love. Putting our chances on the truth of a backwards Kingdom and message. Where the fools are wise, the poor are rich, the weak are strong, and the small acts of great love are restoring the people of God.

Hoping your days are backwards, from Haiti,

Britney