Compassion for Haiti

"Harassed and Helpless, like sheep without a shepherd"   Matthew 9
             

It was a few months after the earthquake in Haiti when our response team landed in Port-au-Prince.  All of the news reports and security briefs did not prepare us for what we encountered.  As we exited the terminal, we were faced with thousands of Haitians pressing against a chain-link fence that surrounded the airport.  Everyone was begging for just one dollar.  “Carry your bags...one dollar, get your cab...one dollar, please....one dollar.”  As I looked across the ascending landscape all I could identify was a crumbling city and miles of makeshift camps. Our Church sponsored a school on the upper ridge and a partially erected shed on their property would serve as our headquarters.  Our mission was to connect with the local missionary, the school and a group of Pastors to assess what resources we needed from the States to provide continued support to their specific recovery effort. 

By this time most of the deceased had been collected and buried; however, there were an estimated 100,000 bodies still in the rubble. Everywhere we turned, humanitarian aid supplies were being sold.  There were shoes, cloths, tents, tarps and even NATO supplied water being sold for two dollars per 20 oz bag.  We spent our first few days working with the Pastors as they led “grass root” efforts in clearing away the debris from buildings.  I could not distinguish the Church from the long row of fallen buildings.  There weren't any contractors, inspectors or permits.  No heavy equipment, tractors or jack hammers; just lines of people swinging hammers, pulling out rebar and remixing concrete for a new wall. I was in shock as the day passed and we were still standing in front of a fallen building and had made no progress.  We needed wreckers, bulldozers and dump trucks to make a dent.  The optimistic enthusiasm I left the States with just collided with the prodigious depth of loss. These people were alone in their suffering, their government was absent, there was no law to protect them from crime and they did not have any sensible plan of recovery. Everything they were doing seemed to be in vain. I slipped away behind a pile of broken concrete and cried in my spirit. I could only think of Matthew 9 "When Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd."

That evening we had a meeting at the school with several pastors who were leading similar recovery efforts. We started a Critical Incident Debriefing, but ended up just listening and trying to take in what these men had been living for months.  One pastor could not help but cry out in anger "Why, why us... we were already the poorest country in the world....and now we don't even have that!” One by one they shared their anger, frustration, and even how they struggled with the sovereignty of God.  As the night came to an end and each left down the ridge to their prospective paths, I felt slightly conflicted.  I knew in just a short time I would leave for America while everyone here would face a continuing struggle with little or no resources. We vested ourselves, as well as our State side resources, to the people.

     It has been twenty years and the people are still struggling.  I sometimes hear American expressions of disgust or anger toward their situation.  While I would love to hold the corrupt government accountable for abandoning their own people, I have to keep my heart right toward the suffering.   We should all maintain our compassion.  Allow your heart to break for a people who have been impoverished for generations.  Have compassion for a society that struggles with out of control sickness.  Grieve for a people who, for comfort’s sake, are easily overlooked.  For they are truly “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”