A Pouring Out

One year ago, I rode an escalator down into the sound of drums at the Port-au-Prince airport for the first time. Last week, I descended the same escalator, but this time there were no drums. The nervous excitement that I had last year was replaced by a focus on the itinerary for the week ahead—the volleyball clinic, the incoming team, the Korbanas House, the orphanage visits—the itinerary which, believe it or not, I was leading.

From the top floor of Village Solidarite, Port-au-Prince

When I travel, I love to take the form of a sponge. However, I think after my sixth trip to Haiti, it’s as if I am a sopping, soaked sponge that must be wrung out. The heaviness of increased responsibility is real and the pouring out is necessary.

The good thing is that the responsibility for these children is shared by many—including the awesome team of people that ventured with us on this June trip to Port-au- Prince. In addition to our solid Haiti-based crew of Alain, Ronald and Willy, we were able to host both a veteran and rookie traveling team. Tom Hogan, a former USA National Team Assistant Coach of mine whom God used to invite me into this world last July, was again leading the volleyball curriculum on the court for the 2012 USA Volleyball - Child in Hand Volleyball Clinic in Haiti. Richard Garner, Project Director for CiH, and his brother Mike Garner, serving as our security mastermind, kept us safe and focused, as always.

Marissa Fernandez

Marissa Fernandez and Courtney Searls, young and open to experiencing the truth of Haiti, remained ready to serve in any capacity. In addition to imparting energy and instruction on the volleyball court, the duo teamed up with Jennifer Charles, a passionate and observant Haitian-American college coach in the U.S., in photographing and recording the names of over 160 children at four CiH-serviced orphanages.

I am delighted to say that I believe the primary mission of teaching volleyball well and loving on the 50 plus coaches and 30 or so National Team players was accomplished. In light of this, I wish to highlight a few occurrences that stood out to me along the way…

FAMILIAR FACES
It is true that every time I travel to and from Haiti, I see at least one large group of white-skinned people all wearing the same color t-shirt with a cross or scripture verse somewhere to be found. I do not judge their cause; in fact, in general, I would say that I support it. Yet, what often happens is that such missionaries come for a short time, make promises out of desperation to see change, and then for whatever reason the loving faces that spoke of hope never return and the promises remain only that. Then the people of Haiti see a white face like mine and are often skeptical and guarded—understandably so.

And that is why it is difficult for me to explain how powerful it was to be a face that did come back and to feel the appreciation in the eyes of the coaches on that first day of training. And inside of me, the joy was bubbling over—I couldn’t help it! To again see the faces of “Smiley,” Jean and Winston, and others was a very special gift.

SHE DID IT, SO MAYBE I CAN TOO
During introductions before we began the first training session with the National Team players, I remember time pausing for a moment. Jennifer surprised the crowd by introducing herself in the native language creole. The greater stir happened after she briefly acknowledged her college coaching career in the USA. Heads of her fellow Haitians began to nod, eyes sparkled, and I saw one of the older men tap his fist to his chest in approval as fresh inspiration settled in.

BETTER THAN CUBA
While coaching the Men’s National Team players, Tom would often begin each new instruction with, “The best teams in the world do this…” The reason he did that is because the athletic potential and tenacious hunger of the Haitian athletes that stood before us could absolutely rival the best teams in the world. No smoke. No fake let’s-just-make-them-feel-good-and-happy juice. Instead, he communicated a dose of truth that motivates and warrants a call to more discipline, refinement of technique, and hard work.

CEMENT MUCH?
During our one hour lunch break at a delicious Haitian buffet, I had the pleasure of sitting next to Caroline Graham, the daughter of Margarette Graham—head of the Haitian Volleyball Federation and heartbeat of forward movement for volleyball in Haiti. Caroline a young setter currently training with the Women’s National Team, and I were exchanging stories of knee pain. She informed me that the team usually practices at various schools around Port au Prince—all of which are outdoors on cement (ouch!).

I also learned that there are only two indoor courts in Haiti—notice I did not say two courts in the city of Port-au-Prince, but two in the entire country. To Caroline’s additional frustration, the one in PaP has been under construction for over a year now, and the other indoor court is on the opposite side of the country in Cap-Haitian. I look forward to the day when I can look her in the eye and say the indoor Multi Sport Facility, that CiH, USAV, and other organizations are building in PaP, is ready for use!

PRAYER
One of the most beautiful sights of my life is to see a group of men and women fall to their knees and cast off their hats in readiness to converse with the Almighty God. I have been honored to see and be a part of such humility twice here in Haiti following a session of playing and learning about volleyball. Words cannot express the joy and love that radiates in those moments. Glory—all the glory—belongs to Jesus who will always be found by those who seek Him with all of their heart.

POWER SHARING
Last month Child in Hand and Orphans to Ambassadors installed a complete solar panel system at the Foyer Evangelique orphanage in Criox des Bouquets. We were able to check the status of the system last week, learning that everything is functioning very well—HOORAY! Not only that, but the leadership is maximizing the resource even further by using the extra power to bring in additional money from neighbors who need their cell phones charged!

LITTLE BY LITTLE
Imagine my surprise when I walked into Foyer Evangelique, and in the midst of a strong embrace, my Haitian sister Stenda says to me with a big smile, “I saw you on TV, Tracy!” She was referring to the press conference that occurred on the final day of the clinic.

Both Tom and I, as well as the head coach for the Haitian Women’s National Team were interviewed by local radio, television, and newspapers about the expanding volleyball vision in Haiti. This was a great honor and opportunity, because we must increase awareness. The Haitian Volleyball Federation (FHVB) needs governmental support in order for the ignition of volleyball to gain traction. The press conference shows that the local media was beginning to take note—hey, something is happening here.

The morning after the press conference, Jennifer and I were able to carve out a two-hour "classroom" session with the coaches. We reviewed what they learned on the court the previous two days and discussed details of coaching philosphy (i.e. "What is Success?" and "How will you motivate your players?"). The best part was all of the questions and hands that were popping up throughout the group!

It is worth it to invest in coaches, as well as players. Coaching is mentoring. And what if volleyball is more than just an activity to pass time, but a tool to help inspire Haiti?

THE MAN IN THE BACKGROUND
I would like to mention a man who came on this trip that I had never met before. One thing he said to me is that he prefers to remain in the background, so I will respect that and keep him there—for now. Of course, he helped us advance the mission of Child in Hand—even in ways that we did not know to ask. Even more, his story of God’s hand in his life and the actions that illustrate that fact filled me with great encouragement and inspiration. Merci anpil...

FRISBEE SLAPPIN
Remember how there were no drums at the airport when I arrived in Haiti? Well, that is because the drums were coming later, and by another hand. Within a tiny cement room dimly lit by the fading sunshine, I sat on splintered wood benches with 15 children. The rhythm began simply with a little beat boxing base from the back of my throat and soon swelled into 30 hands banging on benches, snapping and frisbee clapping, with the intermittent “Whoop!”

Loud, unplanned music from the soul… and for the soul.

 

Thanks to God. Thanks to Lily. Thanks to all those involved with Child in Hand who are so patient with me and gracious as I learn.

On with the sponge life …

The Good Light

This morning is new. At least that’s what the sun is showing me.

After talking with Carly, an 18-year-old adventurer, about the impact of international travel on each of us, I drifted to sleep to the hum of praise music. Last night’s melodies weren’t coming from a radio or iPod, rather, from a congregation just down the street.

……………………                                                                

I wrote the above after a night of ache. Even though it was my fourth trip back to Haiti, the reality that these kids never leave their poor situation hit me once again.

Our mission for the May 2-6, 2012 trip was to install a complete solar panel system at one of our orphanages--a process led by Jake Gentry, founder of Orphans to Ambassadors (O2A).  But even if the mission was different than anything Child in Hand had done before, the impact of Haitian life vs. my own continues to conflict.

I can endure no air conditioning for a time knowing the constant sweating and mosquito bites will only last a few days. I have so much hope for my future endeavors, but do they? I just ripped off the crust from my sandwich, sparing the carbs, while they wonder if they will get to eat twice today instead of just once.

Yet, the purity in their poverty is striking. The kids are so beautiful—so happy to be swung in circles around the yard.

One morning, Ronald, a Haitian member of the Child in Hand (CiH) team, made sure we had the two Styrofoam packaging blocks before we left the house. I watched him and wondered silently why we needed them since they were broken and clearly beyond their useful state. Then, before leaving the orphanage at the end of that day, I saw white foam waving around the yard, with kids banging on it like a drum and squealing with delight. I turned to Ronald, who winked at me and smiled.

…………………….

Willy, another Haitian CiH team member, was on the unstable tin roof of the Foyer Evangelique orphanage for hours adjusting and nailing and sweating over the six solar panels to be anchored. Everyone else from Orphans to Ambassadors and Child in Hand was too big to stand safely on the roof, so Willy, who was later dubbed the “MVP” of Installation Day 2, and a few rotating orphan boys braved the blazing sun and followed instructions as they secured the panels onto the underlying two-by-fours.

How beautiful it was to see these young men take hold of a screwdriver for the first time, being taught by Dave and Jake, of Orphans to Ambassadors, the process of the installation. Such efforts equip them with the skills and ownership of maintaining the system and encouraging hope in their ability to do new things.

…………………….

Stenda celebrated her 18^th birthday the day we first arrived at FE on May 3. We had not originally planned to stop by this orphanage, so her birthday was a fun surprise. I got to hug my tall sister in Christ once again. She looked at me with love and told me, via Willy’s translation, that last night she had a dream about me showing up!

Stenda and some of the older girls spent all day doing laundry. After tub washing and wringing, the clothes were laid out along the surrounding rocks to sun dry.

………………………

We did not change the world in five days.
We did accomplish the mission of installing an entire six solar panel system in one of our orphanages.
So I suppose we did change the world—
The world of those 32 kids who turned on a light in their bedroom on May 5, 2012 for the first time.

Thank you, God. Thank you, Orphans to Ambassadors. Thank you, Lily Richardson. Thank you to each person who has donated to Child in Hand and O2A with the hope of real change for people who need it.

On with the journey…

A Crossroads

A great impact occurred at the 2012 Colorado Crossroads Junior National Volleyball Qualifier last month. Over 42,000 people circulated the Denver Convention Center, including 1,152 participating volleyball teams. The usual face-crushing kills and nail-biting moments of teams unifying under pressure occurred steadily. However, an even greater impact happened in front of Court 11, where cardboard images of suffering, yet smiling, children and a river of handmade bracelets displayed at the Child in Hand booth drew many of the Crossroads participants away from each day’s athletic activity to consider, for a moment, the continuing plight of Haiti’s people.

That consideration—those moments of donating, browsing, questioning, and listening to the history of Haiti and the mission of Child in Hand—is right now making a very real difference in the lives of very real people. Over $2,800 was collected and will be spent towards providing direct food and resources to over 90 children and their caregivers, comprising two of our completely dependent orphanages of the six that we serve, for almost two months. Child in Hand would like to thank each person for their important consideration and support.


A note from CiH Assistant Project Director:


“My name is Tracy Stalls, former professional volleyball player and Team USA member, and I had the pleasure of engaging many of the coaches, staff, players, and parents of Crossroads (many of which I have known for years) about the mission of Child in Hand. What a personal gift it was to hear and to see passion for the less-fortunate lived out within the volleyball community. It is my hope that more and more young people who play this sport will recognize their privilege and blessing, no longer just expect it, by seeing the truth of suffering and even having the courage to do something about it.


A special thanks goes out to my friends and teachers at Front Range Volleyball Club and to Crystal Carey, a woman who gave many hours and joy towards making this impact possible.”

The mission remains, and the needs will resurface. So if you want to stay involved, that would be beautiful. Please check out our website (www.childinhand.org), our blog (www.childinhand.blogspot.com), or contact Tracy directly at t_stalls@childinhand.org.

Mercy...

I remember hearing about the huge earthquake that ripped through Haiti on this exact day two years ago, but in my ignorance and inability to swallow such serious devastation at the time, I remained rather motionless.

I eventually donated a few dollars, or...wait...

Maybe I only kept thinking about donating whenever the topic came up.

The deep twist in my heart: Do something.
Do what?

Give.
Give what? How?

To justify: I'm already giving my money and time for other things.

And I have laundry to do, appointments to keep, and...on and on...

Until....

I saw...

I smelled...

I held...

O, God... forgive me for being so blind, so self-involved.

I beg You.

Have mercy on the people of Haiti.

Be there, God.

Be there and be felt, be known by all the people--all of them.

Have mercy on the people of Haiti.

Move in the hearts of Your people in that nation and elsewhere to give:

Money, knowledge, food, resources, aid, And real hope.

Your lasting love is the real thirst quencher.

Dad, please give us grace at Child in Hand.

Give us favor to be able to do meaningful work

Work that causes ripple effects of actual, continuing change in that country.

Let us be inside of what You are doing.

Jesus, save us.

Save us from deception, from thinking we are being effective when we are not.

Save us from disorganization--that the time and resources you give us would be maximized.

Save us from pride, that we may work humbly and without acclaim.

Thank You, my One, for the burden in our hearts to see Haitians set free from trauma and violence and hopelessness.

Give us eyes to see what is good. Give us wisdom to know what to do.

And, God... please give us the courage to do it.

Love Haiti, Father.

Lead us in Your mercy.

                                         ....Amen.

Seasoning

November 25, 2011

  

Cornbread dressing is my favorite Thanksgiving side dish. LuLu’s Noodles ‘n Cheese and some Cajun fried turkey are tolerable accompaniments as well. Tack on about eight other heaping, steaming vats of food and that is the beginning of my family’s typical November 24^th feast.

 

I admit that I looked at my plate a little differently this year.

Three days ago, a smiley child named Samuel was propped on my hip, hand outstretched and giggling. One of his sisters caught the cue and returned to his side with a gift. He reached in her palm to grab a perfectly round and vibrantly red piece of fruit that she had picked from the nearby tree. It looked like a cherry, but it was so ripe that I could smell how sour it was. Samuel brought the fruit to his mouth and chomped down in an effort to break it in half. He semi-succeeded as skin and juice dribbled down his chin.

 

In the midst of his satisfaction, the tiny fruit slipped from his fingers into the dirt. I was relieved because, surely, he did not like it that much. But he immediately began squirming and reaching toward the ground. The look in his eyes determined that if he did get hold of that fruit again, he would devour it, dirt and all.

Samuel, also known as “Moses,” became a part of a new family about six months ago. Pastor Silar Deluc and his wife Gina, caretakers of the OROEDH orphanage in Port au Prince, Haiti, took him in after he was found abandoned, floating in a basket in a river. Samuel has 59 brothers and sisters sharing their small 25 x 50 living space, seeming to barely survive each day.

 

The same hands that held that little child are now holding this overflowing plate of delicious food as I stand in a clean house clothed in comfort that I have known my whole life, and I struggle to know how to respond to that imbalance.

Five days before, on November 19, 2011, I began my second journey to Haiti, the first taking place in July of the same year (read about it here). The Child in Hand team for this medically focused trip comprised of CiH Director Richard Garner and his wife Heidi Silvey Garner, Dr. Greg and Amalia Ciottone, Dr. Srihari Cattamanchi, Dr. Michael Bouton, Dr. Majed Aljohani, Patricia Johnson, Alain Denis, Ronald Watson, Willie Noel, and our security leader Brett Mills, and myself.

From the airport, we piled in our two vehicles, and then Rich “threading the needle” Garner maneuvered the Haitian traffic insanity to the city of Grand Goave, about two hours from Port au Prince. On this final leg of our long travel day, every one was so kind to allow me, the non-doctor rookie, to claim the front backseat of the van, enabling my oversized and injured right leg to stretch out onto the center console.

Thus began the many honors I was to experience on this trip. Allow me to share a glimpse of some of the others…

           Stepping out of the van, some of the YouTube videos and articles I had seen came to life, as I was honored to meet Len Gengel, the father and founder of Be Like Brit. The wounds of his daughter’s death in the 2010 earthquake were still raw and evident, but the artistry and heart transferred into her tribute--a "B" shaped two-story orphanage—was inspiring. Not only did we get to walk the grounds of this coming shelter, but I had the privilege of snapping a photo of our dear Amalia Ciottone standing in what will be the Child in Hand Medical Clinic, located inside the orphanage and run by the Ciottones.

Another joy found me at the church service led by our Grand Goave hosts, Lex and Renee Edme of Mission of Hope International. I had been greatly anticipating the opportunity to witness how a people immediately dealing with trauma and devastation might worship and praise the Almighty God. How much more reverent or grateful would they be, having to depend on God for daily survival, for basics, for hope?

When we arrived at the open-air structure that enclosed a gathering of beautifully dressed, singing people, my eyes were drawn to the two small boys holding hands and spinning in the aisle. The smile in my heart leapt onto my face, and the two boys looked at me and each reached out a hand. In surprise, I leaned down to take their hands, and they swept me into a dance unlike any I have had before.

            Moments later, there was weeping in that same aisle. A missionary couple of the Hands and Feet orphanage in Jacmel professed his gratitude for God’s protection through tears. The night before, his orphanage was attacked by seven gunmen and his wife held at gunpoint—which is, unfortunately, an increasingly common occurrence against white missionaries in the area. The same night of our arrival, our faithful guide Willie used our van to help transport children to a safe location on the MOHI grounds. How grateful I am that, even in a small way, Child in Hand was able to meet these kind hearts and assist in their rescue.

 

One of the main purposes of our trip, however, was that our incredible team of doctors, led by Dr. Greg Ciottone, would begin medical and nutritional assessments of children, as well as do some educational training for over 50 local caregivers. I was humbled by my inability to speak their medical language, but I was very honored that upon our second visit in two days to the ORAEDH orphanage in PaP, Child in Hand was able to give an answer and a treatment plan to children whose conditions had gone untouched for months—like for the paralyzing, emotionless symptoms of “Little Colorado,” who was the first orphan I ever held this past July, the doctors communicated a plan to treat the parasite that should be his companion no more.

Something I did not experience on my first trip to Haiti four months ago was the Haitian children’s fascination with my hair. Before, “the mop,” as I call it, had been crowded up under a hat, but this time it was down and expanding in all of its Muffassa-like glory (Lion King, anyone?). As soon as I would sit down in one of the undersized chairs strewn about the yard, tiny hands began to dig and pull on my curly locks as if checking for ticks or extension ties. As silly as their curiosity felt to my scalp, I was honored by their simple fascination.

           The greatest honor for me, however, was dispersed throughout our four day journey, finding its culmination on our final evening together on November 21. My goal for this trip was to observe, listen, and gather fresh insight into the goals and mission of our organization, and every member of our team contributed to the realization of that goal. I was honored to receive criticism, questions, and new observation on behalf of Child in Hand, especially from the three visiting doctors who had never worked with us before. I came away from the trip spurred on to streamline our focus. We must answer important questions in order to maximize Child in Hand’s impact in 2012—not prioritizing width of impact, but depth.

And that brings me back to little Samuel in my arms, reaching towards the ground for his beloved, sour cherry now covered in a layer of dirt. The dirt that did not bother him at all. He just kept reaching, desiring that cherry as if knowing something I did not.

What if Child in Hand was a bit like that cherry—a little ripe and a little dirty.

And what if, thanks to another year of experience and error and progress, we now know the truth that Samuel knew all along.

It is possible that Samuel still wanted that cherry because he knew the value of food and what it was to be without it. To him, that cherry was not lost or inedible. No, no--it was just more well-seasoned. 

 

Impact Zone

     Below is the email I sent to friends and family after returning from my first trip to Haiti in July 2011. The time was a major crossroads for me since my pursuit of the London Olympic dream was brought to a close in May. I was in my second month of waiting to see where to step next, when this opportunity divinely settled in my lap.

July 19, 2011

Can you believe that at this exact moment I am sitting on a pillow sipping on a now-cooling latte with crumbling remnants of a scone scattered nearby? Of course you can; it's what I do. This time, though, I'm in my Colorado (that's right... it's MINE).

I had the honor of venturing to Haiti a little over a week ago. On July 5-9, I joined a former National Team assistant coach of mine, Tom Hogan (see his blog on the trip here), as well as two other young coaches, to go to the shaken country and teach volleyball.

Some quick background: USA Volleyball has teamed up with a group called Child In Hand (http://www.childinhand.org ), which aims to reach out to the at-risk youth in Haiti, as well as provide various degrees of treatment for trauma victims there, including medical, psycho-social, movement, and now sport. They are working on various projects in line with this vision, as well as working to support six orphanages and two schools in Haiti. A radiant and humble woman named Lily is the leader of the pack as president and CEO of PSA ( http://www.explorepsa.com/ ), the main funder of this mission.

I arrived early morning of the 6th and went straight to the court, which happened to be outside under the blazing heat and filled with 30+ adult players and coaches hungry to learn. We coached the large, sometimes changing, group of players for four days, six hours each day (9am-4pm) with a one hour break for lunch. Following the sessions we would engage in world-changing dialogue with the Child In Hand team and visit various orphanages.

My time there was short, but the impact... deep. Although, I have had the privilege of seeing and living in various parts of this world, even having been to the neighboring Dominican Republic several times for tournaments, this was my first primarily "off road" experience. Many people ask, "How was Haiti?," which I appreciate very much, and yet I often struggle for words beyond "Life Changing." As I continue to reflect, however, I have identified three parts of this experience that resonate with my heart and spirit the most. Here goes...

ONE

When I ducked under the doorway into an orphanage for the first time on our second day, I soon became discouraged by my inability to connect to these beautiful kids hunched about the room stringing bracelets. My bird and chipmunk chirps got a few smiles, as did the dominance of my stature, but nothing held. I found myself staring at them, wanting so badly to tell each one how beautiful and valuable he or she is, but without the language to do so. Even if I had found words, I felt paralyzed by their circumstance. How can I preach hope to them or ask them their dreams, when all they have known is bracelets, streets, and abandonment? I was especially drawn to the two older boys with the hard faces, obeying the bead pattern with apathy and growing defiance. I can't imagine the struggle in puberty and identity of a 16-year-old person in that environment. Even my best attempts at joking with them seemed to hit stone and fall to the ground.

That is, until we stepped outside and began to demonstrate to the mass of kids how to prepare their hands to set or clasp their fingers to pass a volleyball. Focus. Each mind became engaged in the present. The hunger to learn was aroused, and every eye followed our movement as Tom and I kept the ball in the air using these two techniques. Who wants to try? I can only imagine the series of thoughts: "I can't... I'd be embarrassed...but it looks fun...and easy...and maybe I could...I want to try....I will try!" and the hand shot up to the sky "Pick me!" or the feet began to walk forward to the opening in the crowd. Suddenly her brothers and sisters are cheering. "They're cheering for me?" I smile and link eyes, reminding her to bend her knees like so, arms straight. Tom tosses a ball, and the little one's body and heart and mind surge together as the ball collides with her forearms and barrels into the sky. More cheers. The broken glass under bare feet and smell of excrement fall away in a moment of elation. I did it.

I like playing volleyball. The cognitive and physical aspects of learning and executing proper technique and dynamic movement is a high that I cherish. However, what I have grown to value and love the most about this sport are the intangibles that it has fostered in my life. My passion to play and compete is dwarfed by my desire to teach character and integrity, true success and value of risk, hope and Kingdom value through this sport. Sport is a microcosm of life, a practice ground in developing who we are and want to be.

 

 

This deep desire of my heart to cultivate young people's understanding of their true value through this sport formed a heartbeat in Haiti! I saw layers of defense and hardship fall away as a circle gathered to keep the ball off the floor. I saw future and hope seep in a little as the defiant 16-year-old began to use his body in ways he never thought he could. I saw the potential of coming back "next time" and sitting with him, layers of stone now broken down, ready to tell his story--that I might even be used to speak life into his heart and spirit. His visions and dreams expanding as his purpose and value become released by truth!

 

TWO

In the dark of night we toured the poor living quarters of the many kids in the orphanage plagued with mumps. One of the tarps draped over a small room stacked with four triple-bed bunks caused Becca and I to step out of that space frowning and discouraged. Rich, the former Navy Seal of the group, was standing outside and in seeing our countenance, offered a dose of truth. He said that these conditions, although seemingly unbearable to us, are the best that these kids have ever known. Before coming here, they were likely sleeping on a mat overlaying cement with no covering at all. Perspective...

 

 

Before I came to Haiti, a friend of mine shared with me a truth spoken to him by Wes Stafford, the leader of Compassion International. It went something like this: "The opposite of poor is not rich. The opposite of poor is enough." Throughout my time in Haiti, I marveled at the smiles that would quickly catch fire among the orphans and athletes we interacted with. What would blow me away, though, is that their smiles were laced with an inner joy that didn't line up with their surrounding circumstance.

It made me wonder, if they in their poverty knew a freedom that I, as an American lavished in "riches", don't understand, perhaps they are not feeling as desperate for stuff as we think they are. Of course, they are beyond grateful for any gift of food or toys or time, but what if in their poverty they are more rich than I am? They are rich in that they walk in a mindset of gratitude. They move in a way of self-sacrifice and love in order to survive. There is a deep satisfaction in their heart that love and simplicity and community has not been corrupted by media or fame or money. Poverty is not defined by circumstance, but by state of being.

We brought them some hope through volleyball and time, while Child In Hand continues to bless them incredibly by meeting basic needs through therapy and food, etc. All of these are valuable and necessary services, and yet a reality exists that when we leave Haiti, these kids are still smiling from the inside out--rich in that their joy is not dependent on more stuff. Wow, does this challenge and bless me as I aim to figure out how to apply this revelation to my own life.

THREE

I have a picture of the dinner table at La Reserve after our first night together (see below). At first I thought the picture would have been better with the people in it, but the fact that they're not is telling in itself. To be at a table with a group of people with such unique backgrounds, intelligence, commitment, passion, and vision was like adding kerosene to my already blazing desire to change the world. The motivations and roles are so varied, and yet in all the collective and individual conversations I was able to engage in throughout the four day journey, I continued to be amazed by the cohesiveness of this rightfully titled "team." The picture of the table is not a picture of inspired people just talking and dreaming, but the picture is a memory of that fact because as it goes, the people who were there are now on their feet DOING what they talked and dreamed about. C'MON!!!

My hands are sweating and my heart is thumping as I type this... There are more stories to tell--like about my tall orphan sister named Sedan (the future of Haitian volleyball?), baby Moses and his parents, the freedom and joy of grunting, the mass prayer following the final teaching session, and meeting "Little Colorado," the first orphan I have ever cradled in my arms.

But like I said, I am in Colorado at the moment. and tomorrow I leave for Arizona to coach at a 10-day USA Volleyball camp. Then it's back to Cali for the month of August to just BE and pray and see how God wants to deal with the great big question marks that arrive with September 1st. I don't know what's next for me, but I am pumped.

...And I have a feeling that wasn't my last trip to Haiti.

"I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something.

What I can do, I ought to do. What I ought to do, by the grace of God I will do."

~ Edward Hale