Two Coins Too Little

*Image of the inside of the prison. The cells can hold up to 30 men with only standing room.

"Give out of your poverty." This is a heavy hitting phrase on the mission base in Haiti. I probably hear it a handful of times a day, and as much as I hate it, I know that it's something I need to hear.

It's no secret that Haiti is an impoverished country. Being here on mission I have met many teens who have only one meal a day, if that. They come from hard working families, who will do whatever it takes to provide for their children--unfortunately opportunities don't necessarily abound for families to provide food every day. They travel long distances just to get water, and it's not even filtered for drinking. I have seen children and adults walking those great distances with shoes that are falling apart. They really are living in poverty.  To them, I am rich. I have good shoes, good clothes, and food in my stomach every day. My natural inclination is to give to them what I have because it would seemingly fix the need. But, instead I am called to give them Christ and that means I must give to them out of my poverty, not out of my excess. Giving them my material things would be too easy.

So where I am I impoverished? In my energy, in my joy, in my patience, in my trust in God. In these ways, I have been the poor woman who gives her last two coins and even that is too little. They need and deserve even the energy that doesn't exist. They need someone to love them, to share the Gospel, and to forget about the comforts that await me in the states. They need me to give to them until it hurts. They need me to give out of my poverty so that they may experience Christ.

This hasn't been easy for me, but it has been in those moments where I feel completely impoverished, in my energy, my joy, my patience and my trust, that God moves in mighty ways. Here is just one way:

I had only 2 hours of sleep the night before we headed to a local prison to pray with the prisoners. I had no energy and quite the lack of joy. I was so tired, from the many long days and nights preceding this one, that I wasn't even sure how to pray for those things. Once we arrived to the prison, we had to wait outside, in the sun, for half an hour longer. It felt like an eternity. I was miserable and questioning why I came here. We finally got inside and I walked from cell to cell with the group, letting them do all the praying and the talking. As we were about to leave, the first cell, reserved for women only, was near the exit and I headed toward it. A woman in the cell called out to me and had a very large smile on her face. She put her hand out for me to hold. She remembered me. I had been there about two weeks earlier, when I sang and prayed with her. She began to cry all the while with a  smile on her face. She was so happy to see me...not because there was something so special or different about me, but because I took the time to pray with her the last time I was there. Clearly she had encountered Christ and that brought her joy, even in the midst of her terrible living conditions. Her joy was then contagious and on a day that I really needed it, she brought Christ to me in return. I forgot about myself and gave her my hand. It was a brief encounter, but a lasting one. That joy helped me to carry on through the day, to serve and to give out of my poverty to others I would meet. So, even when I felt I had given the last two coins, it was in fact too little...there was still more to give as the woman in the cell reminded me.

Please continue to pray for this mission as we lead teens, and the people of Haiti, closer to Christ.  Pray that I can continue to give out of my poverty.