Water Doesn't Break

Toys break. I throw them away.

Appliances break and are replaced.

Glass breaks. Dishes break. Fingernails break. Pencils break.

Cars break down.

Hearts, dreams, and the will can be broken. Yet with resolve they reassemble.

But what about a country? What happens when it breaks? Or, better said, what happens when literally and figuratively, people break? They rip at the seams. Their bodies are crushed. They die. Or they mourn, wailing over brokenness that can't be patched up, replaced, thrown out, or ignored.

On Tuesday Haiti broke. It broke into pieces from the inside out. The earth's massive shift caused calamity, potentially the worst disaster in human history. That's right. In. Human. History.

After reading a missionary's blog (link below) I understand that driving down the street resembles the scene in Hotel Rwanda when the jeep, thought to be hitting rough terrain, was actually running over bodies strewn in the street. I saw the scene from the movie and nearly vomited. Though based on a true story it was easy to tell myself, "It's just a movie." But it wasn't. And right now in Haiti there is no pause button, no luxury of hitting stop on a remote to gather ones senses. (Visit the Castillo Family 's blog. They work with Northwest Haiti Christian Mission .)

I cried for Haiti - three days ago, two days ago, yesterday, this morning. I cried for people I don't know, but love, because Christ in me is compelled to do so.

As I would look for news reports on websites I was stunned to see advertising along the borders. Companies selling jewelry, weight loss, entertainment news. And just like when I watched Hotel Rwanda I wanted to vomit.

Broken Haiti. Can you imagine? Heat, dust, stench, and no clean water. Not just a drop, but gallons heaped upon each other is what I pray for these people. Biblically speaking, water is symbolic for the Holy Spirit. In both ways, Haiti, may it be available to drink in. Drink it in deeply.

To ask why this happened, for me, isn't the point. What I'm more willing to pray is, "God, show me how to focus my prayers for Haiti because I'm at a loss." Then God confirmed my instincts.

Water. Give them water.

So, for Dan and I, that's what we're going to do. Some friends of ours who provide water for poverty stricken areas are headed to Haiti to provide permanent clean water solutions. We are backing them financially.

Ironically, water in itself, doesn't break. Just like the Holy Spirit, it is poured out to saturate whatever it touches.

Figuratively speaking I've been drenched in the water of Haiti. Maybe it's the tears of God. Regardless, my broken heart is a constant reminder to pray. With every pang that sears my chest it's a reminder to beg God for mercy.

For water for dry throats, for life.

For water of the Spirit to reign down, now and always.

God is with you Haiti. Today, may there be water, fresh and clean. Because water doesn't break.

How are you praying for Haiti?