The snowy blizzard in Central Alberta today reminded me, yet again, of the stark contrast of Canadian and Haitian life. My, how I miss the warm weather of the Caribbean. I was struck though, by the fact that here, in bad weather, I can run for a cozy cover and a fire place. In Haiti most people only have bed sheets now to cover their heads from the rain, and that surely won't keep them warm. These tent cities will be the collective reality for probably months to come. This is certainly only aggravated by the recent and less than inspiring news from President Preval to the shell-shocked and displaced masses that they could expect yet another, even larger, quake. He told them not to retreat back into any cement buildings, so even if their homes are still standing, they are sleeping outside.
I feel a different sense of displacement, a separation of family and a sort of loneliness that you just can't experience in Haiti. In Haiti there is just no space for this sense of separation. I am going on four months now up in Canada. I know God has his hand of protection on us, but there is still so much emotion that goes with being isolated from all that I love - my husband, my dear friends and my calling. Yet each day, His mercies are new every morning, His grace sufficient for another night. Though my sorrow lasts for the night, I find new joy just around the corner in the fresh smiles of our new baby Ariana, the laughter and jokes of our older two and the new-found facial expressions of our Jasmine heading for her twos.
Marc will be home in a few days, leaving the staff and David and James to continue to capably oversee the work. We are so blessed with amazing, vibrant, passionate people in Haiti to work with us. It is a good thing, because Marc is in desperate need of a rest. As am I. For now, I will cuddle up under my fuzzy blankets and thank God for the shelter from the storm.