Heavy Heart
My heart has been so heavy for the country of Haiti these past couple of days. There are 1.5 million orphans in the country of Haiti, and that was before the earthquake hit. Tears come to my eyes thinking of the children that have just lost their parents have no one to care for them. My heart is heavy for the families that are waiting for their adopted children to come home, for some, it has already been an extremely long process and I can only imagine that it is going to take even longer now for them to finish processing everything for these children to come to the US. My heart just wants to go down there to hold some of these children that have no one to hold them.
Our friends, the Iveys, posted this picture of the kids, including their son Amos, from the Rescue Center sleeping outside again last night.
The following is copied from a this blog, of a missionary named Jeremy Schurke who people here are connected with…reading his experience in the past 72 hours will give you chills, he really paints a picture of what things were like while the earthquake was happening, and now the aftermath. Continue to pray.
There is no gas in Port-au-Prince.
Food and water are very scarce.
Prices for everything have
Charles went to PAP today. He could barely describe what he saw, “The flood was nothing.” He said that the houses on the side of the mountains either collapsed or completely fell through the ground as the ravine opened up. He said road were blocked by piles of dead people pulled from the wreckage. Our school in PAP collapsed on itself, they think people are still inside but no one can help. Most government buildings, a lot of the U.N. force and many, many people… gone. As the earthquake passed through yesterday, any infustructure Haiti had… gone. “PAP is down… everything… no food, no water, no gas, no help.”
I can’t sleep. I keep having this dream of falling and violently wake up.
Our medical clinic was packed all day, still is. It is a very bloody scene. Compound fractures, giant gashes and they keep flooding in. On beds, backs, wood. They are now getting here from PAP, at least a 20 mile hike.
The team from Savannah has a man named Jose who is an engineer for Gulf Streamliners. Friday morning, the team will have a military convoy escorting them to PAP and they will fly out on one of those planes. 14 seats, 14 savannahians.
We still don’t know what will happen next here. We just keep trying to help people in the clinic. I think the plane coming will bring us some aid.
We need intentional prayers. Contact your friends, get together and pray hard. PAP prolly will turn in a refugee camp whenever help finally gets here. There are many dead and far more dying.
I’ve never felt sorrow like this.
…
I just took an hour break from writing. Another huge aftershock. Everyone ran out of the house.
I think this sorrow is making me physically sick. The Earth keeps moving. My head keeps spinning.
I feel so much distress that my heart physically hurts and seems to skip beats.
I switch from tears to goosebumps, back and forth.
Latest News: It is gunna get too dangerous here, we are gunna try and get out…
Thoughts in my head, with concern growing expedientially, frantically looking for a cause:
“Is that a truck?”
“Is it a semi?”
“Is there a stampede coming?”
After about several seconds the initial continuous shake grew to a full on violent rumble. I was barely able to stand. It was shaking so hard my vision was blurry. It literally felt as though God was shaking the earth in his hand. I look over to Jean Lubeans, a 5 year orphan, standing in front on a concrete wall 20 feet away falling over like wave break. I yell out and try to gather myself to run. He steps out and barely escapes the crashing wall. I run over and take his hand and any others I can find. We drop down huddled in the middle of the road. I look around at everyone else, faces painted with shock. Then, like a ripple effect, it slowly fades out. From start to finish, about 45 seconds to a minute of shaking.
We get up. No one is hurt. Distant screams and shouts.
There is a spirit of panic in the air. We need to get back to the compound. As everyone grabs a kid and speed walks the half-mile back, I assess the surrounding damage. Almost every single house has at least one wall down. People are screaming and crying. I get back to the compound and help one of the doctors stitch up a woman’s forehead.
We have experienced about 40 aftershocks since the initial shake. Even as I am writing this the house shakes.
From everything I have heard, Port-Au-Prince got rocked. It’s dark there now, powers out. Estimates like half the buildings are down in some places. Won’t know for sure til the morning light shines.
Please be praying. I know of one hospital that has completely collapsed. Houses destroyed. People are trapped in rumble. This country is always on the edge of complete chaos. Pray for our safety. Get your friends to pray too.
God’s might and power were on display today.
It forced me down on my knees with fear and trembling.
Pray for Haiti. Pray for us.
I'm the wife to a wonderful, godly husband who I couldn't adore more! I'm overwhelmed by the blessing of my two precious kiddos, Izzy, 1 1/2, and Owen, newborn. I love being a mom to these 2 and getting to do ministry alongside my man. And incredibly thankful for a Savior that loves me!
Sweet Ashley… It is so hard to think of ALL of those impacted by the earthquake. It is heartbreaking!! Absolutely… I can’t even imagine! I appreciate you sharing all that you have with the blog world… it is sobering and important for us to remember just how REAL it is when we pray for Haiti! Thank you!!