because there are no words for Real Love.

i've spent the last year trying to tell myself i'm okay.

that i'm okay without friends.

that even without friends, i would still have worth.

i have friends now, but i have been trying to know my own value even if they weren't around. because i don't want to get lost again.

for seven years of my life i believed the lie that there was nothing special about me without my one and only best friend.

so now i'm trying to undo all of that. i'm trying to grow security in myself before i let love back in again.

which sounds weird. even to me. it probably sounds like i'm trying to close myself off from the world. but i'm not.

i'm simply trying to be content with being alone. knowing that i am beautiful and smart and special and wonderful to God, even without people to tell me i am.

because for a long time, i got sucked into unhealthy relationships. relationships that were pointless. relationships that appeared to have a lot of love involved. a whole lot of heart.

but they really didn't.

so when those relationships were gone, i was gone too.

* * *

when i stepped on the plane that would take me to haiti, i was ready. i was nervous, and i was shaking and didn't know what i was getting myself into, but at the same time i was glad.

i was glad to be getting away. taking a break to separate myself from this world and take myself away to an unfamiliar one. a place to sort out my thoughts. a place where there would be no attachments made. where i could just stop "feeling" for a while.

well if i ever thought i could go to haiti and not feel a thing, than that is the biggest lie my heart has ever believed. and my heart's believed a lot of lies over the years.

but i wanted to get away from all the pain that comes from losing a friend.

and in a way, i did.

when i went to haiti, i never thought of her once. i never missed her. i was never reminded of her. i was so distracted by all the work we did every day. but i was also distracted by a new kind of love that i had never experience before.

* * *

i've spent the last three years hiding myself away from being too vulnerable. because if i was vulnerable, i might have my heart broken again. and i didn't know how much more my heart could take on. i thought that if one more thing came along to hurt me, my heart might break into a million tiny pieces. they would shatter and spread across the floor. they would be pieces i could never find. i might scramble to try and find them, but i probably wouldn't ever get them back. so if i got hurt again, i couldn't guarantee my heart would get repaired.

so i wasn't taking any more chances with love. i was done.

but from the moment i set foot on haitian soil, i felt like with my team it was a "we're in this together" sort of thing. i felt cared for. not just because we all had to look out for each other, but i really felt loved. like i would be missed if something happened to me.  
and that is something my heart hasn't felt in a long time.

on the first day of work there, the day after we arrived in haiti, i got sick.

really, really sick.

i remember curling up in a ball on my bed and not wanting to move. i didn't want to eat. i didn't want to talk. i just wanted to lay there. and we had to leave for work in less than an hour.

thanks to God, i recovered just before we had to go. turns out the sickness was just a bad reaction to some medication i was taking.

i remember going from my hotel room to the dining room where we all had breakfast every morning. my whole team was down there.

i remember some of them hugged me, asked me how i was feeling. seeing the relief on their faces when i told them i was alright.

and i can't tell you how loved i felt then. it sounds stupid, i'm sure. but they made me feel something i hadn't felt before. to know that someone was concerned for me. worried about me.

* * *

i remember before we left for haiti, we all sat down at my church for the final meeting. my team and i. i remember our team leader handing us each a small booklet type thing, filled with "discussion questions". my heart flipped. i had no idea we were doing small groups in haiti! this meant i was going to end up spilling my guts to a bunch of adults. adults i barely knew. i wasn't even sure of all their names. now i was really dreading the trip. i couldn't sleep that night.

well our first night together in haiti came. my small group met together at a long rectangular table beside the hotel's pool. i was shaking like there was no tomorrow. so freaked out. so scared. so afraid of being vulnerable.

our group's leader started asking some of the questions. we all went around the table. even simple questions that weren't asking much of me were putting me under so much stress.

when questions would finally get to me, i would look down at my feet. talk quiet. wouldn't make any eye contact whatsoever.

but each night, bit by bit, little by little, i would look farther up from my feet. i would look into the eyes of someone sitting across from me. i would share parts of my heart. i would open up. my muscles would become less tense, and more relaxed. i would laugh with them. i would tear up with them.

and by the time our final night came, i sobbed all the way back to my hotel room. i didn't want to leave them. we had held hands when we prayed, and i didn't want to let go when it was all finished. i didn't want to go back home. i wanted to stay there.

later people would ask me if i felt relieved to be back home. back home in the states. but honestly, i would say no. because i still feel the restless need to go back.

i could talk for hours about how cared for i felt in haiti. for that entire trip. by everyone. by each and every member of my haiti family. because that's what they are now. they are my family. i look at them like my brothers and sisters and moms and dads. they've helped me in more ways than they could possibly imagine.

they've given me hope. they gave me a glimpse at what real love looks like. and if i could tell them each something i probably wouldn't be brave enough to say out loud, i would say "thanks for giving me a chance."

my fam and i doing "The Twist" at the airport on the way home. yes, yes that's me, your awkward author in the front.

i'll be coming back home. watch me.

(pictures below taken by the lovely Chris, who took the trip to haiti with me :)

i remember getting on the bus for the last time.

i remember pulling away from those kids- from my kids- and feeling a lump begin to rise at the back of my throat.

i remember pressing my hand flat against the glass window closest to me and them putting their own, small, dusty ones against it from the other side.

i remember them running along side the bus as we slowly pulled away. i remember looking back over my shoulder and waving to them for as long as i could. not wanting to let them go yet. honestly, no matter how much time i spent with them, i don't think it would ever be enough to make me happy.

i remember telling myself, "i have to come back. no matter what it takes, i must come back."

and i remember most vividly, because i still feel it every day, the panic feeling of never seeing each of those sweet, shining faces again.

so i know i have to now. in order to stay sane, i have to.

* * *

i figured out i would be coming back to haiti on the night before my team and i would be leaving.

my small group and i were wrapping up our last evening together and we were sitting in a circle, holding hands as we prayed our final prayer.

i remember saying "amen!" with my group and walking back to my hotel room, sobbing.

i remember sobbing because i couldn't stand the feeling of leaving. there was this sickly, unsettling feeling already beginning to grow inside me. a feeling that told me i wouldn't be okay until i came back.

i wanted so bad to just fly the ones i loved back in missouri out to haiti. because i was happy there. and i hadn't felt that kind of joy that came from doing what i did every day in haiti in all my life. i didn't want to lose that.

so i remember thinking i could never be settled again. not till i came back.

and i still feel that way.

i still think of everyone back there every single day.

it's as if i had left family clear across the world when i took that plane ride home.

maybe because i had.

i remember already missing haiti when we hadn't even stepped on that plane that would take me home to missouri.

i remember taking off and wanting to get off more than anything else in the world.

i remember thinking my whole life through during that entire flight.

and how things were forever changed.

how i was forever changed, mostly.

things would never and could never go back to the way they were.

i couldn't go back to missouri and pretend that things were all good. that i was going back to my old version of normal.

because you can't visit haiti and come back thinking you're going back to your old life.
 
well i haven't cried about haiti since the week i came home.

but now, as i sit here, typing, all the memories and all the tears that come with them are flooding back.

and i realize how haiti impacts everything i do, every day.

it impacts how i feel a need to scrape every last piece of food off my plate now. how i feel guilty if i don't.

it impacts what i choose to say. because i'll never again say, "i'm starving". never ever again.

but above all else, it's shown me how much i can actually feel. how much this heart can actually feel. feel so much that it's like your heart is a time bomb and it's just a matter of time before your heart explodes.

because i've never felt love quite like that before. the kind of love that you want to give to everybody you meet. that's how it was there. that's how it was with everyone i ever saw in haiti. and that's how i want to live here, now.

i didn't know it was possible for my heart to love that much.

sure, i've loved my family. i've loved friends. i've loved a boy.

but this kind of love is the kind that convinces you to go back to haiti.

this is the kind of love that makes you want to adopt children one day.

this is the kind of love that makes you go crazy to find a job to get some money that will buy you a ticket. a ticket that will take you back home.

because i miss home.

and i plan on going back home, home to haiti, like any other kid who comes home to see his or her family.

to not go back would seem unnatural for me. like against my nature or something. because these bones ache. they ache to go back. they ache to go back and love like that again. love like Jesus does.

and if it was ever hard for me to imagine how our God loves, it isn't anymore.

fala and i at church on sunday morning.

6 kinds of happy | updates on where i am.

via Hayley Williams.

via the band All Time Low.

• focusing on this quote ^^

• orange nails, like the lovely miss Hayley Williams. <3

• writing and piecing together songs with my band. i'm not sure how much i've actually mentioned about the band, or if i've even officially told ya'll what we're called. well we recently labeled ourselves as Society's Errors, and we are pretty spanking proud of what we've got going. :) i sing, and my dear friend Anna plays piano like a boss and also sings. we *thought* we had two other members on board, but it turns out they just weren't the right fits. so at this point we're just praying that God will bring along who He wants us to be in this thing with. hoping He'll find the perfect fits for us.

• trying to find a way to come up with money. money that will go towards flying me back to haiti next year. but here's the thing: i need 2,000 + dollars. so i'm looking for jobs like a crazy person right now.

• preparing for a dance recital. the recital itself is a charity benefit for sexually abused children, and it's this weekend! i'm super stoked!!! especially because the next day marks the beginning of Giant Sale week...

• twice a year, my church puts together a massive hulk-sized garage sale. some of what we earn goes towards our trips to haiti, so this time around it means so much more to me. it'll be that much more near and dear to my heart. i'll be working all week to pull this thing off, so i might not be seen much around here. but with Giant Sale week marks the six month anniversary of the life-changing For King and Country concert!!!! (*squeals and blushes uncontrollably*) HOLY BEANS. it seems like just yesterday i met JOEL AND LUKE SMALLBONE, guys. i seriously can't believe it!!!

 ------------------------------------------

well dear faithful readers,

i love you all so flipping much. but as most of you know, the past couple of weeks have been extremely challenging for me to get through. i've been sorting through a lot of things like healing and defining relationships. and so much good has come from all of it, but i still need time to keep on thinking.

on the brighter side of things, however, i've been having more and more motivation and inspiration to start writing about haiti. so the plan at this point is that when Giant Sale week is over, i'll start this process of telling you all the stories. introducing you to all the special people i met and got to know so well on that trip. all of those who are like my family now. they're all these special, irreplaceable people i feel like i could go to with anything. and i love that. and i want to tell you all about each of them.

so if you could wait just a little longer, it'll all get here. this time of me processing things has been good. and you all are so sweet to be so patient. love you guys to the moon and back.

♥

choosing joy,

hannah.

you don't give up, i don't give up.

for the last year, i've been living each day as a praise dance to God that i am still alive.

just grateful.

just happy to still be here.

glad to be out of the pit.

glad to be rid of the depression.

then there was these last couple of weeks.

i've been missing haiti so much.

i've also had plenty of time to think.

think about this girl i'm becoming.

think about whether i'm willing to sacrifice "normal".

because i could fit in. i'm pretty good at that after trying so hard for so long.

but lately, i'm becoming more and more okay, even confident, with being weird. being different. sometimes, really different.

i've learned that yes, i will lose a lot in the process. but i will also gain so much more. and i think that in the end, this will all be worth it.

it's just about fighting for what i stand for. and i stand for originality.

these things that i am choosing for me, they won't always be understood by everybody. but all that matters is that i do these things for myself. and no one else. i do them because i know God is calling me to do them.

and that's another thing.

lately has been crushing. really crushing and really hard.

and i was getting the old feelings back.

the old sadness from the old days was coming back. and covering me up. so much that i could actually feel the light inside me dimming. it was going out slowly.

i haven't been around because i haven't felt motivated. i'll be honest: i've been sad. i'm been very sad. i haven't been wanting to get out of bed. i haven't wanted to dance. i haven't wanted to blog. because i couldn't seem to find the words. i felt weak and i felt like i was falling backwards. which was terrifying. i couldn't understand why God would bring me so far to only let me go now. i couldn't understand why He would have me be the author of a blog about recovery from depression, and then just throw me back into it all again.

but, somewhere inside me, i knew i just had to keep on clinging to Him, even though i didn't know what was going on with this heart. because i really didn't have the slightest clue as to what was going on with me. i've just been feeling really sad for the first time in a long time, and i didn't completely know why.

* * *

the last couple weeks have involved a lot of fighting for who i am. who i'm not done becoming. which can sometimes be scary, when you don't completely understand who you're fighting for. because i don't completely have this new me figured out. all i know is i will be braver, i will be more colorful. i will laugh more, be silly more. sing out loud more. i will share my story more.

and my story doesn't involve a whole lot of happiness.

it isn't pretty. it's pretty bleak.

it's sad. it's ugly.

but something i am becoming okay with is my story. saying "this is who i am, and i am beautiful. and this story has the power to heal other people. so i will tell it."

my story is about a girl who struggles with sadness. my story is about a girl who always escapes, though, through her God.

and i plan to always escape, but that doesn't mean there aren't hard days.

that doesn't mean there aren't ever nights when i don't cry myself to sleep.

and maybe that's why lately, i've been slipping and falling a little more.

i think i was getting a little to comfy. i think i was thinking that the better part of my suffering was over.

and truth is, it is not.

i will suffer- we will all suffer- our entire lives.

but when we've got this incredibly great God on our side, we can defeat everything and anything.

* * *

lately i've been waking up every morning feeling this alone feeling. this gap, this hole in my chest. like i used to all the time.

believing there aren't others out there really and truly like me.

and i didn't understand why God would have me feeling that way.

i hated the feeling so much, it was killing me. swallowing me whole.

then i met Anna.

Anna is the founder of the band i am in now.

i remember going home after i first met her and plopping down on the kitchen floor. i ate a cookie and drank some milk. i kept thinking about how she got all my jokes. laughed at the same stupid things as me. listened to all the same music as i did. liked the fact that i wear "rocker boots". :)

and i started to cry.

i can't express how thankful i felt- how i still feel.

and these days, when i look back, i think that God let me feel a little alone just to see where i stood. to see if i was really going to stay strong in being myself. to see if i would give up and go running back to normal. and now that He's seeing i plan to stay weird, i believe He's letting me know there's others out there like me. and leading me to them, bit by bit.

meeting Anna opened up this whole other world to me. and it's a world i want to be a part of.

* * *

so lately... lately has been shaking me up.

lately has got me feeling like there is this other side to being genuine.

when i think of genuine, i think of being real and true to who you are.

but also, now, i think we've got to be genuine with what our story is.

because no one's story is perfect. they're never cut from a cookie cutter. they're hand-shaped, which i like much better.

and this blog involves a lot of truth. a lot of painfully tough truth.

but this is okay. and this is good.

i want to be okay in saying there were nights over the last couple of weeks when suicide kept creeping back into my mind. which scared me so bad i wanted to scream. i would sit in bed and hold my head and just cry. and shake. and not know what was going on. where my God had gone or if He was still planning on sticking around.

i don't want this blog to look like i've got my stuff together. because i don't. and i don't believe anyone ever quite does. or ever will.

but that is the beauty of life, i think. and that is the beauty of my story and yours. that in the end, our God will shine through.

this recent pit that i was in, it's a chapter in my story and it's coming to a close. and i am glad that the suicidal thoughts are going away, again.

but i don't want to push it to the back of the closet and forget it. i want to remember it and treasure it and tell the world about it.

because i don't see depression as a weakness. and i don't see it as something to be ashamed of.

we've all been sad. and we're certainly all broken. so i don't want to see another person left without a friend when they're in that kind of a place. a dark place like depression. the side of depression that makes you want to end your life. get rid of your whole future and all the possibilities.

i thought about stopping this blog, but in the end, i knew i couldn't.

because in the midst of wanting to end my life in the middle of the night, i kept thinking i could never do it. i thought, "if i give up, i'm basically telling all the people of this world it's not worth it."

which is stupid. because it is worth it.

it's just about finding the strength in yourself- the strength that comes from God alone- to pull yourself out of the pit.

and i know it can be so dark some days, sweet heart. i really do know and i get it.

but the fight is always worth it in the end.

so let's make an agreement between us, okay? let's say this: 

you don't give up, i don't give up.

we'll make it out of this alive, you and i.

we're gonna be okay.

we'll get through this and we'll be okay.

wake on up from your slumber.

  

listening to slumber, covered by heavens to betsy

well i willingly admit to being a rather crappy blogger lately.

i've been getting emails, texts, and facebook messages asking where i am. people wanting to hear more about haiti.

i want- i have wanted- to share more about it all.

but truth is, this heart has been a little withered lately.

i've had some relationships in tangles lately. and i've been missing haiti so much it hurts. and there's always boys. and school. i'm also trying to get this band on it's feet.

and all the while, i've wanted to blog. but every time i tried i just couldn't find the words.

and it was frustrating, but i have this rule, you see. i've got this deal with God.

and that rule is that i don't write unless i feel led to.

and i haven't felt led to.

finally, today, my fingers felt the urge to type again. my heart felt full again. so i tried putting out some words. and i felt like singing again.

* * *

i hadn't felt depressed, really depressed, in a long time.

and lately, the old feelings were coming back again.

the past, i think, was coming back to haunt me.

and i started to panic.

i didn't want to go backwards.

and i felt like my whole being was pretty much screaming it at God.

i didn't want Him to let me go. not when i'd just got back from out of my dark place. my hole.

i've spent the last two weeks in a really sad place.

i had all these people wanting to know more about haiti, here, on the blog, but i was still processing things. i still am. i'm trying to figure out what life is like here in the states for me now. cause haiti changed everything. it really, really did.

and i think that over time, more and more from haiti will start emerging here. you'll see more posts, i think. you'll get to know those that are now my family better because of what i plan to write.

but this coming back has been rough, guys.

and i need some time.

when you go somewhere like haiti, it shakes you up quite a bit. it makes you question what you thought you were supposed to do. or at least, i am questioning my purpose now.

it's making me wonder if i'm not supposed to live there some day.

and i already know i'm going back.

there's no question of that.

if i didn't, i don't know how i'd stay sane. i really, really don't.

so i'm just trying to get a firm grip on things right now. i'm trying to figure out a whole lot. not really healing, just trying to figure out stuff. stuff. so much of a whole lot i can't even put it all into words.

but i just wanted to come around and say i am alive.

and i think that i'll be okay.

i just need time to do some soul-searching.

love you all, dear hearts.

choosing joy. hannah.

three.

listening to:

heroes by all time low (clean edit)

- being asked to join a band!!! guys, my God is seriously the best thing ever. He wants my dreams, too.

- lots of haiti reflection.

- pumpkin bread

happy sunday, lovlies!
hannah

it's okay to change your mind.

i missed haiti from the moment my team and i boarded the plane.

i was already missing my sweet kids. and all the other friends i had made in just that one single, yet amazing and completely life-changing week.

and when we got to miami, i felt out of sorts.

i didn't feel at home.

and when i was finally, really home in missouri, i felt like i should be back in haiti.

funny thing was, when i was in haiti, i didn't miss missouri like i thought i would.

i missed the people back here that i loved, but i didn't miss the hot showers like i thought i would. i didn't miss the vanity. because when i was in haiti, i didn't think about much makeup. i didn't think about what my hair looked like. or if i was covered in dirt.

and i liked that.

and i miss it.

and i am trying to bring what i learned back there back here.

but truth is, coming back to the states has been hard.

very hard.

i get frustrated when i hear people complain about little tiny things.

i feel guilty sometimes when i have what looks like too much on my plate.

but mostly, i just miss people back in haiti. back at my home.

and i want to go back.

and i know i'll have to at least go back every year.

because i don't want to lose touch. and i don't want to forget. and because i love it so.
so very much.

and- and these are big words for me to type.
 and i can't guarantee i wouldn't live there someday.

* * *

right before we left, my mom had briefly thrown out there that i might love haiti so much that i might become a missionary.

i looked at her like she was crazy.

the sound of it all didn't even appeal to me.

it was something that was for other people, but not for me.

but when i go back, now, and look through my pictures and see each of those sweet faces, i can't imagine not going back.

and i don't want to see them just once a year. i don't want to visit haiti just once a year.

that's not enough.

and i don't know what that means for me at this point.

i just know that i love kids.

and i feel that it's my duty to encourage them, and love on them.

and i've got this heart that's tugging towards haiti.

but i don't want to rule anything out, either.

i've got all these dreams and ideas for myself.

all i know is i have to, absolutely must, go back home.

home to haiti.

because right now, it's all that i think about anymore.

and this, i know for sure, is a part of God's plan.

choosing joy,
hannah

and happy friday, lovlies. (:

when we love the least of these.

just a quick little something for your day, and something that's been growing more and more in my heart every day since haiti.

xx. hannah.

how a heart can belong to two places // loving haiti

the night before i would begin the trek towards haiti, i was extremely nervous. i was shaking, and my mind was filled with all the "what ifs". what if i get kidnapped. what if i get rapped. what if don't come back. what if i am killed. what if my team members get to know me better, and think i'm weird. what if they don't accept me.

i was so focused on all the negative that could happen, that i wasn't even thinking about all the positive that would happen. that did happen. that, in the end, became a life-changing experience.

haiti is now my second home. and it's people, and each and every one of my fellow team members, are now my second family.

and those are words i feel so blessed to be able to type today.

our first flight was early on sunday morning, to chicago. from chicago we flew to miami, where we stayed over night.

this is rose. whom i dubbed rosie for the week. she is kinda sorta brilliant.

the following day (monday) we took our final flight on to haiti.

and when we finally hit the haitian ground, it was like being in different world.

different people, different places. different culture. different atmosphere. and a completely different sense of safety.

we hopped on the bus that drove us around for the entire week and started off to the site where we would be working. and it was then that we got our first real glimpses of haiti.

that colorful bus is called a tap tap. because you "tap" the bus when you want a ride.

this is susan.

this is paul.

one thing i later realized was how when we drove past the haitian people each day, you didn't ever just see people on the sides of the roads, like you do back home. at least for me, back home, i would always just see people. i didn't ever really identify them as all walks of life, all unique faces with special stories to tell.

in haiti, i did. we all did.

when we reached the work site, we first went inside the church where we would run both a medical clinic and an eye glass clinic. next to the church was a school, which a bunch of our guys ended up putting a roof on.

the church/clinics -

setting up the eye glass clinic.

my dad met this little boy through the window who didn't speak much english. so my dad pulled out his little haitian dictionary and began speaking to him.

the pharmacy. i was the pharmacist. (:

after day one of set up, we all headed to the hotel where we'd be staying for the week.
the view from me and rose's porch -

a couple of my team members discovered these critters in their own rooms -

we started off our first day of work (tuesday) by making a quick stop at the local pharmacy -

and when we reached the work site, i met these sweethearts on the front steps -

this is my girl, "Fala".

me and my dad's main work station at the medical clinic -

some of my dad's patients -

one of our team members, bruce, and some young teenage boys he met -

me and sweet "Gigi" -

on our way home from work either wednesday or thursday, we stopped at our translator's house and met his wife and brand new baby boy. we met these precious ones outside -

this is my bro, conner, and some of his boys.

this is chris, and just some of the many kids who mobbed her. she is a child-magnet with all her sweetness and stuff. she is so amazing. i love this woman.

he saw that i was taking pictures :)

joann.

at the work site: some of my patient's notes -

early on in the week, our team met a young mother who's precious baby girl was suffering from some serious health problems. she was old enough to be sitting up on her own, but couldn't. as a result, her mother had to lay her down on her back when she wasn't able to hold her. the baby also couldn't stand up on her own. she was paralyzed. so my team helped piece together a special seat for her, so that she could sit up and see the world around her for the very first time.

near the end of the week, we called the mother and her daughter back to the clinic so we could give her the seat and show her ways to stimulate her daughter's brain, hopefully to get her daughter's legs working over time.

in the end, this mother gave her life to Christ.

* * *

some of our guys got together and built a wooden frame for the seat, and some of our girls ripped apart a skirt to make a cover and straps:

rose, warene, and lauren. i love these ladies.

this is lauren. she was our seamstress.

this is the little girl. and this is mike and lisa.

mike. he is just a big softie.

the finished product. we were so proud.

after work each day, we would often spend our downtime at the beach -

proof that i love what i do. <3

my room number.

near the end of the week, we all took a trip to the market, which was basically like the haitian version of walmart. this trip turned out to be one of the highlights for all of us, getting to see how the people lived up close, not from the bus windows.

we exchanged our american dollars for haitian dollars, called "gourdes". i believe one hundred gourdes is like five american dollars.

pretty much everything we tried at the market tasted like fish.

my dad and mike both ended up buying hats.

that same afternoon, rose and i got to go outside the clinic and play with the kids that live around town and also go to the school that we put a roof on.

this is Cassandra.

the boys liked showing us how to be cool (above) and the girls loved to braid our hair.

lauren.

rose.

me and my girls.

on sunday we went to the church service held at the church we worked at all week. right after, we would have to say goodbye amidst many tears and hugs and kisses. and even more promises to return.

it was hard to say goodbye. and even now i get a little bit panicked when i think of not going back.

because you can never forget something that gave you so much to remember.

i feel so incredibly blessed to have been able to take the trip. to have grown so close to so many beautiful people because of it. to have had my eyes opened to how blessed we truly are here in america. to become more and more thankful each day that i am back home now. to have been able to see Jesus even in the bad and the dark and the evil. to have grown to love haiti so much. to have learned about how other people live and to get to experience a taste of it. to have been able to have helped so many. to have shown people how Jesus loves. how much He loves them. to even bring some to Him.

it is still amazing me every day how my heart can be split between two places:

kansas city, missouri.

and merotte, haiti.