CHASING WATERFALLS

Yesterday my family joined about two dozen assorted friends driving a bit over an hour over extremely bumpy roads to reach a little known natural wonder here in the north of Haiti: a series of 19 spring-fed waterfalls tumbling through magnificent boulders down a mountainside. 

The road kept narrowing until it disappeared entirely. At that point, we parked and jumped out to hike for the next hour, following the stream towards its source. 

The parking lot:

Johnny in the river. The path criss-crossed the river multiple times.

Selfie with Melissa:

Everything was so very green.

Our destination. The bottom-most falls filled a peaceful, waist-deep pool of refreshingly cool water.

It wasn't long before the kids got the itch to explore the other falls and went scrambling up the rocks to see what they could see.

Johnny was leaping from rock to rock while trying to avoid getting wet. 

For me, just coming off my 49th birthday, it was a day to stop and smell the roses and enjoy some family time. The girls are growing up so fast - and just so lovely.

And our boys are more handsome every day as well.

Bryan and Patti enjoyed the chance to see part of Haiti most people don't even know exists. Even our field director, who has lived here over 15 years, had never heard of this spot.

Many of the pools were deep enough for some great jumps.

Some of the explorers relaxing after their return from the top of the falls:

All two dozen of us were entirely wiped out by the time we reached home in the late afternoon. But it was just what I needed. 

Isaiah 58:11

The LORD will guide you always;

He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land

And will strengthen your frame.

You will be like a well-watered garden,

Like a spring whose waters never fail.

A DAY, A WEEK, AND A YEAR'S NOTICE

A day, a week and a year from now, I will reach the half century mark. Typically a chronic procrastinator, I find some strange inner drive to plan ahead for these big, bittersweet birthdays. 

So I am getting a jump start on two things RIGHT NOW.

1) My second "mid" life crisis. When I turned 40, I couldn't afford a red convertible, so I had to settle for running a marathon. 

When it comes to athletic interest and ability, I have definitely proven to be a late bloomer. I had muscles toned like marshmallows when I was in my teen years and my twenties. In my late 30s, I started to run as a way to exercise a hyperactive dog I owned (briefly). Although my doctor-brother has warned me that someday my knees will rue the day I first strapped on running shoes, I still find running to be a good way to keep the pounds off and to keep my heart in shape. These days, I enjoy the alone time and the opportunity to get some unstructured minutes outside the gates of the mission grounds. 

But there's no way, under the Haitian sun, that I would ever commit to putting in the hours of training necessary for another marathon for my 50th. (Even if my own common sense failed me, my wife would forbid such a thing.) Besides, I don't like to repeat myself. It needs to be new. And bigger. And better.

So that leaves me looking for a viable alternative for 2018. I'm indecisive by nature, so I need to get a start on thinking this latest mid-life crisis through. If you have any suggestions, I'm all ears.

Don't even suggest something EASY like hiking up a mountain and spreading JOY to all the local kids. I did that last weekend. (At least this little guy didn't scream at the sight of me, turn and flee in terror like one of the little girls did. I have a way with children.)

And 2) A surprise party. I know I am not supposed to plan my own surprise party, but I am trying to be a supportive spouse to Melissa and not leave this BIG of an event solely on her plate. She's a busy lady. Besides, I'm not really talking about a "party" at all.  Or, for that matter, a "surprise" ... not in a traditional sense anyway.

You see, I think my 50th would be a great excuse for certain individuals and/or families to come visit us here in Haiti in 2018. It doesn't have to be in April - I will be happy to stretch my birthday out all year long. 

Since moving to Haiti in 2013, we've had some great visits by friends and family members - and sometimes even complete strangers - but I've got a very LONG list of others whom we have yet to see cross our threshold. And if any of those folks on that list should show up on our doorstep, you bet I would be SURPRISED and you bet I would throw a PARTY.

And if you wonder if YOU are on that list - well, you ARE. Believe me.

So I wanted to give you a year, a month and a day to start looking into flights and start lining up those days off from work. (Melissa and the kids and I were reminded this past week with the much-too-early death of a dear friend from our days in Pensacola: there are no guarantees about tomorrow.) 

God willing, there's no better time to plan your trip to Haiti ...

Bring your running shoes and we'll run ... and probably mostly walk ... through the neighborhood.

AVOIDING REGRETS

Built to shelter several hundred worshipers and sporting both a balcony in the rear and a wall-to-wall choir loft above the pulpit, this church building is atypical for Haiti. 

Although I drive past it quite often, this was my first time inside ... and it was a sad occasion: Pastor Joza's funeral. 

An entire battalion of young ushers (in blue shirts in the photo above) were deployed throughout the building to keep order. They kept the main aisle clear but the balcony and stairs and the rear of the sanctuary held a bustling crowd of mourners, shoulder-to-sweaty-shoulder, that spilled onto the sidewalks around the building. It was a three and a half hour service that witnessed, at best, perhaps 30 minutes total time unpunctuated by wails erupting from the anguished crowd. Now and then, four or five ushers would physically carry a thrashing, hysterical woman through the crowd to an exit.

Like all funerals, this was quite a sad affair, but I discovered the secret to making it even worse for myself: regret. 

Joza was a sweet man and one of several pastors on the church's staff. I first met him two years ago when he was a student in my adult English class. Now and then, after the conclusion of class, Pastor Joza would approach me and invite me to come to his church "some Sunday". I, of course, replied, "I would love to." The next year, when he moved on to Level 3 English, he still sometimes poked his head in the door to gently repeat his invitation. 

But there was never a "convenient time" for us to visit his church and "some Sunday" never came. Which is why the irony of my first visit being the funeral really got to me.

Nobody seems to know any specifics about how he died, only that he went to the hospital one evening and was dead two hours later. He was 46. 

James 4:14b: "What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes."

Regrets can either fester and depress or they can propel us forward with new resolution. So a few hours after returning home from the funeral, when I got a phone call from Wesly, my response was quite different than what it otherwise might have been.

Wesly is another of my former English students. Over the last few months he has sought me out in person, online and over the phone to ask if I would be willing to visit an English program he has created with two friends, meeting on Saturdays a few miles from here where one would turn from Route 1 to head to Plaine du Nord. 

I confess ... I had told him each time that yes, I would be glad to come - "some Saturday". 

So when this latest phone call came, I was primed to give him a definite "Yes, I would be glad to come ... TOMORROW." I had no idea what to expect - if I was observing or teaching, how many people were involved or exactly where to go. Although short on specifics, I was able to talk Caleb into tagging along. He's usually up for a little adventure.

Wesly called me twice on Saturday morning, making sure I was serious! He met us at the Total gas station and guided us to the largely empty campus of a grade school where he and two friends conduct English classes for interested folks in the community each weekend. 

Classroom selfie. That's my little buddy Wesly in purple.

It was a hoot! Caleb and I were both ended up outside of our comfort zones. I was nudged out of that zone but Caleb was dragged out - and performed well under pressure. About fifteen minutes into my ad-lib of a very basic introductory English lesson with Caleb observing, one of Wesly's friends popped in and pulled Caleb upstairs to a more advanced class ... to teach! Caleb rose to the challenge and we didn't see each other again for the next two hours except in passing as we flip-flopped classes.

I was impressed by the drive of Wesly and his two friends. They have started these English classes for next-to-free, but they are counting on word of mouth to build to the point where they can start charging fees to "put a little money in our pockets". 

They call it "A Sunny World English School".

I like their school's slogan at the bottom of the sign ... but I don't quite understand it. ;-)

They wondered if both I and Caleb could come back every week. I told them I was certain that would not be possible, but we'd be more than happy to make a return trip in the near future. And I fully intend to keep my word.

Saturday turned out a much better day than Friday...

SPRING BREAK WEEK

Cowman usually enjoys an early spring break because OMS Haiti tends to choose the week of Mardi Gras as the best time for our annual missionary staff retreat.

My family was excited to be going to the Dominican Republic for a few days and especially excited to have Pastor Phil Dicks from Grundy Center, Iowa join us as our retreat leader for the teens. The week most definitely would not have been the same without him - he is the life of the party everywhere he goes. You'll notice that most of my pictures from the week include him in one way or another.

He arrived early, so we put him to work planning some special music for our last chapel at Cowman before the break. Here he is pulling the team of Cowman staff and students together:

And they all did a great job - in the matching neon shirts Phil provided for them! We can always count on Phil to bring a lot of enthusiasm and JOY to a chapel service.

Phil also brought a "cajon" - a type of box drum you sit on to play. Here's Hannah taking a turn at percussion during a rousing rendition of "Love the Lord Your God with All Your Heart".

Early Saturday morning, a group of 32 of us boarded a bus bound for the Dominican border. It was a very classy bus. Phil had trouble looking out his window without undue distraction.

After two hours on Haitian roads, an hour at the border and another three hours into the Dominican, we arrived at Sosua by the Sea. A beautiful spot to relax, regroup and reconnect with the Lord.

Because of a scheduling mix up, our retreat leaders (some friends from Florida) and the childcare workers they brought with them were only with us for the first 24 hours of the retreat. The adults talked through some group dynamics issues and competed in a photo scavenger hunt:

While the little ones got to do some games and crafts:

Our teenagers, on the other hand, spent the three days trying to keep up with Pastor Phil.

The adults had plenty of time to relax and enjoy each other's company around the pool.

I got a little father/daughter time after breakfast one beautiful morning:

Pastor Phil kept the teens fueled up on candy and ice cream.

Here's Caleb expending a little extra sugar energy on the beach, trying to perfect his hand stand.

We enjoyed some time of worship together, led by Phil and the teens.

And some karaoke, which sometimes garnered less than stellar reviews from some of the other hotel guests - although Phil always knocked them dead with "Dream the Impossible Dream". Here's Jeff Love, Phil and I performing "Rawhide".

We always appreciate having a few days of meals cooked by someone else and dishes washed by someone else. It gives us time to focus on conversation and laughs. 

On our third and final day, Melissa took Hannah and Sarah to Santiago for orthodontist appointments and shopping (2 and a half hours each direction!) while Phil graciously invited me to join him on a little local adventure - a morning of deep sea fishing. 

Even if I had known ahead of time that we'd be spending four hours on 10 foot swells and that my stomach would be threatening to turn inside out the whole while (and for several hours afterwards), even so I would have gone, because I'm not one to pass up spending time with Phil. 

It was just the two of us, two Swedes and a New Yorker plus the captain and his two shipmates on this rather smallish boat. As soon as we stepped on board, the captain says in a thick but understandable accent, "Upstairs you'll find some life jackets in case this boat goes *BLOOOP*. You never know when a boat will go *BLOOOP* - the Titanic was supposed to be unsinkable and it went *BLOOOP*!" 

About an hour away from land, the wind kicked up, waves crashed over the side of the boat as we went up one side and down the next and I was seriously wishing the captain had gone into a bit more detail about what to do in case the boat went *BLOOOP*. One of the Swedes and the New Yorker lost their breakfasts, but I kept my composure - through sheer will power.

Phil, on the other hand, chatted up one of the crew like the boat was moored to a dock and perfectly still. I was impressed.

Unsurprisingly with such winds and waves, the fishing was on the meager side: the only catch of the day was a mahi mahi that one of the Swedes got the privilege to reel in. Phil taught me some important fishing lessons: 1) how to pose with a fish and pretend you caught it and 2) how to hold it closer to the camera so that it looks twice as big as it actually was. 

In the end, I decided I preferred admiring the ocean from this vantage point on land. What a gorgeous place!

With some gorgeous people...

There's no therapy quite like beach therapy...

A couple of folks were missing for our traditional end-of-retreat group photo, but this is most of us...

It's back to the real world tomorrow morning when school resumes, but I think the kids, Melissa and I are all feeling rested and ready to continue ministry at Cowman, intent to finish the school year strong... to follow the Lord's leading ... 

to dream the impossible dream!