Blessed are they that mourn

I got home Sunday evening and I’m still exhausted. I haven’t been sleeping well. I turn a corner in my car and instinctively look for crumbled buildings. I look at my children and want to hug each one of them and cry. We were warned by the social workers on our trip that we would have a period of adjustment when we returned home. I didn’t think it would be me though. I am so used to going and coming from Haiti. But not this Haiti. Not the Haiti where everyone has a tale of sadness, of death of a loved one, or of a miraculous escape.

There has been talk of salvaging the rubble to make roads. If you use large magnets to remove the rebar, then crush the concrete you can make an admirable road filler. Haiti needs paved roads, clean water, garbage collection and a government that cares about its people. Might as well start with the roads. How will it feel driving down a road made of the pieces of misery? Will each crunch of rubber over what once was someone’s house release a scream?

Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted.

A wise friend shared with me this quote by Stanley Jones:

“The most absolutely happy people of the world are those who choose to care till it hurts. The most miserable people of the world are those who center upon themselves and deliberately shun the cares of others in the interest of their own happiness. It eludes them. They save their lives and they lose them.”

I don’t know why terrible things like earthquakes happen. I don’t know why so many people have to suffer. I believe that there are opportunities for each of us to care till it hurts, to comfort those who mourn, to make a difference, just as there are opportunities to turn our faces away from suffering, to ignore those in need, to stay inside our own lives.

I hope the world doesn’t turn its face away from Haiti. If it does, I don’t think

Haiti will survive.