when you're here

To be here. Where a 4-hour plane ride brings you to a place that seems like an entirely new world. Where rain hitting the roof is a deafening, beautiful sound. To be here. Where you've received more hugs and hello's than ever before. Where the car horns honk and the bodas weave between the streets and how could you have forgotten it all? To be here. Among the faces you didn't realize just how much your heart missed until you were back. To be here is good, so good.

The past few days have been a bit exhausting, but also wonderful. With last minute packing insanity, a 4:30 a.m. wake up, the last of the always-dreaded goodbyes, and being in O'hare for 6 hours due to flight delays, I felt worn out before I even left Chicago. Roaming the airport Thursday morning, I was asked by airport security, "Little girl, are you a minor traveling alone? We can escort you." I suppose my timid shyness doesn't exactly help my 5'1'' 15-year-old-looking-self seem more my age? Despite the slightly rough start, once I arrived in Florida everything went smoothly. I took my last hot shower, ate my last leafy green salad, and sent my last texts for the next few months. Bittersweet.

As the plane neared Haiti and land came into view, I couldn't keep the smile from my face. From the runway I spotted Ray's car and that chocolate-colored, 4-year-old, almost-practically-bald head poking out of the front window I knew to be Jantzee. I feel like the weight of the goodbyes always presses in hard the last week or so of being home, and it wasn't until that moment that I realized the sweet hello's that were about to take place.

The morning was spent running around town doing errands. The plane was unloaded and customs cleared all by 10:30. Being greeted by Ray and Bonnie, and Nikki and Jason, and Lovena and Jantzee at the airport was the sweetest. I can't imagine coming back to any other place without them, they're all pretty amazing. All the errand running around Cap made me feel like, in some ways, I had never left.

The afternoon was completed with Michael cuddles and picking the glitter from Carl's face and having my hair torn braided by Rodenflor and Maria and being called "Hannah" again. Pretty much the usual insanity I grew accustomed to before I left. It was exciting to see a lot of the changes that have taken place on the compound since December and to cuddle some kids again and catch up with everybody. I unpacked my things that evening, put sheets on my bed and called it a day. After a quick phone call home, I was out by 7:30. We party hard here in Haiti, what can I say?

Now the rain is pouring, the drops pelting the roof, creating a deafening roar. Children are running about the compound screaming, laughing, dancing, and fighting. There's frogs croaking and the rush of Creole words all about. And in this moment here, I'm struck by the beauty of it all.

This.. this coming back to Haiti, was never part of the plan. At least not my own plan. Sometimes the absurdity of it would hit me when I was back in Chicago; what in the world am I thinking, returning? The beauty of it all brings me to my knees; here I am, in a country I never anticipated being in, doing something I never imagined myself doing. But all along, there was One who knew the entire story. The realness of this truth has hit hard the last few days: I deserve none of this. All of this, it has been Him; ordained by Him, for Him, from Him, because of Him. He works and moves and plans our days in the most amazing ways, and I'm so thankful.

So, friends, to wrap it up in a nutshell.. being back in Haiti is sweet, so much sweeter than I anticipated. And it's pouring rain here, which is so great. And as much as I miss you all, I don't miss the snow or the below freezing temperatures of Chicago. Thank you for your prayers and your sweet encouragement and all of the support you've shown me. Words cannot express the depth of my gratitude.