Working, Serving, and a Journey in the Name of Jesus!

The woodshop

Bill and the guys worked on things for the woodshop in August.  He wrote:  “Right now we’re building a woodworking table, sawing a tree into boards for a neighbor’s door (just using a piece of tin now), and making plans for the workshop. A lot of needs all around us: men with no work, kids hungry, bad drought, gardens lost, but with all the troubles in this old world the only real thing we need is to find life in the heart of God……So we share our days, our things, and our life. But the one real thing our neighbor needs to see is that we are what Jesus said we are, the salt of the earth, the light of the world, that they might come to know their need of God.” 

Starting the first spoon!

We were excited to see the woodworking bench come together and the vice be attached so that the men can start learning to make the wooden spoons that can help support their families.  The jalousie windows were put into the woodshop and the open second story which will make a wonderful place for visitors to sleep is being completed.

Being a light to people in darkness is a continual journey with multitudes of opportunities to bless the “least of these”, our brothers.

“Long day with all the usual; cut heads, fungus infections, marriage counseling, and market for food.”  Serving medical needs, providing employment for some men, spending time visiting the sick and troubled in the village, all point to the truths we seek to share with our neighbors.

“Spoke at the little church down the way. Told them about the grand story of God. The fall of man and how satan came to be there. About the conflict between Good and evil over the hearts of men. Then I told them about their own personal story and the battle for their hearts and how we must choose God and be on His side if we want life to be good”. 

The mountains to explore

Aug. 19 – “Looking over the sea to the mountains, 15 miles away or so, that I will be exploring soon. No roads. Only paths some of which I’m pretty sure will have never seen a white man……One foot in front of the other. By the power of His Name.” 

Here is part of the account of that journey that was taken just a few days later.

Aug. 21st – “We sailed across the channel some 11 miles or so, in a 22 foot Haitian keel boat to a bay on the mainland called Grande Baie Du Mesle. I met Sonel there and we set out together. Hoping to get an early start, we decided to find a place to sleep on the way.  But no.  No hotel. No motel. No other convenience along the way. We’re not in America anymore, Toto.

 We continued winding through a valley strewn with coconut trees and people living mostly in shacks with no power and few water sources. Traveled on through the sunset into the night in the rusty old faithful Toyota pickup. We decided to stop where the road forked to sleep in a “pastor’s” house – concrete floor and a blanket! We took it with some gratitude and a little foreboding, not knowing just where we were but trusting we were in the hands of He whose eye is on the sparrow. 

Sweaty, dirty and fairly exhausted, I felt my heart filling with laughter; for we had stopped there to inquire about spending the night at a house with people shouting and chaos descending; they suddenly stopped to ask for our identification! Thought I’d die overcome with mirth at the incongruity of it all. 

Amazingly, I slept some with all the groups of curiosity seekers with exclamations and flash lights coming to see the “Blanc”.

One young man who was there when we arrived having a serious fit of anger – I knew not why – came later in the night with his ear split open to his skull. I learned the next morning he was what they call a Fool.” 

The “Fool”

Aug. 22nd – We sat on the porch the next morning and talked with the person responsible for the Fool. He was maybe 18 and has a beaming radiant smile and sweet disposition. He needed medication to prevent his fits. Was treated badly by the rest of the people as Fools always are, not knowing to such belong the kingdom of heaven. My heart went out to him. Will attempt to contact his doctor at the hospital.

We rolled up our few things and set off to find the end of the road and the beginning of the trail. Getting directions from people is near impossible. So we began the trek with GPS to the place I was led to go. We set out sure we had a destination and we would arrive where we were meant to be. Through the canyons and foot hills our way wound until we stood looking up the path to the village at the top, now known as Janou. 

The Trail to Forgotten People

Two hours of steep ascent would be on the conservative side. My throat dry and raw from sucking air, I willed my feet forward with a prayer to surrender all within me to the keeping of the Father. I felt each step draw me closer to “Him with whom we have to do” and could die content. 

I reached the top as close as I could get to God in body and soul.  Only the “Maker of the mountains I can’t climb” could have given me the strength to carry on.  God and the people gave me four mangos – the juice of which was so sweet and good – and there in a little house, with the rain falling I rested and ended the ninth day of my fast, talking with the forgotten.

We had arrived at the village of Janou on the top – a place of both beauty and abject poverty. I can’t guess how many people lived there. When I asked they just said “many.” They have no school. A five hour hike is necessary for any who want to go.  They had a little place where people can sit (actually a couple of cement walls) surrounded by houses or what we would likely call shacks, nestled in mango and avocado trees with bananas growing all around. It was misty but so that you couldn’t see we were on the edge of the mountain with a grand vista. It was cool but not chilly. A different story at night I bet. People were friendly but a little taken aback, never having seen a white person in their village before. I look forward to knowing them better. Offered me food, Scarce for them, At least not easy to come by and a bed to rest in. Felt so good after the hard pull up the mountain. Talked of their life there, said the older kids mostly all leave for the city. No school. Vertical gardening. Really! Life is hard here but it’s all they know. 

The view from Janou

They tell me I am the first white person to ever make the hike or see their village. May God grant us grace and wisdom to know how to help without hurting and may our hearts be touched through an awakening of His great grace that floods our lives!”

We hope to return to Janou soon, bringing the Jesus Film to show and sharing God’s word.  Thank you for your prayers and for your donations that make the many things JUST MERCY is involved in possible.  If you would like to be a part of the Adventure, check out www.adventuremission.org and consider coming with us!!  Blessings on you all!