Missional living
He’s from Haiti, I’m not,
and this is part of our story.
Before we dive in, we’ve got
to rewind about 10 years.
We were 14 and 16 years old
when we each gave our lives
to Christ. We were both at
a point in our lives where
we were cornered by God
with no other option but to
surrender to Him. So, that’s
what we did. It’s crazy to
think that we didn’t know
each other then. In fact, we
were 1,500 miles away from
each other, growing up in
two different countries and
completely different cultures.
It is now very evident that
God was directing our
individual steps throughout
our lives in preparation for the
joint purpose that He had for
us together. It was a beautiful
act of faithfulness when He
led each of us to PPM when
we were 20-year-olds and
then to each other not long
after that.
Let’s fast forward to today.
We are now married, reside
in Mississippi (my homestate),
and serve full-time with
Praying Pelican Missions,
which allows us to travel
frequently to Haiti (Rudy’s
home country). In addition
to going home to Haiti to see
family, eat our fill of delicious
Haitian cuisine, and make
a pit stop at Rudy’s longtime
barber, we also get
to be part of the powerful
ministry that is taking place
throughout the country. We
get to partner with people
like Pastor Delcy, who is a
visionary for his community.
He is leading the way for
sustainability, both spiritually
and environmentally. We get
to take part in the ministry
of Pastor Elbarre on the
southeastern coast, who
loves his community to no
end and wants to see the
Kingdom expand on Earth.
We consider ourselves lucky
to call so many of our pastors
and staff “family,” and it hurts
each time we have to say
goodbye. When we are back
in the States, we spend much
of our time talking on the
phone with pastors and group
leaders, introducing them
to the idea of this impactful
ministry and guiding them
as they plan their trips. It’s a
treat to be able to serve in
both places. We spend about
four months out of the year
at home in Haiti and about six
months of the year at home in
Mississippi. We’re still not sure
where we disappear to in the
other two months! Needless
to say, we live a pretty
unconventional life.
It’s hard for us to articulate
our feelings toward the
contrast that exists between
these two types of lives.
In Haiti, we live out of our
suitcases for weeks, or
sometimes months, at a time.
In America, we have our
chest of drawers. In Haiti,
we eat lots of rice and beans
and delicious fresh fruit. In
America, we eat fast food
and cook together at home.
In Haiti, we hardly spend
two weeks back-to-back in
one city. In America, we’re
pretty stable. In Haiti, we
have fun by driving to the
closest beach, playing cards,
singing, and hanging out with
our friends. In America, we
do many of the same things,
except for the beach part.
Our responsibilities with PPM
look starkly different in Haiti
than do our responsibilities in
America. These two lives are
complete opposites most of
the time, but the funny thing
is they both feel so natural.
Please know that both lives
feeling natural to us doesn’t
mean we’re super-humans.
The transitions back and
forth between cultures still
get to us each and every
time. We experience culture
shock when we travel from
the States to Haiti, and we
experience culture shock
when we travel from Haiti
to the States. Both lifestyles
and cultures are so incredibly
different, that it’s difficult
to make the sudden and
frequent switch from one
to the other. This makes
it so tempting for us to
compartmentalize our lives.
When we land in Haiti, it’s
tempting to put on our Haiti
hats. When we land in the
States, we want to put on our
American hats. We’ve learned
over time that, although that
might be the easiest thing
to do, operating this way
would only short-change the
effectiveness and impact of
our ministry.
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