April 1st-2nd

Perhaps I should introduce the characters in our story. By age there is Julio, an 18 year old mild tempered red head from Costa Rica who’s sarcasm is always well timed. Then there is Alyse, also 18 and from Vancouver, Canada, Ester, age 20 from Korea who’s Korean name is so pretty if only I could nail the pronunciation. Then we have Brian, husband extraordinaire at only 22, and Wade, 23 an eager college graduate who grew up in YWAM and is originally from New Zealand. Andrea is also 23 and from my neck of the woods, California, she spent the last 2 years of her life working in group homes for boys fresh out of Juvenile hall or rejected from foster care and her heart is big enough to do it for the rest of her life. Then there is Jon and Tami, both 29, they are from Canada as well. They are our outreach leaders, and have been married under two years. I am proud to say they are Brian and I’s best friends as of yet. Finally there is Phoebe, a dainty blonde at 31 who appears at least a decade younger, she is so moldable and very near to my heart.




After my second night of no sleep, the sun’s light entered the cabin window. I had PURPOSELY stayed up the night before in order to force myself asleep on the plains by pure exhaustion. If only I had known that the middle seat of the isle was mine all night from Los Angeles, California to Miami, Florida. I envied the woman next to me who appeared to sleep at ease, as well as my husband who occasionally leaned my direction only making it harder to find an ounce of comfort in this seat stuck in what felt like a 90 degree angle while my feet froze from the AC and were upright on top of my carry-on luggage that clearly was never going to fit under the chair in front of me.



I knew we had a 6 hour lay-over in Miami before we flew to Port-Au-Prince, Haiti and my first priority was to get SOME sleep. The terminal floor looked so inviting but before I sat down I was told we were leaving the airport and going to Wade’s aunt’s house for breakfast. I had heard of this plan before but I was so drowsy. ‘NOW?!’ I thought. I wanted to sleep on concrete but instead made my way to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.



A few minutes later Wade’s uncle arrived, clearly a new Zealander he was friendly and energetic. Being in the state that I was, I could barely manage a smile. All ten of us crammed into his car that sat seven. (Typical YWAM habit from base. Someone yells “Wal-mart” and people cram into cars like it’s the last helicopter out of Vietnam) When we arrived at the house five minutes later the smell of food eluded to the overwhelming hospitality that awaited us. I heard someone say in the back ground, “She makes everything from scratch”. ‘Who?’ I thought. Who was this angel-stranger making us breakfast?



We entered the house and before my eyes was something I thought only existed in fantasies. The inside was straight from heaven. The high ceilings let in the light of the early morning to reveal white washed walls and soft looking white sofas. There was a dark hard wood floor that led to the 60’s style checker board floored kitchen where the aromas of food I had only dreamed about was brewing. As my eyes adjusted I found vases and bowls of white shells, big and small on every surface. The living room was filling up with us YWAMers so I made my way to the dinning room where a large white table came into focus. Next to it was a white futon littered with inviting pillows. Since I had yet to meet my hostess, I made my way into the kitchen only to be met at the door by a lovely thirty-sh woman with long chocolate brown hair that curled just at the ends. She was wearing a gray floor-length beach dress and was just as perfectly kind as she was classically beautiful. She started to bring out large white dishes, one by one. My eyes could not believe themselves. Before me were fresh scrambled eggs, a heaping plate of bacon, a basket of homemade fresh bread, baked tomatoes in oil, and to top it all off cinnamon and raisin hot cross buns, made from scratch. Breakfast was served and I felt like Peter Pan when he and the Lost Boys pretend to feast on their favorite foods, except all the flavors were real. This degree of hospitality was so overcoming. This family’s history I learned in the car blew me away once I was here. Not only had they traveled a great deal doing missions, but had two blonde children named Sofia and Sebastian who were the most polite kids of ages eight and six that I have ever met. I was already in love with them, being so overcome by their love, but when their brindle colored bull mastiff entered the room and they announced his name was George, that’s when the full revelation hit me.



It wasn’t until this day I understood why hospitality was so important in Jesus’ time and well before him. I had never been a weary traveler before but now I fully understood how God’s love is shown through hospitality. This family had gotten up and picked us up at six in the morning and had breakfast waiting when we arrived. This was the kind of affection that feels embarrassing to receive but it feels so good that I never wanted it to stop. Just like God’s love. We were so undeserving, complete strangers in fact but yet these people lavished their love on us. The feeling of weeping that often visits when I get a deeper revelation of God’s love was inescapable in this house. How could I ever repay them? Or even thank them enough?

These questions rolled through my mind the way they did the first time I received revelation of God’s love. But the answer was the same as that first encounter. The answer is: I can’t. I can’t repay them, or take the time to express with words how much it meant to me. The only thing I can do is receive it and respond to it. So that’s what I did. Just like God’s love and salvation, their hospitality was a free gift, and we could either take it or not. Either way, they were going to get up at six and the food was going to be on the table. The work was going to be done out of love for us and no insisting would have stopped it because they loved us simply as fellow YWAMers and friends of their nephew. Just like God did all the work so we could take part in Edenic pleasure with Him because He loves us simply as His kids. The kingdom of heaven is like that home in Miami. There is pleasure and rest for the weary and wandering above and beyond what would meet needs. There is love that blows the mind and brings weeping (Being loved in the fullness of what love is always brings weeping ). There is love so overwhelming you are embarrassed to receive it because you think you have nothing to offer in return. But Christ died not for what we could do for Him, but what we can do with Him. Which means being with Him, in every day life.



I am so beyond blessed to have God with me in every day life, and to have witnessed this manifest love of God again towards me just before we go to pour it out in Haiti.