Lines In The Sand

There’s a basement in all of us and I faced mine this past week.

There are a handful of polarizing events that happen in our lives, lines drawn in sand and a decision that has to be made. To face the hidden, dusty rooms in us, or keep them locked and dark. There’s a basement in all of us and I faced mine this past week.

When asked if I wanted to go to Haiti, there was no hesitation to my answer of Yes. It was surprisingly easy for me to see the line in the sand and step willingly to it, barefoot and smiling. Over the past few years I’ve been bitter, angry and living in a self-enforced loneliness. I’ve pushed away my wife, God, my friends and myself to keep my rooms locked and dark. My hands used to shake when faced with stress, my vision blur and words slur until I just stopped talking, stopped seeing and listening. Over the past couple months I’ve taken the first steps down into that basement and cracked the door, fearful yet hopeful that Grace would be enough to undo the rust.

Being back in Haiti with dirt on my hands, sun in my skin again, centered me. It gave me a place to hold my breath between inhale and exhale, experience peace with the promise of consistency. Sharing smiles and laughter with strangers, American and Haitian, distracted me enough that I could open some of those rooms and see that the things I feared had vacated long ago, leaving nothing behind.

Thank you, Haiti and my beautiful teammates, for putting the keys in my hand and turning the doorknobs with me even if you didn’t realize it. For showing me Grace is ever abundant and near. Thank you.