Yesterday was a fairly routine day. It started out with morning devotions followed by school transitions since Nicole was still home and in the space, but had non-school tasks occupying her time. She left at 10:30am for a meeting, which left me in charge of lunch and kitchen science time. During breakfast, Nicole had suggested the possibility of making both bread and cinnamon oatmeal muffins. I agreed to the undertaking, aware of the fact that it would require some effort since I'd be handling both "creations" with the children on my own.
Around 11am, we began working on goodies. I had Tessa helping me get the bread dough mixed. As the final stages of kneading were happening, I started Riah on the cinnamon oatmeal muffins. Sophie did not feel up to overseeing Riah in the process of doubling the recipe, so I helped Riah mix the dry ingredients in preparation for Sophie to finish them. I was prompting Sam through the process of getting a salad washed to supplement the taco salad leftovers we had from the previous evening. In the midst of everything going on in the kitchen, Madame Gabriel (the cook who prepares meals for us a couple times a week) arrived and it was responsibility to "instruct" her on her tasks for the day. I only had to direct her to the note that Nicole had written before leaving and provide her with the necessary items to make the meal. Seemingly an easy task, yet without a decent grasp of the language, it became complicated.
The Kreyol phrase "tet chaje" which means I have a lot on my mind was certainly applicable. We managed to get the bread set to rise and the muffins finished. I had Sophie put them in the oven (in the guest kitchen, where Madame Gabriel works, because ours doesn't heat) while I finished chopping vegetables and opening containers of leftovers. Just as I beginning to create my own plate of food after helping the kids with their plates, I realized that the muffins should be checked. I left the children to their lunch and walked down the deck to the guest kitchen. Entering the door, my nose registered a slight burning scent. Approaching the oven, my eyes indicated that the temperature was set too high. Opening the oven door, my skin immediately confirmed what my eyes had seen. I quickly tried to "save" the muffins, only to accidentally brush the back of my hand/thumb on the wire rack above the one on which the muffins were set. I grabbed the muffin tins out of the oven with hot mitts and carried them over to our space.
As soon as I set the muffins down, I turned the water on and threw my hand beneath the stream. The cold water barely felt cool, so I broke a piece of ice out of the freezer to hold over the skin that I know realized was already showing signs of having been seared. At this point, the children were noticing that something was wrong and so I returned to normal activities because it didn't hurt that bad. When Nicole returned home, we decided to apply some burn ointment.
Bibliotec was to begin at 3pm. We still had to finish the bread at that point. I volunteered to watch the bread in the oven while she got started with the beach kids. After the rolls finished baking, I decided to join Bibliotec and just be cautious with my hand around the youth who often hang on me or grab my hand to hold. Guito, one of the compound staff, was instructing the youth on what they need to grow plants and explaining what they need to create their own banana leaf pots in preparation of following weeks. I understoof very little, but still appreciated the time with the children while we played BINGO. My goal was to identify the called numbers before Nicole repeated them in English. Soon into the game, I realized some of the youth were struggling to identify the numbers as well. We worked together during the game. It amazes me how laughter and smiles can surpass language barriers at times. I also escaped the hour without suffering further injury.
You might be wondering why I have gone into such detail about seemingly routine activities. I mean, who really needs to know about my baking escapades? The fact is that these events all led up to a pretty cool experience today and I believe this little details make the story that much more incredible.
Today, school progressed fairly typically. We covered all the core subjects and had some extra time after lunch when I read to the children. Riah often enjoys sitting in my lap during this time, and today was no exception. I mentioned the possibility of taking them all swimming in the ocean, to which they responded positively. After finishing the book I was reading, Riah was squirming in my lap and we started goofing off a bit. The next thing I knew, my hand was throbbing.
I looked down at it to realize the burned skin had torn off, as if it was a blister. I immediately went to clean it with water and cover it with Neosporin and a Bandaid. No longer was I in the mood for a swim. It just didn't seem like the wisest decision. After announcing that we would not be swimming, I was standing on the deck, staring out at the ocean. I just couldn't let go of my desire to be closer to the water.
(The rest of this story I sent out in the day's email update, but thought I'd still include it for those you don't remember or didn't get a chance to read it. Plus I'd expound upon some details since I'm not in as much of a rush this time.)
Instead of swimming, I decided a walk in the waves was in order. I invited the children to go with me if they desired. Sophie waivered about whether or not she wanted to go, but eventually declared that she would like to. Tessa also joined us. As we walked, I mentioned to the girls that I loved being near the water and in the waves because I could so strongly feel God's presence there. One of Sophie's repeated questions lately has been about hearing God's voice. I have been feeling led to share with her about the variety of ways God has spoken to me, but have never felt that the timing or words were right. Still not entirely sure what point I was trying to make, I shared how I am able to sense God's peace and wonder in these experiences.
We stopped after reaching our destination and remarked on the way the coral was exposed. The girls shared some of the differences they note as a result of the earthquake. Then during a lull in conversation, I noticed that Sophie had her eyes closed and seemed to be praying. When we turned around to walk back, I felt God leading me to talk about how He sometimes gives me a little token (i.e. a rock or shell) to remind me of our conversation and/or the promises He has given me. Within seconds, Sophie had leaned down to pick something up off the sand. Over the next couple minutes she repeated this action. At one point I came close to commenting about how sometimes we think we have found that momento, but that God sometimes has something better in mind for us that is lying in wait a bit farther ahead. The thought passed before I felt the freedom to share it, and until sitting down to type this, I had forgotten that it had crossed my mind.
Immediately upon returning to the compound, Sophie got her journal and sat outside by herself. She later shared the entry with me where she described what she identifies as the first time God has clearly spoken to her. I know without a doubt that the words I spoke were not my words, but God's words because in her journal, Sophie had practically quoted me verbatim.
Nicole and I talked as we prepared dinner about how detailed God is in His plans, right down to me popping a blister (the burn) minutes before leaving, that changed our plan from swimming to walking (which also decreased the number of children wanting to go). I feel incredibly blessed to have been a part of this event and encouraged that there will be more to come not only with the Carlins, but also with the work teams and the Haitians with whom I'll interact during my stay here.
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