When You First See Their Faces

Leaving the country without him had always been the furthest thing from my mind. I hadn’t even considered it…until we knew that God was calling us, both of us, to go on short-term, summer mission trips. We eagerly planned to go together, but in the long run, it didn’t work with the logistics of childcare and our precious littles. Before we knew it, we both had plane tickets to go on our first international mission trips for two different weeks of the summer in two different parts of the world.

We’re inseparable, my husband and I. Really. He’s my very best friend and my absolute favorite person in the world. Quite frankly, I didn’t really know what life would feel like away from him for eight days and as excited as I was for many other aspects of my God-sized adventure, the recurring thought of being away from my little family gave me a lump in my throat every day leading up to the departure.

He never stopped supporting me. He was happy to care for our little guys and he told me one day, “If anyone tells you that they can’t believe you would leave your children for a week, make sure you tell them that I am thrilled for you and that I will take great care of our boys while you are gone.” He firmly added, “Don’t be anything less than positive. I don’t want anyone to make you feel like this is a bad thing.” People did have that conversation with me, and he was right. It really did reassure the well-meaning neigh-sayers if I responded in that way.

Two days before I left for Haiti, I was packing my suitcase and felt that same lump in my throat. I squeaked out, “Are you sad that I am going without you?”

“Just a little,” he said. After a pause, the handsome Music Guy added, “I just wish I could see your face when you see the children of Haiti for the first time. I know your face will light up when you see their faces.”

I don’t cry often, in comparison to most women who are as sensitive as I am. I always feel like I might cry but that doesn’t usually happen. I don’t know why. I always joke that my tear ducts don’t work. (Seriously. My right eye rarely cries at all. Is that weird? I think yes.) Nonetheless, in that moment, I cried. I cried because I couldn’t wait for that moment either. I cried because I knew he was right…it was going to be amazing to meet those beautiful creations of God that I had only dreamt about meeting. I cried because he would have to miss that important moment in my life. Mostly, I cried because he loves me enough to know what really matters to my heart.

The days leading up to the trip flew by…I’m talking complete chaos here. My family and I were planning an 80th birthday party for my beloved Grandpa near his childhood church, made from real pine logs, just past his farm. The music guy and I were responsible for organizing his favorite song to sing with my brother and my cousins. (It turns out that I quite like singing, “This Old House,” by Mel Tillis. Who knew?!) I was also given the job of making the birthday banner to hang on twine in between two tall trees. I really did put forth a good effort there, but I am pretty sure my banner was a bit ugly…what can I say? I was about to leave the country for the first time…it wasn’t my best banner. So, the days were filled with last minute music rehearsals in my living room, packing, family pictures in the country, and birthday partying. I knew for certain that I was going to nap on that first plane ride and I held onto that as the minutes sped by.

Before I knew it, it was Sunday morning and I was rolling a suitcase behind me as I walked into the Sunday School class that I teach. My class joked and kept my nerves calm. One friend said, “If there is safety to find in Haiti, Courtney will find it!” Another did an impression of what my face would look like as I first stepped onto the big truck where we had heard that we would stand for transportation. The laughs really soothed my frazzled soul.

Before Sunday School ended, each member of the Haiti team visited a Sunday School class within our church to talk about the trip and to be prayed over. I found myself in a room of Senior Adult Women with beautiful, reassuring smiles, and they prayed the most thoughtful prayers around the room. When the prayer reached one of our choir members, she looked up and said, “I just have to say something.” She told the room of her peers about a Facebook post my husband had written that morning. She told them about the way he had called me his, “brave and beautiful wife.” (Sidenote: I’m not at all brave. He was being kind…and beauty is in the eye of the beholder as well…but I’m glad my husband is on board with all of that.) The choir member from the Senior Adult Sunday School class continued. She had recently lost her husband unexpectedly and she began to cry. She said, “It means so much to me to see a young man who has such a love for his wife.” Another sweet lady spoke up and said, “Thank you for sharing that. I’m not on the computer.” (Isn’t that precious that they call the internet the computer? I had to share that part simply because of the genuine adorable-ness of it!) The prayers continued and I was on my way.

My husband is the worship pastor and he had planned the music for that morning’s commissioning service for our team. The only congregational song that I remember for certain is, “Lord, I Need You,” and that song is absolutely another post about Haiti in itself! At the end of the service, our team was called to the front of the sanctuary, to the first pew. Our church’s praise team and worship band began to play a song by Josh Wilson, “Pushing Back the Dark.” Like me, Josh Wilson has had a real battle with anxiety and the words in that song encompassed every emotion I was feeling as I sat in front of my church family and beside my team members, some that I had known since birth and others that I barely knew at all. I was about to board a plane and fly away from my three babies for eight days. For the first time, I felt a feeling that I would become well acquainted with in the week to come. I felt an overwhelming feeling of peace that seemed to lay a blanket on top of the fear that I knew existed. I couldn’t feel the fear to the extent that I could feel the peace. I knew the fear was present, but the peace had my heart, because Jesus truly had my hand. I believe that.
The praise team continued and I was able to rest in the lyrics of encouragement.

Whatever you do just don’t look back. Somebody needs the light you have. Whatever you do, don’t lose heart. Keep on pushing back the dark, pushing back the dark.

I think I even tapped my heel a bit. The members of the praise team split the verses into solos, and I can very clearly still remember my husband singing the words of the bridge. As he sang, “When you feel like you’re too small to do any good at all. Let your light so shine like a sunrise through the window. Let your light so shine like a symphony crescendo. Let your light so shine.” He looked away from my teary eyes while he sang, (which was a really great choice because I think I would have been done for if our eyes had met and I didn’t have time for being blubbery on this day. Sometimes I enjoy my stifled tear ducts quite a lot, actually.) I carried those words with me all the way to Haiti. I recited the song to myself again and again through airports and in planes.

Whatever you do just don’t look back. Someone needs the light you have.

All I had to do was put one foot in front of another and follow Jesus. One step forward, then another, no turning around. I remember looking out the plane window and saying, “This is really it. We’re in Haiti,” as I saw the mountains below us. (Remember, I’m not the most well-traveled of people, so this was a big moment in my life. I was fully aware throughout the process that the other team members were much more equipped to just “roll with it.”) I, however, spent a week with my eyes wide open at the world around me. It was the best kind of shock I have ever known and like I said, the adventure came with a huge helping of “peace,” to cover anxieties as they might have appeared. I had only flown for one other trip, our honeymoon. I was amazed at the beauty of the earth from my little window. God was in this too. He had formed the mountains of Haiti and I got the chance to see them.

Upon our arrival at the airport in Port Au Prince, we loaded up in the big truck and in the van. My team went in the van (which had a seatbelt!!! Thank you, God for that transition!) to begin a bit of sight-seeing as we journeyed on the three hour trip to the location where we would spend our week. The sight-seeing along the route was breathtaking! It was so beautiful. Painted houses, flowers I had never seen before, vibrant fish, and then the somber moments at the earthquake memorial all stand out in my mind, but I will always hold that day in my heart for one specific reason.

The name of the place we were touring escapes me now, but the moment is vividly etched in my mind. We were visiting a sugar mill and others were visiting as well. This was one of the few places where pictures were frowned upon, but I don’t think I will soon forget the way my heart felt. My eye caught a group of people in the distance and my feet were completely stilled. This was that moment.

A kind-looking woman topped the hill followed by a long line of children, all meticulously dressed in bright red school uniforms. The teacher stopped the line of children and began speaking to her students.

I don’t think I was actually talking to anyone when I said, “There they are: the children of Haiti,” but my mind went directly to that moment when I was packing and my husband had said, “I just wish I could see your face when you first see their faces.” He’s a smart guy, I suppose, because it was one of those moments when your mind takes a forever photograph that you permanently carry in your heart. There is something about seeing God’s children in a far-away place as a mother. These children, who I might have gone my whole life without seeing, if not for a summer trip, are the creation of God and are every bit as precious in His sight as my own three sons. Yeah, I was a little bit tired from traveling and sure, I was way out of my comfort zone. Nonetheless, my heart was already falling in love with Haiti. An adventure had begun that God would be using to change my heart for His purpose. When I first saw their faces, I knew something that I hadn’t known before. God was working on my heart. He was making me new.

He has made everything beautiful in its time.
~Ecclesiastes 3:11

And He who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
~Revelation 21:5

May our eyes always be open to the beauty of God and His creation. When you look into the faces of His children, may your eyes behold His beauty and your heart be changed to see His handiwork.

From my heart to yours,
~Courtney

If you haven’t ever listened to “Pushing Back the Dark,” by Josh Wilson, you should give it a listen here! The lyrics relate so well to my own life, that I want to share them with you.

One million reasons why, you shouldn’t even try.
After all you’re just one heart, a single candle in the dark.
And there are shadows here, feeding on your fears,
That you don’t have what it takes – who are you to make a change?

The city on a hill, it should be shining still.
Every sinner saved by grace, has a purpose, has a place
Inside the bigger plan, we might not understand.
But if we just keep walking on, we will see the Kingdom come, yeah.

Whatever you do, just don’t look back.
Oh somebody needs the light you have.
Whatever you do, just don’t lose heart.
Keep on pushing back the dark,
Keep on pushing back the dark.

(Let your lights so shine…)
Oh, oh, don’t underestimate the God you follow.
He is the light that burns inside your soul,
So keep on shining ’til the whole world knows.

Whatever you do, just don’t look back.
Oh somebody needs the light you have.
Whatever you do, just don’t lose heart.
Keep on pushing back the dark,
Just keep on pushing back the dark, dark.

Whatever you do, just don’t look back.
Cause somebody needs the light you have.
Whatever you do, just don’t lose heart.
Keep on pushing back the dark,
Keep on pushing back the dark, yeah

(Let your light so shine)
When you feel like you’re too small
(Let your light so shine)
To do any good at all
(Let your light so shine)
Like a sunrise through the window
(Let your light so shine)
Like a symphony crescendo
(Let your light so shine)
We are waking up again, we are rising from the dead
(Let your light so shine)
We are shining like the stars, we are pushing back the dark
(Let your light so shine)
Yeah, we are pushing back, pushing back the dark
(Let your light so shine)
We are pushing back, we are pushing back, pushing back the dark
(Let your light so shine)
Just pushing back, we are pushing back, pushing back the dark
(Let your light so shine)