Tonight there is a new moon. From what my wife tells me, Haiti at night is pitch black. Imagine how that must be right now. Swallowed in darkness. Now imagine being swallowed in rubble and darkness.
My heart breaks for this country. As if they didn't have enough hardships already.
Lois went to Haiti in 2000. She went with a Salt Lake City team called Healing Hands for Haiti on assignment to write about their work establishing a rehabilitation clinic.
For nine years she has talked about her experience there. She has talked about it often with a gulping, stifled cry.
She has talked about this beautiful place that has garbage piled knee deep on the sides of the streets because the garbage trucks don't run and there's no place for the people to put it.
Now there are bodies stacked there as well. She has talked about the people she describes as lovely and who hang onto hope, always smiling.
For the last two days as news breaks through in bits and pieces, she cries and half screams, "They need equipment!" The rehab clinic that she helped work on is now in rubble and there is no word on some of the staff. But the doctors and nurses that work in these clinics may not even be capable of helping the wounded. Nobody knows. The bandages and medicines that are extremely needed are now buried beneath the rubble.
My wife's niece over at From the Top of the Stairs sent out an e-mail today to friends and family saying that her friend had just gone to Haiti (just outside Port au Prince) on Sunday for what was supposed to be a 10-day humanitarian mission helping out in an orphanage. She has a broken ankle and cuts, but there is worry of infection. Another thing buried in the rubble is antibiotics.
I was thinking of what Lois said the other night, "It is pitch black and the night is filled with screams. I can't imagine."
Tonight this keeps running through my mind and I am praying for some comfort and hope and help.
My heart breaks for this country. As if they didn't have enough hardships already.
Lois went to Haiti in 2000. She went with a Salt Lake City team called Healing Hands for Haiti on assignment to write about their work establishing a rehabilitation clinic.
For nine years she has talked about her experience there. She has talked about it often with a gulping, stifled cry.
She has talked about this beautiful place that has garbage piled knee deep on the sides of the streets because the garbage trucks don't run and there's no place for the people to put it.
Now there are bodies stacked there as well. She has talked about the people she describes as lovely and who hang onto hope, always smiling.
For the last two days as news breaks through in bits and pieces, she cries and half screams, "They need equipment!" The rehab clinic that she helped work on is now in rubble and there is no word on some of the staff. But the doctors and nurses that work in these clinics may not even be capable of helping the wounded. Nobody knows. The bandages and medicines that are extremely needed are now buried beneath the rubble.
My wife's niece over at From the Top of the Stairs sent out an e-mail today to friends and family saying that her friend had just gone to Haiti (just outside Port au Prince) on Sunday for what was supposed to be a 10-day humanitarian mission helping out in an orphanage. She has a broken ankle and cuts, but there is worry of infection. Another thing buried in the rubble is antibiotics.
I was thinking of what Lois said the other night, "It is pitch black and the night is filled with screams. I can't imagine."
Tonight this keeps running through my mind and I am praying for some comfort and hope and help.
