"How blessed is he who considers the helpless..." Psalm 41:1

Saturday, January 16, 2010


Praise the Lord, we survived the quake!

Dorothy Pearce, my sister, and myself were on our way to Sacred Heart Hospital (CDTI), near the strongest area of the earthquake when it occurred. We had just left HIS Home for Children, where the 21-month old boy I am in the process of adopting livesMy initial thought was we were being bombed. In the car about 20 yards from the hospital gate we saw walls crashing into the street ahead in a wave toward the car. Not knowing what was actually happening all I could think of was to put the car into reverse. Dorothy was able to make one call out to her son in the US and the best we could hope was that he would tell our families that we survived the first quake.

Upon arriving to the hospital patients were being evacuated and injured people came to the gate from the streets. The nanny, Jesula, staying with 7-year old Poutchino from Dorothy's Infant Rescue was on the curb in shock. My sister, Natasha Taylor, ran in for young, sick Poutchino. 

Hospital personnel worked throughout the night. The parking lot quickly turned into a massive clinic with severe devastation all around. Dorothy and I took turns holding a flashlight for a surgeon who was stitching wounds and gradually learned to do more. The screams of pain, devastation, and sorrow became a constantThroughout the night people banged on the large metal gate to get in. Bodies lay spread all across the hospital parking lot with cries and the stench of blood and urine. Dead bodies were being stacked off to the side. Eventually many people were given IVs, they hung from tree limbs and parked cars. Later that evening the nurses and doctors distributed pain pills. 

After holding a flashlight and surgical instruments I sat down from feeling light-headed and of nausea. On the curb a 12-year old girl who had just had a hand injury wrapped lay nearby watching me. I smiled to her and she slowly grabbed my hand. As I comforted her in a language she doesn't even understand she moved and curled her body around my feet. Eventually after she told me she was cold and needed a blanket I helped to carry her to the back of our car where Jesula sat trying to recover from shock and Natasha cared for Poutchino.

I spent much of the remainder of the night comforting this young girl. We sang and prayed together. She moaned and cried for me to hold her and to lay down. Elevating her arm that was bleeding rapidly thru the gauges was difficult. I cannot even begin to describe the night sitting there with her as she moved around and finally fell in and out of sleep. 

Around 11 a.m. we finally got word that the children at Dorothy's home were okay. Then shortly after noon the two of us ventured out to the street in search of food and water, not knowing how we'd get the car out to get home because it was too far to walk. There were so many people, displaced and wandering, some with their belongings and a disturbing yet promising feeling of calm. Until the shock wears off the riots had not yet started. Nothing was open! We found no food, but were able to buy water and bottle soda and headed back. 

Almost 24 hours later one of the cars belonging to a doctor was moved so that we could move a minimal amount of bodies to get the car out of the parking lot we lived in for a day to make our way back to the house and to check on the children in the orphanage. Despite rumors in the US that we had talked to our family we had no communication with friends and family back in the states. We arrived home and took Poutchino to get an IV from Chris with HIS Home for Children. This allowed me to see my son for a few short minutes and he is OKAY. 

The next morning I went to the airport and spent from sunrise to almost sunset alone with others trying to leave. My flight was scheduled for that morning. I stayed not even knowing if commercial flights would be running and without communication to get a ride back home if I was still there at nightfall. The airport remained closed and despite US military taking it over, very little planes came in outside of reporters and crews. I fought a mob of people holding American passports to get onto a Vision Airlines flight that was less than half full, headed to Miami. Praise Jesus! MESI JEZI! 

Upon arrival to the US all I want to do is go back. My sister and the children at Dorothy's home are okay, but quickly running out of provisions. Last night I found out that my son and those from HIS Home for Children have been displaced. The house did not hold up from the aftershocks. Words cannot express the amount of worry, nor the amount of faith this takes for all involved. It is devastation beyond comprehension. There is a reason God wants me home (for right now)... even if it's just a voice for the people of Haiti and what is going on there now. They have need for protein-based food, water, fuel, and most of all CASH!!!! ANY amount of donation you can give is appreciated! 

God bless,


meg duerksen said...

i am praying for you.

jessie said...

i have never met you, but came across your blog via the aboutkc.com website. i just wanted to let you know that i am praying for you and your safety and those precious children. may the lord be with you.