Today we walked to the village of LaSalle. Though Voodoo has long been Haiti’s religion, the majority is LaSalle is now Christian, thanks to the work of New Missions.  In spite of hunger and disease, the people of LaSalle welcomed us with big smiles and warm hugs. There is joy here, even in the midst of such struggle to survive.

Arms laden with “missionary bags”—cloth bags filled with clothes, soap, toothbrushes, toothpaste, school supplies, baby blankets and anything else we could find—we went from house to house in the village, making friends, handing out gifts and praying over families.  Even with 27 pair of arms and backpacks full, we didn’t have enough for every household.

The walk down the garbage-strewn beach to LaSalle brought out dozens of villagers—children and adults alike. By the time we reached the village, we were surrounded by at least a hundred.  Much like having church on a pickle bucket in Africa, I again witnessed the beauty of authentic church in an unconventional place. We sang a few songs, one in Creole. A couple Haitians shared their testimonies with the group, explaining how knowing God has given them hope and strength. After a short message, Charlie DeTellis, the missionary at New Missions, asked if anyone wanted to know Jesus personally. One young girl, probably 20 or 21, said yes and stepped forward shyly to hear what Charlie had to say. Upon seeing the courage of one, several others joined her and stepped forward as well.

And there on the beach, with the ocean on one side and a village of shacks on the other, a handful of people claimed eternity with Jesus.

And never has it been so apparent to me that only in America are people so resistant to hearing the Truth.