When my husband and I decided to take our boys on a mission trip to Haiti, we had no idea how much that one decision would change their lives.

We started to have an inkling the first day we drove through the streets of Port-a-Prince last June. And then we felt it again later in the week when we watched the boys distribute food and clothes to the poorest of the poor and stop to pray for them without a moment’s hesitation. By the time we boarded a plane to leave, we were certain a piece of Haiti traveled home with them. In the months that followed, when I heard one son or the other ask, “When can we go back?” I knew our trip into poverty instead of a trip to the beach was worth every dime.

But this past week, as I’ve watched their grief-filled faces as they absorb the news reports and look at pictures of buildings they passed, streets they walked on, and people they loved, well, I know without a doubt that God was up to something much bigger than I ever dreamed when he took my boys to Haiti last June.

I could be the best mother in the world (and I most certainly am NOT) and yet could never have accomplished in the hearts of my boys what God has done through this week’s devastation, proving again that as much as I love these boys heart and soul …

God loves them so much more.

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