"Teacher, Don't You Care That We're Drowning?"

The rental car was loaded up with the leftover gluten free meals we’d been given from a week of training at the MTW home office. It had turned into a beautiful day and we were keeping our plans to see parts of downtown Atlanta we’d never taken the time to explore. Every time I left the home office that week I would get updates about this virus I’d been following for weeks because we had just spent time in Tokyo. It seemed every day this thing was coming closer and closer to our doors.

              The sun was finally out..and the weather was so nice for the first time that week that on any other “normal” day my biggest concern would’ve been taking my hair into consideration when wondering whether or not to keep the windows down once we hit the interstate… 

           But this wasn’t an ordinary day. Our week in the office had been spent in support raising training and in meetings with the marketing department about how to improve our video ministry long-term. Each day there were rumblings of Covid-19. Handshakes became elbow bumps and friends who hadn’t seen each other in months navigated the awkward tension of whether or not to come close. By the time Friday rolled around we had altered our original plans to be away a bit longer so that we could get home, get things in order, and help our church with a live stream of our “new normal.” 

           With any major event in history a time comes when we talk about where we were. Where were you when Kennedy was shot? Where were you when the towers fell?  I don’t know which of the many days or events or press conferences from this season will be the ones seared in my mind many years from now, but I do think the sunny drive in a rental car down I- 85 after we’d been “launched” out officially as missionaries with MTW will stand out for me. Filled to the brim with thanksgiving and excitement to go do ministry, we couldn’t really process all that had happened in our very full week at the home office that afternoon. Instead of talk about it, we decided to turn on the radio as we drove through Decatur, Kirkwood, the 4th ward, and Mid-town Atlanta. 

Passersby in downtown Decatur wearing masks made me think of our time in Tokyo, where culturally it’s very normal to wear masks even when there’s not a pandemic going on. 

                  But in Atlanta? 

The President came on the radio to announce a state of emergency. He began to describe a new way of life for the first time. Terms that only 2 weeks later we are so used to hearing….ideas like drive through testing and stay-at-home orders were being described really for the first time. The crisis was here.

           There is no doubt now that we’ll all know a before and an after of Covid-19.   Since that drive I’ve had countless video calls, phone calls, texts - some with people I talk to weekly and others with family and friends who I don’t reach out to enough. Now, we just want to talk, “see” each other, and know that the other is okay in a time like this. One question that remains for me each day is the question of how to be at peace in this time of turbulence. How do we balance the state of emergency on the radio with the reality that the sun is out right now and I would love to have the car windows down!? 

           Many stories of Jesus’ way of handling suffering keep popping in my head lately. One that I can’t shake is that of the storm that comes in Matthew 4 when Jesus and the disciples are in the boat. Where is Jesus during that storm in the story? Well…. he’s sleeping. 

                I must admit that amidst some of the stories - people dying, losing jobs, missing celebrations - my first thought or cry has been “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” (Mark 4:38). The stories of loss, loneliness, fear, and death are some days too many to count and too much to handle. It is tempting to wonder with a watching world…

                                                           ”Where is our God?” 

In the very next verse of Mark 4 it says “He (Jesus) got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, ‘Quiet! Be still!’ Then the wind died down and it was completely calm..”

             Did you see what Jesus did? He got up! It was the wind he rebuked. He said 

                                                            “Quiet….be still!”

This makes me think of another time stillness is talked about in the bible. 

 He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth.” Psalm 46:10

       The God of the universe in that moment tells a life threatening storm to be quiet and still. And he tells me to do the same. Why, because he is up to something. 

The disciples’ response to Jesus asking about their fear and faith is to be even more afraid…..terrified even…this time of the awesome power of a God who is completely in control.

“ 41 They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!” 

           As we fear in this time, let us fight to be still. Maybe it’s spending more time in God’s word than you’re used to. Maybe it’s making a prayer calendar for all the needs you see swirling around you and committing to pray for these needs in a time where you can’t be present with your hands and feet to help. Maybe it’s starting something new or finding new music to sing along and worship to. What are the ways you can be still as your Savior, your Provider, your Friend, stands - in His timing - to calm the waves and storm around you? 

             I think all of us can agree that the disciples’ fear in that nasty storm was a totally understandable response. The key question is, what are we asking of God in this time? Are we asking for his help, or are we asking…”why don’t you care?” 

            As we wrestle with the new normal of Covid-19, may we see in this story and so many others that Jesus did actually calm the storm. May we watch the waves with assurance that the one who stills them is in the boat with us. May we take this opportunity to be still ourselves and know that He is God. He took on flesh to walk among lepers, among the diseased, and dying, that we might have life and have it abundantly. He will be exalted among the nations. May we wait and watch as He stands. 

What we're watching, reading, listening to: 

In light of Covid-19 keeping us home and our fight to be still and know that God is in control, we wanted to share with you some of the encouraging resources we've enjoyed in this time. Please check out some of these articles, songs, and resources that help with steadfastness, faith, hope and a little laughter in a time when we desperately need it. Do you have books, articles, websites, podcasts, etc that are helping with hope in this season? Please reply to our email and share them!! 

The Bible Project's Church at Home            Some Good News with John Krasinski

Gospel Coalition Coronavirus Articles.         Tim Keller: How to Deal with Dark Times

Online Sermons/our church’s livestream.      Thirty MInutes With The Perry's Podcast

Free Audiobooks from Audible (C.S. Lewis)    A Mighty Fortress During Covid-19

Photos Featured in ByFaith Magazine

Over a year later and I’ve only been able to talk about certain aspects of this day. This was one of the most challenging days and things I’ve ever experienced as a photographer. Never have I been so burdened by the suffering I saw and at the same time convinced there is a God who meets us in our suffering. Many thanks to ByFaith Magazine for showcasing these photos of people who were hurting, who are likely still living in a camp somewhere, and the stories of those who have answered the call to walk alongside the hurting. I’m continually thankful for the work of the missionaries of Mission to the World and those who are teaching us to "love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners”Deut.10:19

Azizi Life...Muhanga District, Rwanda

For one day while in Rwanda, Kate and I got to go outside the city to the Muhanga District where we spent the day with 7 women who are artisans with another co-op, Ingobokarugo Cooperative, in Rwanda. They make baskets and jewelry that they then sell through Azizi Life who sells their items to folks in the UK and the states. Through purchases of these items, the women are able to earn an income for their families, provide a way for their children to go to school, and contribute in other ways to their household.

These women opened up their home and time to us to show us what a day in their life looks like. We did everything from hoe in the field to carrying the cow’s lunch on our heads, to preparing their one meal of the day to learning how to make the jewelry they make ourselves!

This was an extremely eye opening experience. I saw families and children who live completely on the land…and there’s a joy that I couldn’t explain. These people are living in what to us here in the states would be seen as some of the most impoverished situations. But they have everything they need…and then some. In these communities, the families and neighbors share everything. When it’s time to kill the pig or cow…it’s shared with the entire community. When someone needs a house..all the men in the community come together to make the mud bricks and build the home. This mentality and way of life is fundamentally different from so many other cultures in the world. This is also what made the genocide and the murder of neighbors by neighbors an all the more shocking reality.

I’ve already touched on the ways this community and village were affected by the genocide and what that did for us during our stay there. You can read about that at this link…

http://www.claireelysephotography.com/blog/?p=8968

Something happened that day that I will never forget...As we were leaving the families including all of their children sang and danced for us. While dancing their traditional tribal dance, they were thanking us for being a part of their lives for the day. They don’t know us…they definitely don’t understand us and yet they were so welcoming…they then asked us to sing and dance for them. We of course weren't prepared and even laughed at first. But then we decided to sing Amazing Grace. They had never heard the song and it was a very moving experience. We began to get emotional singing it and had a hard time getting through the song. It occurred to each of us while singing about grace and eternity to those who don't even speak the same language that one day we will all sing together. We will worship and sing praises to God with members of God's family literally from every tribe and every nation..

when we've been there ten thousand years..

The kids in the villages all run to the street when they hear a car coming. They don’t see cars very often so when one pulls up they drop everything and run after it…waving and often yelling “mzungu!” which means “white person!” The photos of the kids and families doing this are some that I will treasure forever. The experience of that joy and welcome given to strangers was the gospel being played out. There is something in all of us...something that is not of us and it is God’s work to restore chaos in a broken world. Out of this chaos is a redemption that can be felt in the smiles, the dances, the hugs, the claps of even those who don’t even know the same language as us…and even in the car chases by children so excited to see someone different from them…there is a hint..a whisper of God’s grace, goodness, generosity, and joy that is real and that being in this world we have the privilege to share with others.

You can support the women and families seen in these photographs and other Rwandan artisans by visiting the link below:

http://azizilife.com/

And if you're ever in or near Rwanda, go visit Azizi Life and spend a day in the life of these people. You'll be changed forever.

http://azizilife.com/get-involved/experiences

^" After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. ¹⁰ And they cried out in a loud voice:

“Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” Revelation 7:9-10

Thanks for stopping by,

Claire

A week in Kigali, Rwanda...{Baton Rouge Photographer}

Back again from photographing in Kigali.

I have to be honest, the hardest part of doing this kind of work is coming back to the states. This is not because I don’t miss people or am not ready for my own bed….because believe me….I miss both equally! This is partly because I never feel like it's quite long enough and partly due to what I can only describe as culture shock. This is something I can remember experiencing for the first time when I came back from a trip to Mexico my first year of college. I was only there a week. I spent time in huts with people who had diseases that would likely never be healed. My job was to assist the doctors there by taking vitals. The doctors did what they could to make these folks “comfortable” and occasionally provided the necessary medicine or procedure that would take them out of the state they were living in each day. After a week of working with these doctors, sleeping on the floor, and showering outside, I remember riding back to LSU trying to process what I had seen and realizing I didn't have many answers to the questions I was asking. I had only seen or heard of mud huts on t.v. with images of malnourished kids. I had only imagined such living conditions as I had seen that one week and didn’t like to think that life like that existed out there. I remember our van pulling up to LSU’s campus and through exhausted eyes, I turned and looked at something I had seen day in and day out but this time it looked very different. All of a sudden, the clock tower on campus seemed so huge to me. I remember thinking “that tower is so big!” and then I remember having a legitimately confusing thought…”Is it necessary to have such big buildings? Everything is so tall here!”

 Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not knocking large buildings and anyone who knows me knows I wouldn’t knock just about anything on LSU’s campus as it quickly became a second home to me during my time there. (Not to mention it’s the most wonderful campus and school there is but I digress).

The point is….when I go to other countries... developing, third world countries….when I see how, honestly, the majority of the world outside of America lives...when I experience the immediate slowing of time, priorities, values, and status... when I see hurting or see the effective way that other cultures live…I have a hard time coming back to the states. The states and western culture are fast-paced in a way I can’t really describe. The emphasis on success, money, fame and finding oneself is so overwhelmingly preached in every aspect of our culture that I have to be honest and say that it takes quite a few days to jump back in..and to fight a confusing cynicism.

Last week I spent a few days in Africa. I spent time with a group of 12 women at a little co-op in its own corner of Kigali, Rwanda. I saw a work ethic much like, yet so different from ours in the states in order to provide for families that had been ripped apart by war-torn nearby countries and by Rwanda’s own experience with genocide 20 years ago. I experienced confusion in trying to not only communicate with those in the culture, but understand the differences in them and in our life experiences. I spent the day with women in mud huts who live off the land, have no idea what time it is throughout the day, and who I could bet have never seen a building as tall as LSU’s Memorial Tower.

 

I experienced all these things and how do I feel now?...more confused than when I left! I feel more closely now the frustrations that there are millions out there who suffer every day. More than ever I am angry that poverty exists, uncertain why God put me where I am with what I have, and more joyful than I could have expected that he truly does comfort and care for his people.  I could sit here and write about all the things that I learned…and I will :)….or act like I understand why cultures are the way they are and what goes into them…or even pretend to define one as better than the other. The truth is…it’s times like this that the only definition or label I can put on any of it is that I only know a tiny fraction of how God is at work in this world, what he’s doing to “make all things new,” and the way that sin has complicated all of it. I don’t have all or even many of the answers and I so easily feel the effects of that when I try to jump back into our culture or as I attempt to answer others’ questions about my trip and time in these places. I don’t know how to answer many questions…but I am going to attempt to tell whatever stories God has for me to tell through my time there and anywhere else he takes me. Hopefully throughout the process whoever reads this will learn a few things about what God is doing in their own lives, understand the world a little better, and maybe even purchase some items made by folks on the other side of the world who because of reasons we can't know will never know life like we experience here.

For the next couple of weeks I will post once a week on our time in Africa, the people we met, the stories we heard, the joys and struggles that I or those I love experience there, and how you can help. This is not to pretend I have answers or to condemn our own culture or where God has each of us. It’s in order to answer the call to speak about the only one who has the answers and what he’s, for whatever reason, sent me in the world to do for such a time as this. So if you think to, please stay tuned and return to see photos and stories. This as always is a process full of uncertainty and more questions asked with every perceived answer.

What a joy to have been given the freedom and invitation to ask.

 

More to come.

Be sure to check out Noonday Collection and Azizi Life

Thanks for reading and thanks for stopping by,

Claire

Zakat & Zanfan Lakay...Port au Prince

The editing for all the Haiti photos is coming to a close. I still have more photos and stories to share, but was reminded this morning of a moment I've told folks about but didn't realize I got a photo of.

One of our final days in Port au Prince we took food to some people who live in the street next to the iconic Cathedral that was all but destroyed in the earthquake that hit Port au Prince in January 2010. I was able to look inside one of the "homes" people have made and saw a tarp for shelter, broken down boxes for beds, and two jugs for water.

This is all they had.

I'm thankful to have a photo of it..I didn't even realize I had taken one from afar. I'm thankful to have a reminder that God's grace has been given in ways I don't even think about from day to day but not because of anything I've done. I need this grace just as much as those living in tents and just as this grace was undeservedly given to me, it's possible for them as well. It's good on this Friday to remember that the boys and girls we came to love in Port au Prince at Zanfan Lakay, the home for children of the street, no longer live with just a tent, cot, and the clothes on their back. They now, by the grace of God and the gifts of people in the states, have a home, new family, shoes, clothes, some of them even education, and all of them the chance to hear of this grace on a regular basis.

I’ve mentioned a few times already the boys home we worked with which was our main connection to working in Port au Prince.  The home is named “Zanfan Lakay” which means “children at home” or “home for children.” Before I show you images of these boys, and girls, I’d like to tell you and show you a little from where some of them came.

You've already heard Naika's story and the ways God is using Zanfan to provide for her in tangible ways. Each of these children have a different story…but all are orphans. How they came to Zanfan Lakay or were taken there is an array of backgrounds and stories. The first members of Zanfan Lakay lived on the street. Some of them for 3 years in a place called Zakat. This area is close to a sewer where many folks live.

(the sewers flow through the streets of Port au Prince along with endless trash)

We had the privilege of visiting Zakat and seeing where these boys lived for months and years before God provided a home, food, shelter, shoes, and clothing for them. The following images are of Zakat & the room the boys lived in, some of the boys who lived there the longest, and our team feeding some of the people who are still living in the area & on the street.

The boys came from living  at Zakat, to being  taken in by Jimmy, who they refer to as Papa. With the help and support of local folks, teams that regularly come into Port au Prince, and families in the states, these children have food, clothing, shelter, and more than half of them are able to go to school. The older boys help teach and care for the younger boys & we even got to see them encourage each other with the bible and share the verses that encourage them the most. This is Zanfan Lakay:

How you can be praying for Zanfan Lakay:

Jimmy's wife, and Zanfan Lakay's house mother died unexpectedly this year. They are currently in a major transition and grieving a huge loss of their loved one and for the home.

After having to find a new house because of a spike in rent, the children have recently moved to a new area of town which means new schools and new adjustments. The hope is that Grangou will be able to eventually purchase the home the boys just moved into.

There are still children in the home who aren't able to go to school. Pray they would receive sponsorship and the funds to be able to attend and the possibility of your own family sponsoring a child to go to school. For more information on how to sponsor children please visit Grangou's site here or comment/email me (hello@claireelysephotography.com)

Please pray God's work through Grangou and Zanfan Lakay as well as the teams that regularly visit would expand to other needs in Port au Prince and continually bring good news to each of them.

Check out a photo of Zanfan Lakay's new house here!!

Thanks for reading and stopping by,

Claire

The Darres...Port au Prince, Haiti

The story of why and how we went to Haiti can be found on these previous posts here and here.

I had the privilege of getting to serve in Haiti alongside Kate, my dear friend and roommate, and thought it only appropriate that you should hear her perspective and see some of the things we experienced through her eyes.  This is what she had to say about our time at the Darres':

On our first full day in Port au Prince, we had the opportunity to visit a local pastor and his family who had recently decided to take in and care for 6 special needs children.

This family, the Darres, lived in the heart of the city, and had very few resources to care for their own family, let alone for 6 new children who required extra attention. Yet, they had a heart for serving these children, and the faith to trust that God would provide what they needed.

My aunt, Kandis- the physical therapist from Texas, had held a clinic for 40 special needs children at the home of this family before and had warned us that when we got to their home, we might see some things that made us feel uncomfortable, so I tried to be prepared for what we were about to experience.

(or as prepared as it is possible to be when in Haiti… )

When we arrived at the Darres' home, my first sight, ironically, was a blind man sitting outside the door where the special needs children were. He was tenderly holding a baby, and he very much seemed to be a kind of gate keeper for these children. Even though he couldn’t see them, you could tell from the way he held them and talked to them that

he loved them very much.

After speaking to the man, we peered into the dark, window-less room where the children were liying on the concrete floor on tattered mats. Kandis told us our only job was to go inside and love on them, hold them, laugh with them, play with them. And we were happy to do whatever we could.

The temperature in the concrete room was well over 100 degrees and several children had very high fevers. As I sat down on the floor and began to fan flies off the face of a two year old boy with cerebral palsy, I was overwhelmed with anger and frustration. He was crying out and obviously in severe pain and discomfort, but there was very little I could do to make him feel better. In that moment, I was so mad at the brokenness and fragility of this tent of a body that we carry around with us, disgusted with the lack of medical care available to people in these circumstances, angry at the ugly mark that sin has left on this earth.

At the same time, I thought about every time I obsessed about my body or appearance, every time I griped about a “first world pain”, every time I neglected to show patience and mercy in a situation where someone was desperately crying out for help. As I continued to hold this sweet boy, doing anything I could to communicate that someone was right there with him, God hit me over the head with a complete feeling of helplessness. As someone who (most days) feels like “if I just work harder, maybe tomorrow I’ll have it all together” or “I-can-take-care-of-myself-thank-you-very-much” , I have a hard time grasping the extent of God’s provision for me. But through this experience at the Darres' home, I envisioned myself and my circumstances through the eyes of this child- unable to do anything for himself, completely dependent on the mercy of someone else to provide for his every need.  Without someone-his nanny, his caretakers, a volunteer-coming in to stoop down, pick him up, and take him outside to experience the sunshine, he would always lie on the floor alone.

But God always provides exactly what we need. And for this boy, and every other child at the Darres home that day, God provided wheelchairs. These wheelchairs, which are worth close to $10,000, were donated by people in the United States who knew that my aunt takes them to people in Haiti. She doesn’t bring the wheelchairs with any specific person in mind, but inevitably, they always fit someone who needs them. That day at the Darres, my new friend was picked up off the floor and put in his very own wheelchair. This provided almost immediate relief from a lot of the pain he was experiencing, opening up his lungs and allowing him to breathe more easily than he could on the floor. Even though he will never run or walk, he also will never spend every moment of his life lying on the floor. God lavished His grace on these children through the gift of a new, better way of living and experiencing the world.

Praise God that He graciously gives that same gift to all His children.

(The following images are of the 6 children who received medication and wheelchairs from donors in the states and the men, women, and  children who care for them.)

If I'm honest, this was one of the hardest things to photograph while we were there. Sorrow and joy were both very real at the same time. I would say these photos accurately portray the many ups and downs of the week and encouragement that came in the midst of grieving. It's hard for me even to post these photographs as we saw these children living in what I can only describe as the worst of circumstances I had seen at that point...but oddly enough...they're better off at this home on this hot floor than in the tent cities where they came from...more on that soon.

If you or someone you know has access to wheelchairs or medication to be taken to Haiti on future trips please email me (hello@claireelysephotography.com) or comment below.

Check out our connection to Haiti and the group of boys we went to serve here.

Thanks for stopping by,

Claire

Naika Walks...Port au Prince, Haiti

While in Haiti we did several different things throughout the week and got to servein multiple ways. Today, I’d like to talk about one of the many things we got to be a part of and our  original connection to the opportunity to go.

So, Kate, my dearest friend and roommate, who is now a continuous help on wedding days and practically partner in this business, has a lot of family that have loved me as well as she has over the years. One part of this family that feels like my own is her aunt in Texas. Kandis is a physical therapist who works with special needs children in a school district right outside of Houston. She originally found out about Grangou’s work in Haiti through her own church.(more on  Grangou and what they specifically do through the boys’ home we partnered with in Haiti is coming). For the past few years, Kandis has been taking wheelchairs to Port au Prince and providing assistance for special needs kids.

I’m going to pause my story here in order to give a shout out to American Airlines. A couple of days before we left, Kandis’s husband, Steve, went to talk to American Airlines about our flight. At this point Kandis had collected 7 wheelchairs and a gait trainer from current clients who didn’t use these particular chairs anymore as donations for her to take to those who need them in Haiti. We also wanted to take 6 checked bags full of clothes and medical supplies which was a priority since shipping these items is pretty much impossible (they will likely be stolen before getting to the right folks). So Steve went to talk to American Airlines about all these bags and wheel chairs. The guys at the counter remembered Kandis and her many trips with wheelchairs and Steve showed them pictures of some of the kids she goes to visit. American Airlines decided to let us check all the wheelchairs, gait trainer, and 6 bags..for free!!! Since starting a business, I tend to get super excited when I see people run their businesses well. I know many people have issues with just about every airline out there as traveling has sometimes become a nightmare for folks so really I couldn’t believe they let us do this. That’s kind of a big deal these days. It was a very redeeming and hopeful report in my mind and so I think American Airlines could use a shout out.

So…Monday morning we trekked to the airport, trailer in tow, with 7 wheelchairs, a gait trainer, and 6 huge bags full of belongings of our church members and medical supplies our friends had donated to people they didn’t know. It was a pretty awesome sight and the first of many humbling moments on our trip. When we arrived in Port au Prince after a very long day of travel, getting initiated right off the bat into the very different culture of Haiti simply by arriving at the airport, waiting…and waiting…and waiting some more…we met our team and had dinner at the hotel. While visiting with team members we were told in passing about Naika, a little girl who had recently been taken in at  Zanfan Lakay, the street boys’ home we would be working with. Naika couldn’t walk. She had to be carried to get anywhere and held sometimes by multiple people in order to do any basic tasks you and I take for granted every day. With Naika’s condition, most children in the US would have the resources and therapy to be walking by her age. Naika is originally from the cemetery where many men and women live within the walls and amongst the graves.

I had heard of people living in the cemetery all throughout the trip but it wasn’t until we got back that I found out what these women live in. There is a cemetery in Port au Prince that has 24/7 guard service within its gates. There are women within the gates of the cemetery who have been allowed to live there and given “protection” by the guards in exchange for prostitution and “servicing” the guards on a regular basis. These women live in the cemetery, are abused and used by the guards, and often become pregnant without a way to care for their child. Naika became a part of Zanfan Lakay, the boys' home, because, Jimmy, the house dad at the home regularly takes food and clothing to the women within the gates. Naika was likely born with cerebral palsy and there was no one to accurately care for her within the gates, so Jimmy took her in.

I mentioned a gait trainer was donated to Kandis before we left. The thing about these wheelchairs and supplies Kandis gets is she takes whatever folks can give and doesn’t really know who in Haiti will need them, what size these folks are or what size their chair would need to be. She just takes what people give and sees how she can use them when she arrives. This trip was the first time she was given a gait trainer to take to Haiti. A gait trainer is basically a walker which is used for children who have cerebral palsy or other issues walking or using their legs.  In the U.S., if  a child with cerebral palsy is given the care they need from a physical therapist, the child can learn to walk with a trainer and even get to the point where they are able to walk on their own. Again, Kandis hadn’t heard of anyone in Haiti that she knew would need a gait trainer, but brought it anyway knowing we would likely find a use for it. God provided the trainer for Naika long before Kandis or our team knew about Naika’s need for it.

The following photographs are of the first time Naika walked. This happened our first day in Haiti. With all of the boys and girls from the home and our entire teamwatching, Kandis stretched Naika’s legs, stood her up, and then put her in the gait trainer. At first Kandis helped her get acquainted with the device and helped hertake her first few steps…and then the smile that came was full of more joy than I think I’ve ever seen in a smile as Naika began to do it on her own. Her face had suchan expression of redemption and hope. It was the first of many reminders that God is at work amongst these people, that he saves the lost, that he came for the poor and broken, and that he literally causes the lame to walk.

The next day, Naika walked the length of the front patio area by herself. She even got to watch a video of herself walking on her own.

With the gait trainer and the help of the older boys at Zanfan Lakay walking Naika each day, she will now have the opportunity to be stimulated each day with activity, go outside on a regular basis, play with other children, and we pray eventually be allowed to go to school and get an education

(something she can’t do now as the schools in Haiti do not take special needs children and much of the culture views those with special needs as unwanted and cursed.)

Throughout the remainder of the trip, Kandis was able to give all 7 wheelchairs to those who needed them and purchase an additional chair for a man who lives in a tent city where we delivered food throughout the week. More on those who received the other chairs and how God used our time there will be in later posts and stories.

If you know of a way to donate wheelchairs or funds to purchase supplies and medication needed to treat children like Naika or if you want to learn more about how you can sponsor one of the boys or girls at Zanfan Lakay, please comment or email me (hello@claireelysephotography.com) or visit Grangou’s website here.

"And he answered them, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised

up, the poor have good news preached to them." Luke 7:22

Thanks for stopping by friends,

Claire

Haiti...an introduction.

I’m going to start with a little back story. I explained in my last post some of why I went to Haiti. But it hasn’t been until I returned that I am beginning to understand more why I went.

I think just about every time I first meet someone, inevitably in the conversation, the question comes:

“so what’s your favorite thing to photograph?” or “so why are you a photographer?” or at the very least “so what kind of photography do you do?”

The answers to these questions are answered swiftly, without much forethought, and then followed by other conversation. I think after Haiti, the answers to these questions can’t really stay the same. And I’m thankful for that.

 Yet, in the back of my head as I answer these questions, there’s always this one nagging question that I usually keep to myself:

 Why did I pick up the camera in the first place?

 I don’t ask this question in a way that assumes I never should have picked up a camera, or that I regret my career choice.  It’s more of a little reminder to consider why. And God giving me the opportunity to go to Haiti was that little reminder played out in real life.

 You see, I picked up a camera years ago as I struggled to know what I wanted to do with my life. Back then I thought I wanted to maybe be a “counselor.” This idea revealed that what I value most is having real conversations with people and serving others. That was the desire in a nutshell. As I’ve gotten older, studied photography in college, shot 3 years of weddings, started life on my own as a single woman out in the world, and had to make a decision of what I will follow, what I’ll live for, and ultimately what my mission will be…the desire to serve others hasn’t changed- it’s just become more focused.

The thing is, I originally picked up a camera because I saw that, for whatever reason, God had provided a gift, and a desire to use it and other gifts in order to help. I just haven’t been able to put to words what that “help” actually looks like or means. I've only part known what it means and why I picked up a camera to go, to serve, to use photography and this device that somehow by the grace of God stops His time in its very tracks in order to connect people, to bring awareness, and to bring money, aid, and help from people who, without these photographs, would not know about the need.

 Until Haiti.

 Since our return, I first of all got sick, which laid me out for a week. But honestly I can see the sickness was a very good thing for me in a lot of ways because it helped me process and settle back in. It also granted me a whole lot of time to read, research, and look deeper into this thing tha,t for lack of a better term, is titled “humanitarian photography.” For those who know and love me well, I’ve been throwing this term around for quite a few years in hopes it’ll stick and be something I could pursue. There is no definition in the dictionary for a humanitarian photographer, but a humanitarian is one who

1.

has concern for or helping to improve the welfare and happiness of people.

2.

of or pertaining to ethical or theological humanitarianism.

3.

pertaining to the saving of human lives or to the alleviation of suffering: a humanitarian crisis.

 I’ve thought a lot about this term, this idea and desire I’ve always had, and the comments and ideas of other people who strive to be “humanitarian photographers.” I don’t have it all figured out by any means and I never will, as I’m not the one to know what God has for me now or in the future or why He does what He does…but I’ve been able to realize that long ago God put in me a desire to do something for reasons I may not have been able to put into words, and now He’s given me a little bit deeper understanding than before. I’ve realized that this thing I’m wanting to do with the camera, this aid I’m wanting to bring, this “alleviation of suffering” and desire to “improve the welfare and happiness of people” cannot and will not be separated from the ultimate need and goal of the gospel being that which saves them. I’ve read a lot about bringing dignity to others through photographs. Something I’ve always thought about is somehow using photographs to bring an awareness of people’s conditions and for people to open up their wallets and their time in order to give back after seeing what some people are living in. These are all still missions of mine and ideas I plan to pursue…but the point is..now, more than ever, it’s clear to me that all of these things can’t be separate from a desire to speak the gospel, to make the love of Christ, our need for it, our brokenness, and the grace that came from a man, who wept most of his time here because of the brokenness he saw, that humbled himself in order to go. I can go to other countries and take pictures of people in order to bring dignity to them in the midst of their circumstances, and I can photograph them with a smile instead of a frown in order to show that God made them in his image, and I can stop time in its tracks with this tool that God will likely use to bring money and time and concern from others….but if I do it without bringing the message of the saving grace of the gospel. If I reduce it to “happiness” and “welfare” or even “food” and “clothing” but do not bring the only “alleviation of suffering” there truly is…then what am I doing?

Some of the things we saw and experienced in Haiti are still difficult for me to know how to talk about. Some of my response has been fear to look at the images because I get overwhelmed. How am I supposed to put words to these images and reduce these people, these situations, these circumstances to a bullet point beneath a photograph? The truth is I still haven’t gotten to the answer of those questions. But I know I am to try. You hear people saying “I need to give a voice to these people” and I do. “ I need to bring dignity to these people and show others that they have hope, life, joy, and even faith..sometimes more than we do in here in this culture”..and I do. “ I need to do my share and give up my time and energy and money for these people who can’t speak loud enough on their own.”…and I do. But if I separate it from the love of Christ or from the saving knowledge that I am just as broken, just as helpless, and that it’s only by the grace of God that I have the opportunity to show a beggar where to find food…then I’m just another humanitarian, just another helper, and it’s just another 7 day pin-point on the blip of the radar of my life. God has called us to more. And I don’t know what it looks like in the day- to- day, or if I’ll have a chance to do another trip like this one or photograph those who are hurting and starving and naked and in danger…I hope I do…if it were up to me I would. All I know is I got to go to Haiti, God provided a way to photograph and speak His name while there, and now it’s my job to try in my limited understanding and ability to tell these people’s stories and thereby bring an understanding of the brokenness of all of us…not just them. So the next few weeks will be a very flawed and pathetic attempt to show all of us our need of the very thing that played itself out as we watched hurting, starving, naked, dying people…

...a Savior.

 

This is just an introduction and start of many, many photos I have and plan to show. Please bear with me as I process, in every sense of the word, the photos I was able to take and stick around to see more and hear some of these peoples' stories if you can. Thanks so much for reading, friends.

And thanks for stopping by,

*Claire

p.s. I'll be telling more soon about the group we partnered with but check out their website to learn more:  http://grangou.org/