Haiti's Cry of Grace
Like you,
I’ve been watching the news from Haiti and
wondering how that small nation will lift
itself up from despair. So much has been
destroyed, ruined, and wrecked. So many lives
have been lost, and those which remain are
tattered. But all is not lost in that nation.
Listen closely and you can hear people’s cry
of grace.
I watched on the news last night as a husband vigilantly kept watch over the site where a bank once stood and his wife once worked. Now a pile of rubble, people told him that his wife would never be found. He should go home – wherever that might be now. But, he kept returning and he kept digging with whatever make-shift tools he could find, and, ultimately, he could hear the faint voice of his wife coming from below. He then waved down a visiting Los Angeles rescue crew to help him, and they dug some more, eventually lifting her out from the debris. The news report’s final scene was of the woman driving away with her husband in their car.
What was most striking to me about this scene was when the LA rescue crew placed the woman on a stretcher as she was pulled out from the rubble. There, spontaneously, she broke into song, her melodic voice celebrating life. To me, her spirit and smile were signs of grace amid despair.
I once gave a speech entitled, “Thought My Soul Would Rise and Fly.” This line is from the second verse of the song, “Free at Last.” The words make up one of the most beautiful lines I have ever read. The slaves began singing the song long before the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863. It was an act of faith when they sang it. It was a belief in the future – that it could be dramatically different from their present day. It reflected their hope about what might become. It was an expectation about what might be brought forward. It was about how tomorrow could be different from today.
I am so very thankful that so many countries are racing to get so much aid to the people of Haiti. The food and medical supplies and equipment are desperately needed. And more will be needed, especially in the months to come.
But amid all the donations and logistics I am drawn to the grace of Haiti’s people. In another news story I saw from Haiti, a group of people had gathered together after nightfall to sing songs. There, in a circle, their voices were clear and strong. They had reportedly lost their homes, but not themselves, their spirit, their hope.
It would be easy to focus only on the pain and hunger and despair in Haiti. But I believe we should also hear the cry of grace from Haiti, and recognize people’s humanity. This is their gift to themselves – and to us. It is the song of grace.
I watched on the news last night as a husband vigilantly kept watch over the site where a bank once stood and his wife once worked. Now a pile of rubble, people told him that his wife would never be found. He should go home – wherever that might be now. But, he kept returning and he kept digging with whatever make-shift tools he could find, and, ultimately, he could hear the faint voice of his wife coming from below. He then waved down a visiting Los Angeles rescue crew to help him, and they dug some more, eventually lifting her out from the debris. The news report’s final scene was of the woman driving away with her husband in their car.
What was most striking to me about this scene was when the LA rescue crew placed the woman on a stretcher as she was pulled out from the rubble. There, spontaneously, she broke into song, her melodic voice celebrating life. To me, her spirit and smile were signs of grace amid despair.
I once gave a speech entitled, “Thought My Soul Would Rise and Fly.” This line is from the second verse of the song, “Free at Last.” The words make up one of the most beautiful lines I have ever read. The slaves began singing the song long before the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863. It was an act of faith when they sang it. It was a belief in the future – that it could be dramatically different from their present day. It reflected their hope about what might become. It was an expectation about what might be brought forward. It was about how tomorrow could be different from today.
I am so very thankful that so many countries are racing to get so much aid to the people of Haiti. The food and medical supplies and equipment are desperately needed. And more will be needed, especially in the months to come.
But amid all the donations and logistics I am drawn to the grace of Haiti’s people. In another news story I saw from Haiti, a group of people had gathered together after nightfall to sing songs. There, in a circle, their voices were clear and strong. They had reportedly lost their homes, but not themselves, their spirit, their hope.
It would be easy to focus only on the pain and hunger and despair in Haiti. But I believe we should also hear the cry of grace from Haiti, and recognize people’s humanity. This is their gift to themselves – and to us. It is the song of grace.