As I grumbled today about the fact that my home was broken into recently, and how I’ve struggled to feel safe again after the break-in, a little sign in my kitchen challenged my mindset.
I traveled to Haiti in November 2010, ten months after the horrific earthquake physically and emotionally devastated millions. We visited several temporary homes: heavy-duty plastic tarps stretched over a wooden frame, perhaps 15 x 15 feet in size, any belongings the family had salvaged crammed inside with a little room for cots. The light inside was tinted a spooky blue as the sun filtered through the bright azure plastic.
Several of the families had wooden plaques nailed to the wood framework that read, “Dieu dirige ma maison.” It literally means “God directs my house,” although I think we’d say “God guides my house.”
It struck me that these were strong people, if they could still believe in God after a catastrophe like this. I bought myself one of those plaques and it hangs today in my kitchen.
And today it struck me that as unsafe as I sometimes feel, try living with nothing but a piece of plastic between you and the world. If they can continue believing in God’s supernatural protection, so can I.