My Friends and friends of GVCM:

I hope you have kept singing the daily songs of praise to our God, who deserves every bit of it. We thank Him for you every day … for our unity in a partnership that is allowing many in Haiti to keep receiving the gospel of salvation through Jesus Christ.

We apologize for not communicating to you more often the wonders of the Lord's work that we witness every day in Haiti. The immensity of the task has kept all of us busy, and we are very busy saving souls.

Last month, I had the blessing of being accompanied to Haiti by a wonderful brother in Christ from Wichita, KS. Aaron Maus is one with a great heart for people and a passion for the Lord. Aaron and his wife Sara are making plans to become the new administrators of the Fedja orphanage in Mirebalais.

I have included at the end of this note Aaron’s account of an experience he had during his trip to encourage you in your understanding that the Lord's timing is always the best. Please pray for Aaron and Sara and support them in any way you can as they obey the call to labor for the cause of our Lord in Haiti.

I also want to let you know that if you planning to be in Atlanta for the National Missionary Convention this week, we would like for you to stop by and visit with us. We will be setting up our presentation in Booth 751, where we will have information packages for you to pick up. My father, Dr. Etienne Prophete, will be speaking at the main session on Friday at 9:00 a.m., so please make plan to attend and hear him speak.

We love you.

Yves

“Anpil Etwal nan Seel la,” Many Stars in the Skies.

This story is one of many worth sharing from my recent trip to Haiti, the beginning of my partnership with GVCM. If I could share them all the way they should be shared, each would contain God’s fingerprint. But this one is written that you might join me in giving glory to our God, who protects those who trust in His name.

If you know Yves Prophete well, you know he is not easily swayed unless the counsel comes from God, and there were many times on this trip that I came to understand this. On one occasion, I became very anxious about a meeting we were to have at 4:00 in Port- au-Prince, when we were still two hours away in Fedja at 3:30. Yves was attending to important things at the orphanage, but I was being a pragmatic American and it was time to go. Eventually, Yves wrapped things up, and as we traveled back down the mountain towards Port-au-Prince, it was now close to 5:00.

I began asking Yves if there was reception on the cell phone because I was concerned. Yves was probably feeling responsible for my frustration and disappointment, yet he still carried himself with the peace of a man who has trusted God and experienced the understanding of His providence like an adopted son. Yves wanted to make me feel better and checked his voice mail as soon as there was reception, of course to find himself justified in that the man with whom we were supposed to meet had called to say that he could not make it to the meeting that evening.

In triumph and in fun, Yves leaned over, looked me in the eyes and very seriously said…”they don’t call me a prophet for nothing.” We laughed and I was at peace with where I needed to be.

I mention this because on another occasion I was surprised by God’s great care and ability to use Yves’ uncompromising Haitian will to bless me. There were many things we had to do on this trip … so many things. We were always traveling, as Yves was not willing to miss any opportunity. This drive kept us going throughout the day and night.

When I am in Haiti with my wife, there will be things I will do to keep her from harm as best as I can from harm. We will not travel at night if it is avoidable, and if we do find ourselves traversing the mountains of Haiti, our vehicle will have four-wheel drive. On this particular evening, we were traversing the Haitian mountains and were doing it without four-wheel drive. None of this was supposed to be this way, but it was, and Yves was not about to miss an opportunity.

So there we were traveling at 11:30 at night, and it had been hours since we had left the comfort of the church at Thomassique. Deep in the mountains, tired and abused by the road, with a car that was given to us knowingly broken, we had somehow crossed every mountainous obstacle that came our way. But the real obstacle still lied ahead.

We went over a hill, down into a valley and up again, only to find a river in the place where the road should have been. Well, at least in my mind there should have been a road, but to Haitians there is no “should have”. It is plainly what is there, and to the Haitians it made perfect sense that there was no road, as it had been raining for hours, just like every evening for many days. The consequence of that rain was that the road was flooded almost 60 yards across, up and down the mountain as far as I could see.

As we approached this atrocious site, I felt my heart sink into a puddle of doubt, and anxiety planted a little seed in the pit. We stopped at the top of the hill and our jeep was immediately surrounded by villagers and travelers, desperate as only a Haitian could be. These people scanned the faces of the car for any weakness, any kindness, anything at all. They looked inside for food as they made themselves very comfortable, squeezing in our windows.

From the back of the very large crowd I would hear “Blanc, blanc” … something I disliked so much, not because I minded being white, but because I longed to mean more to them than just the color of my skin and the materials my people love. What I wanted was for them to know that I was a Christian and didn’t judge them either; that I loved them because Christ first loved me and because they are His beloved.

I was becoming more and more anxious as we sat waiting, but I didn’t know or care why we were waiting. I wanted out of the situation the moment Yves stopped the car, and I was surrounded by people who had needs - needs they very much expected us to meet. I was fine when the car was moving; I was fine with the black night as long as we were moving closer to our destination and walls that would protect me while I would sleep.

But we were not moving, so I tried with my will to change the situation. The first words I spoke in about 30 minutes were “Yves what are we doing … Yves what are we doing”. Yves replied seriously, respecting my question, that we were going to wait until the water subsided some, since it had stopped raining. Then, trying to make me smile, Yves said “Aaron, why don’t you preach to them.”

I laughed for a short moment, thinking how great it would be to preach, and I was at peace. I even half-smiled, but as soon as that joy and peace had entered, I thought again upon what I perceived, upon what I saw and felt. I even thought of pieces of me being sent back home to my friends like the story of the women in Judges.

I knew this was wrong and I had had enough. I began to pray in the backseat of the Montero. I began to approach the heavenlies and seek the peace of my Father. I was not going to be robbed anymore of what was so costly given to me by Christ on the cross.

After I finished praying, I began speaking to a young man who had been in my window for quite some time. “Kouman ou ye?”, which means “How are you”. He replied “pa pi mal”, or “I’m not bad”. “Kouman ou rele?”, which means “What is your name?”. He replied “Benito”. I continued to ask questions for a few minutes until I had run out of basic Kreyol.

The next question was the important one: “Ou kwe nan Jezi?” (“Do you believe in Jesus?”) He responded “Yes” with a great smile and returned the gesture with a huge grin and praise: “Mesi Dye, “M’ kontan oue ou” (“I am pleased to meet you”.) Feeling at peace and full of joy, I got out of the jeep to see for myself the river that was shaping our evening.

As I walked along the river, I thought of Jesus preaching to the multitude by the water and thought, “Oh, boy … I am not Jesus and this is not the Sea of Galilee”. I sat down on the small hill that led down to the river’s edge. Benito sat beside me, and in a few minutes some of the people who remained sat down around me as well. I wondered how it was that all these people who in the beginning were so threatening had now become so inviting. How it was that the black sky was now full of stars and home to the starry host.

God was moving and I called to Yves to come out of the truck and translate. The Haitians were going to know me because of my God. I shared with them the hope I had for Haiti because of the Gospel, I shared the love I had for them and the struggle that all members of the Church are in and the need for us to fight for one another. I felt called to remind them of the hope of the resurrection, the hope of heaven, and the hope of unity in Christ.

God moved and I was changed. I felt the people were encouraged, and in one soul, if not others, a saving work began because we were there, because the river was there, because we did not have four-wheel drive, because Yves would not turn back.

My friend Benito remained after I thanked them for their faith and their kindness. Also with Benito were three friends of his. They remained with me by the water and I continued to share with them. They helped me learn more Kreyol, words like “siel”, which means “sky” and “etwal”, which means “star”. Eventually, after several hours, the river subsided maybe a foot more or less. I could not tell, but Benito’s friend found a path through the river for us to travel to avoid the deeper parts.

When it was time to try, because there would be only one try, all four young men removed their pants and guided us, one on each corner of the jeep, across the river. I will see those young men again either in Haiti or in heaven. That night many stars were in the sky and each one of them known by God.

While Yves and Yvon shared Christ with the people at the windows, a man accepted Christ. A physical roadblock can be a spiritual highway to Heaven when the Lord is in control. God changed everything in a moment to give glory to Himself. He had a plan, a plan set before time, a plan set in the cross of His son. I was blessed, my faith grown in God, and I found a blanket of peace that night and many more to come that would make me sleep sounder than any walls. His timing is always the best.

Aaron Maus