I began applying for jobs in August 2014. I applied at Papillion Police Department sometime that year. I have flown home for each step of their 4 step process. Basic exams, panel interviews, more exams, chief and deputy chief interview, followed by even more exams. I have spent thousands of dollar in plane ticket. Many a hours in prayer and probably an equal amount of hours in worry.
And they called. They offered me the position. A new recruit. I begin October 5th, with the academy beginning October 23rd. I am beyond excited to be part of the Papillion PD family. Everyone there has been beyond great and helpful. I cannot wait to serve this community with everything I have.
But I have to also admit my heart is crushed to leave Haiti. I feel God calling me back to America, but that doesn’t mean he is taking away the pain of the transition.
When you love something this much, it wraps itself around the very arteries in your heart. So taking yourself out of it, is like pulling out vital pieces of your being.
I often hear from people and teams how great it is that I have moved to Haiti. That I am serving here. What a sacrifice it all is. Honesty though, Haiti is not a sacrifice for me. Yes, I have left my family and that sucks. But I love what I do here. I love my teaching staff, I love my children. I love my american community who gets together and cries and prays. I love that I can sit on a rooftop and have a cold coke with soldiers and warriors of God. I love being able to walk over to my neighbors house and one of them will have a word from the Lord for me. I love my school, this passion, the idea of changing a community. I love tucking Youvendjy in to bed every night, and late night talks with the girls. I love living in rustic, without a real mirror, in hand me down clothes that are too big or bleached. I love being here.
Haiti is not a sacrifice for me. I begged God to be here. Moving back to America is me sacrificing for the Lord. I might have air conditioning and tastier meals. But I have begged God not to ask me to go.
He whispers, “You do not have to go, my precious daughter, but I am not done shaping you. I wont force you to go, but I will quietly hold out my hand and ask you to trust me. Follow me when it doesn’t make sense. Believe in me as much as I believe in you.”
And with my head down and tears in my eyes, I hold out my hand and say, “Okay Papa, I do not understand, but I promised I would follow you to the ends of the earth. The end of the earth to me, is America. But if you want me even there, I will go.”
So I am packing my bags. Booking a flight. Crying every couple of minutes. I am savoring these precious moments with my students, Youvendjy and my second family. September 31st I will board a plane and leave behind my heart.
Please be praying that leaving doesn’t tear out all the vital pieces. Pray that I am refined, not crushed. Pushed, but not abandoned. Pray I do not let go of my Papas hand as he leads me to another home.