A note from David Staal, who turned this writing space over to his son: “Many churches send teams on mission trips during the summer months, including youth groups. Reports from these ventures often focus on the work performed and the difference made in the lives of those people the team served. But what about the impact on the hearts of those who did the serving? Back home, parents passionately pray that God will tug on the heart of their child during the trip. I speak firsthand about those prayers; my son recently returned from his first mission journey (my wife was on the same trip). After you read the column he wrote for his high school newspaper, spend another moment imagining what would happen if more youth experienced a similar adventure of the heart. Go ahead, forward this column to your church’s youth pastor.”
We live in a world that revolves around our “stuff.” We are constantly surrounded by an abundance of belongings. But too often, one item is missing: appreciation. Sometimes, everything must be taken away to be truly thankful for anything. Where would something like that happen? Take a look at Carrefour, Haiti. I saw it firsthand.
Walking down a typical Haitian street, destruction appears on every block for miles. Concrete buildings lie in heaps of rubble, trash litters the rivers and hundreds of blue and gray U.S. AID tarps line the sidewalks. Everyday, people sit outside their homes trying to sell fruits they scavenged, sandals they salvaged, or anything that they can find—to anyone they can find. All of this is the new reality of life after the devastating 7.0 magnitude earthquake that struck Haiti on January 12, 2010.
I walked those streets while on a mission trip with a team from my church a few weeks ago. While there, we broke cement walls apart and removed countless tons of rubble that used to be homes, so that families could rebuild one day. I met and moved rocks with many Haitians and observed the ruins they live in. Despite the destruction, one thing stands clear: Haitians are thankful a lot—even though they have little.
During the week our team was in Haiti, we lived in a half-school, half-church building. Every morning, kids in grades kindergarten through eighth came in and played before they started their day. Our team got to kick soccer balls and blow bubbles before they started class, as every single kid grins. For them, learning is a privilege—and they are thankful for it.
Then I met Stanley—a 17-year-old guy just like me. Yet, his life is nothing like mine. Stanley doesn’t have a mom or dad so he was forced to live with his aunt. I learned that she died in the earthquake; Stanley now lives at an orphanage. Plans were set up by an American family to adopt him, but the adoption fell through. He literally has no one in his life—no family, no friends. Yet, he wears a smile on his face and is grateful for what he has—life.
A crisis exists in Haiti. Major cleanup and rebuilding needs to take place, jobs must be created and money needs to circulate to the Haitian people. Problems will keep mounting unless something amazing happens.
But there is a crisis here as well. Sure, there hasn’t been an earthquake, a cholera epidemic or political violence. Instead, the crisis is found deep in our hearts. I notice that we are thankful only a little, even though we have a lot. I notice that in myself, too.
Here, students complain and argue with teachers as we sit inside our air-conditioned school. In Haiti, songs, clapping, and laughter are the sounds made by students at their wooden desks. … It’s easy for us to whine about our cafeteria food. They have scarce electricity, no air circulation, or lunches.
I suspect that our crisis—overflowing ungratefulness—will also continue unless something amazing happens.
The place to start is to notice all the “stuff” that surrounds us. Appreciation is a choice anyone can make. And everyone should, myself included. Let’s decide to be thankful for all that we have—because it could all be gone one day.
And think about giving some of it away to the Haitians.
Scott’s father, David, is senior editor of the children’s ministry area for BuildingChurchLeaders.com and president of Kids Hope USA, a national non-profit organization that partners local churches with elementary schools to provide mentors for at-risk students. Prior to this assignment, David led Promiseland, the children’s ministry at Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Illinois. David is the author of Words Kids Need to Hear (2008) and lives in Grand Haven, Michigan, with his wife Becky, son Scott, and daughter Erin. Interested in David speaking at your event? Click here.
This article is adapted from a column that first appeared in the June 2, 2011, edition of Grand Haven High School’s newspaper, Bucs Blade.
©2011, Scott Staal
