As the sun retreats behind a smoky horizon, the generator roars in the background as a constant reminder that we are not in Kansas/Kona anymore. Like a thick morning fog, tension hangs in the air brought on by the news that we will be spending yet another restless night stuck in the tent city with out showers. The worn out 14 sit outside swatting mosquitoes, struggling to maintain their pasted on smiles as the pastor and his crew put the finishing touches on the fence that will eventually protect the new church we have been setting up for the past two days. Some of us are crowded around one of the last remaining clean sheets of paper trying to plan sleeping arrangements for 14 people in an 8-man tent when a new commotion stirs everyone to attention.


Our contact, Pastor George, has been diligently meeting our every need while also faithfully taking care of his beautiful wife, Shelly, who is now frantically pacing back and forth with a strange look in her eye. Her hands press firmly into the small of her own back while she stifles the panic that slowly approaches with each deep breath. One foot stumbles in front of the next as the pain is almost too much to bare. Realizing what is going on, the girls spring into action, taking Shelly by the arms and helping her to a make shift bed that just happened to be ready. As the women scramble to make sure everything is clean , the guys are taping bare wires together to the rest of the scene does not have t continue in the shadows.

Trembling hands scrub and lay out what few supplies we have available. The clean metal of a Swiss Army Knife catches the light, joined with the smell of minty fresh dental floss and a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer. These are the tools that will be used to welcome new life into the world at the Tent City in Port Au Prince, Haiti. Some would later say this scene could have involved a king, just over Two Thousand years ago!