Thin Place

“But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love forever and ever.” (Psalm 52:8)

The house of God, with its "many rooms" (John 14:2), is a greenhouse; in it, we are free to grow regardless of the outside environment.

We were introduced to the idea of “thin places” near our arrival. Places where Heaven and Earth are immeasurably closer together; where the human and the divine cross paths and exchange frank stares rather than polite glances; over which the Spirit carefully hovers and keeps watch. Haiti is such a place.

It is not strange, coming from New York City—the land of sparkling lights, constant noise, and paralyzing distractions—that I had preformed notions of what experiencing such a place might be like. Quiet topped the list, as if God’s voice might sound louder, as if He operated circumstantially, boxed by the physical environment. 

In any case, tumbling through the airport, through the piles of luggage that was the baggage claim, into the cracked and pocketed street and dust-filled and diesel-fumed air registered as incongruous with my expectations. Nothing about the bus ride, rocky over rent streets, with trudging traffic and bleating horns—nothing about passing milling throngs, endless rubble, ominously watery gutters—belied the particular presence of the Comforter. Campus, a fenced-in stretch of mostly barren gravel, nestled in the valley between the two ranges of totally deforested mountains, failed to inspire hope that anything could grow there. 

But rebar pokes up amidst the sparse, spiky shrubs and stunted trees: a vision, led by the Spirit. A glimpse into large, bright eyes in a small, mischievous face left a hint. A week of glorious sunrises and sunsets, made even more varied and beautiful because of that dust, passed and without realizing any great epiphany, it dawned on me that something not only grows, but flourishes unusually there: the fruits of the Spirit.

Future children's home at Nehemiah Vision Ministries