A Love that Endures

1 Corinthians 13:1-13

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. ² And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. ³ If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned,^[a] but have not love, I gain nothing.

⁴ Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant ⁵ or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;^[b] 6 it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

⁸ Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. ⁹ For we know in part and we prophesy in part, ¹⁰ but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. ¹¹ When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. ¹² For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

¹³ So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

I have often heard couples with long lasting marriages talk about “the end of the honeymoon phase” in their relationships. The time when their relationship with their partner shifted from being based on how they were “feeling” love to a foundation based on an intentional and mutual choice to love one another no matter what. When I was younger, I was dismissive of this concept to say the least. In my very naive mind, this took the “magic” out of any relationship. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve started to gain a new perspective on this concept. I can now see how incredibly beautiful, intimate, and God-honoring this idea of love-as-a-choice can be. You choose to love your friend, significant other, or family member on their bad days. You choose to love them in their imperfections. You choose to love them, even when it’s difficult. Your love is no longer fleeting and conditional; your love is enduring… Just as Christ’s love endures our sin, shame, and ugly days.

Many of you reading this have likely either wondered, or even asked me, about my experience staying in Haiti after COVID-19 hit. I haven’t been updating social media or my blog very regularly lately. And for those of you who have asked me directly how things are going, I’ve likely been very vague in my responses. The truth is, I have really struggled with sharing about my experiences over these last four months. This has been one of the most difficult seasons of my life. I’m watching the country and people that I feel called to serve crumble in front of my eyes. My heart is heavy and tired for my co-workers, who then became friends, who now are my family. My personal struggles are just piling on top of the anger and pain I feel for my friends.

I’ve watched the Haitian currency fall in value literally on a daily basis, causing the cost of living to rise uncontrollably. Prices go up, while income stays the same, or worse, decreases. I have not gotten through this reality unscathed…. It is much worse for my Haitian friends.

I’ve watched the community I serve fall into an unprecedented season of violence and suffering. Commuting to and from work most days is difficult, and at times, scary. I’m angered by the selfishness and true evil I see in these acts of violence, and my heart is broken for the aftermath of desperation they leave behind. This community has been progressing and growing steadily for some time… To see such a dramatic backslide is jarring. I still don’t quite know how to process it.

I’ve experienced acts of betrayal done out of desperation and fear.

I’ve been called selfish at the end of the day, when I’ve given all I had… of my time, energy, and finances. These words were spoken from a place of pain and suffering, at the end of a day or week of asking for help again and again and again, always to be met with no. It was painful to be called selfish; it was even more painful knowing the people asking truly needed someone to intervene for them.

I’ve also gained a better understanding of the frustration impoverished people experience at some of the words spoken by people in a place of privilege. I’ve grown tired of the romanticized and idealized version of what it’s like to live here, of people telling me how “jealous” they are of my time here; I can only imagine how it feels for Haitians.

At the end of the day, my experience over the last four months has been difficult. It hasn’t been an absolutely beautiful, joyful, or endearing season. I think I owe it to my Haitian friends to be honest about that. Life in Haiti right now is extremely difficult, and the vast majority of the people here are struggling. Life here right now does not look like what many see on a one week trip.

The difficulty I’ve had in communicating this well is that I do still love Haiti. I still love the community I serve. There is a depth and authenticity to my friendships here that I don’t think would have ever formed had I not stayed through this season. I’d venture to say the love and calling I have for this place and these people has been strengthened. My love doesn’t look the same as it did in March… Praise God for that.

I have been praying about the best way to talk about this season in my life since May. I didn’t know how to explain what is happening in Haiti to friends who haven’t lived here. I also really struggled to talk about my own emotions and perspective throughout this season. Finally, the Lord brought me to the infamous chapter in 1 Corinthians.

The truth is, my love for this community has shifted from a “feeling” to an intentional choice. Life here on a daily basis isn’t fun, easy, or simple… but I still have a calling to answer. At the end of the day, I still want to choose obedience. My view of my calling isn’t romanticized anymore; it can’t be. The Lord is refining the love I have for this place into a love that endures the darkness.

I’m committed to the calling the Lord has placed on my life, even when it doesn’t look pretty. I am choosing to love this community; my love can’t rely on how I feel or how my day went. My love can’t rely on whether or not I was able to complete my checklist, how instragrammable my day was, or how easy my commute was. My love can’t be dependent on my comfort, and truthfully, it can’t always depend on my personal safety. My love for Haiti can’t be selfish. It must be one that endures all things.

For those of us who serve in Haiti, be it long term or short term, God is inviting us to take off the rose-colored glasses, and still choose to love His people. He is inviting us to love this place, even if it doesn’t “feel” rewarding, even when all we can see is the immense struggle and darkness in front us. He’s inviting us to love this place, even when we don’t see immediate results… Even when the end result wasn’t we personally envisioned.

This pandemic has forced us all to pause and re-evaluate; I am thankful for that. If we allow it, I firmly believe that God will change our perspective on the communities we serve in such a way that we become better servants.

The broken and hurting need the love and light of Jesus. They need selfless and enduring love.

I am not the same missionary I was in March, and I am praising His name for that reason. I’m a better servant because of it. My prayer is that He continues to refine me and change me.

Father, help us see truth, and help us speak it well. Give us your eyes. Give us your heart for broken places and people. Give us a selfless love. Give us a love that endures all things.