There were so many moments in Haiti where I felt that THIS was Sacred. THIS was Holy Ground.

Sitting for 6 or 8 hours in a hospital with a child.

After a church service, with people lining up, wanting to be prayed for, and being part of a team earnestly praying for each and every person.

Noticing the new child who is scared and doesn’t know anyone, bringing them into the group, having them sit next to other children, and just giving them a hug when they look totally lost in their new home.
Running to find keys, open depots to find supplies, find drivers, find interpreters, find Miriam, find money, find directions, find the kids who we are bringing, find tools, find teams or missing team members…
Holding naked babies who are covered in scabies (which is contagious), washing them, and applying scabies medication.
Getting the kids with disabilities to join in activities with the other kids, getting them to practice skills, or use the arm that is a bit more difficult to use.
Sitting under the mango tree each morning with coffee and a guitar, watching the compound wake up.
Leading worship for team/prayer meetings.

These were moments that I KNEW I was standing (or sitting… or running…) on Sacred Ground, on Holy Ground. These are moments that would bring me to tears, my heart overflowing with compassion, and thanksgiving, and absolute love for the people I was working with. These are moments my shoes came off.

The problem is, I come home and it is hard to feel like this every day, boring life with people who are doing fine, is still Sacred, Holy Ground. I am back to a job that is mostly boring. I am back to sitting at a desk (or kiosk) every day. With people who have at the very  LEAST enough to get by comfortably.

I am annoyed when people want me to go out of my way to help them. I am annoyed when things don’t go how I want them to. I am annoyed by people talking, talking, talking.

This IS Sacred.
This IS Holy Ground.
The Sacred is in community. The Sacred is in the faith of the people. The Sacred is in the spirit of the people. I think that the Sacred is everywhere; we just don’t notice it when we are living the “easy life”. It is easy to be self-sufficient, to be independent, to be isolated when we live in a place of plenty. We don’t search for the sacred, because we feel we don’t need the sacred, we feel we don’t have time to stop and look for the sacred. When have nothing, when we have to fight every day just to survive, we begin to acknowledge our need of community. We begin to realize that we need each other; we cannot remain independent and isolated.

When we have nothing, we cannot deny the sacred surrounding and intertwining through everything.

I know that each person will have a different idea of what the word Sacred means, a different idea of where we can find it, or IF we can find it. Even within a faith community, people interpret and believe different things.

When I am in Haiti, it is much easier for me to find the sacred in everything – in waiting at the hospital with a child, in helping groups get ready for a trip out of the compound, in talking to a child about their misbehaving.
In Canada, I have to actively search for the sacred, to stand still in the busy life, and breathe, and breathe, and look the Sacred in the eye.