Roll My Stone Away.  Here goes…well, everything. Words I felt I should write awhile ago but feared that writing them would cement their reality into existence. As an eternal optimist, publicizing anything with a semblance of negativity surrounding something or someone I love feels akin to a betrayal. Yet we’ve arrived at this place once again, a time of great pain and suffering. A country and people that welcomed me like family even though I had no expectation, reason or right to that kind of love is hurting. Seven years ago I moved to Haiti and watched my presupposed ideas and sense of self slowly die, but not without a fight. My pride, privilege, and ignorance have put up roadblocks along the way, but when I gave way to listening, learning, and elevating; everything changes. For a resurrection to occur, death is an obligation.  With every passing challenge that has faced Haiti I have leaned more and more on the staff I work with, the friends I’ve accumulated, and the whispers and roars of the community I live in. There are certain tragedies, injustices, and horrors that you frankly become numb to after living here for an extended amount of time. You simply can not allow yourself to process everything you experience. My heart has, at times, hardened to certain aspects of life here, but devastatingly so, my heart has become softer, more fragile to those close to me. I feel physical pain in my heart for my friends and family here when they suffer. My prayers are filled with supplications for comfort and peace to be instilled in their hearts. I selfishly wish I could go back to my blissful ignorance. I fight feelings of not doing enough, doing too much, or simply muddying a situation I have no business being a part of. And time and time again I come to the realization that I am once again fighting a losing battle of dying to my own self and surrendering to the Lord. “I put the world on my shoulders, but I’ll put it back in Your palms again. Father, won’t you roll my...

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