I was in a funk last week.    I don’t mind sharing this with you now, but at the time, I really struggled, mostly with my scheduling and production.

You see despite the fact that I’m not a real big tradition guy, I tend to work best in an environment where I become a creature of habit.  Then I went to Haiti.  The trip was eye-opening, amazing, and when I think back on it, needed.  But for the week before, due to the loss of my wallet and all important information to my life, and normal preparations for a week long trip out of the country, I didn’t get much accomplished.  Then for two full weeks after, I don’t know how else to say it other than I found myself in this funk or cloud or island where there was a time machine and two guys called good and evil vying for my attention (sorry, that last one was a shout out to ‘Lost’ fans).

During those two weeks I got nothing accomplished (like the week before the trip), got kicked out of a basketball game (story coming later), and became addicted to an online video game with a few of my friends.  By the time Sunday, March 14th arrived.  I was so irritated at myself, I couldn’t even believe it – but still, I had not a clue how to lift the funk.

On Tuesday, the 16th, Steve and I attended a funeral in south central Massachusetts.  On the drive home, I received a call from a number I recognized, but couldn’t place it, so I didn’t answer.  After listening to the voicemail, I realized it was Ben Arment, my Dream Year coach.  We scheduled a phone appt. for that day, but I thought it was 2:00 pm, and he called at 1:00 pm.  He was right.  I was wrong.  Not shocking, I guess, considering my funk.

In humility and with a bit of disgust with myself, I called him back and basically apologized.  We chatted for a while and I guess he realized I was kind of out of it, and by the end of the convo, he says, “Well Marty, I don’t know really what to do here, the ball’s in your court.  There’s some things you have to do, and you know what they are…”  He let those words hang out there, and for the first time in about a month, I could see a bit through the clouds.  I don’t even know if he knew how impactful his words were as I sucked them in like icy air making its way through my lungs while playing football on a cold fall day.

“Yeah, I do know what I need to do.”

The last few weeks have been a different story.  I haven’t got kicked out of basketball games, or played online video games, or even sat at my desk and wondered what to do.  But I have spent tons more time with Carie, and quality time with friends and I’ve even been reminded why I love doing what I do and the vision for what we’re trying to do here at Fellowship is once again clear in my head.  This should not be shocking coming from me, but I think what made the funk go away and the clouds lift was the reminder that the people in my life matter, and that by focusing on people, as opposed to just tasks and simply getting stuff done, I’m helping to affect people’s lives. The life groups that we are trying to build here in central Massachusetts aren’t just simply programs of our church, but they are indeed our church.  The community building vision that I am trying to get off the ground (aka fellowship Worcester, The Splat Coffeehouse) is not just something for my ego, but they are essential to my vision of the church being more effective in the context of community and relationships than simply coming once a week to a building and feeding oneself.  So now I have to go, because I have things to get done and people to connect with, but…

I still despise that one ref.

Yesterday I posted a video of destruction during the earthquake in Port Au Prince.  Today is a work of hope I filmed and edited based on the work that was done while we were there.

Haiti Hope from Marty Holman.

In February, I took a trip to Haiti, as I’ve written about previously, and this is what I saw driving through the streets of Port Au Prince.  It is not for the faint of heart, and I hope it opens our eyes to what happened there.  Fellowship Church is raising funds to help the relief effort there, so if you’re interested, you can donate here.

Chevelle + Port Au Prince = an eye opening video.

There’s something amazing about driving through a place in the back of a pick up truck.

No, I haven’t gone redneck on the world, but driving 65 mph  with the wind blowing on your face in 95 degree weather in February helps you to appreciate the beauty of a place more even then being in the passenger seat.  One of the highlights of my 2003 trip to England was the time I spent driving through Oxford on the top of a double decker bus, and while there was not double decker buses on my trip to Haiti, there was a 1986 Toyota Land Rover with 30,000 miles on it that I consistently traveled in the back of which gave me a chance to appreciate the beautiful landscapes of the demoralized nation.

Now I must confess that I’m not a normal fan of the open air.  In fact, I’d rather have air condition or heat (whichever results in 72 degrees during that time of the year) any day, but of course, when it’s 95 degrees out and you’re in the back of a truck, the temperatures are cooler because of the movement.  So I soak it in, with my co-travelers and some new friends and we drive.

We don’t talk much.  We don’t need to, because we all understand what we’re about to experience, and we all see.  We see mountains on one side.  Beautiful rolling hills with the occasional 15′ by 30′ house that probably holds around 15 people and is partially damaged by the earthquake that happened last week.  Then we drive farther and we see more mountains marked and dotted with small rocks.  One of us ask what those rocks are about and a simple, yet honest answer is given:  They are mass graves holding roughly 200,000 people dead because, as far as much of the population is concerned, God is mad at them.

More silence.

On the other side is the ocean, big and blue and incapable of providing the clean water source that so many of them need to survive at a more livable environment.  But it is beautiful and perfect, especially in the back of a truck where  8 of us stand straight up looking across the countryside and trying not to fall onto the bags of stuff we have brought with us.

The thing I take from this is that despite the horrific things I would see this week, beauty shone brightly.  In the people, in the mountains, in my new friends, and in the wind that helped mask the smell of destruction that occurred the week before.

And then I think about the passage in Matthew 4, quoted by Jesus’ own disciple, Matthew from the OT Scrolls of the prophet Isaiah, “And the people who sat in darkness saw a great light.”  Then I thought that no destruction, no catastrophic event, and no disaster, natural or humanly propagated, is bigger than God.  And when all hope seems lost, He finds a way to take care of His children, bring neighbors from different lands together, and give us unique views of His creation from anywhere…

Even the top of an ’86 Toyota land Cruiser.

More than anything on my trip to Haiti, I learned leadership lessons I will never forget.  When the Sister, who for almost 30 years,  has lead the Coty Project we were a part of last week, spoke, people listened.  And the things they are accomplishing there in Haiti amidst the darkness speak volumes of what happens when a life is focused and devoted to God.

My first leadership lesson:  Pick it and stick with it

The airport in Port Au Prince is not exactly JFK, the airport from which we departed.  There were multiple buildings, but a few of them looked more like advanced barns than they did steel structures.  A band did play loudly in one of the hallways however, and that was nice. We went through customs and headed for the madhouse that was the baggage claim.  Actually it was more like a free for all.  Our bags just happened to be as heavy as they would make them as we were hauling medical supplies, so no one would be able to grab them quickly.

The team of 5 I flew in with finally rounded up our gear and made our way to the exit.  Shortly before we found our way to the end of the tunnel though, we were introduced to Sister Eunice, the head of the Haiti Plunge, and one of the best leaders I’ve ever met.

My first lesson was here, in this place when we met.  She told us, “when you go outside, you pick someone to help you with your baggage, and stick with that one person.  You say, ‘You are my person’ and deny everyone else.  Focus, because it’s crazy out there.”  I had no clue what she was talking about until we walked outside where there was a huge red fence at the exit, and hundreds of people wearing red hats, and apparently wanting to help me with my baggage.  I then realized that what works in America would not work here in the Port Au Prince airport, and now was not the time for tactfulness.

I picked a person out of the throngs that vied for my attention, and looking him straight in the eye, I said “You, please take these.”  He did, and we began walking to the truck where our bags would end up.  But another man also helped him with my bag.  The bag did not need two guys carrying it, but as we walked to the truck, I wavered and thought that this man was doing such a nice thing, I should give him some money too.

Sister Eunice disagreed.  In my first experience with tough love for the week (and as you’ll find out there was plenty more), she asked me, “Did you hire this man?” pointing at the man I hired.  “Yes, I did,” I responded.  “Did you hire this man?” She asked again, except this time referring to the other man.  “No, I didn’t, but I can…”

“NO!  You didn’t hire him, and so he needs to learn that.  Do not give him any more money!”

In retrospect, I understand what she was saying, but at the time, I thought it was a bit harsh.  But the overall lesson I learned this week, she had begun to teach me, and would continue to teach me throughout the week:

This is not about a one week excursion to make you feel better Marty, this is about developing people and developing their culture.  So start here.  Pick one, and stick with that one.  This will teach a work ethic and not endorse or create begging.

I think now about all the things that I waiver on, and realize the dangers and roadblocks this creates to the vision God has given me to accomplish here in New England.   When it comes to decisions that need to be made and plans that need to be executed, there is very little room for indecision.  Sure there is a time at the beginning where you craft and plan for what will happen, but then you carry it out and make it happen.

You pick it and stick with it.

I’m reading through the Bible in 90 days right now.  I finished the Pentateuch yesterday.  One interesting verse I ran into a few days ago says, “If the prophet predicts something in the Lord’s name and it does not happen, the Lord did not give the message.  That prophet has spoken on his own and need not be feared.” (Deuteronomy 18:22 – NLT)

So in scripture when things were destroyed, like say the world or Judah or even evil, cannibalistic, homoerotic places like Nineveh or Sodom (My Sunday School teacher had a terrific imagination), typically those things were foretold by a prophet of God or even an angel of God who came beforehand and warned people that they have time to repent before God acts.  Now before you get all bent out of shape that I’m making light of the OT, please know that I believe that these things did happen and that God, though He is love, is also a God of justice.  And I believe there are plenty of times in Scripture when God reacts immediately to people’s individual sin.

But I can’t find a time anywhere in Scripture when a tragedy of epic proportions happened to a group of people, and a prophet of God reacted with “I told you so.”  “You know, I’ve been preaching for years and years about God and who He is, and now this tragedy happened, and I’ll tell you why it is, because of the way you acted. I told you so Sodom!  I told you so  Judah!  Now God got ya!”

No, welcome to the modern world of reactive prophecy.  We don’t actually have to prove that we are speaking for God, we can just talk about stuff after the fact.  Oklahoma Bombings.  September 11th.  Madrid bombings.  Tsunamis.  Hurricanes.  It’s easy for us to speak of why God did it after the fact, isn’t it?  Parents, this makes for an amazing child rearing technique.  You share with little Johnny that he shouldn’t touch the hot stove, and then when he ignores you, bring it up again.  Amidst the pain and bruising on his hand, at the moment when he’s writhing in pain,  feel free to bring a “You should have listened to me.  If you had listened to me, your hand wouldn’t be red and your skin would still be on your hand, and you wouldn’t feel the pain that you do now.”

The truth is, if God wanted you to speak to Haiti, Mr. Robertson, I respectfully ask you to consider the fact that he would have asked you to do it a month or two ago.  Yesterday was too late.  The pain was there.  The lives were lost. The homes were destroyed.  And now we pray that we all learn something about life and love and God.

But we don’t say or even infer, “I told you so.”

Please donate to help Haiti here.