I can’t seem to get out of bed this morning. I feel sick. My mind is racing. I can’t stop thinking about them.

I remember sitting in an old lawn chair, staring at the shack in front of me. It was a house, but it didn’t look like one.
He smiled, and his hands, sticky from mango juice, touched mine. I noticed a bump on his forehead.
I pictured him tumbling down the hill we’d just trekked to make it here, and my heart broke.
Now I picture him huddled inside one of those houses on that hillside.
I pray that by the grace of God those crooked walls stand firm through the storm.
I pray that he is safe, that little boy whose name I never caught.

They were so innocent.
They inched closer and closer, their bodies dirtied and feet bare.
I remember her shy smile; she was so quiet.
Holding her brother’s hand, she hesitated, cautious of my unfamiliar presence.
Slowly, she came nearer.
She stood by me quietly as I worked.
“Mwen renmen ou,” she whispered.
I love you.
I’d never met a stranger so sweet.
She had nothing but the clothes on her back. So young and so innocent, she allowed her heart to love a stranger.
I pray that she is safe.

They sang “Ten Thousand Reasons” with hands raised. They had ten thousand reasons to thank God, and to me, they had nothing but their faith. By their standards, though, their faith was everything. If they had ten thousand reasons, I have ten billion.
Orphans had ten thousand reasons. Mothers had ten thousand reasons. The young and the old alike had ten thousand reasons. The least of these had ten thousand reasons.

I wonder how many reasons they have right now.

I sit here, safe, warm and dry, assured that at this moment, if in their third world country, my first world heart would find thousands less than ten thousand.

I am confident that they still claim ten thousand.

I cry for them. My heart aches for them. I pray that today, and every day, they have ten thousand reasons. They have lost so much, and I pray that they lose nothing more than they already have.

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge;
His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” –Psalm 91:4

We are not alone in this world. We have brothers and sisters we have never seen. Across oceans and thousands of miles, we are connected.

We sing the same songs in different languages. Together, our voices are all the same, all joined in finding ten thousand reasons.

Haiti deserves hundreds of thousands more reasons to sing with us.

I owe all my reasons to the country that changed my heart, and the God that brought me there.

Join me in lifting up our brothers and sisters across the ocean:

Bondye,

I lift up the masses in Haiti. I pray that Your love
would surround them, that Your voice would calm
the storm they face. May I pray for them with half
the passion they do every day. Give them thousands
more reasons to praise You. Hold the missionaries
that have sacrificed so much in order to serve. Keep
them safe, Lord.

In Your Most Holy Name,

Amén.