I had a very brief email exchange with a dear friend last night about our desire to rush to Haiti to help. We both speak French, so that would be a plus, as would our experience with West Africans who share so many spiritual traits with their Caribbean cousins. She, though, is a nurse who could go with the ability to heal. What could I bring? All I have is words.
As I’ve thought and prayed about Haiti today, though, I’ve been reminded that Jesus came to fulfill many needs. He came as the Great Physician, true, able to heal maladies both spiritual and physical. But he also come as the Word, the human representation of what God would have told us if we’d had the attention span to listen long enough. He came as the climax to the story God has been penning since before time began.
It comforts me, the fact that words are important enough to God that he give his son the nickname Word. Carpenter, farmer, servant, teacher, friend. Whoever you are and whatever you do, Jesus validates your value by taking on those characteristics.
I can’t go to Haiti this week. I’d probably be in the way if I did. And eat way more than my fair share. But I can pray for Haiti and send a little something perhaps. And I can store up my words on their behalf and hope that someday they will bless the people of Haiti I love so much though I haven’t even met them.