Friday, January 22, 2010


We were entering our gate area in Santo Domingo to come home last Saturday. Brock saw a lady whom was all stitched up and cut up and beat up. He could tell that she was from Haiti and had been in the quake. He sat right by her. He asked if she wanted something to drink, but she showed him her half full Dasani and shook her head. A few minutes later, he asked if he could get her anything and she replied that no she just wanted to sleep. Then, he asked if she wanted to use my bag to put her head on and she replied no.

Brock was being so persistent that I figured the Lord was guiding him. He was. Brock was praying that she would open up to us. An hour later, the lady asked Brock if she could use her phone. Calls made in the Dominican Republic are probably rather expensive, but he did not care. She tried to call a few people in Haiti but could not get through. Then, she told us what happened to her.

Her name was Stephanie and she was in Port-Au-Prince visiting family and friends. When the earthquake took place, she was running and fell on something. She had been all cut up and bruised up. She said that her head wound that went from the top of the right side of her forehead down to almost her nose was all open. When she went to some of the doctors on sight, they told her that she was not hurt enough. So, she had a gaping wound in her head for four days. (Realize that I am not blaming the doctors. I'm just explaining the gravity of the situation.)

She had been living in Miami and had a U.S. passport, so that is how she was able to get out. She went to the Embassy, and they had flown her to Santo Domingo the day before where she was finally able to receive hospital care. She had also been able to eat there.

After we put her on the plane, we told her that we would wait for her in Miami. We did, and Brock carried her bag for her through customs. She kept placing a towel over her head so that nobody could see her stitched face. She also walked very slowly with a limp. Brock carefully and tenderly took care of her. It was out of Brock's character to be such a caretaker (that's usually my job). Also, he never walks slowly. I felt as if Jesus were right there with us at the time exuding Himself in Brock.

Before we parted ways, Stephanie used our phone to call her brother. She wrote down where to meet him. The brother called right back just to thank Brock for taking care of her. My heart just went out to this lady. She was obviously out of it from loss of blood and leftover drugs from the hospital. Yet, here she was all by herself trying to figure out where or what to do. I don't know what she would have done if she had not used Brock's phone to call her brother.

Stephanie was smiling at the end. She was so sweet and gentle. She got our information and gave us each a hug before she left. I hope that she gets in touch with us, but even if she doesn't, I will always remember and pray for Stephanie.