Fields of Hope

Earlier this month, my husband and I traveled together with a mission team to Jamaica to partner with local subsistence farmers by assisting them with the installation of drip irrigation systems to help them increase the yields of their crops...all in the name of Jesus.

On the first day, we met two young girls - I'll call them Layla (age 12) and Jenny (age 9).  From what I understand, they had recently lost their grandmother and lived with their elderly grandfather.  (When the clouds opened up and it began to pour briefly that afternoon, we all took cover in a small tin shed and celebrated God's gift of rain together - it was a holy moment.) The girls stayed with us the whole day that first day - walking from field to field and being very helpful.  By the end of the day, I had no doubt that Layla could have nearly installed a complete system on her own.  It was a blessing to get to know them, and I miss them already!

One of our other fields was owned by a small woman - a single mom I'll call Bethany.  She was the hardest worker I have ever met - and SO STRONG.  This tiny woman carried water up the steep slope in a five-gallon bucket without spilling a drop, she planned on carrying the 50-pound package of dripline up the slope on the top of her head until we insisted we could help, and she cleared the field with expert swipes of her machete all day long.  The thing I remember most about Bethany is how quiet she was as she went about her work.  At the end of the day, she came to me and softly stated a request: "Could the fellows open the top of the tank for me?"  Her small stature prevented her from opening the "stuck-shut" lid, and she was so grateful that the taller guys on our team could get it open.  Once that task was accomplished, she balanced on the foundation of the tank and poured in her first drops of water with a teary-eyed, small smile on her face.  That is a memory I will not soon forget.

Finally, I just have to smile as I remember a lady I'll call Penny.  Penny and her husband had expertly prepared the field before we arrived and were clearly anxious to get started with planting their cabbages.  The little "sucker" plants were laying ready in plastic sacks all across the rocky field as we began to set the first driplines.  In a flurry of smooth machete strokes behind us, Penny planted cabbage so quickly that she soon caught up with us.  She worked and worked and worked all that afternoon in the hot sun...singing with glee as she bent over in the dirt placing those small green shoots into the ground.  By the end of that day, the entire field was filled with new life - ready to drink of the water that was now filling those driplines. It was stunning.

At the end of the week, I wrote a poem in a feeble effort to try to synthesize my experience:

When first at last we stepped

Upon Jamaica's shore,

Our purpose was to bring

Sweet hope and health and more.

But what we soon did find

When on those roads we bumped,

Amidst the sunny scenes,

The rains of joy were dumped.

These people flow with cheer,

We never heard them fuss.

They've painted memories on our hearts

And shared Christ's love with us.

The Jamaican landscape was breathtakingly beautiful, and the Jamaican people we met were joyful and inspiring.  I continue to pray over those fields and farmers each day - knowing that the Lord is at work in that dirt, in their hearts...and in my life and yours.

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!

Philippians 4:4