La Limyè Ministries

Varlesnly was 6 months old when she went into the arms of Jesus. I met her in June. She was a beautiful little girl, bright brown eyes, chubby cheeks, a piece of joy to all. There were some problems though. Her mom was young and uneducated. Everyone in the village begged for me to take the child. Everyone but the mom. For though it seemed like she didnt want her baby, I could see deep down in her eyes that there was a little love, a little hope. Everyday for two months I would go visit the family. The ministry provided formula and we constantly reminded the mom that Varlensly was a child of the King, made in His image, and worth more than gold. Things started looking up. I then took a 4 week long trip to the States to fundraise. When I returned, I received the news. "Varlensly te mouri. Li mouri Ellen, wi li vre." No I said. No no no. I just knew I wasn't understanding. I knew I misinterpreted the words I heard. "Varlensly died. He's dead Ellen. Yes it is true....

" If missionary life is so hard, why do they do it?" Because we once met a man named Jesus. No matter how hard we thought Our lives were, We knew His was harder. But He full heartedly gave His all and served. Served knowing he might not get anything in return. "For God so loved the world that He gave.." John 3:16 He gave his all. His Son. He allowed beatings, torture, insults, persecution, even death to happen. In hopes, with great anticipation, that the sacrifice He made would change hearts throughout the world. In hopes that all His children would run back into His arms. He gave it all and it wasn't fair, but he did it anyway. And we don't owe God a thing. The gift of salvation is free to all those who believe. And after tasting such sweetness. After seeing such goodness come from the Lord. After receiving the free gift of eternal life. There's no other way we would want to live. We as missionaries desperately want homes for the orphans. We eag...

Working in devil's territory is hard. Being a sheep in a pack of wolves is harder. But Jesus said it is worth it. My next door neighbor just turned to voodoo. I live in the middle of two villages, so he is my only neighbor. His house and my house. Side by side in the middle of banana fields. I have bible verses written on my wall, he has black flags on his. I have the beautiful sound of a keyboard, he has drums. I guess God got tired of me complaining about the 4a.m. Wake up call given by the lovely roosters, because now it's a little bell that "calls the spirits." There is no snooze button. For he rings it for hours everyday. He is dedicated. Very dedicated and it has convicted me. Because some days, sadly, I push God to the back burner. Some days "I'm too busy." And when that happens my prayer life sinks, my spiritual growth slows down, and my attitude slips up. For months now I thought I needed a friend. Someone to encourage me, someone to hol...

Beautifully written and well explained by a missionary to Thailand named Karl Dahlfred When a new missionary first gets to the mission field, it is obvious where home is. It is that place where you just left. It is the place where you grew up, went to school, got an education, discovered a church family, and formed your most important relationships. But when you live overseas long enough, a strange transition takes place. Your “home” country doesn’t quite feel like home anymore. When you “go home”, some of the same people and places are there, but life has moved on in your absence. When you show up for the so-called “home assignment” or “furlough,” you can not just pick up where you left off. You are a visitor. An outsider. A guest without a permanent role. Your close friends have made new close friends. Half the people in your home church only know you as a line item on a list of prayer requests. Some new technology, slang, or cultural trend has become common place…...

Rahab A woman with a past to whom God gave a future Joshua 2-5 A prostitute, a harlot bound by the life chosen for her. Everyone in her pagen city knew about her occupation, but none knew about her heart. She'd look out the windows from the gates of Jericho and ponder about the God of Moses. She had heard the stories, heard of the power. Parting the Red Sea, manna from heaven, water from rocks. She thought to herself, what good would stone idols do against a God that controlled wind fire and sea? She lived amongst her people, but did not think like they did. 2 spies were sent to check out the city and fell into the path of Rahab. "Because the Lord knows His people wherever they are, even when they're locked inside a pagan city" From her faith, her heart, her boldness, the walls fell, she was free, and the promised Messiah would come through her family. At times it might seem we are living in the walls of Jericho. Not feeling worthy, no...

Beyond blessed that La Limye's board of directors and leadership team was able to come to Haiti in June. Here is one of the experiences that was felt. To all, Thank you all for traveling to Haiti to visit La Limye Ministries this past week and working to make the children's home a little closer to being finished. I personally feel blessed by everyone on the trip and am so happy about the new bonds of close friendship I feel for each of you. On the bus while passing some houses on a hill side Cathy made the comment that Haiti looks a lot like how she envisions Israel looked at the time of Jesus. Not just the landscape of mountains and ocean but the way the people lived then and now. I believe her perceptions are correct. In the time of Jesus people lived in stone houses, got their daily water from a well or pool and put it in jars they carried on their head. In Jesus' time was no air conditioning or refrigeration, most people had to walk everywhere, there was no...

The days in Haiti that I love. That I'll never forget. The days when 10 people come to church in earnest rather than 100 that come to play. The days when we sing and dance for Jesus and no one thinks we're crazy. The days the girls braid my hair and ask me 50 times if it hurts When I sit next to an open fire in 100 degree weather cooking with Mary. Talking about life and love, orphans and poverty. She teaches me how to cook Haitian food and helps me with my creole Language. The days I sit with malange and think up baby names for her son that's coming in October. When Edverline tells me that Jesus loves everyone and ask why. The hours I hold Smeralda knowing that her small frail body is uncared for by her mom. And all I can do is hold her tight. When the neighbors come to give me gifts of flowers and plants. I love the days when Valerie come over and we play with baby dolls and watch Veggietales. I love house visits. I'll walk through the visit and sit on...