“Can I check my e-mail?”

I looked up from the computer I was working on.
Standing in the doorway of Institution Univers’ new
computer room was a Haitian boy in his early teens. He
was also one answer to a statement I had made to Jon
Holley earlier – “I don’t know if we’re doing any good
here.”

My part of the recent 5-day trip to Haiti was to work
with my brother Shannon to bring the technology of the
school up to date (as much aspossible). This included
updating the software on about 80 computers, installing
a campus-wide wireless network, and installing a
wireless network that would bridge the school’s
founder’s house and his new medical clinic. The
conditions could be hard by American standards,
with hot rooms to work in, initially spotty internet
(Shannon managed to fix that), four different models of
computers, a language barrier between us and most of
the people we were dealing with, and more. Things did
not always go well. After several days of making slow
progress, out of frustration I told Jon, “I don’t know
if we’re doing any good here.”

Hugues, the school’s founder, is a remarkable man. He
is always upbeat, quick to laugh, eager to help with
anything you need – and he has a colossal faith. During
one meal we were marveling over the lunch program that
the school offers (in many cases, the only food the
students get all day). Jon laughed when he recalled
that he did not think it could be done when he had
first heard about it, but now it was a reality. I
jokingly said that Jon’s God could not do such a thing,
but that Hugues’ God could. What was said as a joke is
too often the case for me. My vision of God is small –
I believe God can do things, but I don’t believe He
will. My God is too small. These trips make me
reevaluate God – He gets stretched bigger and bigger as
I am forced to see how helpless I am in catching
flights, getting through customs, forcing computers to
work, and so on. Going to Haiti makes me pray much
harder than I normally do, and when I see what Hugues
can do as one man sold out for God, I am left in awe of
what God can do. My frustrated outburst to Jon was
originating from the wrong perspective. WE were not
going to do much, if any, good. GOD was going to handle
that end of things. He started doing good with me and
my faith, and he did it daily. Every day things would
be hard, which required me to (at least occasionally)
remember to pray. The days were slow and frustrating,
but by the evening we always had something to show for
it, and by the end of the trip we had done everything
we had set out to do.

Haiti is a very poor country, with few natural
resources. I am convinced that the best (and maybe
only) option for Haiti to start to fight poverty is
with education. Even with international loans and aid,
Haiti still will need an educated population to
administer those funds and to start to build an
economy. That is why Hugues’ school is so important.
It is why it is important to build a wireless network,
and to update 80 computers. Building skills is Haiti’s
future.

“Can I check my e-mail?”

This is a profound question coming from a boy who
almost assuredly has no electricity and no running
water. He may not have much, if any, food at home. His
family may have no steady work. Contained in this
simple question is hope for the future – the knowledge
and skill required tooperate technology, and the
confidence that the infrastructure will allow him to
check his messages.

By the grace of God, slowly and dimly, we ARE doing
good.

“Can I check my e-mail?”