I knew I was going to the village of Cerrros de Mogollon Thursday night.
I knew I had to drive my moto so I would get home before dark.
I knew we were going to have a house church meeting.
I knew there would be worship and preaching.
I didn't know how.
I knew an older lady when we got there.
I knew the girls who came with Pastors Rigo and Manuel.
I knew others the Pastors introduced me to.
I didn't know we would all meet two Haitian men.
I didn't know Rigo had brought a Bible in Creole for them.
I didn't know they would read it right away.
I didn't know they would ask to pay for it.
I knew it was a gift.
I didn't know they lived so close with about 12 other Haitians in a one-room house.
I didn't know many were Christians.
I didn't know Creole.
I knew God was there.
I didn't know one of the men would immediately begin reading the Bible aloud.
I didn't know he thought he couldn't come to the church service because he didn't have shoes.
I didn't know Manuel would offer his.
I knew he meant it.
I didn't know the Pastors would lead almost the whole group over to our church service.
I didn't know they would meet a natural leader among them.
I didn't know they would immediately pour into his life using Scripture.
I knew I was impressed by them.
I didn't know the Pastors would ask this man to pray in Creole.
I didn't know he would accept.
I didn't know they would then ask him to sing a worship song in Creole.
I knew then that I've never heard anything so beautiful or have felt the presence of God so sweet.
I didn't know I would then be asked to preach.
I didn't know that I read Hebrews 2:8-11 when I wanted to read Hebrews 2:12 to the end.
I didn't know what I was saying.
I knew God and everyone else did.
I didn't know I would then get on my moto and quickly lose control.
I didn't know there would be blood this time.
I didn't know Manuel would be there so quick and say, "Ay, my hija." , Aww, my daughter!
I knew comfort in that moment.
I didn't know the Pastors would leave me to return the girls to their village.
I didn't know anyone in Cerros that well.
I didn't know the language that was being spoken all around me by the Haitians who cared for me.
I knew Peace that passes understanding.
I didn't know the whole village would show up with paper and water for my wounds.
I didn't know people cared that much.
I didn't know Miguel would pick me up and take me home to his wife who is a nurse.
I didn't know that would be the last ride on my moto.
I knew it had to be.
I know God is moving in the hearts of the Haitians in Cerros de Mogollon.
I know prayers are being answered.
I know I was protected from further injury that night.
I don't know what adventures will be next!
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