Last week I went with a group on a missions trip to Haiti. This a short reflection written on the plane on our way back to the United States. 

The lines of the hills
remind me of the lines of 
my grandmother's face.
And that makes me recall how very deep our 
connection to the earth really is.
Time affects the land
and time affects our bodies.
And that is terrifying.
And that is beautiful.

And I see, then, the roads and houses.
Creations of man.
And I think about the garbage lining the streets.
And I think about the trees that were slaughtered
for the sake of "development."
And I wonder what God thinks about that word:
"Development"

Are we developing?
Are our creations--
our roads and our buildings
and our vehicles--
the definition of development?

Something in me is refusing to say
"Yes."

When I look at the land--
at the mountains and trees
and the oceans surrounding them--
my heart hurts.
Why does beauty break our hearts?

I wish I could ask God:
"Why did you create human beings?
And how are we so complex?"
Because when I think about humanity
I am dumbfounded.

How beautiful it is that beings capable of such deep love,
beings able to communicate
and empathize and be full of compassion,
how beautiful it is that such beings exist.

But then I look back at the earth.
And I see the folds in the mountains
And am reminded again
of my grandmother's wrinkles.
And then of all the wrinkles of all the aged.
And I see the roads and the houses
and I realize that this can't be development.
It's destruction.
And in the same way that humankind
has claimed authority over the land--
or rather has abused his authority--
he has also claimed and abused authority over his fellow man.

Her fellow woman.

And I wonder how we got here. 

Not just here on the earth.
But to this moment in time.
To a point where we are 
more concerned about hoarding 
as many objects and as much money as we can
than we are about another person's suffering.

How did we get here?

To a point where we can look at another human being
and somehow see less than that.