Today’s the first of daily morning posts I’ll write during the Haiti pilots. Exactly eight weeks ago, on my birthday, I woke from a late night of worry and resolve, weighing the realities of an expanded Waveplace plan in Haiti. I dwelled on the logistical, financial, and personal risks, running through the whole thing in my mind. On the surface, for hours, my brain was certain that I simply couldn’t do this. Underneath was another truth, unspoken but felt . . . how can I not do what I can? I woke on my birthday, struggled for an hour more, then finally *committed* to this.

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back– Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth that ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.

Eight weeks later, with nearly every waking moment spent on these Haiti pilots, I can now say that I was right to worry on birthday eve. My other clients are frustrated; I’m making zero money; my wife and daughter miss me; I’m personally consumed with details and team dynamics.

Most of all, me and my team are poised atop the the largest of toboggan ramps, lined up front to back on our sled peering down an impossibly steep drop into uncertainty and sorrow. We’re each committed to pushing the toboggan forward and letting gravity take over, but it’s that last push that scares me.

And so I’ll write. For myself, for my family, for the world. Somewhere, someday, a woman readies herself for an impossible task and finds this blog. Somewhere else a small group stumbles forward on its mission, finding some inspiration here. In these posts, I’ll dig deep and get personal, telling the story as fully as I can.

My four-year-old daughter Isabel just walked into my office, excited about a friend she met across the street yesterday. These posts are really for her, to let her know what her dad was thinking through all this, to inspire her for challenges of her own. She just said, “Can I help you?” Here she’ll type:

hgbvgcbvbnvcghvbmcghjbgj vgchghc gfffff gfkjhgcbvnvc bhbfjjjjjjjjjjjj

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *