Going home from Zanglais is always a sad affair. The kids are tired, we are tired, and everyone is bummed to be going back to normal life. The bus is silent.
We were halfway home when traffic completely stopped. For 45 minutes, we waited in the rain, not moving. When the rain let up a little, Scotti and I walked down the road and saw a familiar site: a large truck parked sideways across both lanes of traffic, obstructing the road. In that part of the country, a minority party won the local elections, but current President Preval's party members were named the victors. So the people have been protesting, primarily by blocking main roads. In this case, the driver was there, but the key to the truck had been taken. Scotti and I prayed over the truck and the key.
The UN arrived and began a futile attempt to tow the truck out of the road. Scotti and I decided it was time for God to move things. We went to the bus and started the youth singing worship songs, songs with lyrics like, "My Savior, He can move the mountains," and "How great is our God!" People walked by and stared at the bus full of 40 Haitian teenagers singing English Christian songs. We kept singing.
Within 5 minutes, the key had been located. Within 10 minutes, the truck was moved and we were steaming towards Port-au-Prince.
Needless to say, the atmosphere on the bus changed a little. We'd seen God move swiftly and dramatically in response to our praise; what better assurance that He was coming home to Port-au-Prince with us and that "Greater things are yet to come, greater things are still to be done here!"