Jennifer Keitt, Chief Empowerment Officer





I’m back from Haiti! And my life will never be the same again. I was one of those people who would hear the stories of others who’ve traveled abroad to do mission work and I would sit and applaud their efforts. But if I am honest, I thought it was a nice thing they were doing, but really…life change? I thought maybe there was a “little” exaggeration or embellishment to their stories for…you know…the effect.

I was wrong. Dead wrong.

This is Mardoche. He’s 9 months or so and he lives in the remote village of Fontal with his Mom and Dad. His Dad, Emanes, is a school teacher who made the trek to teach in the city weekly for six months leaving his baby boy and Mom. Emanes worked week after week for 6 months—being promised a meager salary of $50.00 A MONTH.

He was never paid. The school simply decided they wouldn’t pay him. And he went back to his tiny rented “home” with a 9 month baby and his wife with nothing. No money. No means. No way of paying bills, living life, eating, or anything. And Emanes, in the remote village of Fontal is a leader. Everyone comes to him because they have less than he does.

Mardoche’s precious face has haunted me ever since I met him. He has parents who love him and each other dearly, but they just can’t seem to get a break. Life is mean to them.

And now I get it when missionaries say, “my life will never be the same.”

Why this matters to you is because no matter how “bad” your life is or has been, I now know for a true fact, that there are people who have it worse. And that’s important because if we would take a second, right now, wherever you are reading this and glance around I bet you will see things that little Mardoche may never see. Electricity. Running water. Shoes on your feet. I bet you have a little something to snack on, and you’re probably going to eat a good breakfast, lunch or dinner (or all three) today.

I left Haiti visibly moved into action. I don’t plan on putting on my Wonder Woman cuffs and leaping into save Haiti action—but I do plan on beefing up my gratitude and thankfulness. I do plan on making sure that on my watch, Mardoche may have a little something to eat. I do plan on being more intentional now than ever to walk in my purpose. I hope and pray that I will never, ever forget that on an island—the island of Haiti—there are babies like Mardoche—who could benefit from me getting off my butt and walking in my purpose.

And others are waiting for you to walk in your purpose as well.

Maybe you will never go on a mission’s trip overseas, but you will drive to work and see men and women in the next cubicle or in a meeting that outwardly look “ok” but inwardly need you. We are each placed here for a reason.

You are someone’s answer. Please be there for them.