If Advent and Christmas have a more natural tendency to aim us toward joy, Lent and Holy week aim our gaze at sorrow. During all the liturgies of Lent, both mass readings and the liturgy of the hours, we widen our gaze to grasp the sufferings throughout history, and the present sufferings throughout the world, and can’t help but wonder if Resurrection is possible, and what it could really mean.

The goals of our celebrations were to pray for the peaceful repose of those who had died, thank God for all help received from the surviving Haitian people and people of good will around the world, and pray for a better future for Haiti and the world.

During those precious days, on January 12 we watched with disbelief and with horror the news of the earthquake on television. I was shaken by the tragedy in Haiti, and torn as to what to do because to return to Haiti would be to sacrifice the chance to be with my mother, to help her, hold her, hear her last works and advice, for this very last time on earth.

In the darkness and quiet of night, God shapes the life of a new day, and God’s instruments are dreams, inspirations, intuitions, deep rest, silent growth as we sleep.

With difficulty I was able to get a catheter into each arm, while Amaral, Fr. Enzo, Wisely, and Murat took turns squeezing the IV bags in order to make the fastest entry of the fluid into this man, who was minutes away from shock and death.

The name Chikungunya means "to become contorted" or “to bend up” because the pain caused by the virus is so intense that all you can do is hold your aching joints and wait for it to be over. Haitians have adopted the name kraze le zo or "breaking bone" in Creole.