Miracle on Voodoo Mountain Read online

  Praise for Miracle on Voodoo Mountain

  “I was privileged to volunteer at Respire and witness Megan’s ministry. We support Respire, as Megan pours out her love and energy on the Haitian people, and encourage you to read this book.”

  —LAURA CASSIDY, MD AND CONGRESSMAN BILL CASSIDY

  “Miracle on Voodoo Mountain is nothing short of amazing! Megan Boudreaux has done a great job of revealing not only her heart but also the work God is doing in Haiti. Be inspired to lend your support, still so desperately needed in Haiti, as you read about God’s faithfulness and what He is doing at Respire.”

  —ADAM HAYWARD, NFL LINEBACKER, WASHINGTON REDSKINS

  “I met Megan in Haiti the day after I met my little girl, Missy. And in retrospect our introduction was all part of God’s sovereign plan—hearing her story and seeing her kids helped galvanize my resolve to hang in there through two years of adoption hurdles and finally bring my daughter home. Megan is beyond inspirational—she’s more like a gasoline torch placed next to a pile of good intentions! She will ignite your heart to a bigger, riskier kind of love.”

  —LISA HARPER, AUTHOR, BIBLE TEACHER, AND WOMEN OF FAITH® SPEAKER

  “Megan Boudreaux is a young lady who exemplifies Christ-likeness. In obedience to God’s calling, she sacrificially put her life on hold and trusted God to use her to make a dramatic difference in the material and spiritual lives of hundreds of impoverished and enslaved Haitian children. Miracle on Voodoo Mountain is the inspiring and uplifting story of Megan’s Spirit-driven calling and her bold action in response to that call.”

  —DAVID LIMBAUGH, AUTHOR, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER JESUS ON TRIAL

  “Without fearing the unknown, Megan obeyed the vision she received and was led to some of the world’s most vulnerable children. This is a great story of not only God’s provision but also courage when confronted by spiritual and political opposition. It is a testimony to the power of God and the significance of one person who will step out and respond with a yes to God’s call. As Megan continues to respond to the needs that surround her, her story also shows us that lasting impact and change are the results of many people trusting Jesus, working together, praying, listening, loving, and partnering with the people they serve.”

  —JIM BEISE, FOUNDER, LA FONDERIE, PARIS, FRANCE; AND MISSION PASTOR, LA CROIX CHURCH

  © 2015 Megan Boudreaux

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by W Publishing Group, an imprint of Thomas Nelson.

  Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

  Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. ©1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.

  Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from Holy Bible, New Living Translation. © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.

  Scripture quotation marked ESV are taken from the English Standard Version. © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a division of Good News Publishers.

  ISBN 978-0-529-11095-4 (eBook)

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Boudreaux, Megan.

  Miracle on Voodoo Mountain : a young woman’s remarkable story of pushing back the darkness for the children of Haiti / Megan Boudreaux.

  pages cm

  Includes bibliographical references.

  ISBN 978-0-529-11094-7 (hardcover)

  1. Church work with children—Haiti—Gressier. 2. Missions—Haiti—Gressier. 3. Boudreaux, Megan. 4. Christianity and other religions—Vodou. 5. Vodou—Relations—Christianity. I. Title.

  BV2616.B68 2015

  266’.0237307294—dc23

  2014024082

  15 16 17 18 19 RRD 5 4 3 2 1

  To my precious daughter, who started this all, Michaëlle, and to the rest of my beautiful children, Jessica, Johanne, and Saintil, who are all parts of this incredible story

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue: The Dream Tree

  1. Okay, God, I’m Here

  2. Throwing Rocks at Birds

  3. Prom Queen Meets Roaches

  4. Rice, Beans, and Salami

  5. A Restavek

  6. The Orphanage

  7. Respire: Breathe

  8. The Boy in the Pink Shirt

  9. A Dream Born Under the Tree

  10. Two Thousand Dollars

  11. They Don’t Want Me

  12. The Sting

  13. The Start of Everything

  14. Deux Enfants

  15. Be Bold

  16. A Warning from the First Lady

  17. School’s In!

  18. The Binder from Hell

  19. Demons in the Trees

  20. Josh Has Something to Say

  21. The House of the Devil

  22. The Woman at the Gate

  23. Freedom House

  24. Theodore’s Dream

  Epilogue: A Day in the Life

  Notes

  About the Author

  Photos

  Acknowledgments

  I would love to express my gratefulness to the many people who have molded and shaped me into the young woman I am today, and who have also walked alongside me at different moments through this adventure here in Gressier.

  First and foremost to Josh, my best friend, my encourager, my husband. I am blessed by your unending support, optimistic attitude, and willingness to watch the children during the long days of writing and editing. I could not have finished this without you. To Susy Flory, for taking the time to come to Gressier and see what God has done and for guiding me in this process. Thank you for believing in my story and in what God is doing on Bellevue Mountain. Debbie Wickwire and Lisa Harper, thank you for pursuing me, believing in me, and encouraging me to tell this story.

  To Kate Hays, Mr. John, and Mrs. Diane Crews, thank you for bringing me on my first mission trip ever. My life was beginning to change with that, and I didn’t even know it.

  Thank you, Norris and Melissa. Without your support, encouragement, advice, and love, my family would not be as sane and Respire Haiti would definitely not be the same. Steve and Renee, thanks for giving us the best wedding and honeymoon advice. We love you guys dearly. Chris Hearp, thanks for listening to Melissa and coming to visit me when I showed you a piece of land that was just a big dream. To all at Haiti Serve, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for believing in the dream of a young, naïve girl.

  Mr. John Paul Funes, as I teetered on the edge, you gave me just the right amount of push to let me go. Thank you for your belief in what God was starting. Sister Martha Ann Abshire, thank you so much for bringing me to Haiti for the first time and sharing your wisdom and experience with me.

  Curt and Nancy Richardson, thank you for letting God use you both to catapult this amazing journey. You’ll never really know how much you built. Harold Hanusch, “Tex,” thank you for giving me my first iced coffee in Haiti ever. I am blessed by your support.

  Gwen, Suzanne, Michelle, Jan, and the whole 147 Million Orphans team, you guys are inspiring. Thank you for bringing me Diet Coke, lots of laughs, and encouragement.

  Amelia, Raffi, and Ritha Belizaire, thank you for sitting in the dark with me fo
r hours. I’m in awe of your love for the Haitian people, and I am constantly encouraged by your family. Caroline Sada, you are an incredibly brave and wise woman; thanks for being such an encouragement and fighting for the Haitian people. The McKeehans and the Lecroys, thank you for being amazing advocates of freedom. It is a blessing to walk alongside you during this fight. Adam Hayward, thanks for visiting Gressier and believing in my vision. Thanks for playing in the NFL but remembering what God has ultimately called you to.

  Bret Pinson, who would have known that the journey would look like this? Thank you for being a mentor, organizer, and believer in God’s plan here in Gressier. Kathryn Davis, you are a rock star. I will never forget our many adventures and your worship, prayers, and encouragement. The hard days with Gabriel were made better by you. I love you! Jessi White Morris, thank you for giving so much of your life to come on this journey with me here in Gressier. Kyle Fishburn, thank you for believing in my dream enough to drop your life in California and come live in Haiti. For not giving up when things didn’t always work out right and for never complaining about eating Haitian food every day. God has special plans for your life.

  Our Haitian staff—Tachi, Darlene, Nedgi, Jackie, FiFi Wilbur, Mr. Colin, Mr. Gracia, Dieumaitre, Arnold, Patrick, Belo, Wadley, and so many more—Respire Haiti would not exist if it weren’t for your incredible heart for the Lord and for Gressier. And thank you to our American staff (past and present), Sharon, Stephanie, Adam, Kameryn, Amber, Hannah, Samantha, Amanda, Jessi, Kat, and many more. I know there is no place you guys would rather be, and there’s no place that I would rather you be too!

  Bernard, where would I be without you? Thank you for being the fearless leader and translator that you are. God brought you to Gressier and to me for that reason. Rita and Dan Noel, thank you for going against the grain and bringing your life, skills, and joy to Gressier. Rita, you know how much I have appreciated your wisdom and encouragement.

  Dad, I know you are looking down from heaven and smiling with joy at the freedom that is on Bellevue Mountain. To T-tone, thank you for walking me down the aisle, even if that meant coming all the way to Haiti to do it. I love you more than words.

  Lindsey, my sister, no matter the miles, no matter the time apart, you will always be the most incredible big sister. I love you. Zack, thank you for only being a phone call away and for telling me to always wear gloves.

  And to the rest of my family, Aunt Chris, Uncle Butch, Nanny, Uncle Doug, Aunt Michelle, Uncle Jerry, Aunt Kathy, Aunt Tina, Kellie, Amy (and our car Amy-Lou), Caleb, Stacey, Terry, Joey, Brittany, Laura, Jack, Molly—and of course the one who is responsible for all of us being on this earth, MawMaw. I know you are looking down from heaven and laughing at my stubbornness. I’m glad it’s genetic.

  And last but definitely not least, thank you, Mom. What can I say? You have believed in me my whole life, and you loved me enough to let me go so I could spread my wings and be a mom to so many others. You’ve given the greatest gift of all, sharing me with Gressier and these children.

  PROLOGUE

  The Dream Tree

  And all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

  —Isaiah 55:12 ESV

  It was like a recurring nightmare, but I wasn’t exactly scared. It was more like a shot of adrenaline when I saw the leafy green tree, and I’d wake in a bit of a panic, wondering why I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I always woke up immediately after I saw the tree in my dream, my eyes open and heart thumping. I’d only seen it once, on the top of a mountain in Haiti more than a thousand miles away from my apartment in Louisiana.

  I worked in marketing for a hospital in Louisiana called Our Lady of the Lake, and I had been sent on a business trip to a medical clinic in Haiti in August 2010, just months after the massive earthquake that left the capital of Port-au-Prince and other surrounding cities in ruins. This was my second trip to Haiti, and I was overwhelmed by the devastation and despair.

  On the last day of my trip, a few new friends and I fled the chaos of the capital and headed west to the gorgeous mountains of Gressier (pronounced gray-see-ay). The fresh air and warm sunshine beckoned, and we walked through the village and climbed up a rocky trail onto Bellevue Mountain. After making our way through some thick green bushes, we came out on top in a field of lush green grass.

  With my 360-degree view, I felt tiny under the overarching dome of the summer sky. In front of me was the bright blue of the Caribbean. I turned around, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the feel of the breeze blowing through my hair and cooling the back of my neck. Behind me were mountains covered in thick green vegetation, like something out of Jurassic Park. My eyes followed valleys that disappeared into shadows, reddish-brown paths that cut through the jungle, and wisps of smoke curling up here and there.

  Then details started to come into focus, and I saw tents peeking up everywhere in the distance. Some were earthquake relief tents, pale gray and marked USAID. Others were hastily made of colored tarps. I started to pick out people moving around, walking along paths or working in their yards. Down in the valley I saw some children carrying heavy jugs of water on their heads. I watched as they walked what seemed like miles.

  We grew hot out in the sun and headed toward the only bit of shade on the mountain—a lone tamarind tree next to the path. The grayish-brown trunk looked thin and frail but somehow became bigger and more substantial when we got close. The canopy was thick and heavy and bright green with feathery leaves. From a distance it looked like a giant fern plopped on top of a big stick. We took refuge underneath as I thought about all of the people I’d seen. Most were hungry, many were sick, and everyone was still traumatized by the earthquake.

  Remembering the hungry-looking children I had seen hauling water, I thought, Someone needs to come here.

  Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that someone would be me. But as soon as I got back home to Louisiana, the dreams started. They weren’t about the women I’d seen or the raggedy children or the dusty tents—just the tree. I longed to see it again and felt as though it was calling me back to Haiti, as if my spirit was being lured.

  After a couple of months of these dreams, I decided to tell my boss, John Paul Funes, what was going on. I’d only been working at the hospital for ten months at the time, and I thought it was my perfect job. I loved my coworkers and my boss, and I enjoyed my work helping plan special events. So I knocked on his door, anxious and hesitant, and I heard his jovial, “Come on in!” I perched on the edge of a chair and began rambling about Haiti, trying to explain the people and the children and my dreams of the tree.

  John Paul looked up in the middle of my rambling, smiled a calm, relaxed smile, and said, “If you think God is calling you to Haiti, you absolutely need to go.”

  That wasn’t what I expected to hear. What kind of person would encourage a twenty-four-year-old city girl who loved to go shopping and wear cute outfits to just pick up and move to a hot, poverty-stricken country like Haiti? But he did. “Go ahead and try it,” he added. “If it doesn’t work out, there will always be a place for you here.”

  So I went.

  It’s been three years now, and so much has changed. When I showed a picture of the cover of this book to my ten-year-old, Haitian-born daughter, she immediately recognized the tree and the silhouettes of mother and daughter.

  “I’m in your story?” she asked, eyes wide with wonder and delight.

  I looked at her with tears in my eyes. Sweet girl, you are the story. But I didn’t say it out loud to her. Not yet.

  This is our story, how we met underneath the tamarind tree and how she changed my life forever.

  ONE

  Okay, God, I ’m Here

  Courage is fear holding on a minute longer.

  —George Patton

  Exhausted and as clean as I could get with a bucket of cold water, I untangled my mosquito net, draped it over the bed, tucked the ends underneath the mattress, and crawled in. It was pitch-black, but I look
ed up anyway toward the mosquitoes buzzing around. Slowly, the frenzied whine of their tiny wings was drowned out by a different sound.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  I listened.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  Voodoo drums.1 My ears vibrated with the sound as my heart began to beat inside my chest to the rhythm. I wrestled the mosquito net away and got up to lock my bedroom door. Then I reached for my Bible and my little flashlight. I began praying over my bed, actually praying over everything, trying to calm my beating heart as my first day as a resident of Gressier, Haiti, came to an end.

  When I’d stepped off the plane in Port-au-Prince that morning—January 9, 2011—the only information I had was the name of my driver, along with a small piece of paper with my new address scribbled on it. The driver was a polite local man who led me to a beat-up Nissan Patrol. I watched anxiously as he threw my bags in the bed of the truck, covered them with a tarp, and tied everything down tightly with ropes. I felt as though I could barely breathe. What am I doing here? kept running through my mind like an endless repeating chorus.

  I had no idea how long it would take to get to my new home in Gressier, just twenty miles from the airport. As we drove, I saw clusters of tents, piles of trash, and chaos everywhere. The humid air was heavy on my skin, and I smelled sewage through the open window. I’d already been to Haiti twice, but this time things seemed worse than on my previous visits. The sweat began to bead up on my lip as we dodged motorcycles, trucks, cars, and children. The ride was silent, except for the thousands of people we passed who were screaming at me with their eyes.

  Two hours later we stopped next to a large, bent, black wire gate. I looked at my driver and smiled timidly; he looked back at me with his eyebrows scrunched up and mouth tense. Is he worried about something?

  After he handed me my bags, I thanked him, paid him in American dollars, and turned around. Behind me, I heard his gentle voice say in his lilting accent, “Call me if you need a ride back to the airport.” He handed me a business card. It read “Moliere. Private Taxi Driver.” I took it and tried to smile, but I’m not sure I succeeded.