A Beautiful Mess

It is common in Haiti for artisans to sell their paintings, woodwork, and other goods on the street. On our last visit, Todd and I wanted to pick out a painting to hang in our new home. We wanted something authentically Haiti, something that our boys would appreciate as they grow older in our home. They helped us pick it out, and we excitedly negotiated a price. Even the boys would say, “I give you 40!” and then giggle. 

As most things in Haiti go, it was no small task to find a way to get this thing home. Todd rolled up the canvas and found a bag that holds large loaves of bread and was able to fit it in the side pocket of his backpack. We didn’t think another thing about it, except maybe we both secretly wondered what it was going to look like when we unrolled it at home - no doubt a metaphor of this adoption process.  What's this going to look like when we actually bring them home?

As suspected, little blue, orange, and purple specks spilled out as it was opened – paint that could no longer hold on from the wear and tear of a backpack and plane rides. And what was underneath the paint that had fallen was another image. Because resources are so minimal in Haiti, we assume the artists just paint over existing paintings. At first I was frustrated – “Oh, we spent money on this beautiful painting and went to all this trouble to get it here, and it’s ruined!” I even thought about trying to find exact paint colors to cover where it had been injured.  And then I realized, this is what I do!  I hurry to hide the mess so no one can see my imperfection.  I decided to leave it as was - chipped, exposed, and still beautiful.

Today I have a different perspective as I write and enjoy it hanging in our sunroom right now. It’s messy. It has layers.  The ups and downs of life challenged its ability to keep it together.  While some of the layers are exposed, underneath lies another image, another story.  It represents life – my life, my sons’ lives, all our lives. I can no longer expect a perfect canvas. Life happens. Our paint chips. And it's okay.