The Apostle Paul said when our sins are exposed by the light, they become visible (Ephesians 5:13-14). Well, Haiti has the brightest sunlight I know. 

Growing up, I never really knew how much I needed grace. A faithful church-goer since the womb, I considered myself a pretty perfect Christian. At school, I was known as “the good girl,” hosting Bible studies on the weekends instead of parties. Grace, in my mind, was for the sinners. I, however, was a good Christian girl. 

When I moved to Haiti in my early twenties, I desperately tried to maintain the “good girl” image I had worked so hard to uphold my whole life. But, eventually, in came the light. The bright, Caribbean light. And it revealed everything: pride, envy, a quick tongue... just to name a few. 

Just like a good sunburn is always followed by your skin peeling, God’s light on my weaknesses felt much the same. The more He peeled, the more sin was found underneath, until the rawness of my heart was finally exposed. In Haiti, I learned to always have a bottle on Aloe Vera on hand for sunburns. That, and a whole lot of grace.

One night, after a hard day, I remember falling on my knees, sobbing. “Show me everything about me that I need to know,” I cried out. And I meant it. And He did. Layer by layer. Grace by grace. And I came out a much wiser, stronger, and better person for it. 

Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:9 have become the words of my own heart. “Therefore I will boast all  the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 

Now, I no longer desire fake perfection, but instead a vulnerable spirit willing to burn and peel so that God’s power may be known to all around me.