There have been many poignant moments that I thought would poetically split my life into two halves, Before and After. Those all pale in comparison to my trip to Haiti.Haiti was the hardest month of my life. Period. It is not for the faint of heart. Not simply because I am nowhere near “outdoorsy” (my favorite story is sitting around with the girls playing a get-to-know-you game, and Leah asked us to name our favorite trees. I said green. I was not joking) but because I’ve never felt more vulnerable. Unprotected in the wilderness, apart from my usual armor of makeup and heels, aside from my vices and subtle addictions… there I was, suffocating in mosquito netting, being serenaded nightly by frogs, and battling giant killer moths. However, more shocking to me than my contention with nature, was the silence. The serenity. The definable lack of distractions. Nowhere to hide from God. Leaving it all behind was an understatement. I went to a malnourished country to see the poverty of my own soul. I was laid bare before my maker on a mountain top in Haiti. And when the dust settled, soaked in tears with repentance and undeserved forgiveness, He showed me the new life He had waiting for me. I came back from Haiti with a new purpose and mission in life. From time spent daily in the rural medical clinic in Passe Catabois, I pursued Nursing School with an insatiable passion, and now have been an RN for over a year. I played games, sang songs, painted murals, delivered babies, and laid hands on the dying. But it was my personal transformation that will always define the trip, the beauty in the breakdown. It was a total exfoliation of the dead skin of my life. Tough… but awesome.