Welcome to a few short stories 
about my first Haiti experience (Jan.12-Jan. 19, 2013)

in Limbe, Haiti (northern Haiti near Cap Haitian). 

I was invited to teach at the Christian University of North Haiti 

on the topic of pastoral care. 

I went with a gifted team of five from Arkansas. 

Hopefully something in this report will bless you or entertain you or disturb you 

. . . or all of that.  

~ Kay Hardin

Put on Your Sunday Best!  We’re Going to Church!

We left Little Rock and flew all day Saturday, January 12, getting into Port-au-Prince late that afternoon. Our flight for Cap Haitian didn’t leave out of there until the next morning around 9:00.

I was a bit worried and confused. I could not understand how on Sunday morning we could fly from Port-au-Prince to Cap Haitian and then drive from Cap Haitian to Upper Limbe, Haiti (about a 20 mile drive) to make it to Sunday morning church on time.

That was one of my first mistakes. (I had already racked up several “first” mistakes so far. Now another one.) Eleven o’clock Sunday worship is not considered the most-holy-sacred-we’ll-all-blow-up-if-we-don’t-meet-then-for-worship hour across the globe. Their church (called "Haiti's Eden") 

started at 1:30PM and that was children’s church. 

Then after around 300 children had Bible learning, sermon, and singing, they dispersed and the adults filled up the place from 3:00 - 4:30 PM.

   

The children at Eden

When women and men go to church, they dress in their best. The places they live may be surrounded by garbage and they may have holes for windows and their homes may be layered with dust and dirt from the land, but they come in their white blouses, and—for the men—their dark trousers. I saw several men’s trousers creased—as in ironed. No matter if the road potholes are filled with mudwater, the ladies will wear shoes with little heels and the men will come in shoes that shine.

I have no idea where they get these clothes. The dressed -up look is so strongly opposite to what so many have (next to nothing) and where so many live (brick-o-block square places or little sheds of sorts). The men and women also dressed up like that to come to the clinic. How honoring.

Before Bob Fielding preached (translated by Dr. Monel Jules), praise music was led by women ministers and by a praise team. We lifted the roof off (which was a blue tarp already blowing in the wind) with our praises. Of course I didn’t know French, but I recognized some of the songs and choruses and sang along in English. Truly my heart and soul worshiped with the Haitian adults on Sunday as we loved and praised Jesus.

Then a small, specialized singing group of Haitian men and women—maybe 8 or 10 dressed alike—came and sang a beautiful song IN ENGLISH. I was not expecting to hear  words I recognized. I began to cry. I realized they had practiced and memorized that English song just for us five from Arkansas.

It all made me think of King David when his beloved, loyal, fighting men had risked their lives and brought him water from his favorite well. But he refused to drink it and poured it out before the Lord saying, “There is no way, God, that I’ll drink this! This isn’t mere water, it’s their life-blood—they risked their very lives to bring it!” (2 Sam. 23:16-17, The Message)  

                                      

Kinda like pouring out that water, I felt like we should have been the ones singing songs in French to them. Yet they gave us their gift of hard work to bless us in worship. Amazing.

Health Clinic Brings “Light” to Limbe

On Sunday after the Haitian Christian church service, Drs. Monel and Joselie Jules showed us where the four-day clinic would be held—down in the unfinished basement under the church’s foundation. Down in the dark, grey, brick-o-block rooms with square holes for windows. 

I swallowed hard. I kinda don’t do well surrounded in graying darkness, and I was gonna be in one of those rooms the next morning helping distribute the meds. (Sounds like I'm a wimp.)

I love light—lots of it. I have lamps all over my house. I may be a lampaholic. (Well-meaning friends suggest it is so.) When I’m home in the evening or even on an overcast day, the lights are on all over my house. Glorious light.

Our concrete clinic rooms had no lamps or light. We only had obscured daylight which eventually got brighter in the afternoon b/c our window holes faced the west. But Dr. Joselie, nurse-practitioner Virginia, triage-nurse Sheila, and several of us in the “med room” all apprenticed alongside Jesus  for the healing of the people, no matter my light quandary.

Dr. Joselie inserting an IV to fight Malaria sickness as nurse Sheila assists.

Filling the Dr.'s orders through  pharmaceuticals

The doctor gently listens for a problem

A power-house medical team--Sheila Schaffner, Dr. Joselie Jules, and Virginia Hartness

One thing I noticed in Haiti—not many Haitians have access to electricity . . . ever. When darkness falls, the village Haitians go outside and hang together and visit and talk—in the dark. They walk in the dark. Cook in the dark. Finish tasks in the dark. They even try to read in the dark. One night the lights of a passing car revealed two Haitian men looking over some paperwork together. And then as the car drove off, they were in darkness again. No matter how dusky-to-dark things get, Haitians are accustomed to living and working and surviving.

Even the beautiful university campus had restricted times for electricity. We had light and electricity from 10 AM to 2PM and from 6 PM to 10 PM. That meant NO ELECTRIC CLURLERS for my hair in the morning. 

Yes I did apply make-up to my face. I went outside and propped my mirror up on top of who-knows truck in the morning light. I called it “beauty shop” time as I put on powder, blush, eye shadow, and mascara. Bob and a few other visitors thought “beauty shop” time was funny. And it was!

And so nurses Virginia and Sheila, me one day and Bob for two days as "med distributors," two Haitian young women assistants, and Dr. Joselie Jules saw and treated between 650-700 people in four days.

People waiting in the clinic's triage hallway. Scores of others sat and stood outside waiting their turn.

              Healing work in the shell of a basement (an upgrade to holding a clinic under a tree),

                        Healing work in a darkened place,

                              Healing work as the patients kept coming into the night requiring that two Arkansas nurses, a doctor, and make-shift "pharmacists" to use their flashlights . . .

           

 . . . all for the glory of the Lord God as they brought healing to the Haitians.

“Then great multitudes came to Him . . . and He healed them.” (Matt.15:30, NKJV)

The Haitian-Arkansas clinic team 
stood before the needy masses 
and did the healing work of Jesus

as they shined the light of Christ.

The Classroom and the Students

After I worked at the clinic all day on Monday, I hung out at L'Université Chrétienne du Nord d'Haïti (the Christian University of North Haiti) for the rest of the week. I spent some time observing Roger Gaunt (employee of the Arkansas Baptist State Convention who specializes in church planting) teach about the steps and goals to church planting. I loved his material. 

Roger making a church-planting point.

He was animated and excited about his topic as were the students. Most of the 25-30 theology students in the class will go out and start churches somewhere in Haiti. They were chomping at the bit for help with that.

The second and third days Bob Fielding taught on how to do jail ministry . . .

Bob teaching jail ministry through animated stories.

and I taught  some basics of pastoral care—lots about active listening, non-verbal communication, and about the four aspects of care and compassion. I was striving to cast a broad net of pastoral care over the students because many will not go into “formal” hospital ministry, yet all will use the basics of pastoral care in ministering to their church members and in serving their communities. 

Can't talk without my hands

Outside of our classroom on a break

Bob, Roger, and I all had a variety of translators by our sides as we stood in front of the theology class listing facts, telling stories, drawing on the white board, and waving our hands in the air. Often our translators would mirror our antics, intonations, and even facial expressions. It was fun and sometimes funny.

Our last day was a Q and A day. The students could ask any question about our material or about anything at all—class-related or not. We met in a beautiful outside setting. I loved that “round table” time with them and with Dr. Jules, Roger, and Bob.

"Round TableTime": Students could ask any question about anything

Dr. Jules informed me that most of the theology students who would become pastors will not make a salary. They will be starting churches in communities that can’t afford to pay them. And they will not only start churches and preach and teach the good news that the Kingdom of God is found in Jesus Christ, but these pastors will also work to better the communities and the lifestyles of the people—striving to bring health care to them, striving to bring employment improvement, living improvement, and family and marriage improvement. All for little or NO salary. The students I faced in my class will have to find additional ways to support their families as they follow God’s pull on their hearts and souls.

Honestly that kind of commitment quietened me and sobered me as I looked into their eager faces. That kind of commitment made me want to bury my face in my hands and be still and just listen for God as I considered their affection for, delight in, and obedience toward the Lord . . . as I considered their sacrifice.

They Sang in the Chapel           

As I write this, I hear the Newsboys singing “He Reigns” from my laptop in the kitchen which is tuned to a “praise and worship” Pandora station.

               

                It's the song of the redeemed
                Rising from the African plain
                It's the song of the forgiven
                Drowning out the Amazon rain
                The song of Asian (Haitian)  believers
                Filled with God's holy fire
                It's every tribe, every tongue, every nation
                A love song born of a grateful choir

                It's all God's children singing
                Glory, glory, hallelujah
                He reigns, He reigns
                It's all God's children singing
                Glory, glory, hallelujah
                He reigns, He reigns

And isn’t that the truth…..

One evening around 9:00 I went over to the Christian University of Northern Haiti’s chapel (in bad need of repair and remodeling) where a group of around 15 college guys lined up on the stage to sing a few Christian songs. There was no piano or synthesizer, no praise band, and no vocal CD to sing along with. Only one young man used his guitar to give them their parts.

As I and others sat on the makeshift, rickety benches (of which mine felt like it could have cracked and tumbled any moment—surely not my size and stature??), I worshiped God along with those bright Haitian faces and singing voices. Even though we were so different in culture, language, and life experience, we were one in loving and worshiping the Lord. I loved their heart and soul as they sang in that little chapel in Limbe, Haiti.

He does reign....glory, glory, glory. 

She's on God-fire...

We slept in Port au Prince our first night in Haiti. Bob had arranged for us to stay at a children’s home. As we drove through the alley-ways and down the battered, neck-breaking streets of PAP (where rebuilding and restoration is making progress), we were surrounded by  rubble, grey brick, concrete walls,  trash, and people staring. It made me wonder what we were getting ourselves into at the children’s home.

Soon our SUV pulled up to a green metal gate and honked. A man armed with a rifle opened it for us and we pulled in to "New Life Children’s Home." Our Haiti world suddenly changed from shades of dirt and brick to rich greens, sky blue, bright red, and happy yellow.  

New Life Children's Home in Port Au Prince, Haiti

The plants native to Haiti flourished in the well-cared for grounds of New Life. Buildings were painted rich, happy colors. Sidewalks welcomed us to enter as a carpet of landscaped grass and flowers showed off their beauty.  This place was “day” compared to the “night” of Port au Prince we had just driven through. 

We arrived just in time to eat with the other visiting guests who were there to help with whatever was needed. I asked one of the staffers to point out to me who ran the children's home. She pointed to a sharp-looking woman sitting at the next table talking to a couple and said, “That’s Miriam Frederick. She’s the director of this place.” I slipped over to that table and listened in on the stories and descriptions being shared about New Life.  Soon I got my turn and asked why, how, and when questions of Miriam.

She and some others had a vision for the ministry in 1977 and left the States in the early 1980’s to stay in Port au Prince full time. When I asked her why, her ice blue eyes seemed to fill with  fire as she looked straight into me and voiced that no child, no baby should die from hunger or abandonment. She spoke of God’s love and calling. She spoke of feeding, housing, and raising kids. She spoke of loving children and showing them a new way of living. She said she’s got to do all that she can do in her little corner of the world.  

Miriam Frederick--director of "New Life Children's Home"

The home cares for handicapped children, too.

Snack time!

Helping and loving the "least of these"

Jimmy Dorrell, director of Mission Waco (Texas) and pastor of Church Under the Bridge said: “…for a radical gospel we need a radical church” (Trolls and Truth: 14 Realities about Today’s Church that We don’t Want to See). Radical gospel and radical church are happening right there at "New Life Children’s Home."

This petite, blonde, blue-eyed, nurse-trained, church-ordained woman goes out into Haiti's ditches and up into Haiti's mountains to find God’s little lost, abandoned sheep. And she brings them to "New Life" to find life and love. As I listened and looked at her, it was as if it’s impossible for her to think she could do anything else but that with her life and times.

In Under the Predictable Plant, Eugene Peterson, former pastor at Our King Presbyterian Church for 29 years, uses some strong words about holiness and what he believes has become of those who lead the church:

       “The pastoral vocation in America is embarrassingly banal. 

        It is . . . pursued under the canons of job efficiency and career 
        management . . . reduced to the dimensions of a job description. 
        It is banal because it is an idol . . . that can be measured and manipulated 

        at the convenience of the worker. Holiness is not banal. 

        Holiness is blazing.” 

I was challenged by Miriam's intensity, her commitment, her vision, her sacrifice. Challenged and convictingly uncomfortable by her non-banal following of God.

Her holiness is blazing in Haiti.

(Google   http://www.newlife4kids.org/    and/or    http://www.newlife4kids.com/    for more info.)

Delight

                                                 I have a  C o n f e s s i o n  . . .          

I did not spend a lot of time reading my Bible or being in quiet prayer during the eight days of the trip. Lack of privacy, lack of down time, lack of energy, and an overload of cultural-emotional feelings and thoughts had me drawing strength from the prayers others were praying for me during my days there. I would prefer intentional time with the Lord every day (which, I might as well be honest here, I struggle with being daily in my own life and times at home), but I just did not do that….except for once or twice.

One of those times I was reading Psalm 37 from my little blue New Testament NRSV as I sat on the short stone wall that runs behind the women’s lodging.  

Bob sneakily snapped this pic

“Take delight in the LORD . . .” verse 4 says. I have always loved that verse. I have even written a song from that verse. But most of my excitement and meaning about v.4 usually came from the second part—“and he will give you the desires of your heart.”  Yet the morning I read this in Limbe, Haiti, it seemed the Holy Spirit turned my heart’s gaze to the delighting-in-the-LORD part. 

I instantly thought of:

§   the Haitian young men and women in the theology class.

§  the college men in the singing group that evening in the chapel.

§  Dr. Monel Jules who is the visionary dean of the school of theology and the visionary church-planter/pastor of “Haiti’s Eden” church.

§  Dr. Joselie Jules who is the visionary young woman doctor (and wife of Monel) with a vision to bring health care to her impoverished community.

All of these wonderful Haitian Christians exemplified “delighting” in the Lord. They have a passion for God and for people. They laugh, sing, pray, and enjoy the company of God and of those God gives them. 

As I observed them, I witnessed their joyful, vibrant, problem-transcending delight—in God, for God, and because of God. I sensed the Holy Spirit and the Haitian Christians had teamed up to teach me something very important—to “take delight in the LORD.”

Four years ago when my mom died, the counter-affect was that my little Hardin/Neville family (with the exception of my brother, Brad) practically dispersed and disappeared with her. Over the last four years I have struggled with the grief and implications of that loss. It’s been a tough recovery. My “delight-o-meter” got broke in all of those emotional earth-moving-under-my-feet changes. But the Lord has given me wonderful counselors, spiritual directors, and great friends who have all assisted me in my gradual renewing and building anew.  

The witness of Joselie and Monel . . . 

Monel, Amy, Joey, Joselie Jules

and of the students and other Christian Haitians I met . . .  

Our wonderful cooks

She attended a mid-wife class

Children at church are the same all over the world.

They speak to my new self and new heart under construction. The message is: No matter the circumstances or the “state I’m in” (to mangle Paul’s words in Phil. 4:11) -- 

Go ahead. 

Take it. 

Take that delight. 

Grab it. 

Seize, capture, win, and hold on to the mysterious, wonderful, jubilant, laughter-filled, life-changing delight found in the LORD himself. 

Chase God. 

Be chased by God. 

Enter into God’s play. Laugh and scream like His kid. 

Laugh hysterically as God tackles me or as I tackle God. 

Be a child alive and find my delight in the One who is crazy about me. 

Let it be so in me as I witnessed in my Haitian Christian brothers and sisters.

“Was it great?”

People ask about my time in Haiti, “Was  it just great?!”

   Snorkeling off the cost of Hawaii or Bermuda would  be great.

Drinking hot chocolate in a chalet coupled with snow skiing in Colorado would be great.

 Hiking beautiful trails in New England during the peak fall season

                   would be great.

                                        

Haiti was not great like that, but . . .

This trip to Haiti was great because:

§  The Arkansas team members were gifted and godly people... and fun! 

§   Bob Fielding took such pains to make the trip work like clockwork.

§  The Haitian children are beautiful.

§  Our hosts Monel and Joselie Jules made us feel so 

     welcome, appreciated, and loved.

§  Our head Haitian cook (Mari ?) and all her assistants bent over

     backwards to make our meals delicious, pleasant, and Americanized.

§  The theology students were fun to teach and to be around
§  The Haitian people in the community were so gracious and kind during clinic and church days.

§  I carried the love and blessing of friends and family who had contributed to this trip prayerfully, emotionally, financially, and/or spiritually for me. That kind of support and kindness buoyed me all along the way.  

Otherwise I found myself   emotionally overwhelmed  by all I saw,  experienced, and had no answers for.

§  Seeing Port-au-Prince still in rubble, surrounded by walls of great brick-o-blocks, and littered with trash was hard.

§ Seeing people scraping by in Port-au-Prince, Cap Haitian, and Limbe was hard.

§  Seeing children turning trash into toys is hard.

§ Seeing women and children bear such heavy burdens on their heads—carrying water, food goods, products for life and work—day and night (yes in the dark) was hard.

§  Seeing trash surrounding their homes, lining the streets, filling  makeshift ditches, constantly burning in little piles is hard.

§  Dealing with a rat or two in the place where we stayed and knowing that the Haitians must deal with rodents as life’s everyday, common occurrences is hard.

§ Seeing malnourished babies due to no milk or lack of food is hard.

§ Seeing a woman with the skin on her hand nearly rotted off because she followed a Voodoo witch “doctor’s” advice is hard.

§ Being aware of the numerous people coming to the clinic with large tumors of which nothing can be done due to lack of medical/surgical equipment is hard.

§ Knowing that all the medicines prescribed and administered (meds that Arkansas Baptists and private individuals bought and brought) will soon all run out is hard—especially in light of those who need consistent meds for controlling diseases like high blood pressure and diabetes.

§ Aware that a ministry student has been accepted into a wonderful seminary here in America so she can acquire her masters in marriage and family counseling yet she cannot go at this time due to lack of money is hard. (If you want more information, see the assistance-request letter of Mrs. Loulouse Alcime-Macajoux at the end of the blog.)

§ Looking into the faces of some of Haiti’s finest young Christian men and women who will invest their lives for God with little or no remuneration is hard.

§ Comparing all that I have—food extravagant, money, a good job, a fine house, entertainment, pleasure, electricity, clean water, garbage pick-up, medicines galore, transportation, clothes abundant, the love, life, and healing of God in my soul, and on and on—to what the Haitians have . . . is hard, very hard.

So instead of saying “It was great!” 

I can say my little week’s trip to Haiti 

was good for me 

and was deeply meaningful.

Never, Ever

There are several “never, ever” discoveries I experienced as a result of this Haiti trip.

First Never, Ever

I thought I was ready for Haiti. I saw others go and come back multiple times throughout the last several years. I watched as my church—Park Hill Baptist Church—blessed and prayed over several medical teams and constructions teams of church members going to Haiti. The people who went were the same people when they came back. I liked it that the Haiti mission people seemed OK and not crazy, cranky, or crying upon return. I had listened to stories from others. Read articles. Looked up a few things on the internet. I felt like I was ready.

 

I was never, ever ready for what I saw and felt for the people of Haiti. I was never, ever ready for the delight I witnessed in the faces of the Christian Haitians who—compared to Americans—have practically nothing (in the "things" categories). I don’t think anyone or any “readiness conference” could have prepared me. I just had to dive into the pool head first and take the shock of the cold as it happened.

Second Never, Ever

A theology student met me outside after class and asked me in English (many of the students are good with their English unlike this lazy, un-French-speaking American), “Will you come back and teach again?” His face was full of his beautiful smile. His eyes so kind and eager. He was genuinely interested in me coming back (even though I feel that my last day of pastoral care teaching struggled to be applicable to their culture and therefore was difficult to apply to their ministry situations). All I could reply was, “If God leads me. But I just don’t know…..” 

Two nights later, Monel looked across his living room at me and asked if I might come back again. I felt caught like an animal in a trap. Why? Because I was ready to be home. I was drowning in my inner, emotional reactions to Haiti, and I never, ever wanted to feel that way again. 

And so I looked at Monel and replied, “God led me here this first time and if he leads me here again, then I will be back.” I felt ashamed that I could not happily, lovingly, joyfully respond “Why yes! Of course! I am crazy about your home country and your home town! When can I come back and teach again?” But stronger than shame was my desire to go home and quit emotionally drowning from all I was experiencing. 

Third Never, Ever

I hope I never, ever lose the impact the people of Haiti, the conditions of Haiti, and the called-out Christians of Haiti have had on me. I know that the attrition of time promotes a fading of feeling. Still I hope the gut of this trip, the gut of God for Haiti, stains me for life. I hope to never, ever be white-washed from the impact and the lesson(s) the Holy Spirit has used and might continue to use in my life.

Fourth Never, Ever

While there, I didn’t want my Arkansas team (who had all been to Haiti between two and four times each) to hear how selfish I felt about wanting to run away to home (smiley face to the team if you are reading). I also didn’t want to hurt any Haitian feelings. But mostly I didn’t want to offend God with a blatant “no way could or would I do this again!” But what’s funny is that God already heard my never-ever thoughts since He is tuned in to my heart and soul.

So I went ahead and confessed to the Lord my strong resistance about being called to the hard places, even though, on paper and to the naked eye, I looked (mostly) like a good candidate. 

Good candidate on paper...

Single. No children. Not land-locked in debt. Have a pilgrim, adventuresome spirit. Mostly independent. And there’s no one I provide for, who depends on me.

The negatives are age, some health issues, a sinner extraordinaire (saved by the grace of God), and my wanting comforts the way I like them….. Whoa….. wait a minute….. Yep. I discovered I REALLY  like my comforts and conveniences here in North Little Rock America and would prefer to never, ever swap them out for anything less. (There’s spiritually descriptive words I could use here to name this condition, but let’s move on….)

After I got settled back home and slept for a week, 

    









       started eating meals again (me and food had issues for a 
couple of months all the way up through the week of Haiti),                                                                                                                                                                      

and quietened my mind and spirit in order to get still before the Lord while I went about my business, 

I knew that I never, ever wanted to block God from using me or blessing me or sending me anytime, any where, for any reason, for however long. (I shudder as I type this. Have to be honest.) I might be afraid. I might be selfish. And I might be whiney-uncomfortable. But I don’t want to declare—“never, ever” to God. May my heart be open and my hands be unclutched to whatever He wants.

And I hope that somehow, one day I can go back 

to Limbe, Haiti, 

to Eden of Haiti, 

to the University of North Haiti 

and maybe teach about my favorite subject--Spiritual Formation. 

God has used, and I'm guessing will continue to use, all of these events, thoughts, actions, Scriptures, and relationships I’ve written about in this Haiti report 
for my very own personal spiritual formation.

I am grateful for all the Holy Spirit Teacher has taught and is teaching me

through His wonderful creation of Haiti

and His beloved Haitians.

  

Thank you for taking the time to read through all of this.


If you are a new friend from Haiti, 
My life and heart have been 
wonderfully changed and enlarged 
because of you.

If you are friend or family state-side,
God has given me love and blessings

through the gift of your prayers and companionship--

no matter what continent, country, state, 

or state of mind I’m in!

Letter from 

Loulouse Alcimé-Macajoux 

requesting financial assistance for school

                                           

                                                                       

        

  Loulouse Alcimé-Macajoux

c/o Agape Flights #22532

100 Airport Ave

Venice Fl 34285-3901

Phone: (509) 3624 5221

or (509) 3356 5840

loulousemacajoux@yahoo.com or

loulouse.alcime-macajoux@asburyseminary.edu

 Dear ones,

            

Christian greetings in the matchless name of our Savior.

            

You might be surprised when receiving this letter. Let me begin by thanking you for taking the time out to read it. I am Loulouse Alcime-Macajoux from Haiti and ministering along with my husband at Agape Ministries in Limbe (North) also works at Northern Haiti Christian University in Limbé. We thank God for this opportunity He has given us despite all odds.

The mishaps I have been experiencing throughout my studies have humbled me in some way or another to let God takes his stand in my life. I will not change the desire I have to serve Him in good and bad times also I will always cherish the thought of Ortberg: “The call to holy work is the result of careful and consistent listening to God”. Though I can put my whole heart into making a go of my call, but I do need others to grace some difficult financial moments that I may face to concrete not only the call, but also the vision He has given me. I would appreciate if you would like to be part of that journey in some ways or another.  

I have already missed a lot of opportunities in my Master of Arts in Marriage and Family Counseling (MAMFC) program, for some reasons the school still holds my full tuition scholarship (12,120 US per year). I am taking the last two online classes I supposed to take this Fall and Spring (Sept.-Dec. 2012 and February-May 2013). I have obligation now to be on campus in Fall 2013 before anything gets worse. I now need some money to continue my studies. If God speaks to you to help financially, please feel free to contact the school or me personally.

May He always be the Sustainer of our lives as we seek to serve Him despite it all.

Sincerely yours,

Loulouse Alcimé-Macajoux

Ref.: Dr. Jules CASSEUS, jcasseus@mac.com   

Master of Arts in Marriage and Family Counseling (MAMF): 2 years (Fall 2013-2015) and 6 months internship. 

Campus: My primary campus is now Orlando for the online classes and I will transfer in Kentucky in next Fall God’s willing.

EXPENSES per year

Tuition: $12, 120 per year. My scholarship will cover this.

Educational expenses: $4,000

Boarding: $ 8,000 per year

Health insurance: 3,128 per year

Books: $2,000 per year (counseling books are expensive)

TOTAL: $17,128  per year and  $34, 256 for the 2 years

P.S.: My husband will also be there with me.

School Address:

Asbury Theological Seminary

Financial Department

204 N. Lexington Avenue

Wilmore, KY 40390

Contact person: Mr. Elliot Curtis

Curtis.elliot@asburyseminary.edu

Phone: 859.858.3581