My father's voice rang with his customary authority and firmness, “You are leaving tomorrow because it is God's plan for you to leave tomorrow!”

“Why?” my sisters and I asked repeatedly. “Why do we have to leave tomorrow for the United States of America? We have not had time to say goodbye to our friends!”

Upon Arrival

The following day my sisters, Vanessa and Barbie, and I left Port-au-Prince, Haiti, for the U.S. Our quick departure from our home country and the adjustments we faced to a new culture, new climate, and new school system in the U.S. were beyond a clear understanding to us. We didn't understand the “plan of God for us” that our father spoke of so positively.

My sisters and I had been selected to join a group of other Haitian young people to go to America and sing with the Hope Haitian Choir. We had grown up in a church, were pastor's children, and music was part of our lives. We loved to sing and dance. We had auditioned for the choir and were selected out of a large number of other kids, so it wasn't that we didn't want to join the group. It was just that we weren't prepared for it to happen so fast, and we were leaving our home, the place we knew and loved—and we were young people whose friends were in Haiti! The thought of leaving it all behind and going to live in a foreign country—even the United States of America—was daunting to us. We especially didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to our friends. This “plan of God” our father talked about meant that my sisters and I would also be staying in the U.S. to complete our last year of high school.

We arrived in the U.S. in September, 2013, in Boothbay, Maine, in time to enroll in school for the beginning of the fall semester. We were going to be living that year in the home of Chuck and Barbara House. Barbara, a former music teacher and parent of an adopted Haitian child, had formed the Hope Haitian Choir in 2012. The choir is made up of children ages 7-21 who, though they may have had difficulties in their lives, love the Lord and want to share hope with others around the world. My sisters and I understood that being a part of this choir was truly a great opportunity to develop our musical potential, and it would enable us to make an impact in our world, especially in the difficult circumstances in our homeland of Haiti.

One Terrible Day

On Saturday, November 23, 2013, I woke up to a normal day. I was excited to be going to the craft fair at the Coastal Christian School where we attended. Playing around with my phone and using an app, I photoshopped a picture of my father and a picture of myself into one frame and wrote “past” on top of my father's image and wrote “future” on top of the image of me. Then I asked my sister Vanessa what she thought of my production. She said, “Hey, what do you mean past and future? Dad is not past. He's alive!”

Seconds later, Mr. and Mrs. House called for us to come downstairs. They shared with us the most shocking news—the most sad! We could not believe what we were hearing!

In the middle of the night of November 22 and 23, our father, Pastor Serléus Simon, President of the Evangelical Union of Haitian Baptist churches, had been kidnapped from the back yard of our house. He was tortured, murdered, and his body dumped in a corn field not far from where we lived. My mother, Margarette Simon, was shot and left to die while the bandits looted our house.

Confused, my sisters and I were speechless but full of questions at the same time. I really did not feel like talking—to God, or people, or even to myself. I felt engulfed by a cloud of darkness, my mind filled with thoughts of vengeance. I wished I could become Superman and fly away to Haiti to destroy all those who had done this terrible thing to my family. But in that confusing moment, the God of Peace extended His wings over us, bombarding my sisters and me with love and comfort through Chuck and Barb House, the Coastal Christian School, and the people at Boothbay Baptist Church.

We eventually learned that the police had arrested two men who confessed, but they were only doing what they were told. The leader of the gang was not caught. The only thing they actually stole from my parents' home was a laptop. People asked us if my father had enemies. If he did, he never talked about it. He was a man who served God. He didn't seek money but relied on God to provide for our needs. As a result, growing up in a pastor's home was not always easy, but we were loved by our parents and assured that our Heavenly Father would always take care of us.

Growing up in a pastor's home, I also saw the power of darkness and evil up close. The divine and demonic seemed to battle for the hearts and minds of the Haitian people. My parents faced spiritual warfare all the time. I have seen my father praying over people who were chained by demonic spirits. I have seen my mom ministering to women and children who were bound by evil desires. I have experienced firsthand God's protection over our family when we were told that our meal had been poisoned through demonic rituals. But from my early life, I came to believe that “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31).

A Hope that Death Can't Kill

It took some time for me to digest the fact that my father had been killed and my mother traumatized and widowed. But, over time, my initial anger and evil thoughts began to change, and that's an amazing act of God in my heart. Through my tears, I had to come to the place of thanking God, and saying like the man Job in the Bible, The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away (Job 1:21).

My earthly father is gone—I have to accept that. My mother is recovered, is living with my grandmother, and the church family is taking care of them. My sisters and I have been provided a host of fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters in the U.S. who cover us with comfort and love. We are still traumatized in many ways, but we have the assurance that God is in control. We believe now that God led my father to insist that my sisters and I leave Haiti for the U.S. that particular September. Had we waited for a later date to join up with the Hope Haitian Choir, we might have been at home, and all of us killed.

My sisters and I are holding on to God, and He continually surprises us. Our Uncle Azer and Auntie Johane Little made arrangement for us to come to Fort Worth, Texas, to study English intensively at Texas Christian University. We have found a new church family that cherishes us as their own children. And we have been given scholarships to continue our education in the U.S. I personally feel God calling me to attend seminary, to train to become a pastor and continue the work my father was doing. My sisters and I are thankful for what God has done in our lives. All three of us want to return to Haiti—our home, our roots. We want to bring hope to Haiti—the hope we sing about with the Hope Haitian Choir, the hope that can only be found in Jesus Christ.

(Jude Simon completed a year of intensive English study at Texas Christian University in May and will enter Southwestern Theological Seminary in the fall of 2015. He plans to study Bible and theology to fulfill a dream he has had since he was seven years old—to become a pastor like his father.)