Routine

I would say that life here is coming to be in a routine now. I have been here almost 5 months, which blows my mind, because it means I am almost 1/4 finished my commitment with Mercy Ships. Sometimes it feels like an overwhelmingly long time left to finish, but other times it feels like it will be finished in a flash. Anyway, I am thankful to be here, though there are many struggles. The past few days, I have been thinking about the small sacrifice I am making here compared to the missionaries who come and live in a community, among the poor. Sure, I go out into Africa for a few hours a day, see a little of the pain, begin to feel a big overwhelmed or angry or helpless or enraged or irritated, or just plain sad, but then I make my little journey back to the big, white ship, and climb back onboard, back to the west, back to comfort, back to a place where I can kind of block it all out, or maintain my own certain levels of comfort. I don't know if God will choose to call me to longterm service with a people group, but I certainly realize how difficult it would be, and how really comfortable our service here, onboard the ship, truly is. I know that I don't need to worry about that call right now, but instead just need to live out this calling to the best of my ability, but I just come to gain such a sense of respect for those who live here, in Liberia, day in and day out, among the people, alongside them in their difficulties. I take comfort in the fact that I know that if God calls you to a place like this, He will also provide the grace and strength to endure, but I'm just increasingly aware of the struggle of it all.

On Friday afternoon, I went to the local hospital with one of my co-workers to pick up one of her friends who was getting discharged. He had been quite sick for several weeks, and had been diagnosed with HIV while in the hospital, at which point his wife had been tested, and had also been found to be positive. The hospital was a heavy and oppressed place, full of pain and agony, with little hope, comfort, or joy. This young man cried tears of joy as he finally (after waiting over 24 hours for his discharge, haggling over financial issues) exited the hospital, as he had been convinced that he might not survive his stay there, and might not ever see his children and home again. The whole situation was not an easy one to be aware of, but it was so good to come to understand what it means to become sick here in Liberia, how hopeless it is, how horribly people are treated in the hospital, the conditions of staying there, the difficulty to acquire medications.....I could go on and on, but suffice it to say that the health situation here in Liberia is desperate, and sick people are powerless in the system, completely uninformed, and I fear, quite mis-treated. May God have mercy on the sick here, and may we be one vessel of His mercy in this place.
Thanks again for your support and comments. Loving and missing you all so much.

Nimba pics

Mt Nimba

Over last weekend we had a ship's holiday and had a 4-day weekend, over which a group of us decided to head out for a little African adventure....all of which was African style. About 16 of us loaded into an African "cho-cho" which we had chartered and rode for 7 hours to the city of Ganta. Luggage sat under out feet or on our laps. We alternated shoulder positions in order to fit across the tiny bench seats. Half of us breathed in, while the other half breathed out....just kidding, it wasn't quite that bad. While space was low, spirits were high, and we sang and laughed, and took frequent stretch breaks. Once we arrived, we stayed in town in a little guest house for the night, and then headed out for the mountain the next morning. The road had been "cut", so our cho-cho dropped us off on one side of the gap, and taxis picked us upon the other side. We walked across logs laid over the river cutting the road. After about 6 stops by various guards and immigration officers, we arrived at the famous Mt. Nimba (historically mined for iron, but shut down since the war), negotiated our way past the "Mittal Steel" security men, and gained access to the beautiful, secluded mountains. We hiked for a few hours, scrambling up some hillside not really prepared for pedestrian traffic, and summitted, settling in for the night. While on the top, we worshipped the Lord, enjoyed some gourmet Ramen, laughed heartily about everything, watched an impressive lightning show, and appreciated the quiet and fresh air of the West African Mountains. It was a refreshing and delightful trip, with a wonderful group of fun people. Since I always do camping with 12 year olds, I found myself repeatedly impressed and surprised by the group's great attitudes and lack of complaining. I could go on for pages, but instead I will attach some pictures that will say so much more. Enjoy!

Dreads