Hello one and all, hope you're ready to welcome April in (whether that means warmth or snow, depending on your location), and if you're around my parents in the vicinity of Unity, ME, please wish them a happy 30th Anniversary on April Fool's day! Looks like it was never a joke after all, what a relief!
This is just a quick update of what's going on here on the Monrovian front. We've had some adventures since I last wrote, and survived to tell about them. Last weekend a group of us travelled to a local beach town called Robersport and camped overnight on the beach. As always, it was the transit that spiced life up with UN checkpoint stops, flat tires, and even one of the cars in our caravan in a ditch! Thank God no one was hurt and we were able to laugh loud and long over the fact that some of our crew got a ride in the back of a big Pakistani UN truck atop bamboo, alongside many middle eastern men with long beards who speak Hindi. You never know what life in Liberia will bring, but it's safe to trust that it will be an adventure.
Then, today for church, we had an opportunity to visit a Calvary Chapel in Liberia, which happens to be the church that my family attends in Maine, and I also attended while living in Oregon. This church was started in 1995 by some people from Florida who still come and go. It turns out that there's 13 Calvary Chapels in Liberia, 2 of which are in the city of Monrovia. It was interesting to note the similarities and the differences between the churches at home and here in Monrovia. I'm so thankful for the diversity that God has placed in the world, what a boring place it would be without it! He really has made this a rich, colorful, exciting, surprising world, how creative He is! Hope (no, really) to put some pictures up soon!
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Hello again, Mama Liberia!
Well, the Africa Mercy has arrived safely back in the Freeport of Monrovia, Liberia after a long and refreshing break in the Canary Islands. While we were on a sort of holiday in Tenerife, I found it hard to imagine returning here to work for an entire 10 month outreach, yet now that we have arrived, I find myself amazed by how God has prepared my heart to serve here again. I have found overwhelming joy in returning to our church, the busy, crowded marketplaces, and even to the hectic surgery schedule. These Liberian people blow my mind with their warmth, joy, thanksgiving in the midst of adversity, heartiness, and unique culture. I think I can truly say that I love mama Liberia (the name of a popular Liberian gospel song, claiming "All hail, mama Liberia", and that I long to see Liberia rise again. This is most certainly God's intention and plan for this beautiful, rich nation.
I wanted to share a significant experience that I had last weekend, which came as an unexpected blessing. A group of about 5 of us went walking into town to do some shopping in the market and see what was going on between here and there. Whenever I am out walking I try to speak to any blind people and look at their eyes to try to determine if they would be good candidates for surgery on the ship. Well, early in our walk, we saw a young woman being set out onto the sidewalk to make her way all alone down the busyy street, using an umbrella to pick out her steps. The sidewalk had lots of dips and rough spots, but also was totally missing some manhole covers...slightly treacherous, if you can imagine it. So, we struck up a conversation with her, found out her name was Mary and was 33 years old. She had been blind since birth, and I knew that surgery would not help her vision, but we discovered that she had the same destination that we had, so we asked if we could walk with her. I was amazed at how trusting she was as I held her hand, telling her to step up or down, go to the left or right, etc. I tried to imagine myself in the same situation and knew how tentative and untrusting I would most certainly be. As we walked, we asked her why she was out, and she explained that she was singing "God's songs". The only way Mary can make any money to support she and her son was to go out onto the streets singing songs of worship to God, playing her little Sasa (typical Liberian church percussion instrument, made of a gourd). We continued on, learning a little more about Mary's life, and before we parted ways, we asked her to sing for us. She pulled out her sasa, started a rhythm, and began to sing like an angel. Her songs were of God's goodness, her blindness, and yet full of spiritual sight and deep joy. A crowd quickly began to gather to listen. How can a person with so much difficulty and seeming unfairness handed to them sing with such thanksgiving, peace, and joy? It convicts us for our ingratitude, and reminds us that joy is not always found where we expect it. As we parted ways from Mary, we thanked her, gave her somse money, and knew that she had given us a much greater gift.
I wanted to share a significant experience that I had last weekend, which came as an unexpected blessing. A group of about 5 of us went walking into town to do some shopping in the market and see what was going on between here and there. Whenever I am out walking I try to speak to any blind people and look at their eyes to try to determine if they would be good candidates for surgery on the ship. Well, early in our walk, we saw a young woman being set out onto the sidewalk to make her way all alone down the busyy street, using an umbrella to pick out her steps. The sidewalk had lots of dips and rough spots, but also was totally missing some manhole covers...slightly treacherous, if you can imagine it. So, we struck up a conversation with her, found out her name was Mary and was 33 years old. She had been blind since birth, and I knew that surgery would not help her vision, but we discovered that she had the same destination that we had, so we asked if we could walk with her. I was amazed at how trusting she was as I held her hand, telling her to step up or down, go to the left or right, etc. I tried to imagine myself in the same situation and knew how tentative and untrusting I would most certainly be. As we walked, we asked her why she was out, and she explained that she was singing "God's songs". The only way Mary can make any money to support she and her son was to go out onto the streets singing songs of worship to God, playing her little Sasa (typical Liberian church percussion instrument, made of a gourd). We continued on, learning a little more about Mary's life, and before we parted ways, we asked her to sing for us. She pulled out her sasa, started a rhythm, and began to sing like an angel. Her songs were of God's goodness, her blindness, and yet full of spiritual sight and deep joy. A crowd quickly began to gather to listen. How can a person with so much difficulty and seeming unfairness handed to them sing with such thanksgiving, peace, and joy? It convicts us for our ingratitude, and reminds us that joy is not always found where we expect it. As we parted ways from Mary, we thanked her, gave her somse money, and knew that she had given us a much greater gift.
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