It has been 18 months since I last opened this page and started typing. Eighteen months since I packed up and moved home from Africa to (re)start in America. Those months have been filled with transition, learning, hibernating a bit, being refreshed, traveling, family, laughter, tears and much prayer. I moved back into my house, started working again as an ICU nurse, settled back into my phenomenal church family, dealt with the death of three dear family members, continued to volunteer for Orphan Relief and Rescue, and traveled A LOT-- including three short(er) trips back to Liberia.
These 18 months have been filled with much reflection, but I have not felt, for lack of a better word, inspired, to put those thoughts into words that I could share. Lately, God has been speaking to me about using my words again. I've been reminded that my words matter more than I know.
And then a few weeks ago there was one word that rung loudly in all of our ears-- EBOLA. I was last in Liberia in June, and at that time Ebola was a quiet whisper in the trees. I am shocked at the difference only two months makes. Ebola used to be "that thing they make outbreak movies about." Now it is a real and deadly threat to hundreds that I hold dear (and countless more.) I spend more time than I should reading status updates and articles coming out of the effected zone. I receive phone calls from my Liberian friends telling me how scared they are. Multiple people have told me that they think of me every time they hear the word. Everywhere I go I am asked about it-- sometimes I feel like Ebola is all I talk about.
I am not physically in Liberia right now, but my broken heart remains there, and I feel split in half. Due to this state of emergency, it is not possible for me to travel there. I find that this furthers the divide inside my heart as I both long to be there helping the growing need, and am deeply relieved that I am not there, which leads to this cycle of guilt and relief that at times seems more than I can bear. I feel helpless. I feel that I've abandoned those that I've promised to rescue. I don't know what to do. Over and over again I've come to the conclusion that not only is prayer the only thing I can do, it is the best thing. And so I pray. I pray, and I ask others to pray, and I ask anyone reading this to please stop reading and say a prayer right now for healing in the land of Liberia, in all of West Africa.
Yesterday I was once again wrestling with all of this, asking God, "what can I do?" When I felt Him say, "Use your words" and "Spread the word." And immediately I was reminded of this old dusty blog site, a forum I have long neglected.
Today, even though I am not there, I dust off the placard that states, 'Deb in Liberia,' so that I can spread the word-- Ebola is ravaging a country I call home. I can not carry this burden by myself. Please join me in praying for a miracle and keep watching here for updates and prayer points as this crisis continues.
These 18 months have been filled with much reflection, but I have not felt, for lack of a better word, inspired, to put those thoughts into words that I could share. Lately, God has been speaking to me about using my words again. I've been reminded that my words matter more than I know.
And then a few weeks ago there was one word that rung loudly in all of our ears-- EBOLA. I was last in Liberia in June, and at that time Ebola was a quiet whisper in the trees. I am shocked at the difference only two months makes. Ebola used to be "that thing they make outbreak movies about." Now it is a real and deadly threat to hundreds that I hold dear (and countless more.) I spend more time than I should reading status updates and articles coming out of the effected zone. I receive phone calls from my Liberian friends telling me how scared they are. Multiple people have told me that they think of me every time they hear the word. Everywhere I go I am asked about it-- sometimes I feel like Ebola is all I talk about.
I am not physically in Liberia right now, but my broken heart remains there, and I feel split in half. Due to this state of emergency, it is not possible for me to travel there. I find that this furthers the divide inside my heart as I both long to be there helping the growing need, and am deeply relieved that I am not there, which leads to this cycle of guilt and relief that at times seems more than I can bear. I feel helpless. I feel that I've abandoned those that I've promised to rescue. I don't know what to do. Over and over again I've come to the conclusion that not only is prayer the only thing I can do, it is the best thing. And so I pray. I pray, and I ask others to pray, and I ask anyone reading this to please stop reading and say a prayer right now for healing in the land of Liberia, in all of West Africa.
Yesterday I was once again wrestling with all of this, asking God, "what can I do?" When I felt Him say, "Use your words" and "Spread the word." And immediately I was reminded of this old dusty blog site, a forum I have long neglected.
Today, even though I am not there, I dust off the placard that states, 'Deb in Liberia,' so that I can spread the word-- Ebola is ravaging a country I call home. I can not carry this burden by myself. Please join me in praying for a miracle and keep watching here for updates and prayer points as this crisis continues.
3 comments:
I stand in heart and prayer with you Deb. God bless you and those who are suffering, AGAIN.
I stand in heart and prayer with you Deb.
Deb, I am praying and I am pleased to call you friend and fellow prayer partner.
Colossians 1:9-10
Mary Sue in Iowa
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