George's Story

About two weeks ago, I received a call from a local hospital asking for help. A boy had been dropped off in the emergency room several weeks before, gravely ill. He ended up having emergency surgery to repair a bowel obstruction. Six weeks had passed and he was improving, but the problem was they had no where to discharge him to. The entire time he had been in the hospital he had no visitors. He had been abandoned. 

As I walked onto the ward to meet him for the first time I found a shy, very thin teenage boy.  He looked up at me with a sweet smile and told me his name was George. As George continued to talk to me, telling me his story, my heart dropped. His father had died years before, his mother last July. For the last several months he had been forced to scavenge for work and food in the bush. He and a handful of other boys his age had banded together to try and survive. It was these friends who somehow were able to get him all the way to town, to the hospital just in time when he fell sick. 

I immediately called a friend at the Ministry of Social Welfare and notified her of the boy’s situation. Within a few hours, a social worker was at the hospital interviewing him and had already arranged for him to be placed (hopefully temporarily) in an orphanage. I was thankful it was an orphanage that we know well, with a director who has experience taking care of kids with special medical needs. 

A few days later, as I drove up to the orphanage to check on George, he met me at the car with that same, sweet smile. He was moving slowly, but had improved slightly from when I had seen him in the hospital. We talked for awhile and agreed that I’d come back to see him the next week.

The night before I was scheduled to go back and visit George, I received a frantic phone call from the orphanage director. George was very sick again. His stomach was swelling, and he couldn’t eat. I told the director to get George back to the emergency room as soon as possible. They took him to the hospital, but George’s incision had already re-opened. George has been readmitted to the hospital and is currently awaiting another surgery to fix the open wound. 

This boy has already been through so much trauma, and my heart breaks for him. He’s completely and utterly alone, and his health is a grave concern. Please join us in praying for him today.

Cultural Presentation

Sing with the SawSaw.

Warmin' up the drums.

Start dancing.

Laugh a little.

Staring contest.

Wait for your turn,

Photo op!

Dance some more!

Climb to the top.

More acrobatics.

Smile!

Celebrate!

four years

Today I am celebrating four years in Liberia!

"Jesus is the one we take care of, visit, clothe, feed and comfort. Every time we do this for the poorest of the poor, to the sick, to they dying, to the lepers, (to the orphans), and to the ones who suffer from AIDS... we should not serve the poor like they were Jesus; we should serve the poor because they are Jesus." 

 -Mother Teresa

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." 

Matthew 25:40

life and death in liberia

We all say that death is part of life, but sometimes I think it is more a part of life in Liberia then anywhere else. A week doesn't go by that someone I know isn't mourning the loss of a loved one. In the last year alone-- Joseph's brother and father, Piko's brother, Amma's brother, Alvina's aunt, uncle and cousin, General's baby boy, a really good friend of Ma Mary... the list goes on and on.

Two Monday's ago I received an early morning phone call from a man I hadn't talked to in close to two years. I met Peter when Michael died. Sweet, innocent, faithful, Michael. Peter was his uncle, the one who cared for Michael when his mother and father died, who tried to get him treatment in the simplicity of rural Liberia and then sent him to Monrovia for treatment when it became obvious he was too sick. The uncle that I mourned with at the graveside and shared stories and pictures of Michael with on my front porch.

Peter lives six hours outside of Monrovia and I haven't seen him since Michael died. Unfortunately, he wasn't calling with just a friendly hello. He had news. News you never want to hear. Michael's twin brother, Mark, had been in a terrible motorbike accident, his back broken, his body paralyzed. Peter wasn't asking for anything besides prayer. "Please pray for us!" he begged me, and I promised him I would.

I thought of Peter and Mark several times over the next week. Racking my brain for someway to help, all I came up with were prayers for comfort and peace and healing. Helpless. I received another call this Monday, Mark was being discharged from the hospital on a stretcher to the family home. Again, the only thing I could offer from so far away were my prayers.

Yesterday morning I was greeted at my front gate by the crying wails of a mourning woman. The boys' auntie, Bee, had come to tell me Mark was dead. She clutched my neck and sobbed into my shoulder and I was taken back to the hospital 22 months ago when this same fragile woman clutched my neck and sobbed into my shoulder over Michael's dead body. Two boys dead. The hope of the family. Twins in life and now in death.

These are the why questions that were never meant to be answered. Why so much death in one small country? Why so much tragedy in one small family? Why two boys who hadn't yet reached twenty-one? Just, why?

I have only known this family in times of mourning, but I pray they can find joy again... somehow. I never even met Mark, but his death affects my life. I can only hope and pray that my prayers-- my God who answers prayers-- affected his life as well. 

My latest Liberian adventure...

Last week Ashley, Joseph (our driver), and I took our yearly trek (over 8 hours each way on super-bumpy dirt/mud roads) into the up-county bush of Liberia-- Sinoe County. Nestled in the deep green jungle, 200 miles away from the chaos of Monrovia, is a children’s home that ORR has been supporting since 2009. This was actually my third time visiting The Heart of God Children’s Refuge, which is so hard to get to we only make it there once a year. It is a small mission that is run by our long-time friends Pastor Wion and Mama Shirley Wleh. Their mission may be small now, but their vision is big.

Their long-term plan is to have a K-12th grade boarding school, fully functioning organic farm and guesthouse within the next few years. All these goals will go far to benefiting not only the vulnerable children, but everyone else in this rural community.

Sinoe County jungle view. The blue roof is for the new school.

The main project focus last week was starting to build their new school building, and it started off with a bang. The students took a holiday from book-learning to earn a life-lesson. They all reported to the school building that morning, but instead of sitting on wooden benches for class, they went to work making mud bricks which would become the foundation and walls of their new school building. It was hard work, but they were learning how to be responsible and take pride in their work. Their dedication to school will be deeper now that they have been a part of building it.

These boys seem to be enjoying their block-making lesson.

After a long day of building, the entire village gathered around the small grass-mat house to watch “The Jesus Film” in their local tribal language. I was glad I knew the story since I didn’t understand the words. It was fun watching the Liberians watch the show though, they were on the edge of their seats, often gasping or breaking into applause. Our short visit ended with a Christmas-in-March gift distribution to the children living on the mission. 

Merry Christmas! (in March... why not!?)

Mama Shirley took good care of us while we were there. I’ve never eaten so good in the bush-- hot, fresh, hand-made donuts for breakfast each morning, fresh potato greens, cassava leaf, palm butter and delicious pineapple straight from the farm. We even watched them slaughter the chicken that was in our soup (this was actually a first for me). We were not allowed to lift a finger the entire time, which actually made me feel like quite a slug since working to keep a home in the bush takes a lot of hard work. They even warmed up water for our bucket baths each evening.

Donuts! Cooked outside on a coalpot, the Liberian way.

Daily life in a small village definitely has a different flow. We woke up with the chickens at 0430 each morning, had to walk into the jungle with a shovel when it was time to relieve ourselves and slept on flat mattresses only a few inches above the dirt floor. It is a hard life, but there is something simple and beautiful about it as well.

I think the hardest thing for me to see was where they get their water. Their biggest need right now is definitely a new well to bring them clean water for drinking, cooking and bathing. Since the closest well to them has broken, they are forced to use a small dirty creek for their water needs. (We brought our own drinking water, since we had a vehicle, they drove to a close by village to get some water for us to bathe in.) There are a lot of logistical details that make it very difficult for a well to be dug so far in the bush. Please pray with me for my dear friends at the Heart of God Children’s Refuge mission-- that they will continue to have strength to do the work that God has called them to do and health despite such poor conditions. 

This three year old is helping to carry water up from the creek.

For more info on what ORR is doing follow this link to the website.

lessons from a crippled man

Yesterday started out rough. My computer crashed, I felt like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Honestly, I just kinda wanted to be in a bad mood.

As I was leaving the grocery store, an amputee who often meets me there, greeted me at the car. I knew what was coming-- the constant asking for something small, and I wasn't in the mood. So, when he greeted me with a cheery, 'How the day!?' I decided to be honest and forgo the usual answer of 'fine.' Instead I answered, 'I'm actually not having a very good day." He looked at me confused, so I tried again, 'It's not a good day.' The man gripped his crutches tighter, looked me in the eye and said, 'Yes, but you can still thank God for life. You have breath in your body." Then he proceeded to ask me for his small thing. I politely declined, got in my car and drove off more annoyed than I was before the interlude with the crippled man.

The thing was, he was right. As much as it may have been his rote answer, it was true. Frustrating things happen, computers crash, people fail you, your leg is amputated, but in the end those circumstances don't matter. God has blessed me with air in my lungs and another day to know Him better. He has blessed me with life and His love.

And yesterday he used a crippled man to remind me. Humbling indeed.

Liberia wins

Today Liberia won. That is something we often say when things don't quite go as planned (which is often.) Now, I know that things not going as planned can and does happen everywhere, it is part of life. It just seems like it happens more often here. Or maybe the reasons why things change makes it seem more surreal. This is a place where I daily see motorcycle drivers carrying three passengers, a 5 gallon container of diesel fuel, a 50 lb bag of rice, and a mattress-- all at the same time. Or we could play a game counting how many men we see peeing in a day. Government buildings don't always have electricity. You never know what you are going to get.

So back to today. This morning Cramer, Ashley and I headed for town to run some errands. We had eight stops on our list. Traffic can be terrible driving into Monrovia so we try and consolidate trips. Of the eight stops two were successful. TWO out of eight! The person we were supposed to meet with was not in the office (oh yea, I had a funeral today.) The bike was already sold. The registration papers for our vehicles are still not done (it has been over two weeks now). Someone else, not there. You get the idea. Lunch didn't even work out as I had hoped, the place I wanted to go was closed (on Friday?). At a certain point you wonder why you even left the house? Slightly discouraged, but with full stomachs nonetheless we headed back to our office.

We always go to a certain orphanage on Friday afternoons. It is a favorite of ours where we love to sit under the mango tree and enjoy the breeze and the children. As we are loading up the pick-up to go we have an unscheduled visitor-- a friend with a sick child. Quick assessment and referral to the clinic and then we are off. A little late, but hey, this is Liberia. We stop to buy rice. No rice. Well, not the kind we wanted, we are forced to buy a  more expensive type. As we are trying to pull out, a huge truck (filled with rice I might add) drives up next to us and threatens to topple over on top of us. We get out just in time, headed for the orphanage again. 

As we are driving down the street dodging motorbikes, pedestrians and chickens we see a sign that the road is closed. It is completely blocked off, paving is being done. So we turn around to try another route. Traffic is at a stand-still, not looking good. After an eight-point turn to get back out of the traffic jam and almost overturning a woman's grilled meat stand we are back on the road trying for our third and final option to get there. Things are looking pretty good until we hit construction. Again. The same road construction is blocking the road from two directions and where we need to be is smack-dab in the middle. We come to a stop as six Liberian men are yelling at us to turn around. At this point we were getting pretty frustrated, the kids were expecting us, we'd been trying to get to the orphanage for over an hour (usually takes seven minutes), it had been a long day. So, when I saw other trucks and motorbikes on the road we (the white people) couldn't use, I 'exchanged some words' with the men on the street-- to no avail, we still had to turn around. Argh!

Back at the office we decided we were not going to let Liberia stop us today. Something was going to go right! So, we decided to walk to the orphanage. I could not carry the 100 lb bag of rice, so that will have to be delivered another day, but we repacked our things, changed into shorts and started the 40 minute walk back to the orphanage. Believe it or not we made it! A good thing too because all our kiddos were waiting for us with their drums and other instruments ready to go. 

We were two hours late, but we were there. We danced and sang and limboed and played games and took silly pictures and laughed and sat under the mango tree and enjoyed the breeze and the children. And a few hours later we walked back home with the cool evening sea breeze at our face. And at home Ma Mary's rice was waiting for us so we sat and watched the sun set on the front porch while we ate our dinner. And despite everything, it really was a good day. I guess Liberia did win after all.