Sylvester's story

Abandoned by his mother, beaten by many in his community, left to fend for himself in the garbage piles-- this is Sylvester’s story. Sadly, it is a story we’ve heard many times before, but it never becomes less tragic.

Sylvester is maybe seven years old; no one knows for sure. He is very small and possibly autistic. The popular Liberian belief is that he is ‘not correct in his mind,’ and thus less than human, not worth caring for, feeding or loving. Thankfully, there are some who don’t share that opinion. When Salome, one of the orphanage directors we work with, found him and saw no one else would stand for him, she did. She scrounged the community looking for his family and instead only found a frightening story about abuse, neglect and abandonment.

“I couldn’t just leave him there,” she said, telling me his story. “I had to do something.”

Sylvester has been rescued. He is finding relief under Salome’s care. Thanks to the support we are able to give Salome’s orphanage, through donations from our child sponsors and other partners, Sylvester now has another chance at life.

Good news about Gifty!

Gifty was all laughter and smiles yesterday as I took her back for a check-up with the doctor, where she received a clear bill of health! She has gained 5 pounds and has no more symptoms. The doctor is very happy with her progress and while we will be keeping a close watch on her, for now she needs no more treatment. Now she can just focus on school and jumping rope. What a miracle!

Anita and Gifty

I just returned to Liberia a few weeks ago, anxious to see and hug all my kiddos. 

Over all,they are looking well-- healthy and happy.

There were two girls that I was especially concerned about and couldn’t wait to check in on them-- 

ANITA

Anita in August

Anita was dangerously thin and malnourished after accidentally ingesting water with lye residue in it, left over from making soap (which unfortunately is very common here in Liberia). She had lost 10 pounds, was lethargic and couldn’t eat or drink. She was wasting away. When I left Liberia in August I was very concerned for her, if she couldn’t eat, she wouldn’t survive. I took her to a local doctor, but there was nothing they could do. We just needed to pray and encourage her to eat and drink, even though it was extremely painful.

I am happy to report that when I saw Anita this week she is back to her healthy self. Dancing and playing with the other kids in her orphanage. She says she doesn’t have any more pain. Even better—she has her chubby cheeks and smile back!

Anita now.

GIFTY

Gifty

I first told you about Gifty about six months ago. She had just been diagnosed with pneumonia, malaria AND tuberculosis (TB). She was too thin, weak and sick to play with the other kids in her orphanage. She quickly recovered from the pneumonia and malaria, but bouncing back from TB is not as easy. 

The last six months have been an up and down battle for her. She will gain a few pounds and some strength just to lose them again. Managing her TB medications has been complicated and the medication is very harsh on her little body. Treating TB is long and difficult even under the best circumstances. Gifty has been a trooper, but her fight isn’t over. Please continue to pray for her body to heal, for her to get back her strength and more importantly, for her to put on some weight.

Progress report: Trokon

Trokon is a spectacular young man. Orphaned as a very little boy, he used to scrounge in the garbage piles to find food so he wouldn’t starve to death. He was rescued by a woman who found him in the dump and took him into her home as one of her own. Years later this woman, having taken in many more orphaned and abandoned children found herself mothering an orphanage home with more than 40 children. Trokon, a natural leader, took the younger children under his wing.

Helping others is not a passing phase for Trokon. He has always talked about wanting to go to college (which is a rare luxury in Liberia) so he can come back more prepared to help the people of his beloved country. It was his own motivation, compassion and hard work that made me and my co-workers want to give him a better chance at reaching those dreams.

After some homework of our own, we identified a school that seemed to be a good fit for Trokon and his dreams. The entrance requirements were a stretch and Trokon struggled a bit with the placement test, but even the principal of this new school identified the potential in Trokon and admitted him to the school with tears in her eyes.

Trokon started this new chapter of his life last August. A country boy in a new, strange boarding school far from the only home and family he has known with higher educational standards and different rules had us all worried about how he would adjust to his new surroundings.

Last week I was finally able to visit Trokon at school. Two months in to his first semester—it was report card time. Although Trokon definitely has room to improve, I am very proud of his achievements so far. He is in the 70^th percentage of the 9^th grade class (which means he is doing better than 70% of the other kids in his grade). He is excelling in most of his classes and getting raving reviews for his attitude and conduct from both the principal and his peers. He is healthy and has probably grown at least two inches in the two months since I’ve seen him. Best of all he has this new confidence, he just radiates joy.

Trokon will be getting some extra tutoring in the few classes he is struggling with. He is determined to do well and continue working hard towards his goal. He loves knowing that he has friends all over the world praying for him and cheering him on.

Trokon’s new school is quite expensive. Orphan Relief and Rescue would like to continue to support him there throughout his high school career. If you would like to donate towards Trokon’s schooling or help with other ORR programs please visit the website www.orphanreliefandrescue.org and donate today.

I can't find the words to sum up this post so you'll just have to read it. :-)

It was the longest trip ever, but I made it. I’m back safe and sound, if not exhausted, at my home in Liberia. I left Seattle at 11pm Tuesday night and reached the airport here in Monrovia at 4pm Friday afternoon. That is 56 hours, 26+ hours more than usual. Let me break it down for you…

The first snafu was my fault. Apparently my jumbled brain did not notice the super-sized layover scheduled in the itinerary. I bought it, then saw it-- 13 hours at JFK, oops. So, after the 5 hour flight from Seattle, where I spent the entire flight awkwardly trying to ignore the couple making out next to me, I arrived at JFK at 7am. Exhausted.  I dabbled with the idea of seeing NYC; never been there, always wanted to. Ultimately I decided a trip into the city was a bit out of my budget this time around, so I sat and walked, sat and walked, sat and walked and observed New York’s finest airport.

Some of my observations from spending the day at JFK-

-An elderly Indian woman, not even 5’ tall, washing her feet in the bathroom sink. Both impressive and disgusting.

-Birds everywhere. Like we are talking Alfred Hitchcock birds. Maybe if people would stop letting their kids feed them the French fries from Burger King they’d find somewhere else to go?

-Pretty sure I heard every other language in the world spoken. And watched an interesting animation from the TSA guy to the non-English speaking guy in front of me on how to go through the security check point.

-Speaking of TSA guys—also watched an almost fist fight between one and a passenger. Hmmm… who’s gonna win that fight?

-Learned a lot about the latest fashion: Leopard print leggings under short-shorts with a hoodie and furry boots?

-People will spend $12 for one glass of wine! (not me) and $6 on a latte (me).

After one of the longest days ever and still no sleep, the time for boarding the plane finally came. I was, of course, seated in the middle between two (as it turns out very nice) West African men. About three hours into the flight; after dinner had been served, the elderly man on my left was asleep on my shoulder, and I’d just taken a Benadryl to help me sleep through the rest of the 10 hour flight-- the Captain comes on the overhead speaker to make an announcement. The airplane has turned around, we are returning to JKF. Satellite communication problems, can’t land in Africa. WHAT!?!

Three hours back and we land at 0230 in the morning. Still haven’t really slept and in a Benadryl induced fog I stumble through the airport, ticket counter, taxi, hotel… finally a bed at 0500. And here is the best part of the entire journey—I slept! Six lovely, fantastic hours in a hotel cloud-bed.

The next afternoon I was able to meet up with my friend Keith (who was supposed to be on my flight and missed his connection, lucky guy). The day passed more quickly with a friend and before I knew it we were ready to try this ‘fly to Africa’ thing again. And made it. Ten hours across the Atlantic to Accra, Ghana where we had to wait for a few hours to finish the flight to Monrovia. But, this is not where the adventure ends.

I actually flew through immigration, and mistakenly thought, “Wow that was easy.” But, I had forgotten the contact sport known as ‘getting your luggage at the airport in Liberia.’ Picture 200+ people jammed in a room with hundreds more pieces of luggage. A mountain of refugee bags piled in the corner. The conveyer belt so overloaded suitcases are falling off, knocking people over. Imagine the sweat, the smell, the noise and you are still not even close to picturing the true impact of it all. Keith and I tag-teamed it. Yes, like wrestlers, high-five and you’re in to take your turn in the fight. I got knocked over by a burly guy and his bag and a woman’s high heel about pierced my foot, but we finally found all our bags and escaped the ruckus. Phew!

Back home several friends were waiting for me. I greeted everyone, unpacked a little, found some dinner and then fell into bed, where I slept a glorious 14 hours! Feeling a little more alive, yet still somewhat in a jet-lag coma I am getting ready to get to work. Good thing, tomorrow is Monday.

Lets do this thing.

In 11 days I'll be getting back on  a plane again and making that 30+ journey back to Liberia...

Back to smokey, thick air, outdoor showers, lots and lots of rice, hugs and tugs, small, dark children, huge smiles, huge bellies, fevers, dancing, drumming, singing, loving, learning, growing... home.

I've felt more at home this time around in America. I've loved every destination, each moment with friends and family, each home-cooked meal. I've discovered the life-changing self-serve frozen yogurt shoppe trend and, as of this morning, the bacon maple bar (what!?).

But still, Liberia calls me back for more.

Truth be told, this may be my last long-term stint in Africa for awhile. Transition is in the air. There are a lot of unknowns for me in the upcoming months, which should be overwhelming. However, there is peace when one find themselves right in the middle of where God wants them, and that is where I must be right now, because even though I don't know how I'm going to pay my mortgage (among other things) for the next several months I do know that God is in control. He is inviting me to live with Him more boldly, uninhibitedly. To dance with Him, gaze at Him, to just be [with Him]. (And it is fantastic.)

As always, I appreciate your prayers, your words of encouragement, your support of every kind. I could not survive without you. As I prepare to go back, I'd like to invite you to continue to journey with me. God is doing beautiful things, not only in the lives of the vulnerable, needy, oppressed children in Liberia, but in my life, and, if you allow it, in yours as well.

Lets do this thing.

I'm back

It's been three months since I have posted a blog. Three months! A lot has happened in those months. My silence was mostly due to some, ehemm... technical difficulties (which included a computer and a bucket of water. note to self-- computers can not swim) as well as laziness on my part. Where do you start again to get caught up after all that time has past? I've been thinking about needing to post something again, even just to update people on where I am in the world (here's a hint-- I've been going to Target a lot!). Then I received this text from a friend which reminded me of the importance of what I do here.

"I was looking at your blog today and thinking how beautiful Africa is and how very real. Real people, with real needs. I am so glad you are my friend because you are so amazing... but also to bring perspective back to my view. Sometimes I need to be reminded there are those who have so much less than I do and yet are happy to worship God dancing in a muddy dirt street and more free than most sitting in a church singing a hymn they don't really understand. God is so very close and real where he is needed most. thanks for being His hands and feet. " (Thank you dear, sweet Nora.)

It's so much more than me, and I have the honor of using this space to communicate what God is doing in the 'real' world. So, here is my first step back towards sharing beautiful Africa, and the 'real'-ness of my life in Liberia. It is not mine, it is His. It is ours.

This was taken in August,  just before I left Liberia for some R&R in the states.
Some precious, goofy time with amazing girls.