They Call Me Bekah Jonah

They call me Bekah Jonah.

On Monday, the girls gave me an African platt, meaning they braided my whole head into small, fine braids. They got the biggest kick out of it! Everyone I saw for the rest of the day laughed and laughed, saying, “Sis Bekah, your hair looks very fine!” I promised the girls I would leave it in as long as I could (they can leave their in for weeks. Unfortunately, my hair is too soft so some of it was already falling out by the morning).

The next day, I decided to fully embrace my new African self and wear my lapper (African cloth worn as a skirt) in addition to my hair being platted.

So the first thing I did the next morning was go find Mama Betty. I greeted her in her native dialect (mano) and our conversation went something like this:

Me - “Ba-voo-oh” (Hello)

Mama Betty - “mmh-ba-voo-oh” (yeah, hello)

Me - “Como-ee-pee-aye?” (How are you?)

Mama Betty - “mmh-pee-a-la-say” (I am fine)

And then her eyes light up as the biggest grin stretches across her face. She finally notices my hair/lapper. Then she bursts out into her joyous laughter, speaking faster than I can understand. It must have been funny though because all the kids started laughing. Then she says, “My daughter! My white, African daughter!” and I hear somebody else scream, “Bekah Jonah!” and the laughter roars again.

So now, I am greeted from everyone at the orphanage with a “good morning, Sis Bekah Jonah” or a “How are you, Sis Bekah Jonah?” They think it’s hilarious, but honestly, they couldn’t compliment me in a bigger way!

I have met very few women in my lifetime as in love with the Lord as Mama Betty. She is the definition of joy and if she was filled anymore with the Holy Spirit, I’m sure she would burst! If anyone would just take an hour to watch this woman work, I don’t think they would believe she is as old as she is. She hobbles around the BJO and Camp 4 as fast as I can and cooks some of the best food I’ve had in Liberia (handling a bigger knife than I’ve ever held and more freshly killed and uncooked meat than I would ever like to see much less touch). And she keeps even the most troublesome kids at the orphanage in line.

Today I sat down with Mama for a few minutes and she leans over to me, leaning her head against mine, and quietly laughs her pure laughter and says something about “her new daughter.” All I can say is that I’m honored that this woman looks upon me so fondly. I’m honored to be called her daughter. If I can live my life with half as much love for the Lord, be half as filled with the Holy Spirit, or serve half as many people as she has, I will be beyond blessed.

I think my heart smiles a little more every time I hear voices ring, “Sis Bekah Jonah.” I’m not sure if there is a way they could compliment me any more.  

I mean, can't you see the resemblance?!