A Girl's Day and God's Workings

This past Saturday was my favorite day by far since we’ve gotten to Africa. I know I’ve had a lot of wonderful days, and I’m sure I will have quite a few more, but this day was special. The twelve oldest girls (ages 11-22) at the orphanage and I had a girls day at my house at ABC! Finally, a break from the boys! 

When I arrived at the orphanage Saturday morning, almost all the girls were dressed up in their finest clothes. Some in dresses (both African and “American”), some in skirts and blouses. Some were wearing their finest slippers (what we would call flip-flops) while a few were wearing pink water moccasins. Two of the girls were even wearing pink winter gloves (in the 90 degree heat I might add). All had newly “platted” (braided) hair.

So we set off to walk from the orphanage back to ABC. This was promised to take us about an hour, but after a quick stop in the P market to get cooking supplies, we arrived at ABC… 2 hours later… So we got right to cooking our lunch. The girls asked for “American food,” so naturally, I fixed spaghetti haha. It was either that or PB&J – the only two foods I’ve seen in the area I’m familiar with. But needless to say the girls LOVED it. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen girls eat as much spaghetti as they did. I was stuffed after shoveling in about 1/3 of the servings they had… and they all went back for seconds. It really makes me wonder when was the last time they ate outside of the orphanage.

After lunch I popped Tangled into my laptop, which completely captivated them as they all huddled around it. I wish everyone could have seen the smiles when I brought out fresh funfetti cake too! Of course, there was no frosting, but when I apologized for having none they all looked at me strangely. I guess they don’t really have frosting for their cakes here. Cake is a big enough treat! The little things we take for granted... I probably wouldn’t even touch cake unless it had frosting on it in the States.

The last thing we did before heading back to the orphanage was nail painting. Many of them did their own, but I had the chance to paint a few of their toes and fingers – and I loved every dirty, uncut nail I painted. I don’t think any of these girls get loved on nearly enough. I wonder if anyone even tells them how truly beautiful they really are.

It was a fantastic day with the girls. And as we rode back to the orphanage (praise the Lord someone at ABC gave us a ride in the bus!) and the girls sang songs about our God at the top of their lungs (I’m still surprised the windows didn’t shatter), I reflected a little bit on the day. From my perspective, the day was pretty normal. Some girls came over, we had some food, a little dessert, watched a movie I’ve seen a thousand times, and painted nails – all things I do almost on a daily basis back home. But today, I taught girls not much younger than I am how to flush a toilet, adjust the heat on a stove, use a hand-held can opener, and turn a sink on and off, and I’m reminded of all the things I have that I consider “needs” that most around the world hardly know exist… I consider myself as having done pretty well “adapting to my situations” since I’ve been here – no phones, cold showers, limited power, strange food, etc. But why is it that I’m still living like a queen when just a few miles down the road my sisters are sleeping with thin sheets (if any), no pillows, hardly what you can call blankets, and worn-down mattresses. Some don’t even have a bed to themselves. There is no toilet paper, no sinks, and nothing but a bucket for a shower. They have no electricity, no paint on their bedroom walls, and not even shutters to keep the rain out. They eat one meal a day, share their clothes, and go without even the simplest things like pens and paper. And I keep thinking of the verse that talks about seeing your brother, or sister, in need and if you do nothing you have done it to Jesus Himself. Would I let Jesus live like this and return to my comfortable home each day without a second thought? Would I continue to justify it as being “just the way things are?” Or would I fight a little harder to try and change things? I think I know the answer to my questions, but I’m ashamed to say that I still sit here in my massive, comfortable bed, crippled by both the fear of not knowing what to do and losing just a little too much comfort…

I’m troubled because I have no solutions and barely any words except the ones my spirit keeps begging the Lord - please, show us the way.

For those of you who have been keeping up with the roof situation, I have two very cool stories to share.

The first is that we found out on Saturday morning at 5 am, Mama Betty and the other women in their church danced throughout the streets of town in Camp 4 – literally. They danced and sang to God for hours, thanking Him for what He has done and is doing with their church and the roof. And as they went throughout the town, they witnessed to others, proclaiming God’s goodness, faithfulness, and provision. How amazing that something as simple as a roof provided them the opportunity to serve the Lord with such fervor and joy!

The second has to do with something I have held back writing about. Much of it revolves around the roof and money. I haven’t really wanted to share about this particular situation because I wanted to keep everything positive and also because it’s still a touchy subject for me, Tim, and Shane. But it plays a pretty cool part in the story and just goes to show how what Satan tries to use to destroy and discourage, God can still use as a part of His plan.

The boys had 4 Liberian men helping them put on the roof – a man named Paye, two of his friends, and a man from the local community who sometimes attends Redeemer Baptist Church. Now we were warned when we came to Liberia than people here think white men have money growing on trees, almost literally. But when it came time to talk money the men who were helping the boys put on the roof, there was a lot of shady business going on and some of the men tried to take advantage of Tim and Shane. I know almost everyone here is desperate, but it was hard to see money we brought to bless the orphanage with being taken from them. Long story short, things got heated, but despite knowing we were being taken advantage of, the boys way overpaid the men. For us, it was very discouraging and frustrating seeing money that supporters donated for us to use on projects for the kids go to men who were greedy and played the system to their advantage. But when we paid them, Shane made it very clear that they all must come to church on Sunday to make up for what they did to not only us and the orphans, but ultimately the Lord.

None of us expected them to come.

But Sunday morning rolled around and we see Pay, “Sasquatch”, and “Little-Man” (as we call them), lurking in the shadows of one of the school buildings. Tim and Shane excitedly greeted them and a few minutes later, we all filed into church. All three of us were shocked, yet very excited, to see them there.

But here’s the super cool part of the story: Okay so in the African churches, they make a big deal about giving money – but not to glorify one’s self, rather to praise God for Him giving you the ability to give and to thank Him for what He is speaking to you at that moment. So throughout praise and worship, members frequently dance their way up to the front of the church and drop money in the offering box. On Sunday, all three of the men came up at least once during the service to put money in the offering – and two of them came up twice! So not only did they get to hear the Gospel (literally, since that was what the message was on that morning), but they gave part of the money they earned straight back to the church/orphans! Obviously we don’t know how much they gave, but we don’t have to. It was just amazing to see the way the Lord can work on people’s hearts to change and soften them enough to give back to Him what was always His in the first place!

Victor, or "Lefty" as they call him, "Little Man", Paye, and "Sasquatch" after church!

We were presented African suits to wear for church. Tim and mine match because we are siblings. 

In the late afternoon, Shane and I took a walk to the border of Liberia and Guinea where there used to be a really nice resort before the war. After the two mile walk, we discovered some overgrown, but completely awesome tennis courts nestled right up on the top of a hill overlooking some of Yekepa. A little ways away sits an old, drained Olympic size swimming pool – definitely the biggest I’ve ever seen! It’s amazing to me that somewhere that used to be so ritzy (apparently it was one of the nicest places in all of Liberia before the war), is now so run-down and destroyed. Proof that nothing lasts forever and not even richest or status can keep someone, or in this case somewhere, safe.

But anyway, right next to the pool stands a one-hundred-and-four-foot water tower. We were told we could “take the stairs up to the top” and there would be a beautiful view! So we planned to climb it and see for ourselves! However, someone failed to mention that “stairs” actually meant old, rusted ladder… Now, besides bugs and creepy, crawly creatures, not a lot scares me. But this scared me. 104 feet is a long way up, but an even longer way down should that old ladder decide it doesn’t want to hold up weight any longer! I highly considered backing out, but I knew Shane was really looking forward to this, we walked all this way, and after all, this IS Africa. So I took a minute to have my freak out while still on the ground, inhaled a deep breath, and started climbing one rung at a time. Now, this was definitely, without exaggeration, the scariest thing I have ever done. I fought panic the whole way up, but the view from the top was breathtaking. Here’s a few pictures because words just don’t do it justice! Oh and I think I climbed down 3 times a fast as we climbed up… the top was great, but I was definitely grateful to be back on the ground again. :) 

Yep, we climbed that!

First time in an Olympic size swimming pool. 

The view from the top of the tower

Also from the top of the tower. That's Guinea 

Psalm 23

I only have two things to write about from today.

The first. I saw a boy at the orphanage licking the inside of a cookie wrapper he found today. If this didn’t shock me enough, I saw him 10 minutes later with a stick stuck through the same cookie wrapper and attached to a string – his toy kite. He proudly ran back and forth in front of Ma’s house trying to make it take flight. I’m at a loss for words on what to say. I think the story speaks for itself.

Second, the Bible study I’m leading with the girls was a little overwhelming at first but is now going great! I’ll expand more on it later but I wanted to share what we did in today’s meeting.

We went over the 23 Psalm – one they can all say by heart. But today, we went over it verse by verse and talked about what each one meant. We finished by having each of them pick a couple of their favorite verses and rewriting it in their own words. Here’s a rough compilation of what the girl’s and I came up with (I tried to go verse by verse as best I could!)

God is my Protector, my Provider, My Refuge, and My Strength.

He generously gives to me what I need.

He knows what is best for me and He Himself leads me to it.

He renews my strength, making me whole again and restoring my joy. He fills me when there is nothing left in me.

Everything He does for me is for His glory, so I should follow Him and glorify His name.

When I am in danger and fear surrounds me, He is still with me. I can move in the darkness with no fear because His presence is closer to me than the darkness. I can trust His sovereign hand because He will do for me what is best and bring the most glory to His name.

Though evil is near, He will prepare blessings for me.

My enemies will see Him setting my table and can do nothing. They will know He is for me and He will show them He is God.

He will give me so much I will have enough to bless others so they can also praise His name.

His promise to me is that goodness and mercy will be with me forever and if I remain in His presence, He will do all these things again and again.

Hope this blessed you like it blessed me! The students definitely teaching the “teacher.” I love these girls and their hearts so much already!

Here's a few pictures from the past few days as well.

A few boys from town

This is Victor. He lost one arm in the war, but works harder and better than any two-armed man! He wore the same shirt every day that had a whole in it so Tim gave him one if his.

"Alumni" soccer game at  the Randy Godfrey School in Camp 4. Though many of them are teenagers and oler, none of them care those pennies and shorts are for youths!

My dear friend, Pauline. 

Independence Day

Today I had one of those “what did I get myself into” moments.

Soon after we got to the orphanage this morning, Mama Betty sent the girls off to cut firewood for the kitchen – women’s work in Liberia. I figured they’d just walk along the side of the road and chop off some branches here and there and then we’d be back. So I asked to go with them. I should have known something was up when they handed me a “lapper” (a long, African cloth made into a skirt) and a long sleeve jacket. So about 10 of the girls and I, with machetes in hand, start walking down the road towards a nearby mountain. About 15 minutes later, the girls stop, look at me, say, “let’s pass,” and start pushing their way through some bushes nearby. As I follow, I quickly realize that we aren’t going down a nicely cut path through the jungle to find firewood. The girls in front are pretty much cutting their own way with the machetes. When I prayed for the Holy Spirit to lead me where I could ever go on my own, this is not what I had in mind! The girls laugh at me as I start gingerly walking through the forest, making sure not to step on any hidden snakes or get attacked by preying spiders. But seriously people, we’re in African jungles, what else do you expect!? Anyway, after a good 10 minute walk into the forest, we stop at a tree and the girls look at me, say “Sis Bekah, wait here” and then scatter in 10 different directions, leaving me in the middle of who knows where with not even a machete or a big stick to protect myself if some man-eating creature attacks me! After a good thirty minutes of waiting by this tree, too afraid to sit down or touch anything, and wondering if they had forgotten about me, finally one of the girls (Josephine) returns for me. She’s carrying an arm-full of big sticks and proceeds to take off her lapper (she has a skirt on underneath) and uses it to tie up the big bundle of sticks. Then, she puts the whole 40 lb bundle on her head, balances it (with no hands I might add), and walks back the way we came in without hesitation. I am embarrassed to say that I was the only one walking out of that forest without a bundle of sticks on my head (even the 5 year old had a smaller bundle) and the only one who fell walking down the muddy, slippery slope. I am definitely American.

I would end this story by saying, “at least I didn’t get bitten by some crazy African spider,” but the hard, red, egg-sized bump on my leg is telling me otherwise. But hey, at least I didn’t see it bite me… right?

My beautiful Josephine!

I got bored waiting so I carved my name in a tree

A few of the girls

Do I look African Yet!?

Today was also great because it was “America’s independence day.” To Liberians, their own Independence Day is a big deal, almost like Christmas, so we were prepared a small feast for lunch at the orphanage! Rice, bitter ball soup with pork, foo-foo (a form of Jebee), pineapple, and sugar cane! Almost every child at the orphanage came up to us at some point in the day and wished us a “happy America’s independence day). What made the day even greater was we (Tim, Shane, Charlie, and I) celebrated not with fireworks, but with Pancakes! Shane and I made pancakes with bananas, cinnamon, honey, and peanut butter for dinner!

However, the absolute best part of my day was when Shane and I accidentally stumbled across the ice cream cart! Besides being with the kids, I don’t think I’ve been so happy since we got to Africa! So Shane bought me this little cup for 50 Liberian Dollars (about 65 cents in America). This picture definitely doesn’t do justice of the smile I had on my face the whole time I ate it! Definitely a simple pleasure and a blessing from the Lord today. Needless to say I went to bed one happy girl!

This is Africa (Rain, Rain, Go Away)

This is Africa.

It’s a place where food is scarce, but fulfillment is abundant.

It’s a place where sickness is rampant, but healing still wins.

It’s a place where money is almost impossible to find, but I see riches in the face of every orphaned child I see.

In Africa, girls play with dead dragonflies like they are dolls.

In Africa, little boys with big, round bellies (that have nothing to do with being fat) chase each other tirelessly – stopping only to pick up their button-less shorts from around their ankles.

In Africa, the best part of a little girl’s day is when she gets to eat the fish head leftover from cooking dinner… eyes, bones, scales, and all.

In Africa, it’s the norm to play kickball barefoot. The privileged few wear one shoe – because one is always better than none.

In Africa, when mom is sick with malaria, seven-year-old girls stay home from school to watch their baby brothers.

In Africa, kindergarteners carry around razor blades in their pockets as scissors, play hopscotch with shards of glass, and carry around machetes like they are toy swords.

In Africa, 15 orphan girls pile on the bottom of two bunk beds, sharing what little rice they have, and telling stories until they collapse with laughter.

And in Africa, kids who were born during the civil war recount the killing of their own family with about as much emotion as you would read in a history book… but end the story smiling and saying, “but thanks to God, there is hope.”

It’s a place where if I pick up a crying toddler who was run over by the older kids, sit her on my knee, and give her a band aid for her bleeding leg, she doesn’t leave my side for the rest of the day. Because for one moment, someone saw her. And for that moment, it didn’t matter that her leg was bleeding or that her clothes were falling apart because as I held her, she knew she was being taken care of. Somehow I’m reminded of Christ and how when we are hurt the world still bustles around us, but He hears our small cries in the midst of all that chaos. He walks over to us, as if we are the only one He sees, and He quietly sits us on His lap, healing all our wounds. I wish I could say I was as faithful to never leave His side as Jamanas is with me.

You see, Africa is a place where people pray, knowing their prayers cannot be answered by anyone else except the Lord. A few days ago, a pastor stood in front of his church, praising God for three young Americans who came to Africa, not knowing exactly why they came. Yet God knew He wanted to use them to answer the faithful prayers of a church in the remnants of an African war zone.

As this shaking old man stands in front of this church, he begs for continued prayers from the members, but this time it is for the rain to hold off – a seemingly impossible request as the it pours down at that very moment into the church that Sunday morning. But his words still ring clear. “I know that God has sent them to do this, so I know that God will stop the rain as well.” Such assurance. Such faith. My finite and doubting mind tells myself, “I sure hope he’s right.” That night, it rains and pours – much harder than usual. I wake up 6, 7, 8 times, and immediately start praying, “God, let it all pour now, but please, make it stop so the boys can work” When I wake up in the morning, my heart sinks because it is still raining… heavily. Shane comes into my room with a discouraged look on his face. We are all a little dismayed.

But soon, we are off for the orphanage on our “ping-pings” (motorbikes). It is still raining, yet it is beginning to let up. But I know the question on all of our mind’s asks, “Is it really going to stop?” The boys begin carrying the new roofing zinc from the orphanage to the church. And it’s still sprinkling. They grab the ladder next. And the rain is still coming. Then the wood and the nails. The rain continues to fall. And just as they begin to climb up the ladder and onto the roof, the rain completely stops. Everyone starts to look around. “Can this be for real? Surely it will start raining again soon.” But then Mama Betty starts dancing and singing in her native language “Jesus can do it easy. When you pray to Jesus, He can do it all easy” and she laughs as if she knew it all along. She did. We all should have known. It reminds me of all those Bible stories where people pray for rain in a drought and God answers. Yet somehow when we hear those stories in the Bible we assume that God sent them some super natural sign that it was His doing – in addition to the weather of course. Because the rain stopping at just the right time for the boys to start the roof was just chance… right? Ha!

So the rain stops for the rest of the day and again for the next day. The end of day 2 on the roof comes around and it is already 2/3 of the way finished. As the boys climb the latter again and finish hammering in that very last nail for the day, the rain starts to fall. And not a moment too soon.

All night the rain pours, the thunder booms, and the lightening flashes. I lay in my bed wide-awake for hours, mostly out of fear, but praying every moment. “Let it stop by the morning… let it stop by the morning.” Sometime I fall asleep and wake up to the sun shining through my window. Again, He has answered our prayers. Later in the afternoon I meet with the girls for our Bible study and we hit on “presenting your requests to God” (Phil 4:4-7) and the rain starts to fall again. I start to question why God has allowed it to rain while the boys are roofing, but we stop and pray. By the end of the prayer the rain is stopped and I get the feeling someone in there needed to see God’s goodness and the power of prayer. Maybe it was me.

As the end of the day rolls around and I walk towards the church to see the project. Thunder booms through the sky. Joanna, whom I affectionately call “my African sister,” looks at me and says in her Liberian English, “Sis Bekah, rain is coming.” We stand at the base of the church and the mountains begin to disappear behind the heavy rain as the final sheets are being lifted to the rooftop. Everyone murmurs doubts of finishing in time before the storm hits, but a bright, full rainbow appears between the church and the approaching rain. As the last of the nails are being hammered into the roof, the rain starts to pour down and everyone runs inside the church to take cover.  I am smiling from ear to ear because I know the rainbow was a reminder of God’s promise to us – that He would hold the weather off while the roof was being fixed. He did so too perfectly. I think back to the first day and how it rained until the time the work began. And now, the very minute the roof is finished, the sky pours down rain again.

So you see, this is Africa. Where most people would look around and say it’s is a place God has forsaken, but those who live here are assured that God has not forgotten them. It is here where the Spirit of God moves freely because He is begged to do so and the people cry out to Him with greater hunger pains that the ones screaming in their stomachs. And though everywhere people are dying of starvation, thirst, and preventable diseases, God is here and He’s making it known.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday!

1. Sorry for the lack of witty title to this post.

2. This will be long

3. I fixed the comment section so any of you can now comment even if you don't have an account! 

Enjoy!

Thursday morning Tim and I went to the orphanage while Shane headed off to Monrovia to get supplies for the roof (this would end up being a 5 day trip for him). After giving the “mom” speech to Shane and saying goodbye to him, Tim and I started out the day with painting some of the orphanage buildings that needed to be finished. I also had the privilege of grading reading exams for some of the school kids. It meant I got to listen to them read me a few pages from their books and grade them on their pronunciation of words, length or pauses, etc. It was a little nerve-wracking at first but it reminded me of how sometimes I think because I don’t have a special skill like a nurse, a construction builder, an electrician, etc., that I have nothing to offer people. But I know how to read and can help others learn to do the same.

When Tim, Charlie (another young man who is visiting the orphanage for a few weeks), and I met up for lunch we found out great news! Not only did Shane not have to go all the way to Monrovia for roofing supplies because he found everything we needed in Ghanta (a 2.5 hour drive from Yekepa), but he also found it cheaper than we expected! This was such an answered prayer because we now have more money to use in other areas, the boys can start the roofing process earlier, and Shane didn’t have to leave for a few days. Once again, I am continually blown away by how the Lord is working!

Tim worked on small projects around the orphanage and school for the rest of the day while I hung out and played games with the kids. You should’ve seen their faces when I pulled out my ipod and portable speakers! You would have thought it was gold to them! The older girls will huddle around on one bunk bed, watching music videos on it over and over again. The younger kids just love to dance to it. It’s hilarious because they imitate every lame dance move I do, thinking it is some kind of popular American dance. Multiple times kids have complemented me on my “good dancing.” I told them my friends in the states would get a kick out of that!

Today I also ate snake! Moses, one of the boys, proudly waltzed up to me holding something long, black, and skinny. With a smile stretching from ear to ear, he held it out to me and said in his Liberian English, “Sis Bekah, snake! Eat, it’s sweet!” After glancing an “is it safe?” look at Charlie and knowing I couldn’t refuse, I broke off a piece and started chewing… It wasn’t too bad. I can’t really explain my feeling of gratefulness even though it wasn’t exactly something I wanted or would eat again if I had a choice. There’s just something special about a person who has next to nothing sharing what they do have. I’m starting to understand a little better how God would rather have the widow’s two pennies than the rich man’s excess. I didn’t need or necessarily want what Moses cheerfully brought to me, but both of us walked away blessed. Oh, and about ten minutes later, this same Moses (who is 13 but the size on an 8-year-old), climbed a 30-foot coconut tree – twice – to get us some fresh coconut… with nothing but his hands and feet. Tim and I stood at the bottom with our hands out ready to catch him, being positive he would fall. All the other kids laughed at us. Apparently it’s an everyday thing for them. I’m still shaking my head at that one!

Here’s a couple other random cool stories from today:

-       The girls have now taken it upon themselves to teach me Mano – the native African language for this area. Boy, do they get a kick out of me saying whatever it is I’m saying in my white, American accent!

-       A little boy caught a lizard, tied a string around it, killed in, and then played with it for an hour before someone roasted it up and ate it.

-       I found out that here, suckers are called, “African stick-and-licks.”

-       Shane took a taxi back from Ghanta and the taxi car literally caught on fire. Then, after waiting for an hour on the rode by himself the car was fixed and they were on their way back to Yekepa. However, he didn’t make it too far before he got stopped at the county line and was interrogated by immigration. He didn’t have his passport (of course). Luckily he made it back to us in one piece, but it’s safe to say he had the most exciting day out of the three of us! If you would like to read the story from his perspective, his blog is here: http://sugarshane2013.blogspot.com/

-       I giant black bug hit me in the eye when I was riding back to our house from the orphanage on the motorbike. This is Africa. I now know why people wear glasses. It’s a lot more painful than I expected.

-       Pa Anthony (Mama Betty’s husband) told Tim that he was so excited about the new roof for the church that he couldn’t sleep at night. The church met last night (the day we announced we would be fixing the roof) for their weekly prayer meeting and Charlie told us that they spent literally half the meeting dancing and singing out of happiness and thankfulness for The Lord’s answer to prayer. That’s pretty cool if you ask me.

-       Shane brought Amos (the president of ABCU) a devotional as a gift and a “thank you” for letting us stay on the campus here and Amos told him that just last week his devotional was stolen so he has been without one… but God brought him another!

-       Along the same lines, I brought Ma Betty a pink wristwatch as a “thank you” as well. When she opened it she literally cried out of thankfulness and kissed me, thanking me over and over again. She told me that she has been without one for so long but it is so hard to find a nice one in the area. She then immediately went outside and called all the kids over, showing them her watch and exclaiming, “look here at my arm! Look at my arm!” Pa Anthony thanked me and said, “you have made my wife a happy woman” with a smile on his face. Now, I had no clue she needed or wanted a watch. My mom and I just picked it for her because we thought it looked nice. I’m so grateful that God chose to use both Shane and I to bless people with these gifts. It’s just proof that God cares about the little things too. Oh, and Ma Betty now calls me her daughter J

Friday the boys masked up and immediately started tearing down the outdoor kitchen hut near the school. This hut was also made of asbestos, but was low enough to the ground that the kids hang on it and play around and under it. So Tim and Shane decided it needed to be the first to go. They also got practice taking off the asbestos and putting on the new roof before they were 30 feet off the ground. My job was to keep both the school and orphan kids busy and away from the area where they could inhale toxins. And what better way to do this than to sing a few rounds of “Ayo-Ayo”!? After literally 30 minutes of singing and dancing with the kids I thought either my lungs were going to pop or I would collapse from exhaustion. I swear they never grow tired of stuff like that. I’m not sure what it is about this white girl making a fool of herself that they find so interesting, but hey, I’m definitely not complaining.

Later in the afternoon, the older girls took me to the market to “do some shopping.” It was about a 5 minute walk from the orphanage, but it felt like I had entered into another world. As bad as I think the orphanage is sometimes, it looked like a palace compared to this little town. The poverty here is so great. We passed a house that looked like someone had just thrown pieces of scrap metal on the top of their house as a roof. Most of it wasn’t even nailed down. Where there wasn’t giant holes, other parts were caving in. My first thought was “surely no one lives there. It’s probably abandoned.” And then I saw a mom and a few young kids come out from inside. What about my privileged American life made me assume that? No one should have to live in a place like that, but they do. It’s rainy season here. Every night so far I have been woken up by the intensity of the rain that beats down on our roof or the wind blowing against the screens. Last night a bat flew into my room. Being the baby that I am, I made Tim get out of bed to come and make sure it was gone. But what am I really complaining about?

In the market I told the girls I had some money and they could buy whatever they wanted between the 6 of them. They started excitedly talking in their Liberian English faster than I could understand. A few moments later, Julie looked at me and said, “Sis Bekah, we would like to buy to make soup!” So we walked around the market (which was a bunch of wooden stands with wooden roofs lined up tightly next to each other) in search of fish, chicken feet, pepper, seasoning, chile, onion, and peanut oil (for us to eat as a treat). All of this, which was enough food for about 15 of us, only cost $2 USD… and I’m pretty sure one the girls kept my change. Crazy how far a little bit of money will go here – yet no one has even that. Once we got back to the orphanage, I watched as the girls sawed the head off the fish and then gutted it. They thought it was funny how wide-eyed I got watching them. I had the privilege of trying the first spoonful of the soup. Honestly, after seeing them tear that fish to pieces and putting it in the soup, I didn’t have much appetite, but I smiled and tasted it. My mouth was literally on fire from the peppers (If you know me at all, you know I can’t handle ANY kind of spicy… I later found out they hadn’t even crushed up the peppers inside of it yet because they knew it would be too hot for me. Ha!). I feel incredible snobby saying this, but God is definitely using the food here to stretch my comfort zone a little more! After I had tried the soup, all the girls dug in and split the remaining amongst themselves. We sat in their little tiny room, all 13 of us piled onto two bunk beds, laughing and talking about America, school, and of course, boys. I start my Bible study with the girls on Monday, but it’s encouraging to know that they are already starting to get comfortable with me. I’m just praying the God continues to open doors and create opportunities for me to connect with them on more than a surface level!

On Saturday the boys spent a good couple hours tearing down the awning in front of the church. The awning was about 6X8 and made of concrete with rebar in the middle of it. It had been there so long that it was sagging and had started to crumble. I don’t even want to think about what would happen to someone, adult or child, if they were standing under that thing when it finally gave out.

While the boys worked on that project, I helped Charlie take pictures, measurements, and shoe sizes of all the kids for the sponsorship program (http://www.liberiachristian.org/Sponsor-a-Child.html). After I took their picture with Charlie’s camera, I gave them an “American” stick-and-lick (aka: a tootsie pop) and took their picture with a Polaroid camera so they could each have a picture of themselves – a luxury many of them do not have. The look on some of their faces was just too much as they ran off laughing and smiling to show all their friends. Who knows how long each of them will keep their picture – as I’m sure some of the pictures are already ruined from the kids carrying them out in the rain – but it was a blessing just to be able to put a bigger smile on their already shining faces.

I read some stories to the kids in the afternoon. The first book I read to them I’m almost sure none of them understood (they have a hard time with my “American English” sometimes… though technically we speak the same language, Liberian English is very heavily accented so there is always a little bit of a language barrier.) So I tested out my Liberian English with the second book. They all laughed and laughed. It’s a good thing I still have a few more weeks to learn it. We finally compromised on the third book when I read in “American English” but asked them questions so they could better understand. Sadly, they wouldn’t join in with my dog sound effects when we read 101 Dalmatians. Pretty sure they now think I’m crazy!

However, probably my favorite moment of the whole day was when Moses danced for me! This little boy is one of the true orphans at the orphanage (many have parents but they send the kids to the orphanage because they are unable or incapable of taking care of the children themselves). He had a sister at the orphanage, but a few years ago she was adopted by a family in America before Liberia stopped allowing international adoptions. I'll try to post a video of it soon so it can bring a smile to your face like it did mine!

This morning we went to church at Redeemer Baptist – the church next to the orphanage and school where we are replacing the roof. I had the privilege of teaching Sunday school to the kids before the service. I was nervous at first, not knowing what to expect since I’ve never been to a Sunday school in Africa, but was calmed down immediately by the sound of 40 small, but very loud voices singing at the top of their lungs. The kids (12 and under) started the singing on their own without being told and kept singing for probably 20 minutes. I was amazed at the heart these children have. They sang because they wanted to. They danced with pure joy. And when it was time for me to teach they listened intently to the story of David and Goliath – though they’ve heard it a thousand times. They laughed at my pathetic attempts to be funny. They answered my questions with sincerity. And they copied my hand motions for Joshua 1:9 over and over again tirelessly and with as much excitement as when we sing “Ayo Ayo.” I don’t know how anyone can’t help but to fall in love with these kids.

The regular service was much like the one we attended in Monrovia last week, but what I loved most was the prayer that Pa Anthony prayed during the service. I’m not sure when the last time I heard a prayer that consisted of nothing but “thank you God for..…” In fact, I don’t think I have ever heard a prayer that was 100% thanksgiving. There is nothing wrong with asking God for needs (as, in fact, we should), but there is something special about hearing every voice in the room shout out “amen” as Pa Anthony thanks the Lord for “the clean water He has given us,” or for “allowing us to see the end of the month.” There is nothing in this single-room building but a few pews, some ribbons hanging from the ceiling, and about 20 hymnals that have seen far too many years, yet it’s walls are bursting with thankfulness and praise. I can’t help but to think of how many decked-out yet completely dead churches across America (as well as many others parts of the world) have lost their focus somewhere along the way. I wish everyone could experience the sincerity and love for our great God that I felt in this little church today.

At the end of church, both Pa Anthony and Ma Betty stood up and pleaded for the members to get involved in helping with the roof by “earnestly pleading” God for good weather during the upcoming days while the boys are working on the roof. Again, it’s rainy season here, which means it can rain a lot, and it can rain often. We’ve been blessed enough for the past few days to only have it sprinkle in the morning, allowing us to both work and play outside during the day. But now that Tim and Shane will start replacing the roof tomorrow, it is more important that ever that it doesn’t rain during the day until they are finished (they will be replacing it piece by piece, so at night, rain can pour down all it wants). Please keep praying with us that the weather doesn’t slow down or affect the boys and their project!

-       Please also be praying for all of us for wisdom. There is a lot of need here so it can sometimes be difficult to decipher where to spend time, money, and energy.

-       Pray that the enemy’s traps do not distract us and we remain open to where it is the Lord is trying to lead.

-       Continue to pray that we are all stretched and that we are in positions where we are desperate for His Spirit.

-       Please pray that we remain listeners, learners, and servants. I do not want any of us to have the mentality that we know the proper way to fix everything (or even the idea that we can fix everything!).

-       Tomorrow, I start my Bible study with the older girls. We will meet every MWF. I’m very excited for this opportunity to build into them and teach them what it is that God has been teaching me lately. Pray for understanding for both me and the girls and for words to speak – that they would not be my own.

-       Also, I haven’t felt great the past couple days so pray that it doesn’t keep me from doing what I need to be doing!

Thank you for all of your continued prayers and encouragement! 

And here's a few of the bazillion pictures I've taken so far!