walking "IN" God

Yesterday was by far the busiest day I've had since being onboard....I think I sat down for a total of 10 minutes between 7.30 am and 9pm....I finished the day exhausted but with an overwhelming sense that I'd been in the presence of God the entire day. I'd ended up leading a time of worship outside on deck 7 yesterday morning, followed by our department bible study....Cathy my boss shared a picture of not walking "with" God, but walking "IN" God...completely surrounded and encapsulated by his spirit. I can't think of a better place to be, than right there, and where I am right here and right now: walking "IN" God.

culture clash

I'm on call all weekend...which basically means I get the pager and am responsible for all the new crew when they first arrive, and have to sign off those who are departing us this weekend. This morning, however, a lovely lady in my department covered for me which freed me up for a few hours to head out to New Georgia and the Orphanage. We had a good time, as ever. A family who are long term crew onboard came with us, including their two little boys. The children at the Orphange hadn't seen white children before, and after the intial crazy first half hour, to watch them play side by side was beautiful. Another skin-colour breakthrough was made today. There is a 1 1/2 year old boy at the Orphanage who hates white people, and especially me. Last Saturday as soon as he saw me he screamed (I honestly don't have that effect on all children!) Today, however, after a little bit of high-fiving, he came and sat on my lap for ages..... until I noticed a warm wet patch on my skirt and thanked him kindly for peeing all over me!!
So now I'm back on the ship and the culture clash gets me every single time. We serve out bowls of rice in palm oil to the children at the Orphanage and then head back to the ship, where I'm faced with that oh so difficult dilema of how to make my packed lunch a little more appealing. But I'm not the one eating rice in palm oil every day. It really does get me every single time, the vast distance I feel between "us" and "them" when I return to the ship. This has become a constant struggle for me, as so much of my experience of Liberia came from living out in New Georgia alongside the local people, and I loved being alongside....knowing that I was going to have to go back and light the coals to cook my dinner and head to the well to draw water for my bucket shower. Now I just head to the galley for food and my shower water comes from a faucet and gets sucked away by the ship's evac system.
Speaking of the evac system...and I think this may be what has made today's culture shock a little more pronounced.... as part of beign "on duty" in the hospitality department, one of the random tasks of the day is to flush all toilets in empty cabins. So I've just completed my tour of the ship flushing a whole bunch of toilets. Many people on the other side of the port gates don't even have a toilet, and certainly not one the has a high-tech microbial-balanced flushing system that requires flushing every day! My life is such a bizarre fusion of cultural clashes....a realisation which was today triggered by a whole bunch of toilets.

where is the Justice?

Today I decided it was about time I stepped out of my comfort zone. In general, the ship is my comfort zone, and to an extent, the familiarity and friendship at the orphanage has become my comfort zone. It was time for "breaking out." So this morning I joined the team headed for Sisters of Charity...and AIDS Hospice in central Monrovia. We made our way into a room crammed with 20 odd beds, the "sick room," where the most ill patients stay. Those whose beds are nearest the door are so weak and covered in sores that they are mere days away from death. The "healthier" ladies joines us there, and as we were all perched on the edge of the thin mattresses, one of the patients started playing a djimbe drum and we began worshipping the Lord together. One image from this time will forever stick in my mind. A lady on the bed just in front of the one I was sitting on was so thin and sick she could barely move. As soon as the singing started, what tiny glimer of energy she could muster went into moving her stick like arms in time to the beat. (I guess Africans really do always have rhythm!) One of the other ladies pulled her upright for she was too weak to sit up herself, and from there she raised her hands in worship, telling God how great He was. It astounds me that this lady whose body had fallen victim to full blown AIDS could have a spirit so strong as to tell her God how great He was. Her bed was nearing the door....a sure sign that it may be just weeks, or even days, until she goes to meet her heavenly father...the one to whom she will offer the last sliver of energy that she has for He is the one who has sustained her throughout the battle.

How often do I brush over telling God how great He is? This lady truly offered her everything in worship...it quite literally consumed all that she had. How often do I fail to do that?

Thinking back through the war and all the atrocities that it held, many of these women would have contracted the HIV virus through rape. Where is the justice? And yet they still worship God and tell Him how great He is.

a ministry of presence...

Last night I sat on the dock in the wind after a long and slow day at work on the ship, followed by a really special visit to the Orphanage in the evening. I really enjoy visiting in the evenings...the children are relatively chilled out and it's great to just sit......the "ministry of presence." It blesses me so much....to hold Princess, to watch the brother-sister type relationship develop between her and Peter, to abandon yourself to the young girls as they start tugging on your hair to braid it, to watch the games going on and to watch the tears but also the smiles. I just feel so blessed that God has brought me here...at at times maybe I don't need a reason other than to just "be."

this is for you alison urie.....

appologies for the lack of blogging....i've not really got into it yet, but i will try and make more of an effort!

I'm back, it's great and tough all at the same time. Biggest joy: being back in Liberia. Biggest struggle: being back in Liberia and living on in the midst of a giant cultural anomaly that is this big white ship. Someone sent me a great quote this week in response to this:

"I began to realize that God cares less about what we do and more about why we do it".

I don't know why I'm here other than God said so. I'm sure God will remain faithful in that. When I figure it out, I'll let you know.