Friday's Journal

Tonight I’m sat out here on the dock feeling immensely frustrated and I can’t put a finger on why….perhaps it’s because the realisation that I’ll be leaving this place has rendered me close to tears more than once today, or perhaps it’s the prospect of being on duty all weekend. But whichever, I really have no reason to be. God is doing something big…off the back of Tuesday night, turns out that this week’s community meeting was solely a time of worship. I’d also ended up on the worship team for that; a team of long-term crew, which was a real privilege and a blessing. It was a powerful time, much needed by the crew, but even more necessary as part of this ongoing battle we are facing. Mercy Ships is once again under the attack of the allegations of organ stealing. It’s gotten more serious, become a safety threat, and the president is involved. But regardless, as we stand up in worship and proclaim God, we are re-aligning ourselves with his purposes and plans, and declaring that He has the victory. In me personally, again it feels like something is shifting…like my heartbeat is becoming more aligned with the beat of God’s heart. In the message version of the gospel of Matthew, it talks about God’s unforced rhythms of grace. I feel like I’m moving in that rhythm, having more confidence to act upon what I hear from God. But right now, I’m feeling a little weary, and also a little broken. I’m not really sure I can handle leaving here again. I kind of came looking for either open doors or closure, and I don’t feel like I’ve yet discovered either.

Today at the Orphanage, little Princess went somewhat weird on me. At first I just thought she was a bit upset with me taking my sunglasses back, but then she began wailing some kind of incantation. It took me a little while to realise, but Brenda began praying over her and almost instantly she was smiling and bubbly again. It’s all too easy to get caught up in the fun and games, the smiles and the love, and to forget the tragic situations that write the histories of each of these children’s lives. It took me back to that week of Segue where we spent every afternoon listening to and recording the children’s stories, and then subsequently every evening on our knees in a heart-wrenching combination of tears and prayers.

This life that He has called me to certainly hurts sometimes. Sometimes all I want is for God to heal my heart, and other times I’m really kind of OK with the brokenness. I think that’s maybe how we’re supposed to be sometimes.

But right now I’m just going to sit here on the end of the dock, overlooking the dark city of Monrovia in what would be silence (if it weren’t for the sirens of the unloading cargo ship across the port) and see what God wants to speak to me tonight. I have a feeling it might be one of those tear-prayer combination times.

I stand in awe of you...

I am speechless…though having said that, I’m now going to attempt to find words to express what happened tonight (tuesday)….I guess three words would sum it up.
God. Showed. Up.
A few weeks ago I had this burning desire for more worship onboard the ship….for people to join together to glorify God. It was that kind of “wont’ go away I have to do something about this” kind of desire that generally only comes when God is opening a door and calling me to do something. As a result of a conversation one night with a bunch of girls form all different corners of the globe, we decided we would meet together for worship. And then we figured we should open it up to whoever wanted to come. We prayed, we planned, and we prayed some more, and I genuinely believed that very few people would show up. I didn’t think many people knew about it, despite advertising…the ship was somewhat pre-occupied with the Olympic games and leaving parties. But people just kept on coming….we began and just welcomed God to come, and for the next hour we simply sang praises to our heavenly father, glorifying Him and placing Him in His rightful place. This was my vision from God for this time, and He was faithful as ever.
Worshipping God has more power than we could ever imagine, and I believe we caught a glimpse of that this evening. Something shifted, both seen and unseen. Worship has so much power in the spiritual realm. We are in a battle, God made that very clear. And just as in the time of King Josiah, they sent out the singers first. I am utterly overwhelmed by God, and yet I know this is only the beginning. He is going to do incredible things. A transformation is taking place. His Kingdom is coming more and more. He alone is God, and He reigns. My words are utterly inadequate to describe Him, but tonight there was spiritual breakthrough on so many levels; in my life and in this community. So come Lord Jesus, and take your place.

a presidential encounter

So yesterday, after 4 days of continuous torrential Liberian-rainy-season-rain, the sun finally shone, and a few of us took the opportunity to head to the beach. Another Mercy Shipper who had left ahead of us phoned to tell us that an entire beach resort next door to the patch of beach we were heading to had been washed away in the rains. So we drove off on the usual route only to get stop on the last section of dirt road by a bunch of armed guards. They informed us that the president was down there surveying the damage and that they weren't allowing vehicles to pass any further. We were welcome to get out and walk, however. So we did. A short distance down the road and round the bend comes the first vehicle in a long convoy, full of guards and AK-47s. We step to the side and wait as car after car in the presidential entourage passed. We just stood, waving, feeling somewhat underdressed in typical beachwear (boardshorts and flipflops) to Miss Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf herself. Granted we couldn't really see her due to the tinted glass of her car, but it was somewhat of a bizarre encounter. I certainly wasn't planning on waving to the Iron lady on the side of a dirt road in my favourite old boardshorts!

The damage to the area was astonishing! Apparently the whole area had flooded, many people losing their homes. The water had chosen the path of least resistance, which happened to be right through the middle of the beach area. All that was left was collapsed buildings and piles of debris, as the new river flowed right through the middle of what had once been a resort thriving on NGO business. The destruction caused by the rainy season is often a result of non-existant drainage systems, and is yet another challenge facing Liberia as it begins to rebuild.

Liberia: A shell of a country

Yesterday we made our way upcountry to Bong Mines, a journey we were not able to make during 2005 due to the instability of the country. We travelled via train, well, landrover on top of train, in the pouring rain, making the journey an experience in itself. I think Monrovia has the ability to lull you into a false sense of security; an unrealistic view of what so much of this country is really like. And it's really beautiful...stunningly so. And yet everywhere you go you are struck by the sense that the people have so little. I know this is true of the city, but there is an "elite" class that live here, but I suppose even that is relative to our "wealth." It's not far out of Monrovia though that dwellings move from breeze blocks with tin roofs to mud huts with palm leaf roofs. The sight of so many buildings which were burnt out and derilict becomes somewhat disheartening after a while, and the whole region of the Bong Mines bears testament to this. Vast mining facilities and plants are now simply ugly looking structures of twisted, rusting steel...a shall of what it once was. The landscape is littered with such structures, and with the rusting remains of endless bits of heavy plant machinery. And bullets. This country continues to enthrall me and break my heart all at the same time. It is so beautiful and yet so broken. Stunning scenery and the ruins of what once was are irrevocably enmeshed. The natural beauty, however, is slowly invading the ruins. Beautiful flowers bloom amidst piles of corroding industrial wreckage. Maybe this is a symbol of things to come; of God's hope continuing to spread and grow. So much of Liberia has been reduced to burnt out abandonment. It stands as a shell of the country it once was. War has such a horrible way of taking everything and leaving next to nothing.