Over the weekend, we spent time
with our United Methodist hosts – having meals together and seeing the city
together. I got to know Dehkontee, Sam, and Rose the most. Dehkontee and Sam
showed us Monrovia – we saw the beach that was just on the other side of our
compound wall – we could hear the waves crashing on the beach at night. We went
shopping for fabric to make clothes, and then we went out to eat at a fancy
hotel restaurant. They welcomed artisans into the compound to sell us their
crafts – crosses made out of bullets, dolls, purses, jewelry, wood carvings. Our
friends took us to important Liberian historical sites, like the National
History Museum, a ceremonial government building, First United Methodist
Church, and the monument to their first president, JJ Roberts. We got a feel
for the city on these trips out – we could see people just doing their daily
routine and the effects of their history still impacting them today. We saw the
Ducor Palace, once a five-star resort hotel looking over the ocean, but that
was all but destroyed during their fourteen year civil war. That war ended in
2003, the year I graduated high school, and the ruins of the Ducor Palace still
stand there, a physical reminder of the tragedy they endured. We heard their
stories of survival – through the civil war and then through the Ebola crisis –
and our hearts broke for the tragedies they endured. More importantly, our
hearts rejoiced that they survived, that God was still telling a story of love
and hope through their lives.
On Sunday we
worshiped at a United Methodist church in the city – the congregation welcomed
us like old friends. Worshipping with them, like worshiping with our teacher
colleagues throughout the week, was incredibly powerful. That afternoon, we
visited West Point, a neighborhood located on a peninsula on the edge of the
city. Over 70,000 people live there, in a one square mile area. Sam is closely
tied to the community – and so are we. In 2012, the Illinois Great Rivers
Annual Conference paid to build a school there, their first high school. This
year they graduated their first senior class. The school is furnished with
desks made at the Midwest Mission Distribution Center, and our Annual
Conference is still active in supporting the teachers and the students at West
Point.
On Monday,
we traveled to Gbarnga, a city 120 miles east of Monrovia. People here in Illinois
had described it to me as, “going to the country,” even though it’s the fourth
largest city in Liberia. It took a record-breaking two and a half hours to
drive there – we had planned for four hours, which is down from ten hours that
a friend of mine took six years ago when he went. You see, back then, the
beautiful highway wasn’t there – instead, they traveled on dirt roads between
cities…so this highway was a really big deal.
We passed
small villages, rice patties, rubber tree plantations, mountains and valleys
full of jungle forest. And then we drove into the Gbarnga Mission Station, 300
acres of land that house a school of theology, St. John’s United Methodist
Church, Tubman Gray K-12 School, farmland, and the homes of the people who work
there.
When we
pulled up, I could already hear the sounds of the country – birds and bugs and
puppies and chickens and children playing. And yet it was so quiet compared to
Monrovia. And then we met Dr. Anna – the principal of Tubman Gray School.
I didn’t
realize at first how influential Anna would be to me. Upon arriving at the
Mission Station, Anna introduced herself to us, we met her husband James, and
they helped their cooks serve us lunch. I learned about Anna’s background in
education, ministry, and leadership. After a few hours, she took us on a tour
of her school – and as we stood in her high school library, full of books and
visual aids donated by US schools – she told us about her teachers. How she
hoped we would teach them about learning styles (one of my most favorite topics
in the whole world) and engagement strategies. She said she often taught them
about lessons that are more than just taking notes…which is literally a
discussion I had with my department in Jacksonville last May. She said that it
was possible her teachers would be more likely to believe us, since we were
seen as the experts from outside…which is, again, something I’ve had to deal
with many times in my career. I stood there in awe – this woman who is living a
half a world away was telling me she faces the very same leadership
difficulties I do. Over the course of the next four days, Anna and I had
several conversations about teaching and leadership, particularly as a woman. We
talked about having high expectations for the people we work with and for our
students, and how difficult it can be to support them while they reach those
expectations. She and I have struck up a friendship that I hope flourishes in
the future. In fact, I’ve already had lunch with her in Peoria, when she was
here in August visiting churches who help support her school.
Our team
spent the next three days following the same schedule in the trainings as we
did in Monrovia. Like before, we started and ended each day with devotions with
our teachers – and it always ended with us holding hands in a big circle,
singing to God about the great things He has done in our lives. Carol and I
even covered a few more lessons on how to teach writing because the teachers
there had a stronger foundation of training to begin with – Anna is building up
her faculty with highly qualified teachers.
Our
afternoons in Gbarnga were different than they’d been in Monrovia, though. The
guest house where we stayed was just a ten minute walk from the school, so we
didn’t have the long commute to fill our afternoon. So we just sat on the porch
of the guest house – and in those hours on the porch, I felt God’s peace like I
had never felt it before. The sounds of the country, the butterflies floating by,
the neighborhood children playing with the baseball and bat we brought, the 4
o’clock flowers opening slowly before us, the rainbow fading away as quickly as
it had come. I spent hours just being in that very moment. Being still, knowing
God is in control. Being still has never been so easy before.
During those hours, I talked
with Bunny about other missions she’s been on, and I talked to her and Rose
about becoming a better prayer warrior and how to fast. As we sat there one
afternoon, we heard our cooks singing, “How Great Thou Art,” at the top of their
lungs – it left me speechless. I nearly cried, but let’s be honest, that was a
common occurrence by that time. Praising God in Liberia showed me what it means
to really praise God – like we hear in Psalm 86. In versus 11-13, it says,
“Teach me your way, Lord, that I may rely on your faithfulness; give me an
undivided heart, that I may fear your name. I will praise you, Lord my God,
with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever. For great is your love
toward me; you have delivered me from the depths, from the realm of the dead.”
Our friends helped me praise God with all my heart because they showed me how
they did; they showed what it was like to rely on His faithfulness when they
had nothing else, when He had literally delivered them from the realm of the
dead – first during their civil war, and then during the Ebola crisis. They
taught me how to praise God in a way that shows that I know He is truly God.
We ended our training in Gbarnga
like in Monrovia – with a closing ceremony complete with gifts for our
colleagues and friends. And again, their gratitude was so immense, so
magnificent – they spoke of the things they learned in the training, of how
they had grown during our time together. One teacher said that their hunger for
learning was more than satisfied. James reminded us that we cannot fully
measure the impact of the seeds we planted during our training, that God will
grow those seeds. Anna spoke, holding back tears and thanking us for coming,
thanking God for providing even in the most unlikely times. I did not hold back
my tears – yet again I was overcome with the love they felt for us. Then one by
one they gave us each a gift, again chosen specifically for each of us. Anna and
her teachers gave me this dress, and she said it was just a small token of the
immense gratitude she felt for us coming.
We left Gbarnga the next day,
eyes full of tears but hearts full of peace, love, and gratitude, and we headed
back to Monrovia for two short days before returning home. That leg of the trip
was full of adventures, including a flat tire and seeing someone drive by with
a goat on top their car. On our way, we made a short stop in the Weala
District, another United Methodist Mission Station. Since 2008, Springfield
First has built a strong relationship with the Weala District. Bunny made sure
we stopped there during our travels since my church is so closely tied to it, so
that I could see firsthand what our generosity has provided – a high school
wing to the school, a church, a parsonage, a well, an operation theater. Just
standing there, where we have sent so many prayers and so much support, brought
me to tears.
We arrived
back at the guest house in Monrovia on Friday afternoon and started packing and
preparing to go home. Something in the day’s travels left me feeling a bit off,
you know there’s nothing worse than feeling a bit off when you’re away from
home. Bunny seized the opportunity to teach me even more about prayer – she
prayed for me, and she asked her friend Cynthia, whom we had met a few days
before, to pray for me. The next morning, I felt just fine – wonderful, in fact.
Before breakfast, Rose asked me how I was, and I told her I felt great. She looked
at me and calmly replied, “Because when you’re about God’s business, God’s
about your business.” She said it twice; she knew I needed to hear it twice. I
was speechless, again. God doesn’t promise living out His call will be easy,
but He does promise He will be with us. “Do not fear, for I am with you,” he
says to us in Joshua, and again in Isaiah. Always. And that’s enough, if we
learn to look to Him, rely on Him. That’s not easy, either, but God remains
constant.
In Matthew
28:19, Jesus charges us in the Great Commission to go to the ends of the earth
for Him, sharing His love with everyone. I did actually travel half way around
the world to share the best way I could – through teaching and education – because
that’s who God made me to be, so that’s how He asked me to show His love. That
was God’s business that He wanted me to be about. The more I followed, the more
He paved the way for it to all work out. Our friends in Liberia, they don’t
have the means to travel, so they show God’s love to the ends of the earth who
come to them. The teachers we trained, the United Methodist staff who hosted
us, the cooks who fed us, the drivers and guards who took care of us – they
loved us unconditionally. They don’t love me because they know me all that well.
They love me because God loves me and because we are in this crazy, amazing,
pain-stricken, and beauty-filled life together.
Just before
I left, a friend of mine told me that my “Be still” verse from Psalm 46:10 had
more to it than I’d been reading – the entire verse is, “Be still and know that
I am God. I am exalted among all the nations, I am exalted in the earth.” To
the ends of the earth, Jesus said. I want to leave you today with this -- be
still, and ask God where and how He’s calling you. Maybe it’s serving others
right here in Nokomis, or far away like Liberia, or anywhere in between. Maybe
it’s financial support for people who need your help, or maybe it’s giving your
time and energy to serving them. Be still. God is calling you to share His love
in some way. What part of God’s business is He calling you to be about?
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