Sara Dean -

My recent trip to Liberia, West Africa left me with certain feelings that I don’t normally feel after doing a service. I think we all tend to have an uplifted and proud feeling of ourselves after we volunteer our time or money. For some, this might even be their motivation. I have to admit, one of the things I expected out of this trip was that “spiritual high”, and I figured I would end up getting more out of the trip than those I was going to serve. It’s true that upon coming back, I was pleased with the work we did there and I did have a renewing of my mind, but mostly, I was left with an empty and sad feeling. The faces I saw and voices I heard still ring close and bring tears to my eyes and it tears my heart apart. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as broken hearts motivate me to serve.

It is a little ironic because I was actually first inspired to actively seek a trip to Africa from a broken heart after a breakup. At that time, it was important for me to concentrate all my negative feelings and energy towards something, anything that would keep my mind off the pain. Late one night, I was watching a fundraiser for African children and my heart bled for a new reason. I decided to turn my attention from my broken heart and put my energy into getting to Africa. I ended up going with the group that I had met my ex-boyfriend in. He helped us prepare for the trip and as he did that, he indirectly helped me get over him. It worked pretty well, and I think service work and concentrating on problems bigger than ourselves just might be the best medicine for such things.

While in Liberia, I got a sense for how much bigger than me their problems are. I was continuously reminded that the strife there is bigger than all of us and it is a God-size problem. I was easily overwhelmed and highly discouraged at times with how such simple problems in the United States are extremely complex to resolve in a third-world country recovering from a fourteen-year civil war. Most of Liberia is bush area and from what I saw, apart from the capitol city, Monrovia, people inhabited villages which I describe as clearings in the jungle. They live in mud huts and get their water from holes in the ground (often far from their homes). Many spend their days in rubber plantations in the grueling heat, and make as little as $30.00 a month. Some children can’t afford the $15 to go to school and work on their teacher’s farm to pay for their schooling. Many that we saw while working in the makeshift medical clinics had malaria or infections. Each one complained of body aches and/or headaches- not surprising after seeing the intense work they do each day. Liberia is not a “land of opportunity” for most. Their success is not determined by the amount of work they do or how hard they do it; it is their survival that depends on it.

It seems impossible to get money flowing in the bush. I recently read that Liberia’s unemployment rate is 80%. I am far from an expert in these matters, but I can give you an explanation for some things I have been asked upon returning. They can’t grow food and sell it like we do. First, pretty much everyone in the bush can grow their own food, so no one is going to buy it there. Second, I didn’t see many people that were really starving to death, just suffering from malnutrition due to worms and the lack of certain vitamins and protein. Third, if there is a possibility to grow it and sell it to business men in the city and they could export it, that would open the door for a few to generate income. But there is not a way to transport it. The roads are muddy and broken and the villages are hours from the city. Diesel is expensive and there are not any vehicles in the bush. If they did have a way to transport it, the amount they would make from selling the cassava or whatever, would not be enough to cover the cost of transporting it. Finally, they could raise animals, like an orphanage I visited tried to do with pigs. Want to know the result of that? Those pigs are a huge asset and had to be kept safe. The pigs ended up living in the same house as the orphans - mud, flies, and all. Then, try to figure out what you are going to feed those pigs and how you are going to feed them when you are struggling to feed yourself. It just seems impossible for Liberia to rise out of poverty. We drill wells, and then the wells go dry in the dry season. Liberia does finally have a stable government, but even the president needs to use an Internet Café and a yahoo account to communicate. The city does not have any water piping system and barely any electricity. If you are starting to feel discouraged, imagine dealing with it each day, for your whole life. Everything takes so long and takes so much effort, that it is sometimes just not worth doing it.

Still, do not be discouraged. This is a God-sized problem that God can and will fix, but He probably isn’t going to do it alone. He has told me over and over that He is going to do it through me, through us. We are to be His hands and feet. We have been blessed to bless; we have been changed to bring change. The people, especially the children that I met are incredibly resilient. They have joy and hope and they sing praises to God. When I was in Liberia, I learned one very important lesson and that was to listen to God because He is trying to get my attention.

He got my attention through Bobo. At five years old, Bobo was all but shunned from his community; he couldn’t talk or hear and some children would tie him up and beat him with sticks. I took Bobo under my wing for the week. I stuck up for him, taught the children that he is no different from them, nursed his 104 fever back to normal, and showed him all of Christ’s love that I could manage. Halfway through the week, I was holding Bobo, when he suddenly twisted his body to point in the direction from where some work trucks were coming. We couldn’t see them yet, and that was when I realized he could probably hear really loud noises. I carried him down to the market area where he eagerly waved to the truckers. It was warm, so I sat down with him and a couple other children. Bobo started crawling around on me and would not sit still. He started playing with my hair and face and finally my ear. I ignored it all as I sat thinking of other things. Suddenly, he put his mouth in my ear and said my name twice. I was in total awe and just looked at him. The girl next to me yelled, “He just said your name!” Within a couple minutes, his momma was by us and I asked her if Bobo has ever spoken in his life. She told me that only once he had said, “Momma”. She was a Muslim woman, and I told her the stories of how Jesus has healed the deaf and mute. I told her that it was clear that God has a special plan for him and asked if we could bring him to church with us. She agreed, realizing that God could heal her son too. She wasn’t interested in coming with us, but by the end of the week, she stood in a circle with us and prayed with us to our God.

Upon returning, I brought that lesson with me. God has been leading me through scripture, telling me what His will is for my life and I need to be obedient, though it will be difficult. I have gone over Matthew 6 many times, as well as repeating lessons in helping the orphans, embracing the children, and taking up my cross to follow Jesus. Personally, I see myself back in Liberia as a teacher, but I am leaving the details up to God. One thing is certain, the poverty, devastation, injustice, and mercilessness that I saw in Liberia is not of God. I am being called back to do His work and continue to pray for His leadership. I remain hopeful as I think of all the broken people God has used to help change the world…just think of what He will do with such a broken nation!

Being back in the United States for over a month now, the shock of what I experienced has yet to have worn off. I stopped by the Union to use the restroom tonight, and found too late that there was no toilet paper. How great it is to be able to take for granted that there will be toilet paper- and a toilet! - in an American bathroom. I found a centipede in my room a couple days ago and I called an exterminator, instead of painting the walls with diesel to detract the pests. I found myself at a bus stop with a homeless man and the stench brought me back to the homeless city of Monrovia. These things continue to motivate me and I anxiously look forward to see just how God is going to use me next.

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