My Schedule

Things here are intense! I am in class every day from 8:00am- 3:30pm. We take an hour for lunch, but otherwise we are in the lecture hall studying an incredible array of topics. Then we often have a small group for an hour, dinner, then more lectures. The lectures are extremely amazing and challenging. The majority of the challenge is in grasping the huge topics we are discussing, but there is the small challenge of remaining alert and awake for the class time. In just the last two days we have covered topics such as: "Who is God?", "What is wrong with the world?" "The common views of God, 'Santa Clause,' 'The Dictator,' 'The Father Figure,' 'An Abstract Force,' 'The Shepherd,' or an 'Old Man.'" We have also talked about truth.. or if there is even anything really true. You get the picture. We are dealing with intense topics. And during this entire process, I am still struggling to see clearly. My right eye is perfect, but my left eye is still blurring. I wish I had time to write more, but I need to complete my nightly homework. I would appreciate your prayers. My mind and heart are being stretched, I love the challenge, but no growth is easy. More later.

The Prophetic Taxi Driver

Exhausted from a busy work week, my friend, Doctor Susie, decided it would be best if she slept in and had a cab transport me to the airport for my flight out to Texas. Susie arranged for a cab to pick me up in New Orleans at 6:30 am. Susie had the cab ride all arranged for me before I could even attempt to reject the idea. My main concern was the cost of the cab fee and my lack of funds, considering my current job has great benefits, but they are "out of this world" and at this time, I pay TO work. Susie hugged me good-bye, told me the cab fee was only $30.oo, for a 15-minute drive ( I almost choked), and then she jumped into bed. I continued packing my belongings hoping to soon hit the hay myself. But, being slightly concerned about detail, I checked my cash stash. $21.00 is all I found. Shoot... I started to panic. I had no more cash, Susie was fast asleep, I was no where near an ATM, and I was guessing the cab driver wouldn't want one of my nice little checks from a bank in Idaho. I grabbed the phone book and saw that the cab company took visa. I thought that was odd, so I called the company to double check. Sure thing. They accepted visa. No worries. The next morning the cab driver was prompt and on time. We started our short journey to the airport. The cab driver was friendly and very talkative. Out of politeness, I asked him if he just started his shift. He reported he had been working all night long and was actually the dispatcher that took my friend's call requesting the early AM pick-up for me. He said all the other drivers were busy that morning, but he knew I was a young lady that needed to get to the airport, so he agreed to drive me even though his shift was over. After he made that comment, I had some really stupid thoughts, results of watching too many creepy movies. I thought he was scary and going to eat me with gumbo or hurt me. I was thinking.. um, that is why I wanted my friend to take me to the airport in the first place... Coming back to reality, the stupid thoughts left and we continued chatting. The taxi drive found out I was a volunteer in Africa and he thought it was really admirable. He then started spouting off an amazing array of philosophical quotes and facts. I couldn't believe, that he was attempting to discuss philosophy at such an early hour, but a lot of what he was saying made sense. I was actually impressed and touched by many of the topics he discussed. After awhile, I was beginning to wonder how much longer it could take to reach the airport. Although the taxi driver's conversation was interesting; I was tired and it was 6:40am! I was politely nodding to his comments, but starting to zone out. Then he looked me in the eye through his rear view mirror and caught my attention. He said, “Young lady, I sense that sometime in your youth, your teenage years, someone broke your trust and it has been hard for you to trust ever sense then. I sense you are angry with yourself regarding this situation. It wasn’t your fault for trusting, you feel horrible about it, but so does the person that hurt you. And now, you struggle with trust. You build up walls that are not easy to get through. Those walls will cause you to miss out." I cannot even really recall what else the man said, but I was so shocked by his words and the accuracy of his statement. This man had never met me and had no way of knowing something so personal to me. But, in some manner he was speaking directly to my heart. No, I haven't been sitting around hurt and lonely because of this past, broken trust, but some of his message really rang true. He then went on the say this quote: “Don’t let anger, bitterness, or resentment keep you from reason, logic, good judgment and a thing called love. “ New Orleans Taxi Driver I still do not know why that quote has impressed me so much. But, I think it is very applicable for everyone. I think there are tiny nuggets of truth that we can learn from it. It doesn't have to apply to only male and female relationships, but can apply to any relationship. Maybe it could also apply to our concept and opinion of God. Either way, I have been thinking about the truth of this statement and the fact that we need to attempt to let things of the past be past. We cannot let the past "spoiled attempts at love" taint our vision of God's truest, purest, love. Okay, I know I am not a philosophy major, so I will move on. The taxi driver finally pulled up to the airport and reported the cab fee was $30. I said, "you take visa, right?" He looked at me like I was an alien, no way did they take visa. I felt horrible, I said, but I even called the company last night and confirmed that you take visa. He assured me that was never their policy or action. I said, "but I don't have enough cash." He replied, "how much you got?" Embarrassed, I reported, "$21.00." He said, "sounds perfect." I was still distraught and he said, "Darling, why you feelin' bad?" Obviously, it was because I didn't have the proper payment for the cab fare and I didn't want to cheat the man. He said, "don't feel bad, $21.00 is great for me!" I handed him all the cash I had. Thanked him for the ride and one more time he said: “Don’t let anger, bitterness, or resentment keep you from reason, logic, good judgment and a thing called love." I believe that New Orleans taxi driver knows God. If he does not, I still believe God used him to speak to me and bless me. I had thought $30.00 was a steep cab fare and I ended up only having to pay $21.00 So, I didn't get a Louisiana swamp tour, or a chance to visit the Voo Doo Costume shop, but I believe I met a prophetic taxi driver. Crazy as that may sound, it fits in perfect with the crazy city of New Orleans. But, after all there is never any place on earth too crazy for God to find us and speak to us!

On the Road Again

Just the other day I was out for a drive with a friend. I was taking in the scenic view and enjoying some educational reading: the local billboards. It is always interesting reading the random messages plastered on North American billboards from desperate advertisers, looking to capture your attention in hopes of making a buck. But, there was something different about these billboards. I read signs advertising scrumptious "Fried Pickles," "Po-Boys," the "Voo Doo Costume Shop," "and "Swamp Tours!" At this point, I realised I wasn't in "Kansas" anymore. Make that, I wasn't in Kansas, New Hampshire, or Idaho anymore. I was in a new land. A land of gumbo, red beans and rice, and alligators! I had arrived in New Orleans! I don't know what my first clue was that I was no longer in a familiar land, but I can tell you I ain't never seen a drive-through daiquiri shop! This place is crazy! A few hours earlier I had said good-bye to my parents and friends in Idaho. I had boarded a plane, travelled across America, and arrived in the foreign country of Louisiana. It is a different world down here. Everyone has a swamp mobile, the confederacy lives on, and I have already met someone named Bobby-Boo Shay. Just kidding. Either way, I am on the road again. Stop one... Louisiana.. for a free Lasik eye surgery. Services donated by my dear friend Doctor Susie, whom I met aboard the Mercy Ship. Again, as with my first root canal, God blessed me with extreme exhaustion and therefore, very limited anxiety pre-operation. I even fell asleep in the waiting room. I was the last case of the day and therefore would have had plenty time to freak out and become highly anxious, but instead, God used my emotional and physical exhaustion from running around the past month and a half, to provide me with a calm for my upcoming surgery. God is good. His ways sure aren't our ways. but go God! I felt a small tap on my shoulder and a kind nurse escorted me to the pre-treatment room where I was given 15mg of Valium, a medication with the purpose of sedation and relaxation. Apparently, I am a light weight. The nurses couldn't believe my response to the medication. The medication is intended to calm a person, not knock them out. Either way, per report from the doctors and nurses, I was one of the best patients they ever had. I didn't move one inch. And I was afraid the doctor would yell at me, tell me to quit wiggling my legs, and have to tie me down to the table! Not the case here. The surgery took about 15 minutes and the medical team had to practically carry me back to the post-operative recovery room. It has now been three days since my surgery. I am proud to tell you I am writing this note myself and I can basically see the computer screen without difficulty. Things are a little blurry in my left eye, but I am praying that gets better. I have obtained 20/20 vision in my right eye. My left eye is 20/30 or something like that. Hopefully, it will get better. If not, I may need to wear one contact. The doctor said my case was extremely difficult because of the severity of my nearsightedness. My eyes were bad. We are talking, if my glasses were off, I couldn't read my alarm clock without picking it up, letting it hit my nose, then the numbers came into focus. Trying to look at myself in the mirror without my glasses was out of the question. My vision has greatly improved, but I am hoping for fast, total healing. I would sure appreciate your prayers toward that end as well. Tomorrow, I say good-bye to the land of blackened this and that, jazz music, crazy parties, and damage from hurricane Katrina. I am on my way to Texas! Y'all make sure you come back now and visit my blog for more updates!

Transition

I stood in the shower today, far longer than two minutes, and let the water rush around me. My thoughts almost as many as the drops of water flowing over me. Thoughts running faster than I can process. It seems I have traveled the world and back, which I have, but daily my thoughts travel millions of miles in an attempt to process everything. I was in Africa… I really was… It was only 3.5 weeks ago, but seems like an eternity. I was in Idaho… the place I have lived the longest, out of all the places I have lived. My home??? I am not sure where my home is anymore. I sat in the dental chair days after returning from Africa and I think I made history, falling asleep during a root canal procedure. God answers our prayers in amazing ways. I spent Thanksgiving with my family and one of the only African families, I know of, in the state of Idaho. It was a blessing to have some of my African brothers and sisters around. There are so many white people in America! It is a shock! I flew across America to New Hampshire to my most recent home prior to living on the ship in Africa. But, is this my home? I don’t know… I am realizing more and more that this world is not my home… My true home is in Heaven. The word "cold" isn’t adequate to describe the chill that ran through my bones as I took my first step outside the Manchester Airport. I suppose it would have helped if I was wearing shoes instead of flip-flops. The piles of snow scattered about reminded me one of my first projects would be to dig through my storage items to find some snow pants and boots! Fully clothed in one of my African dresses, snow boots, gloves, and my winter coat, I drove the old familiar road toward Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center, my previous employer. Dartmouth is an absolutely incredible hospital, it employees over 6,000 people, and until this week, I was one of them. It was emotional walking through my old nursing unit and seeing everyone. It was great to be warmly welcomed back by my colleagues. It was fun sharing stories with them and laughing about the differences of nursing in Africa and in the United States. I relished in their attention and compliments for how the African lifestyle and clothing suit me. I agree with them and it is complex to comprehend leaving the States again to pay to volunteer in Africa. It is complex, but I am 100% sure it is what I want to do and what God has called me to do. It was like Christmas morning as I opened all my boxes stored in my friend’s basement. It was exciting digging in box after box and being reunited with my old teddy bears, winter clothes, and other small treasures. At the same time, I cried thinking of my selfishness and inner turmoil over wanting to keep my belongings for if and when I return to America, but not really needing any of the items in that spacious basement. During the last eight months, I lived in a shoebox, had one small, small closet, and I did not miss one of the items in the pile I was standing in. I was content. But… "what if I want this in the future…well, Laura, it isn’t practical to keep taking your friend’s space and storing items people could really use when you aren’t using them…but… I will need it if I come back…but, not within the next year… but I could use the money if I sold the items…but my time here is limited and who wants to come to a yard sale in a snow bank?" My head was about to explode. Being reunited with my West Lebanon Baptist Church family was superb. During the beginning of the service we prayed for someone to buy my car. Moments later, during the "meet and greet" time, two people reported interest in my car. PRAISE GOD! A few days later I sold my car! I cried tears of joy for God’s provision of providing a buyer, but tears of recognition, that my current life in America is slipping away. I enjoyed a busy day full of reunions and great conversation with treasured friends. Tired and blessed, I traveled to Sharon, Vermont, where I am staying with one of my "adopted families." Upon getting ready for bed, I was literally struck with lightening, intense, pain near my right kidney. I grabbed the phone to call my mom and dad in Idaho, like they could help from 3,000 miles away. In tears of agony, I rolled on the floor squeezing the life out of a borrowed teddy bear. I vomited related to the immense pain surging through my back. It was decided I should head to the emergency room, the kidney stones were probably back. I vomited off and on during the 25-minute drive to the hospital, my "adopted" mom doing her best to comfort me. The physical pain intensified and I was full of inner pain knowing the hospital bill was going to be HUGE and my health insurance status is mostly non-existent. I attempted to remind myself, "God owns all the money in the world and he can afford this bill." After a lethal dose of narcotics, the pain was almost gone. I had been in the emergency room for 5 hours and the doctors said I could go home. I called another friend from church to pick me up and arranged to stay at their house in town, considering my "adopted mom" had to work in the morning and she had left the ER around 2:30am. My friend, a true servant, picked me up, drove me to the pharmacy to get a slew of expensive drugs, and then helped tuck me in at 4:30 am for a fitful, painful night of sleep. Days later and many glasses of water later, some of the stones passed. I had numerous diagnostic tests and appointments with the doctors at Dartmouth. The current status: CT scan shows no more stones needing to pass at this time, but multiple stones in the early stages of formation. Nothing needs to be done at this time. The stones I gave the doctor are being analyzed to determine the root cause of this issue and the next plan of care. Am I going back to Africa? Yes! Brain tumors don’t get me down, so a little patch of kidney stones isn’t gonna stop me either! It just would be nice if the stones would leave me alone. Prayer request: The hospital bill for one of the tests was $6,000 USD alone. My God is big, but my faith is sometimes small, small. My heart is hurting trying to figure out where I am going to get the money needed for these bills. I am working with Dartmouth to get them to understand my current status. It is not like I am unemployed, or lazy, and wanting a free handout. I work for the King of Kings and my benefits are out of this world and it isn’t payday yet! I achieved a status of being kidney-pain free, but my tooth, on the other hand, "Oh, danger!" The Idaho root canal was supposed to take care of my dental pain. I should not be waking up at night with dental pain. The dentist even gave me antibiotics, there should not be infection-causing pain. What the heck? In God’s timing and plan I connected with a local dentist that is a believer in God and he miraculously got me an emergency appointment with an endontist (a special root canal dentist, it normally takes months to get in to see them). When I was leaving for my appointment, I found a large sum of cash in my purse. It had to have been put there by my Bible study group that I had shared my experiences with a few nights prior. But, why hadn’t I seen it before? I put it in a safe place and thanked God for this huge blessing and provision! After the endontist played with a flame and fire around my tooth, it was determined the wrong tooth had been worked on. The dentist on the ship did his best to diagnosis the pain in my tooth. The pain was confusing, referring to another tooth, the x-rays he interpreted were clear, the real culprit tooth, appeared fine and he didn’t have the technology available to put fire on the roots of my tooth to determine the source of infection. The ship dentist had drilled the suspected infected tooth and put an antibiotic in it, which meant the dentist is Idaho had to finish the work on that tooth, therefore not thinking to consider another tooth as the issue. After touching my tooth with fire and causing me to jump from the chair, the endontist said I needed another root canal. I started crying and the dentist asked if I was in pain. I reported "no, but I don’t know where I am going to get the money to pay for this. I pay to volunteer as a nurse in Africa." The dentist handed me a tissue and said, "I’ll be back to start the procedure in a few minutes." Man alive! I am kicking myself for not taking better care of my teeth when I was small. Miraculously, the money I found in my bag was the exact cost of the root canal, but that money was for my trip, not my health concerns. God is in control. As you can tell, I am full of emotion, thoughts, and stories. The following is the lyrics to a song called God is God by Steven Curtis Chapman. This song is a comfort to me and expresses some of what I cannot form into written word. I will keep you posted. Thanks for your prayers and endless encouragement.

God is God by Steven Curtis Chapman

And the pain falls like a curtain On the things I once called certain And I have to say the words I fear the most I just don’t know

And the questions without answers Come and paralyze the dancer So I stand here on the stage afraid to move Afraid to fall, oh, but fall I must On this truth that my life has been formed from the dust

God is God and I am not I can only see a part of the picture He’s painting So I’ll never understand it all For only God is God

And the sky begins to thunder And I’m filled with awe and wonder ‘Til the only burning question that remains Is who am I

Can I form a single mountain Take the stars in hand and count them Can I even take a breath without God giving it to me He is first and last before all that has been Beyond all that will pass

Oh, how great are the riches of His wisdom and knowledge How unsearchable for to Him and through Him and from Him are all things

So let us worship before the throne Of the One who is worthy of worship alone

God is God and I am not I can only see a part of the picture He’s painting God is God and I am not So I’ll never understand it all For only God is God

Africans dressed for a snowstorm

I arrived at the Liberian airport in tears. I pulled myself together to clear security and check-in. Good thing the flight was not full because the airline did not have my reservation. I boarded the plane with a heavy, exhausted heart. I attempted to settle in for the 7 hour flight to Brussels. Full of emotion and wanting to cry, I closed my eyes and started to pray. A few hours later I woke up and enjoyed a lovely airplane meal of rubber lasagna. It actually tasted amazing! With all the packing a good-byes during the day, I had forgotten to eat and I was ravenous. I laughed out loud when I saw a Liberian walking down the aisle wearing a stocking cap and the thickest winter jacket. I looked around the plane and realized all the Africans were dressed for a snowstorm. Bless their hearts! I arrived safely in Brussels and hit my first wave of culture shock. The airport was huge and decorated for Christmas. I missed spring and fall, so it is odd to think Christmas is coming! There were so many white people and none of them were smiling. My travel buddy Karoline and I sat in the corner with small tears forming in our eyes. We smiled when a Liberian women and her small boy approached us. They needed help making a phone call. I resisted the urge to grab the little boy and kiss him all over. Karoline helped the woman and said it was all worth it just to hear her say, “thank-you-oh.” A few hours later, I said good-bye to Karoline and we went our separate ways. It was perfect for Karoline to be the last person I said good-bye to. She was one of the first people I met on the ship. She was from Canada and when we met, we found out we were both nursing graduates from Trinity Western University. We even shared the same favorite professor. Karoline is ending here 3 years of service with Mercy Ships and our last week on the ship; she had the assignment of training me for my role of charge nurse next year. In essence, she is passing me here baton of service. Pray for her as her adjustment will be very difficult. I slept the majority of my 9.5 hour flight to Chicago. I did wake up for all my wonderful airplane meals. I do not know if the quality if airplane food has greatly improved or if my taste buds were really tired and out of shape, but I thought the food was divine! I had grapes! It was awesome. I have really been craving fresh produce and those 7 little grapes were delicious! I cleared US customs and was granted entry back into America! The airport was cold! I had gone from 99* F weather to 32*F in Chicago. My flip-flops were not cutting it. I guess it did not help matters that I made my first meal chocolate milk, a chocolate milkshake, and a crisp salad! The proper milk was incredible. I grew up on powered milk, which I am totally accustomed to, but I never could get used to the boxed room-temperature milk on the ship. I was pumped to have some real milk; I bet my calcium-depleted bones appreciated it too. The shivers that went up and down my spine were worth it as the smooth, milky beverages coated my throat! My lay-over was 6 hours in Chicago. After sobbing on the phone with my parents, I enjoyed a 30 minute massage from a little booth in the airport. I then called some of my best friends on the ship and was blessed to hear their voices. I feel asleep on the plane from Chicago to Salt Lake City, before the airplane took off. I was shivering and the Latin man next to me loaned me his sweatshirt. Even though I was totally out to the world, we spoke in Spanish and I thanked him for the use of his sweatshirt. I might have been dreaming it, but I think he told me my Spanish was fairly good. Oh, the inner conflict of my love for the Latin culture and language, but my growing passions and current call to Africa. God works in mysterious ways. Smelly, weary, and beyond the point of confused, and jet-lagged, I arrived in the arms of my wonderful God-fearing, parents. We quickly snagged my luggage and started the 2.5 hour drive to Idaho. After 39 hours of travel, I arrived at my child-hood home. I stood in the huge, spacious living room of my parent’s home and stared at the wall. I wanted to sleep, eat, use the toilet, shower, run around like crazy, cry, scream, and sleep all at the same time. After a few minutes of indecision, I settled for a shower. I took a 2 minute shower and even shut the water off and on in between the shampooing process. My parents were proud of me. I have learned many good things from living on a ship in Africa! Confused and uncertain of what time it was or which country I was in, I feel asleep thanking God for my African Adventures and that His story with me and adventures for me are not finished yet. More to come.

tears

It is the night before I leave Africa. I am sitting here at the computer full of emotion, exhausted, with tears running down my face. I have tears of sadness, grief, joy, and pure exhaustion. I am sad... to leave Liberia, the ship, and so many of the friends I have come to love here. I am sad... to know that many of my best friends will not be on the ship when I return. I grieve... for those we were not able to help and for the people of Liberia as they rebuild after their horrific years of war. Life is not easy here. My tears of joy come because God is so good. He has blessed me beyond anything I deserve. He has truly helped me to find a home wherever I am, because He is with me. My suitcase is empty, my flight arrival time is not confirmed, my room is a mess, I have good-byes to say, and I am tired. I will write more later. I leave the ship tomorrow at 5:00pm Africa time, which is 5 hours ahead of NH, 7 hours ahead of ID, and 8 hours ahead of BC. I covet your prayers as I travel home. Stay tuned to my blog from many postings of the "untold stories of Liberia." I love all of you.

what your name?

"What you name?" I cannot even count how many times I have been asked that question and how many times I have asked that question of the people I meet here. At home, I've met many people with a variety of names... from Tom, Sam, Rachel, Kim, David, Kelly, and so on and so forth. Occasionally, I meet someone with an slightly more unique name such as Shalom, Lanae, Ali, Jonas, or Logan, but even those names are not that unusual. In Africa it is a different story altogether. Most little girls dream of meeting a handsome prince, falling in love, and riding off into the sunset to a land of "happily ever after." I have dreamed of finding my prince, but never did I imagine, that I would actually meet someone named Prince. One of the first weeks I was here, I took care of a patient named Prince, he was charming, and did ask me to marry him, but I graciously declined. I was shocked that my patient was actually named Prince, but now that I have been in Africa for 7.5 months I now know that Prince is actually one of the more "normal" names. I have met Darling Boy his name was a great fit, he actually was very darling. Another baby was named Praise. We called him Mega Praise because he is one big baby. I have also met Gift, Baby Girl, Blessing, Peewee, Playboy, God's Gift, Baby, Princess, Precious, Dearest, Hope and Joy( a set of twins), Anointed, Lucky Boy, and Daughter. Some more of the common names in Africa include Hawa, Finda, Kaymah, Varlee, Bendu, Jitta, and Esi. I have asked a number of the parents where they come up with the names for their children and most of them say from life circumstances. This past week I took care of a delightful, little 3 month-old baby that had a cleft lip surgery, his name.... Oldpa.... There was nothing old or pa about him, I have no idea where that name came from, but I won't ever forget him or his name. Directly across from Oldpa was my 5 year old patient named... Mama.... I love this place! This culture is so unique and beautiful.

Stinky, Dirty, White Girls

After working 62 hours in 6 days, I was ready for a little down time. Although I wanted nothing more than to sleep for days, I mustered up the energy for a small adventure. The plan was to go to the market. In any developed country, a trip to the market is not normally considered an adventure, but in Africa, everything is an adventure! My friend Tina and I filled our water bottles, donned our sun cream (Irish term for sunscreen), carefully stowed our spending money in our bags, and set out for the day. The idea was to take a taxi to Water Side, a market known to have beautiful African fabric and fun wheelbarrows to shop from. We left the ship early in the morning; hoping to avoid the heat and competition for a taxi. We reached the main road and hoped for a taxi, considering we had only been outside for 10 minutes and the sweat was already forming droplets above our lips. It is hot here and there was no chance we wanted to walk the 45 minutes-1 hour that it would take to reach the market. Taxi after taxi rushed past us as we held our pathetic, little, white, fingers in the air, pointing to the direction we wished to go. Finally, it was decided we should walk father down the road to where more taxis gather. No luck; overfilled taxis continue to whizz past us. Jokingly, I suggest we ask a little man with a wheelbarrow if he would push us to the market. People here are more than willing to do anything for money. Besides my buddy and I weigh less than the weight of the bricks, concrete, steel, or lumbar that the men here normally push. We keep walking with the hopes that eventually we will find a taxi. At this point, the sun is scorching and there is absolutely no shade in site. The road I am walking on does not have sidewalks. I weave my way around huge potholes, piles of garbage, poop, and wheelbarrows. To my left, there is a two lane road, with about 5 lanes of traffic in it. Everyone makes their own path. I hope I don’t get sideswiped on my quest for an adventure. I stop and drink almost a gallon of water in one gulp. Momentarily refreshed, we carry on. Everyone in town is starring at the two white girls walking down the street. It makes me feel awkward. I hate feeling awkward, so I smile, wave, and say, “How you be? Or “How d’ body be?,” typical Liberian greetings. The hard stares disappear and I’ve made new friends. One hour later, I am thoroughly drenched with sweat, but I have reached the market. Holy cow it is hot! Can it really be November? Exhausted and almost out of water; let the shopping begin! We wander around street after street, stopping to look at fabric, and all the other interesting items for sale. One man yells, “white woman, come here, for you, I make good offer, guaranteed quality here.” As he tries to sell me previously worn shoes that were shipped from American and were supposed to be handed out for free to the needy people here. Another man shouts at my friend, “I want to marry you! Carry me to America!” My friend and I cannot help but giggle and she says, “Sorry-oh, I’m Canadian!” He is quick to reply, “Okay, carry me to Canada!” We laugh and keep walking. Hour after hour passes as we wander the market streets. We are thoroughly parched and look for something safe to drink. We spy a little umbrella on the street corner with a cooler in its shade. We hope it has cold, sealed, drinks inside. Although, anything wet at this point would be divine! To my great surprise, there is not only soda, but juice for sale! Juice is hard to come by here. I purchased two 100% pure Minute Maid orange juices. Oh, how exquisite it tasted! I haven’t had proper orange juice since April and my thirst is now quenched! More shopping! Behind me on the street there is loud music blaring. The sound quality from speakers on a moving wheelbarrow is impressive! When I can finally decipher the words from all the other market noise, I recognize the song as one of my favourite African tunes! I decide to barter with the mobile DJ for a CD. I must have a copy of my favorite music to play for all my friends at home! While the wheelbarrow driver is playing me different selections from the album, my buddy and I attempt to dance along with the music. A small crowd forms and the locals laugh and laugh at the attempt of white girls trying to dance. I’ve got no rhythm! A deal was sealed and I walk away content with my new purchase, just hoping the CD actually works. A few more hours have passed and we are feeling hungry. We stop a woman with bananas on her head and purchase two for about 20 cents. My buddy quickly peels her banana and is ready to take a bit when I accidently bump her arm, causing her to drop it onto the street! She was so sad! No five second rule here. A police man watched the entire exchange and quickly stopped the banana lady and said, “Two more bananas for the ladies, on me.” I cannot say I have ever had a man buy me bananas before. I was touched! We thanked him and he thanked us for our work with the Mercy Ship. Very few white people hang out in Liberia, therefore, he had a pretty good guess that we were with the ship. Satisfied with our little snack, we keep wandering around the market. We were looking at some beautiful fabric pieces for an African outfit, when an elegant African lady stopped at the fabric booth down the row from where I was standing. She was wearing a very unique, stunning dress. I have been here for almost 8 months and I have never seen such a dress. She caught me starring at her, so I quickly explained that I was admiring her dress. She proudly told me she made it and went on the say she was a seamstress and had a shop just around the corner. She promptly offered to sew a dress for me and invited me to see where her shop was so I could come for measurements; after purchasing fabric. I asked how far her shop was, she assured me, “not far, just around the corner.” That was my first mistake. In Africa, you should never ask how far something is in distance, but rather in how long it takes to get there. “Just around the corner,” turned out to be a good 45 minutes walk. Yikes! I should have worn better shoes! She had a very nice little shop and I told her she may see me in the future. We have been out in the sun for about 6 hours now. I cannot believe how much time I can spend in the market, especially when there is not much to buy and I don’t have any money. We decided to look in a few more fabric stores and then head back to the ship. We stepped into a store that had a fan running on a generator; we pretended to be looking at the items for sale, while catching a few cool blasts of air from the fan. I was more subtle about my intentions in the store than my friend and the store owner abruptly told her she would have to pay for the use of his fan. We went on our way. We ducked into a Lebanese owned fabric warehouse. The temperature inside this room was intense. My friend told the store owner he needed a fan. He said he would love one, but then all the street folk would gather around his fan and not buy anything. Smart man! The man made small talk while we looked at his fabric and he asked if we wanted something to drink. I was slightly confused by his offer considering he sells fabric and there certainly wasn’t a vending machine in the corner of his store. We attempted to decline his offer, but the dried grooves of pre-dehydration on my tongue spoke up. Next thing I knew, a little black man from behind the fabric piles ran out into the market and returned with two ice cold Sprites. Wow, what an incredible day! I haven’t had a man buy me dinner, or anything like that for about 10 years, and in one day a free banana and a Sprite! I was blessed by the kindness of the shop owner and police man. It was like God was smiling down on me, he didn’t answer my prayer for a cool breeze or clouds in the sky, but he knew my hearts cry was to feel refreshed and he provided for me in different ways. Time to go home, but there was a small, small problem; the need for a taxi. I was certain my legs would not carry me back to the ship. Tina and I stood on the street side and began the waiting process for a taxi. We laughed out of pure exhaustion at our pathetic state. We looked horrible and didn’t smell much better! We weren’t getting anywhere and it was getting late and we didn’t want to miss dinner on the ship! Thankfully, a police man, different from the banana police man, came to help us get a cab. He wasn’t having much success at first, but then he flagged down a private vehicle and the driver agreed to drive us to the ship. We made the 7 minute drive to the ship and I asked the man how much we owed him. He declined my money offer and thanked us for our hard work for the Liberian people. I felt I owed him something for his generosity, so I offered him my shiny, red apple. He quickly accepted my payment and drove off. We were stinky, sweaty, thirsty, hungry, and dirty, but home. What a day!

Vote

Over the past few months, I have been humbled and encouraged to have a number of my African friends tell me they are praying for America. I know America is a mission field and needs prayer, just as any other country but, at times I revert back to the mentality that America and other developed countries are without need. It is easy to view European countries and North America as the countries that are to be praying for and sending missionaries to underdeveloped nations, not the other way around. I know this mentality is completely faulty, but nonetheless, it exists. Being on the ship has been an incredible blessing and it has been awesome to see the cultural diversity in God's kingdom. It has strengthened my faith to see so many people from different walks of life, believing the same Gospel and message of salvation. In essence, the ship is a tiny taste of heaven. There are people here from many tribes, tongues, and nations; all working together for God's glory. The message we believe in is the same. There are people on the ship from Ireland, Wales, England, Norway, Sweden, Holland, Germany, Russia, Ukraine, Korea, Japan, Nepal, Canada, USA, Central America, Jamaica, Brazil, Dominican Republic, Nigeria, Togo, Benin, Kenya, South Africa, Sierra Leone, Ghana, New Zealand, and Australia. Those are just a few of the countries represented here on the ship. Over the past few weeks there have been plenty conversations regarding the upcoming election in the United States. My African friends have told me they are very concerned about our election because they know what takes place in America, influences the rest of the world. I am glad that my friends are lifting America up in prayer. America is at a critical point in its history. Other countries recognize it, but do we? We need to unite and come before God as a nation. As election day is here, do not fear. America is in God's hands, people are lifting our country up in prayer. Take your stand today, continue to pray for our country, and vote today! Forgive me, I know this post is fragmented and poorly written. I am in the middle of another night shift. My thoughts are all over the place, but I cannot stress the importance of your votes today!

So, what next?

It is November 1, 2008 and I have been in Africa for almost 7 months now! I cannot describe how wonderful it has been to be here living my childhood dream, of serving the Lord in medical missions. I have enjoyed every minute of my time here (well, not the minutes when my kidney stones were moving around). But, nonetheless, I am passionate about the work here and the work that Mercy Ships is doing for the Kingdom. I have embraced the African culture with all my heart and energy and it has been an incredible and extremely rewarding experience! The Liberian people are amazing. Their unwavering faith, courage, compassion, and gratitude encourage me in so many ways. In my mind, this trip was a trial of sorts, to continue exploring the call of missions; I feel God has placed on my heart. Prior to this trip, I had completed a number of brief mission trips, but hungered for more exposure to missions. The past 7 months here have been a great exposure to missions and at this time in my life, I cannot imagine going back to my totally comfortable life and job in America. I feel a huge part of me would be aching to be back in Africa with Mercy Ships. Therefore, after much consideration and listening to God’s leading, I have decided to continue serving with Mercy Ships! This decision was not made irrationally and I believe many of you will not be surprised at my choice to come back to Africa. So, what next? I am returning to Idaho, as originally planned for the holidays. I will be leaving Africa November 21, 2008. I will stay in Idaho through American Thanksgiving. I will then travel to New Hampshire December 3- December 16. I am hoping to connect with all my WLBC and DHMC family and friends in New Hampshire. I will also be looking to move some of my belongings into more permanent storage. I may also try to sell my car. In mid December, I will return to Idaho and spend Christmas with my family, brother, sister-in-law, my brother’s in-laws, and my Paul Baptist Church Family. In mid January, I will be going to the headquarters for Mercy Ships in Garden Valley, Texas. I will be enrolling in a course called Gateway. The course is designed to train and equip people for long-term service in missions. There is a field project with this course in the Dominican Republic. I am excited about this outreach because I will have a chance to continue working on my Spanish and my love for tortillas, rice, and beans, along with little caramel colored children remains. After the outreach to the Dominican is complete, I will be returning to the ship. In early March, I will fly to Benin and board the Mercy Ship once again. Benin, another extremely poor, West African country, is the 2009 Mercy Ship Outreach location. Benin is east of Liberia and shares its Western border with Togo and Eastern border with Nigeria. A few small facts about Benin; it is the birth place of Voodoo and the official language is French! I have also been asked to be a charge nurse upon my return. This role will be challenging for sure! My African adventures are just beginning and I am so thankful that all of you are in it with me. I love you and cherish you. I covet your prayers and support in every manner as I continue to serve our Lord. “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for ME will save it!” Luke 9:24 In His Hands and Will, Laura Ziulkowski