Another's Words

I’m lying in my bed. It’s 11:13pm. The day has been long. I rose early with the sun and prayed with Sandy, a faithful friend of mine, leaving for India in a few weeks. The ship’s mandatory Tuesday gathering started at 7:45, lasting ¾ of an hour. Work immediately followed. Today was training day. My title will change from “HR assistant” to “HR Operations Facilitator”. This is basically a fancy term for a much more important job. I’m intimidated. Please pray. Training is stressful and requires much of my effort. I sit in the chair beside Cristin, watching as she shows me her routine I must learn to imitate before the week’s end. I struggle to listen. I feel like a little girl. I sit in my chair, nodding my head attentively, my eyes glancing from her to the clock. My leg vibrates as my body is anxious for a visit to the snack bar. I glance over to Steven’s desk for some relief of the mundane. He doesn’t see me. My day proceeded with this anxiety. When the clock read 5pm, I was grateful. I printed emails from home, gathered them up, and headed to my cabin. I read the heartfelt and encouraging words of my asian sister and my dear friend, Jack. I caught some shut-eye after that.

This past week I struggle to find a story to tell you. I struggle for substance that will inspire my writing. Today Sam wrote his weekly newsletter to his supporters back home and I was privileged to read it. I have decided to post it here for you to read. Take a break from me for a few minutes and read what Sam has to say about this ship. His words and discoveries; his experiences and descriptions, are exactly what I have desired for you to hear but have struggled to put into words. So hear them from him. Be blessed by the words of Sam Belz. I sure was.


"Today is election day in Liberia. October’s election reduced the fifty original candidates down to two for a second round of voting—George Weah and Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf. George Weah is the common man’s man. He earned international fame and money through his soccer career at Milan and Chelsea in Europe. And to prove his genuine concern for the welfare of Liberia, he gave away most of his money to the people, even before they considered him for the presidency. He is young, honest and specially appeals to the young men, the former combatants. The ‘’bookmen,’’ as they call them here, scorn Weah for his lack of education. (He dropped out of school when he was sixteen.) He is one of the natives by blood, not descended from the advantaged American slaves of the middle 1800’s. That quickly classes him with 90% of the country. He is, to the people, one of them.

Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf looks a little like Janet Reno. I have heard that both Christians and women are her biggest supporters. The rich like her too. She went to Harvard and worked for the World Bank and the UN. But Liberia is weary of only the semblance of worth and not substance in their leaders. Charles Taylor himself is an Ivy Leaguer, but none of that matters if the shepherds of the people won’t go and guard and nourish the flock. Ellen stumbles at one major point. Years ago, she worked for Charles Taylor. Liberians won’t forget that.

Whomever Liberia elects, let it not be the man or woman that this country deserves. Let a king David reign, who will execute judgment and justice to all his people. May God bare his mighty arm, and make all things new, that all the earth would see his might. Let sinners see that righteousness exalts a nation.

Anyway, Saturday, Mercy Ship doctors and nurses screened patients for surgery at JFK hospital. On the same day, though, George Weah hosted a big rally downtown near the hospital. So the captain held back most of the non-medical crew from going. I awoke Saturday, not at all expecting to go. Not only did I have to work in the galley, but I hadn’t signed up, and teenagers weren’t allowed to go. Triply barricadoed! Downstairs I read my Bible and just as I finished, the captain announced ten open spots. I ran upstairs, met Walter Fuhrer, chief steward of the galley, at the door, who made a quick phone call, and Chris Guillebeau rallied me down the gangway. I jumped into the back of the last land-rover as it slowly pulled out. I surprised myself with the turn of events.

The streets were full of people. I saw youngsters, with their whole bodies dangling out of speeding jeeps, cheering, with George Weah posters on their faces and bodies. One bare-chested youth said (It was told me), ‘’We are gonna put Ellen in the kitchen, and she gonna cook for George.’’ As we got near the hospital, chilling nerves hit me, not unlike the morning of the Cono relays at Coe College, as I would prepare my legs for the mile run. Long lines of people with wide-wasting diseases stood outside the hospital. I settled on a prayer group, which prayed for people that Mercy Ships couldn’t help.

One woman came to us with her toddler son. He could hear but he couldn’t speak. While the women prayed with her, I took the boy on my shoulders. We walked all over the hospital courtyard. He was timid at first. He clutched my face with his sweaty infant hands. I bounced him on my knee and gave him a balloon. Still no sound from his lips. Finally, I took them both to the exit out of the hospital. As they walked away, the boy turned his head to me and his face was beaming. It was a hot day, but there was thick shade where we prayed. I played with some boys, who were rolling a home-made toy, called a ‘’whee.’’ I laid my hands on a man with a very gently throbbing neck tumor. It was a very successful, peaceful screening.

Pray for courage to get involved with the people. Not just for me, but also for Cully and Sienna. The ship is a padded refuge. It would be easy to stay here all the time. On the ship, just days ago, the captain opened up the laundry room for crew laundry. I washed and folded my clothes and sheets and towels for the first time since we left Cape Town. It was wonderful. Yesterday the heat made even the air conditioned spots on the ship uncomfortable. I shunned the heat, and sheltered in a cool linen closet. I got a lot of reading done. Cockroaches and their loathed intrusion are around every corner, on every surface."