This was a special day for two little african children... my mother was proud. We were just hot. We could not communicate as we spoke different languages... but we liked each other anyway. Mother made us dresses to match just for this special day.
She was fierce... I was shy.... and we looked just alike in our dresses. We both had one thing in common we were both hungry. I wonder if she is still alive....
We are spending a quiet July 4th today....and I am thinking back to the best Independence Day celebration I can remember. It was when I was a child in Liberia West Africa. My brothers will remember this well.... We were invited to attend a special celebration of America's Independence Day at our Embassy. My family was all excited to get to see and talk to some Americans for a real break.
It was hot and sunny.... the party was held at the American Embassy outside on the green lawn. There was a live band playing happy american music, bright picnic tables set up on the lawn all dressed up in red, white and blue table cloths. The American Ambassador served REAL AMERICAN HOT DOGS WITH AMERICAN MUSTARD AND AMERICAN CATSUP AND AMERICAN PICKLES AND REAL AMERICAN POTATO CHIPS!! We were treated to special anthems and speeches... all Americans that were serving for various reasons in that African nation were honored and treated so well by our government.
And at the end.... REAL AMERICAN ICE CREAM!!! THIS WAS THRILLING TO US CHILDREN.
And when it got dark.... FIREWORKS WITH MUSIC!!
I was enthralled.... it was my first time to recognize that America was an awesome country and I was proud to be a little American. A day of firsts for me.... no food tastes like american food, no body can throw a party like americans and it made a deep impression on me. I felt that our government knew my family was alive and trying to help Africans and we felt their support that day.
It left a lasting mark... I'm proud to be an American. Did you know Americans all over the world really appreciate home on July 4th. And our Ambassadors that serve Americans around the world are needed and appreciated by each family too.
This is an actual tree that was cut down and carried out to our african village of Fassama- look how long it is! This is my little brother Regan who stood and watched as a 5 year old child. I remember the cowboy boots as hearing mother talk about about how hot they were on his little feet, but a preventive way to keep him safe from possible deadly snake bites.
The trees in Liberia were untouched then..... I wonder if they are still tall and lovely now. Or has the modern world ruined these awesome beauties on earth.
Words cannot really express how life was for us as children in the bush of West Africa. It's best told as single events that happened. Each one of us experienced this incredible time in our lives in personal ways that can only really be told by each one of us. All four of us remember different things... One of my personal memories was a miracle that happened to the four of us one night.
After moving to Monrovia we lived in a house that seemed to be the right place for children to safely be raised. Three bedrooms - I had my own room (closest to the front area of the house) my brothers all stayed in the same little bedroom down the hall, and my parents had their bedroom at the very end of the hall. One night while all were asleep a thief broke into our house and robbed us.
In Liberia thieves commonly take their clothing off and pour oil all over their skin. (so if someone should catch them it would be impossible to hold on to them and they would escape easily) He came into the house and into my bedroom, naked and dripping in smelly oil. He came to my bedside searching for anything of value. He emptied my little special box on the bed right to my head. Oil dripped down on the sheets as he bent over trying to see what he could take. The little 8 year old golden haired girl asleep right there at his mercy. He could have stolen me in the night, the thoughts of what could have happened that night troubling. Yet I was untouched and deeply asleep. I never felt his actions next to me, but the oily sheets were proof of his actions that night.
He then crept down the hallway and entered my brothers room, leaving trails of dirty oil along the floor. Finding nothing and leaving each little boy unharmed he went to the door of our parents room - finding it locked he then went to the living room and proceeded to take everything he could find. Oily marks were all that remained of our precious few belongings. We lost our 'missionary equipment' that night.
Except our precious lives.... he could not touch our precious lives. Thank you God.
My Dad is one of the pioneer missionaries who went to Africa in the 60's - before Bibles were printed in the languages of the native people. His determination, drive, and the sheer force of his will warred against spiritual darkness and literally shoved the door open in West Africa for thousands to find salvation. It was tough and very very difficult for him as a preacher. This picture of him preaching in a village is one of the very few precious pictures that survived The Fire. He sacrificed, worked from sun up to sundown 7 days a week. He never took a day off....but felt his time was limited and should be spent building, preaching, singing, working, teaching, mentoring, correcting, showing, talking, praying, digging, laying rock, preaching, shouting, sharing..... over and over for years and years.
It took hard, tough, mean, craggy, rough years to plow the ground in the hearts of Africans in the 60's. Today the harvest is reaped all over Africa because of missionaries just like my Dad who plowed the hardened ground first. Softening the hearts to hear and be set free....
He is one of the rugged real men of God who gave his all so that others could hear the Gospel.
If you are a missionary reading this today.... take heart- you are one of God's Private Forces in the earth. Thank God for you!
My Dad I am thinking of you today and praying for you!!
The adjustment of cooking in a very tiny space has been a challenge to me. Two burners... till our remodeling gets complete in our house.
I have learned how to juggle and make complete meals... after a while one does get the hang of doing this. Talking with my mother about my temporary cooking arrangements -she and I remembered a difficult cooking arrangement she had to deal with in Africa. When I was a girl, right after we left the jungle of Liberia and moved to the capital city of Monrovia- she had no stove to cook on. With a hungry husband and 4 'starving' kids all the time- her time was spent constantly trying to keep us all fed. How did she do it without a stove?
She had a old popcorn cooker (obviously I can't show you the orginal one) but it looked something like this...
And she had a worn out electric skillet. That's it. Every meal she had to figure out how to cook for 6 people in these two small appliances. How many different meals did we have? Spam fried... spam scrambled... spam (cooked in the skillet) stewed with tomatoes (cooked in the popcorn popper)....spam patties (skillet) with onions (corn popper)... the spam was always warmed up in one and what ever we had to put with it in the other. Neither one of us could remember exactly when she did get a stove...eventually she did. But she managed to keep us all fed with her popcorn popper and her electric skillet until that happened.
Never ignore missionary needs... you never know what they are really dealing with. Missionaries don't complain- they simple hold their heads up, stubbornly find a way to keep going.... many times on a wing and a prayer. And their sacrifices pay off in eternal souls and rewards that are laid up for them someday in Heaven. But their needs are often only known by God.
My mother will enjoy the Marriage Supper of the Lamb when she does gets Home.... her personal sacrifices have reserved a place for her at the Table. No spam for her, no popcorn popper, no electric skillet, no more limitations and going without anymore.... ever again!
I have absolutely nothing to say about my little two burner stove except... 'thank you Lord' in a very tiny small voice.
Another experience that deeply imprinted my DNA to help hungry children in .... Moms Against Hunger. I still remember being hungry myself.
The rapture of the Church is at hand...... are YOU ready?
All prophecy has been fulfilled.... the world is now covered with the Gospel via the Internet.
The most Awesome Day in all of mankind is about to happen.
What do you need to do to prepare to hear the Trumpet, when Jesus will come to receive his own? To be sure you go with Him when Trumpet sounds?
GIVE YOUR HEART TO JESUS, ASK FOR THE FORGIVENESS OF YOUR SINS, BE BAPTIZED, FIND A SOLID BIBLE CHURCH TO ATTEND, SINCERELY BEGIN TO SERVE THE LORD, FOLLOW THE LEADERSHIP OF THE HOLY SPIRIT, AND OBEY THE WORD OF GOD.
Everything in this world seems to be designed to distract, hinder, side track, and even stop believers from watching and waiting for this Day.
But it will surely come..... it will surely come.
Are YOU ready?
Come walk with me down a road in Zimbabwe in my memories. We are headed to a orphanage that is unique in nature. It has orphaned children and elderly destitute people living together here. Together they provide support for each other - the older teach the younger about life, and the responsibilities of growing up. And the young children teach the elder to love, and provide the arms and legs for the work daily.
People that had been thrown away find Jesus in this humble place together.
Children who have suffered the loss of their parents usually through the suffering of Aids, find their way to comfort in the arms of the older.
Setting together getting ready for devotions each day, everyone arrives to set on the logs or the dirt itself. t's quiet here, a cool breeze sweeps through, birds sing overhead and their voices of prayer are lifted in the outside atmosphere calling on God for daily bread.
Greeting us with gifts we all rejoiced at being together again. Simple gifts for us and our acts of kindness for them, our mutual love for each other was obvious.
This little building is the morgue here. When someone dies the others place the body in here and lock the door awaiting authorities to come and take it. Once a elderly man died and he was placed in here and locked away as was the custom. The next day when devotion time came, banging and kicking and shouts could be heard from the little building. At first fear came on the others listening, but then they recognized his voice so joyfully they opened the door and let him out! He had come back to life while they were all praying......
Setting here with the women. we share smiles, and the pure joy of being together again. What is so great about setting here in seemingly abject poverty? These people while suffering greatly have learned to cherish small joys in life, they have a freedom from modern pressures, stresses and anxieties, they share each other's life, the value of God in ones heart, and His close Presence all around. This ...... is a richness that those who live on the other side of the world experience daily.
Today I walk back to this place in my mind and remember all of these people. They live far back in the bush country, and I wonder if they will eat today. Soon we will begin a campaign to raise the funds for distribution and travel expenses as we head back to Zimbabwe representing Moms Against Hunger. And we will experience the joy again of giving to people who will greatly benifit from the food and provisions shipped to them.
We are coming Zimbabwe.....
I will tell you more later...
