day 1, day 2.

Hello friends, parents, loved ones, and curious onlookers—we are still alive.

Wifi wasn’t working last night, and I’m sorry for the short delay, but I wanted to catch you up a little bit on what’s happened on our first full day. So far the effects of the African environment on our Georgian bodies have been survivable, but definitely unfamiliar. There was a moment this morning when we all looked down at our toes and could barely recognize them for the swelling. Kayla and I spent some time trying to shove our fat feet into our Chacos, then burst into laughter at the sight of them. Tonight, a couple of the girls are puzzling over the spotty heat rash on their arms—a result of our overwhelmed bodies trying to cope with the 100% humidity we’ve stepped into. More seriously, some have had stomach pains or digestive issues, and over all of this we ask for your prayers. Side effects of traveling 30 hours across the planet can be both humorous and horrible—I’ll try to keep you up to date on those.

Yesterday was our resting day, and yet it was a whirlwind of experiences that I have no idea how I’m going to convey. We walked down the road early in the day, led by our guide Florence, to meet some of the families who live near the compound. That was a fantastic way to start the way. Children who are too young to have ever seen a white person before were sprinting from our presence, screaming and with tears in their eyes. Not exactly a welcoming party. On the other hand, some of the older kids were happy to meet and greet us, and Jeremiah and Dimitri made fast friends with their soccer (football!) skills.

Later we traveled over an hour away to Marshall, an important location in the history of Liberia. We stood with our feet in the sand where freed American slaves had landed during the abolition process, trying to take it all in. Really, the most marking thing about Marshall to me was the lifestyle of the people who are there. Children chased us through the streets wearing mostly nothing, their bellies rounded and jutting out from malnutrition. We played with them by the ocean, trying to break the communication barriers with laughter and silliness. Even though most people here speak Liberian English, the dialect is so unique that it is nearly another language itself, and so it can be difficult for us to fully comprehend one another. When I sat down in the sand, though, and started to bury the feet of three little boys, an unspoken welcomeness was there that just made me want to dance! Eventually, they were all burying my feet and laughing hysterically as I pretended to be stuck forever. We never spoke, but we did play. That seems to be the pattern so far.

It struck me as we walked back across the bridge into the village that while we would travel back to our compound and fill our bellies with beautiful Liberian food, these people would stay in their world, and what could I do to change that world? We are told not to think of ourselves as teachers, but as the ones who are coming to learn. I’m struggling to settle into that mentality—I know that there is hope for Liberia, even if we have to leave without seeing it happen before our eyes. Dimitri said during our debrief the other night, “I need to believe that there is hope for Liberia before I tell these people that there is hope. I can see it now.”

What wisdom. Pray that we all see it, and that we bring hearts full of it to the people that we meet.

Today, we went to Greater Love Bible Baptist Church, where Pastor Wesley has opened a radio station and medical clinic in addition to the church itself. While the rest of the team lifted concrete blocks for the security wall being built around the church, Dimitri, Amy and myself were asked to take a field trip to the recording studio. We spent about an hour there recording promo messages for the church that will be on the radio sometime in the near future. Dimitri so kindly informed Pastor Wesley that I am a singer, thereby entitling me to a number 1 spot on the Liberian charts. I came up with a jingle on the spot and we recorded it then and there—after I convinced my voice to stop shaking. It was nerve wracking, but fun. At least I wasn’t hauling concrete, right? :)

We spent most of the rest of the day there at Greater Love, hanging out with the wonderful people there and playing with the kids in the street. The graciousness of our hosts here in Liberia continues to overwhelm us completely—there is no end to the good food and luxury that they pour out on us. They thank us often, and it’s humbling to think how truly we ought to be grateful to them. We do say thank you often, but I pray that gratitude would overwhelm our hearts in ways we have not yet seen or felt.

I’m sorry there are so few pictures for you to see... believe me, we are taking them! The wifi is such a luxury here, but it’s not quite speedy enough to really get many pictures through. Sorry, too, that this is so long. For those of you who like to skip to the end, here are the main things you should know...

- We are still overwhelmed by things we see, but are trying to jump in and get involved with the people in spite of our uncertainties.

- We are healthy, busy, and having a great time.

- There aren’t actually any mosquitoes during the day... stop worrying, Mom.

- Jet lag is wearing off, but still difficult. I took a nap today because I was so exhausted in the afternoon, but I may not sleep tonight. Pray for our bodies to adjust to our environment with supernatural speed.

- Everyone has had an “experience” so far. Meaning, everyone has a story to tell. Pray that the voice of God comes through free and clear across the thick African air and into our startled hearts—we need Him so deeply always. Pray that each of us finds time to be alone with Him every day.

And pray that we would be attentive to His voice, protected by His presence, surrendered to His heart for the people we meet.

Thank you for your prayers, for the comments left on the last entry, and for reading this lengthy post if you’re still here! It’s 12:13AM here and I need to be asleep soon. Tomorrow we’re going to the market and then party-hopping all day for New Years Eve! Imagine a New Year welcomed in with a deep breath of hot, humid air and the thick beat of Liberian music pounding in the background. Sounds right to me...

Happy New Year!

arrival!

We made it!

Currently, I am sitting in the host home where we will be staying for the next 10 days. Yes, I am finally on Liberian soil! After 30 hours worth of travel and transit, it feels wonderful to be at our destination rather than going towards it. Thank you for all of your prayers over our transportation--I'm not sure I'll be able to fully convey how much it means to know that we're covered so thoroughly, all the time. And believe me, we need it! Let me catch you up on the last 24 hours.

Immediately after the last blog was written, our plane was in the gate. Finally. The flight across the Atlantic went smoothly, excepting the fact that most of us hardly slept a wink, and we were still behind schedule due to the 2 hour delay. Upon our arrival in Brussels, we were told to run (yes, run) to the T69 gate if we wanted to avoid the 2 day wait for the next Monrovia flight. Security lines were long. Two of us got searched, for unknown reasons. When finally we were all released, things were absolutely down to the wire. We stood waiting in the empty gate, praying that God would somehow get us through. The plane was loaded, but there must have been fifteen others standing with us, wondering if we should start booking our 2 day stay in Belgium. Finally, the attendant looked at us and said "I'm not going to give you boarding passes... the gate is telling me to just let you through."

So, looking at each other in amazed relief, we boarded our plane. Just like that. Thank you God!

Even more amazing, perhaps, is that every single piece of our luggage came through, when only a few days ago, some of our teammates who came early didn't get a single bag. Thank you, again!

Now it is 11:32PM Liberia time, and we have all been fed a very gracious meal by our hosts, and are off to bed. Pray for our sleep, as we are time-zone disoriented, and also because it is so unbelievably hot here. I can't wait to tell you more about the country itself... I've been here only a few hours, and already my mind can't wrap itself around what I've heard and seen.

Love from Liberia (finally!),

Annie

The Waiting Game

I wish I could show you where I am right now. It’s nothing special really—bright blue carpet shielding concrete floors, rows of bench seating and sleepy people—but it just seems like how the beginning of a journey should feel. We’ve made it to the Chicago O’Hare airport, which means we have about 2 of our 18 hours of flying out of the way. A daunting amount of travel lies ahead of us, currently held out of our reach by the 2 hour delay on our connecting flight to Belgium. We arrived here around 2PM (Central), and continue to find ways to stay busy (and awake) until our flight at (tentatively) 7:10PM.

I guess that’s where the adventure feeling is coming from—something has already thrown a wrench in our plans. A 2 hour delay is, granted, not a big deal at all in the grand scheme of a 24 hour trip, but something about our whole team wandering around the infinite clusters of terminals and food courts has been more fun than just jumping from one flight to another. It’s a bonding experience, at the very least! Here are some glimpses of what’s happened so far...

PHOTOS!

photos by Amy Lyford

So, that’s the update for now. Thank you for keeping up with us already. Getting through security and all the technical details of our travels have been perfectly smooth so far—thank you God! We’ll just be playing cards and reading books and trying not to fall asleep until further notice.

Pray that we’ll be able to get this Belgiam plane in time to make it to our Monrovia flight at 12PM Brussels time (6AM Eastern, 7AM Central). Pray for patience with one another as we get sleepier and sleepier along the way, and pray that God would speak His purposes into each of our heart. It can be easy to get lost in to world of transit and forget the One whose love compels us; pray that He would minister to and through us even as we wait.

We love you all and I am so grateful for your prayers. When people tell me how admirable it is that I am going to be a missionary in Africa, I can’t help but think that really I am being given an enormous gift. To me, there is nobility in your steadfast support and prayers for this team. We know that God will shake everything that can be shaken when we pray—thank you for going before Him on our behalf! Can’t wait to tell you more as more takes place.

Love from Chicago,

Annie

anticipation.

Right now I am living in one of the best moments of the 365 days it takes us to get around the sun: Christmas eve- technically Christmas now, at 1:18AM- in the moments when I know the only thing left between me and tomorrow morning is a few hours of happy sleep. I've had more than my fill of the Chinese food that is tradition for my family every year, and I'm listening to the sleepy sound of rain outside my window. For me, this is sweet. Downstairs, there are people that love me and dogs that make me laugh, presents being wrapped and pies baking in the oven... does it get much better than this?

And yet something about the rain that is almost cold enough to be snow, the soft sound of it in the darkness, reminds me that there are so many people who aren't where I am. It hurts to think about it- how deep is the need in this world, and how many people are alone. Pray for the first one that comes to your mind as you read this... the lonely, or the sick, or the ones who have very little of very simple things: warmth, food, love.

I feel so rich in these Christmas Eve moments, anticipating even more of this goodness when I wake up in a few hours. For a couple of days now, Christmas has finally seemed to overshadow the preparations for our departure on the 27th. Until this week, it just seemed like December was being devoted to the list of things to do and prayers to pray before the end of the month. Now, it seems like the two events are happily co-existing, filling my heart with perhaps more anticipation than I know how to contain. Can all of this really be happening already?

On Saturday morning, our team came together along with some family and close friends to pray. How amazing to think that we had been in the same place only two weeks before, asking God to supply the thousands of dollars needed to make the trip possible! Our time together was so sweet and encouraging- and such a reminder of how close we are to take-off. Everything about this process of preparation has been unprecedentedly beautiful. Who I am this December is so much more alive and full of faith than the same time twelve months ago. I am grateful, and so thrilled, to be who and where I am right now, and I hope that all my team members could say the same.

That said, WE LEAVE ON SUNDAY. Here are some thoughts for your prayers...

Everyone should be starting their malaria medication by now. It seems like it's impossible to find one that doesn't have undesirable side effects of some kind, but pray that we would be the anomalous group of people who experience none whatsoever.

Luggage loss is unfortunately fairly common in the kind of international transit that we're going to be experiencing (or so I've heard). Pray that every bag makes it through along with every body!

We'll be in the sky for about 20 hours total, providing there are no delays in the air (in which case, longer); pray for safe travels and trustworthy pilots!

And pray that each of us would be attentive to the voice of the Holy Spirit in us, keeping our hearts in line with His. It can be so easy to become very "me-oriented" when you're tired, hot, hungry, frazzled, or just sick of airports. Pray for unity of heart and mind and mission.

That's all for now! More will be coming very soon. I will be updating daily from the 27th through the 9th (providing that wifi is working well the whole time), so keep checking back to know what we're doing and how to pray. :)

just like Christmas!

Hello all! The last week has been filled with so many stories that would all be worth recounting here. Honestly, it is amazing to see what God has done. Since I have the privilege of being the primary blog author for this team, I'm giving you a full account of my experience from the last few days, but please know that there are dozens more where this came from. If you are on one of the missions teams, and you've got something to say, feel free to use the comment space to let everyone know your story as well. As for me, it went something like this...

We were sitting around a kitchen table last Sunday night when the numbers came in; maybe I was the only one, but there was tension in my hands as I unfolded the slip of paper I had been given. A month before, I had seen God pour in the hundreds of dollars needed to cover my airfare in just one week, bringing the grand total of my support to $2,446. Since then, letters had been written, prayers had been prayed—over a thousand dollars would need to come in for me to be in the clear, to know that I’d be boarding that plane to Africa in three short weeks. Hope rose within me and glimmered quietly behind my fear, waiting to see what I knew to be true: God is faithful, and He hears my prayers.

When I let my eyes fall to the number in front of me, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Everything happened in a moment; I don’t think anyone saw me flinch. Not a single new name had been added to the list—$2,446, printed in bold in the middle of the page, felt impossible in so many ways. The final deadline, I was told later on, was 2PM on Monday—the next day. Less than 24 hours away.

I quietly sank into my thoughts, realizing for the first time what it would mean if $1,000 didn’t land on my doorstep in the next 17 hours. Five months of preparation had been filled with more than I could have expected or known when I asked to be a part of a missionary team to Liberia, Africa. My heart swelled to think about it then, knowing that it could have been for nothing, that all my plans could be so easily changed. I looked around at the faces of my teammates, a steady stream of prayer and petition rising suddenly up out of my heart, and felt peace begin to take root where panic could have been. I knew then that somehow it didn’t matter what happened in the hours that were ahead of me—God’s heart toward me had not changed. I understood suddenly what it meant to have nothing to offer and everything to ask, and yet I was not afraid.

Walking out of the meeting that night marked the start of a whirlwind that consumed us—hundreds of missionaries and praying hearts—for the next 24 hours. I was not the only one in debt; tens of thousands of dollars were needed to fill the financial gap for every person on the four teams that had been assembled, and all under the pressure of the same rapidly approaching deadline. The hour that I drove back to my dorm was filled with the sound of my prayers and urgent phone calls rallying people to intercede.

To our amazement and delight, as we prayed, things began to happen. Empty-pocketed college students were finding the means needed to conquer financial giants, watching with astounded eyes as miracles fell all around them to the distinct sound of victory. I stood by in celebration, wondering when these wonders would land in my lap.

On Monday morning, my heart was filled with something I couldn’t quite explain—the steady glow of hope and anticipation as I waited with my hands open to see what God would do that day. And like a kid before Christmas, the waiting grew tiresome to my spirit. God can, I told myself, refusing to wonder what would happen if He didn’t.

At 1:40 in the afternoon, I stepped outside to walk and pray. My heart was quiet within me as I slowly covered the two-mile sidewalk that wraps around my school. By the time I set foot back on campus, though I didn’t know it yet, my prayers had been answered. With fifteen minutes left until the deadline, nearly a thousand dollars had arrived into the missions office with my name on it. I was told later that it came so quickly and from so many directions that the effect was overwhelming—much like how I felt when I found out that I was, definitely and without a doubt, fully provided for.

In the hours following 2 o’ clock, even the smallest remaining amount had been paid in full, not only for me but for every single person who had come up short only the evening before. In response to this news, celebration reverberated like a hallelujah chorus through the souls of hundreds who had waited and prayed. At church the next day, I found myself leaping or shouting or victory dancing in nearly all of my conversations; the eyes of so many shone with the joy of watching God’s hands move. It is a feeling like no other.

I wrote in my journal this morning, “It’s not knowing that I’m going to Africa that makes me want to dance—although that gets more thrilling by the day—it’s knowing and seeing that God heard me...”

Beth Moore said this of Him: “In the midnight hour or when you least expect it, God can turn it all around.” He can, and He will.

“How can I repay the Lord for all His acts of kindness to me? I will celebrate my deliverance and call on the Name of the Lord.” Psalm 116: 12-13, NLT.