day 9. (the end is near)

Thank you so much to Mrs. Stanford for sewing and cutting this pillow craft for us! They are beautiful!

I have officially forgotten what it feels like to be cold. At night, the generator provides us with AC for the sleeping rooms, but sitting here in the living room feels sort of like being breathed on by an enormous animal: humid, sticky, and very hot. When my roommate wrote to me today that she was standing outside on New Year's Day and shivering, I had to mentally reposition myself on the planet for a second. I have grown accustomed to this previously unbearable heat for the most part, but occasionally I dream about the snow that could possibly be falling when I land back on Georgia soil. Sadly, if there was snow in Atlanta, they would probably halt all activity at every important location in the state, which would include the airport, which would leave me stranded in Chicago for several days. As much as I would love to build real snowmen with the Northern US snow, I can't wait to feel the South beneath my feet again.

Even as I'm typing I can hear Danielle telling some of the team that even though we have tried to be as African as possible during our stay here, we are far from actually assimilating into the complex and beautiful culture we have found here. I will miss the things that are a part of Liberia that do not come as naturally to the American people. There is a sense of family and community that is surprising and sweet no matter how often I have seen it in the last nine days. The children take care of each other, and of us, as though we were all sisters and brothers and not at all from completely different sides of the planet. Don't get me wrong, whiteness is a big deal here. Driving down the road, you can hear "white people! white people!" coming in from the open windows. But when I stood up from sitting in the grass today, one of the THINK girls just came up beside me and started to brush off the back of my pants, then tugged my shirt down into place when she was done. I don't know if you can see it the way I felt it, but I just met this girl 3 days ago and already I am her "sister." They do these things for us and for each other and I pray that they never lose that sweetness.

Anyway, today I was with Jeremiah, Brent, Amy, Jesse, and Florence at THINK. If you want to know what the rest of the team did, check out Lindi's blog at www.crazymissionsinliberia.blogspot.com.

I'd first just like to thank you for all of your sweet comments and much needed prayers. In the course of the last three days, we have seen changes in some of these kids that should have taken weeks. Every day is a new blessing and a new battle as we return to the JTC to minister to these children. Today in particular began on a victorious note because our friend and hostess Christine Tolbert Norman came to visit the Center to observe the tragedy that is taking place with the disabled children in particular. She tells us, and we understand, that this place is tragically one of the best places those kids could be living in. Most disabled babies are killed or thrown on the streets once the defect is recognized; it is grace on these babies' lives that they are still breathing. Still, it's not okay. Christine came to look and see the conditions of their circumstances, and her heart is so much for Jesus that I have to believe God could change their lives through her.

Or through us.

I keep thinking of Brooke Fraser's song called "Albertine." If you haven't heard it, it's worth finding it on youtube to hear it. The chorus proclaims,
"Now that I have seen, I am responsible. Faith without deeds is dead. Now that I have held you in my own arms..."

I wonder what Jesus would have us do besides just love these women and children the way we already are. Pray that he would reveal to us our part in His plan, and that He would help us to guard diligently against the guilt of having so much. It is difficult to imagine being home again, in a place so separate from where we will be leaving these precious faces that have captured our hearts. I was thinking today about how it would be to switch places with Praises, who is handicapped in many ways and is never taken down from her high chair for the entire duration of her normal day. My heart recoiled from the thought, even as I reached out to hold this little girl's hand. And yet, that's the kind of sacrifice Jesus made for me once. He found me in the most trapped and desperate and untouchable situation, and let me take His place of honor at the King's table. I can't even get my mind around that right now. Pray that Jesus would continue to sink His love and comfort deep into each of our hearts and spirits.

Anyway, as of now I am entirely exhausted and I will be awakening early again to go out for our last day of THINK. I do want to say first before I sleep that we spent a long time today sewing pillows to illustrate Psalm 4:8 ("I will lie down and sleep in peace; you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety"), and it was a blast. The girls are fantastic seamstresses, even the tiny ones, and they seemed to so enjoy having things that belong to them only. Many of them do not have pillows at all, and we managed to provide 50 for the JTC and safe-house combined. And they had fun doing it, thank God. There was some fighting over the supplies that we were giving, but ultimately I feel like things resolved well. Jesse did a fantastic job handling the bedlam, and I tried to be as involved as possible, but there were needles and thread flying everywhere like some kind of Sunday School siege. Well done, Jesse, for keeping your cool in the midst of chaos.

So, I have so much more to say but not enough energy to say it. Pray that God speaks to each of us on both of the split teams tomorrow morning before we ever leave the house. The Orphan Relief team gets outta here at 8 and we will be gone shortly thereafter... pray, pray, pray for the adults and children we will be working with. Pray for deep conversations and fruitful intercession. Pray for continued and increased unity over our team as a whole; patience is wearing thin as our time together comes to a close. Pray for spiritual and physical protection, for weather that we can handle, for supernatural energy to give everything that we have left to the children and adults we'll be with.

I love you all. Forgive me for my sleepiness. We will be home soon and you won't be able to stop these words from falling out of our hearts. More soon.

Annie