We have reached Liberia.

I was asleep and my roomate came in and said, "Hey look out your window." I looked out, expecting to see the blue-grey horizon over the cobalt sea - but instead. I saw the charred mast of a sunken ship pointing out of the ocean.

"Oh!" I said, and my roomate chuckled at how long I slept. "Liberia!"

I threw on some clothes and ran out to the deck to look around.

Tugboats were tugging (apparently they do that) our ship into the port. This port is much different than the dirty concrete jungle in Ghana. The water was cleaner, but every hundred yards or so, Remnants of old forgotten ships defiantly thrust themselves above the surface of the depths which had made itself their grave.

Waiting for us on the dock was one of the most touching sights I have ever seen in my life. It needs a little background information.

Liberia is a torn, broken, bruised nation. They just recently came out of a 14-year civil war, and the scars are deep and infected. When you look at a Liberian's face, you can see pain and sorrow etched into the wrinkles in their foreheads. You can tell that their mouths haven't had much reason to smile. Their eyes are the hardest part. In the depths of the two dark orbs, you can plainly see hurt and loss. This country is broken, the people are broken, the ships are broken, and their hearts are broken. Everyone has lost someone important to them to disease, anger, murder, abortion, or deportation.

When we pulled up to the dock, the celebration made my heart feel like bursting. Women and men of all ages jumped up and down and pointed at the ship. A microphone was passed around for different people to lead singing. The songs they sang were absolutely marinated in joy and praises. They were dancing with all their might because our ship had come to salvage what it could from this aching country.

Sometimes when one says that they had tears in their eyes, they mean that they were very touched and their eyes were a bit wet with emotion.

This is not what I am about to say.

The brilliant colors of all the clothes on the dock swam in my vision. The tears came uninvited and I was almost angry because they were obstructing my vision. God broke my heart right then. He opened it up, inserted Liberia, then carefully sutured the incision. I have never felt such a love for a country - not even my own.

As I looked out at the people waving and dancing and praising Jesus, it came to me that every single person down there on the dock had most likely lost someone. During the war, families were torn apart. People were deported all over Africa and put in camps riddled with disease and anger. Liberian rebels were slaughtered on the streets because of their political views.

Even though these people had lost so much and had hurt so badly, they still danced and sang and loved the same Jesus that I have in my heart.

This morning, there was a briefing for the crew about Liberia - practical stuff like how careful we have to be when we go off-ship, and what the culture is like here.

A woman that was the Mercy Ships representative in Liberia spoke to us about her country. Her voice became raspy with emotion as she explained how broken the country had become. Liberia is working so hard to rebuild and relearn everything, but there is so much more to do. During the war, school was no longer a safe option. Now, you see people of all ages going to school and learning elementary education. Young children under 12 are working in the streets because they need food for their families to survive.

As I listened to her talk, I felt helpless. We are only one ship. We can only save so many lives. We can only do so much. Liberia needs a miracle. I charge everyone that reads this to pray for Liberia. Please. It doesn't matter that I'm here working and you're at home or at work or whatever. My heart aches so badly for this battered country and I know that with prayer, miracles can happen. Be a warrior.





That is all.



EDIT: I worked on the MV ANASTASIS for 7 months. I left 3 weeks after I posted this blog. This is the reason for my purchase of The Captain's Dream Tshirt because the MV ANASTASIS was sent to India to be scrapped and sold for parts just shortly after I came back to America. I dream often of going back to my ship. Go to www.mercyships.org and check it out.