Home visits

Today I finally felt like I was in Liberia, Africa.

Walking down a muddy, red road. Rain pouring above and splashing below me. Noticeably the only white woman in sight. Following my Liberian friends to home after home of orphans that need our help. Orphans like Joseph.

So I ducked to enter through the doorway of Joseph's home. It was dark and damp inside. The walls were put together with scrap slabs of wood. Strong sticks hold up the roof from many different angles. Have you ever wondered if thatch roofs hold up in the rain? Driving through Africa, and looking at pictures, I have wondered that. Well today I can tell you that they don't. Their roof is leaking in too many places to count. Leaking on their few items of clothing. On the old box spring the entire family uses as a bed. On their food. A river of water leads our way to the small room where Joseph's aunt lay. "She sick", the children tell us.

Joseph's mother died giving birth and his father abandoned him. So his aunt is his caregiver and that of at least 5 other children. She's been sick for a long time and hasn't received any medical care. She waited for the doctor, but he couldn't see her and therefore, she hasn't received any medicine. Her legs are as thin as my arms. Her face shows how weak she feels. I wish there was something I could do to tangibly help her. But we're visiting to help Joseph today.

So we begin asking her questions and find out that Joseph will be graduating from school on July 13th. Praise God! He is 10 years old and has completed one more year's worth of class. We are there to ensure that his school fees will indeed be paid again for next fall. We are also there to see if he needs any medical attention - which he does and we make note of. Hoping to provide that soon.

Joseph stands in front of us wearing an oversized woman's shirt. I would have guessed he was about 7. I shake his little hand - giving him a good snap at the end. He smiles because he didn't expect it from the white woman. I admit - I got lucky on that one.

After much talking, we tell Joseph's aunt that we are so sorry about her sickness and that we will be praying for her. I pray for her silently as we sit side by side. My friends continue to encourage her in Liberian English which I don't quite understand yet. She smiles. I know that my friends have just made her day.

So we must walk away. I realize that I have brought nothing of material value to leave behind - not even a few LD (Liberian dollars) to give for the bananas and coconuts the children offer me. Oh how inexperienced. But I give them my smile and again my white hand. The children laugh with me and I promise myself I will pray for them.

HOPE: Joseph is going to school. He is being visited on a regular basis by women who care about his family very much. He will soon receive a mosquito net to help keep him healthy. He is in my and perhaps even your prayers today. This is all by the grace of God.

I know that our Lord has not forgotten about Joseph or the other children I met today. I trust our Lord's promise that "He so loved the world, that he gave his one and only son, that whosoever believes in Him, shall not perish, but have eternal life." Meaning - every person, every child on this earth - has true, everlasting hope.

Not so ironically, I was reminded of this verse by another Joseph a few days ago. He was also an orphan. He bravely escorted me to the market and he recited John 3:16 after singing me many sweet songs. Another beautiful child of God.

I think to myself ... if my heart breaks for them ... how much more my Father must love them.

(Joseph is not the actual name of these boys.)