Days 1-8 have been, quite honestly, very simple for me because I am - by nature - a purger. I do not like to hold on to things, for the most part. I will share embarrassing proof of my de-cluttering... but, for now you will have to take my word for it, because I wanted to kick off this project with a little perspective, which my friend Melissa was manhandled into giving happily agreed to offer. I will let her tell you her story, but here is what you need to know about Melissa:
- She's the best.
- She's smarter than you.
- Don't worry, you aren't alone, she's smarter than all of us. Maybe combined.
- She is humble and generous and amazing.
- She might look like she hated posing for this engagement-style photo of the two of us, but she actually has it in an 8x10 above her mantle.
Without further ado... I give you, Sweet Melissa.
--
Greetings from Freetown, Sierra Leone. It is perfectly fair to say that baby
Jaylen’s arrival was the catalyst to my friendship with Lara, but as a
childhood friend of Tom I knew of Lara’s blog and was an admirer of her
writings for years - so it’s cool to be able to say a few things on here as a
little contributor and not simply be known as the
girl who hates kindness.
**warning - this post
is gonna get a little intense. But I
know you can handle it.**
I send you well wishes from this vibrant country where the
only things more beautiful than the landscape are the people. I was shocked at how gorgeous this place is
with its rainbow of scenery -- a dance
for the eyes. Red clay roads along white
beaches hugging sapphire pacific waves with green palm-covered hills jetting
out the sandy coastline. There isn’t a
single window with a bad view. Also
Sierra Leoneans are ridiculously attractive. I told my friends I’m surprised there aren’t modeling scouts here on a
regular basis because wow. And almost
every night I stand on my hotel balcony, and pray, and watch the sun go down
because this happens
and this happens
Although this place could be paradise – it is not
paradise. Sierra Leone has suffered
through years of war, exploitation, corruption, and disease. Only 35% of the people can read. There is limited access to healthcare. Education is meager. Jobs are scarce. And the people are poor – very poor.
…and now…Ebola.
Although good work is being done here the infection numbers
are still on the rise because these people were already so vulnerable and the
region so challenged. I told Lara a
couple weeks ago that she should use her powers for good and tell America to
stop freaking out over Ebola. It was
infuriating to see what I see here, to hear what I hear here, and then turn on
BBC and watch another story about the Ebola panic machine taking over the
United States. That unjustified terror
was affecting aid relief here in West Africa and even now is rippling with unfortunate
consequences. So let me simply and
lovingly say that I’ve been here for a month and I don’t have Ebola - and you
won’t get it either.
Ok scolding moment over.
I’m here in Freetown working with the U.S. Embassy in their
public affairs/communications office.
Yesterday we conducted a program for the sowie population about Ebola
and how to prevent transmission. Sowies
are women tribal leaders who are influential in their communities and are often
sought after during times of illness or death. Seventy percent of Ebola transmission cases here are due to unsafe
burial practices so we had to educate the sowies on how to care for their
community without performing traditional burial duties.
Sowies are lively and colorful and are generally older
members of society. But I noticed a lot
of younger women and made a remark to my colleague about one in particular,
“Marilyn, did you see that one? She was
so young. She looked like she was 12.”
“Did you see she wasn’t wearing shoes?”
“No.” I said.
“She doesn’t have any shoes.”
And that’s all I could think about for the rest of the
day.
I just kept repeating that over and over in my head. “She doesn’t have any shoes.”
Ok - I live in New York City and sadly am no stranger to
poverty or passing a neighbor who lives on my street….literally….on the street.
But I was so consumed by the Ebola prevention training that
I didn’t even notice she wasn’t wearing shoes.
People. I’m only here
in Sierra Leone for about a month. And I
brought 9 pairs of shoes with me. Three
pairs of heels, three flats, one pair of rugged hiking shoes, one pair of
sneakers, and one pair of flip flops.
“She didn’t have any shoes.”
Even writing that now makes my stomach clench and my chest
tight and my eyes water and yet I still have 9 pairs of shoes strewn about the
floor of my hotel room.
There was a similar moment a few weeks ago that sent me into
that same soul spin which I wrangled Lara into when I sent her this
picture
Lara asked if they were playing and I said no, “they’re
collecting drinking water from the ground.
Look closely.”
“I was afraid of that,” she said.
I couldn’t get those little ones out of my head. I told Lara
that I stood on the balcony of my nice hotel that night and sobbed like an
infant because I felt like such an ass. Here I am, up here with my ocean
view - and there you are, little ones, with your puddles of drinking water.
That image also had an effect on our faithful blogger
because the following day Lara sent me this message, “Our texting was very convicting
to me last night. Which is what I
needed. I am in that mode where I am
exhausted, and drained emotionally, and just feeling done. And it makes me want to go to Jamaica. And I really mean that. I believe I NEED to go on a vacation. REALITY CHECK: I need clean water. Check.”
I know the next segment of posts from Lara will focus on the
“stuff” in our lives. And knowing Lara
I’m sure she will touch on all the different layers of stuff that we pile
up. There’s the stuff that clutters up
our homes and makes us reluctant to let guests in. And there’s the stuff that clutters up the
deepest recesses of our hearts that makes us VERY reluctant to let Jesus in.
But maybe if Jesus had access to those deepest darkest
mustiest places in our hearts -- maybe we wouldn’t be so unnecessarily fearful (about
Ebola in the U.S. or life in general), maybe we wouldn’t be so obsessively, and often times
unknowingly, materialistic (about shoes or life in general),
maybe we would have wisdom to know how to be good stewards
of what we’ve been given in this world (so babies don’t have to drink rainwater off
the street), maybe we could be more like some of the people I met here in
Sierra Leone. They would give you the
shirt off their back, and for some of them it would be their only shirt.
Matthew 25:34-36 Then the king will say to those at his
right hand, "Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom
prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you
gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a
stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick
and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me."
Ok that was a really heavy post so I’m gonna conclude with
this picture because a woman with a head full of maxi pads is awesome and needs
to be shared with the world.
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