Leaving Sierra Leone, was by far the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I have cried often today just thinking about what to say for this post. Reliving each one of these very moments in Sierra Leone. Lori, one of the ladies who traveled with me and has now become like a big sister to me wrote this about Leaving Africa and I really feel this sums up every feeling I went thru returning home:
Leaving Africa
It doesn’t take long after the chaos from the Freetown Airport settles for that lump in my chest to slowly move to my throat. Just 15 minutes ago my mind was racing with standing in long lines wondering if I can get my bags on the belt back to the United States…and oh where did I pack my bug repellant because it is not even air conditioned in here as we wait for the man to process all 14 pass ports…and really who knows if I even took my Malaria pills anyway? I say all of that because there is a mosquito and that bite on my leg might the one thing that triggers this flood gate of emotion I have been holding since I left the center. NOPE, I keep holding because I have time to run upstairs and grab one last glass bottle of Fanta before our plane leaves. Now, I am sitting on the plane and it is really happening. I am leaving Africa. I begin to panic as I realize all of the anticipation of this trip from planning, to fundraising, to being here is over. I miss my family, but where do I put the new emotion of overwhelming love for this country and the people who reside in it? I did not know that part of my heart existed. I don’t want to leave and in the same breath I’m so sorry for saying that out loud that my children or husband may think I don’t want to see them. As I look out the window I see the last glimpse of tin houses with dirt floors and realize that their life will continue with or without me here, but the children…how God can I leave the children that you placed right in the middle of my heart? They know that I left because the demonstration of sadness and grief was evident, but do they know I’m coming back? Am I coming back? God, you brought me here. What are you going to do with me now? Do the children know that my heart aches too? Do they know that my tears are not just for them and their pain but for mine, too? Do they realize the impact they have had on me? What will I do without them? Who will greet me with a parade of smiles upon my return? God’s grace is always sufficient because of course I had several beautiful smiling faces very ready to see me once I got on American soil. I am now faced with the balance of pre-Africa and post-Africa. This will not be easy as I recall my first experience of opening my bags at my house to unload the gifts I purchased from all of my “friends” at the Freetown market and I was knocked down by the wave of “the scent of Africa”. I find myself nestling my nose into the suitcase just trying to place myself back in time to two days ago. Do I really think I will forget everything I just felt or saw last week? I feel so desperate to reconnect. I can only wonder what the kids at the center are doing now. I guess they have figured out by now that we really have gone. I wonder if they still sing and dance when we are not there to record and take pictures of their every move. Ah yes, that is what I will do is watch my videos and pictures for the 83rd time today. I wonder who has posted something on their blog, maybe something I have forgotten about. Okay, that is it! I haven’t scheduled this break down, but here it comes. The tears start to roll down my face and I silently whisper “I just miss them” and before long I locked my door because no one will understand, especially my kids, but I am in a full blown sob. I would love to talk to someone about this, but I don’t have an answer to the question “well don’t you feel like you did a wonderful thing while you were there?” and I definitely cannot respond to “you really need to pull yourself together because this can’t be healthy.” Don’t you think I know that? Healthy is not how I feel. I feel very unhealthy. So unhealthy that I cannot process the very simple things of my pre-Africa life like enjoying my son’s baseball games, going to the grocery store, and just forget planning that birthday party that is supposed to take place next week. How is any of this relevant when I just spent quality time caring for the mothers of starving babies and holding children who do not have a mommy or daddy. Children who just want you to touch them. Children who don’t even complain when they are sick or scared because they don’t have anyone to complain to. If a human ever wants to know their purpose in life it only takes one day in Africa to know you can make a difference for someone. Please don’t misunderstand, my pre-Africa life is important, but it lacks substance and I just found my platform. I did that. I made a difference in someone’s life last week, but what about this week? I know I am making a difference in the lives of my children, but now I know that they too can make a difference for someone else. Although it will take time I have to try and figure out a way to express this that is within me because on top of everything else, I feel extreme responsibility to share what I saw. These kids at the very least deserve that. They might be considered forgotten by most of the world but not by me. How could I forget all of the naked or ½ naked bodies that so quietly yearn for someone to just notice them. Then there are those brave soles who speak out and make the request for help as their handicapped mother urges them forward. The image of the children who run behind the car with the sucker stick hanging out of their mouth wondering if I will return or forget them is forever etched in my mind. The mother who won’t give her listless child water, not because she doesn’t care or that she is inhumane, but because she realizes that each drink only prolongs the suffering of the child she cannot save. A place where there is so much suffering and so much sadness…why do I love it so much? It because of what the people have taught me. I go there to share my resources and to be the hands and feet of God, but these people have shared with me a hope that could have or maybe should have been gone a long time ago. When I recall the people I have met Quami, Osseh, Foday, Daniel and all of the other staff members. I see a hope and a love for God that is immeasurable. I watched women doing laundry for 80 children by hand with a smile on their faces. These people work 6 long days a week and are nothing but grateful for what the Lord provides. All of these memories factor into the daze I find myself in, but none like the overflowing emotion that comes when I remember the faces of those children I have developed a deep connection with. These children who are in the process of developing that same inner strength that comes with living and enduring the conditions of Sierra Leone are beginning to understand that hope comes from God, but for 1 week they saw that hope of God in me. They received my love openly and returned theirs to me. The truth is they have become a part of me and the depth of this connection cannot be described only felt. That is why it is so hard to talk about, but I will find a way because I know that once God starts and stirs something within his people He is faithful to complete it. Until then I will stand faithful in knowing that I did leave Africa, but it did not leave me.
Now that I am a mess again after reading that for my 10th time, I wanted to share this story with you. As we were leaving Freetown's little airport and boarding the plane. I prayed Lord, I really need to sit alone with just you and really process everything. He answerered that prayer and I sat on the plane next to no one. Not even a member from our team. It was completely God! I don't even remember the plane taking off, and I was already an emotional mess. I turned on my praise and worship music and just began to weap and ask God, what now, what do I do with my life now??? As we got off the plane in Chicago and ran to the customs line. I was completely exhausted after traveling for 24 hrs, no makeup, no shower and my eyes were all blood shot from crying I proceded to the customs counter and was greated by a Korean man. He asked for my passport and tickets and what was the purpose of my travel. I responded, "Humanitarian relief and delivering 31 bags full of supplies to an orphanage where we love on 79 kids for 7 days." He then said, "Yea right, what was your trip really for??" Like I was so silly college kid coming home from a long weekend of partying. I then started crying again, yes crying! LOL Showed him my necklace with Kevin's picture on it and explained to him a glimpse of what we had just done in Sierra Leone. He then believed me and it hit him like a truck. I will never forget these words he said to me, "I wish every american would go to a 3rd world country to see how "Blessed" we are here and how good we have it. I came from a 3rd world country and it's such a blessing to see people helping others around the world." I just smiled and said, "Thank you!" He handed me my passport and said, "Thank you for visiting Sierra Leone and for your ministry there."
I will never forget this first trip to Sierra Leone and everything about it. This definately will not be my last trip either. I will post pictures and video tomorrow.
