Love in Sierra Leone
by Kelli Hedding, Copyright February 8, 2008, all rights reserved. 279 views
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| From Misc Images |
“God, I told you I wasn’t a missionary!” I cried from my heart in silent frustration. “I told you I was here for practical work! You know I am not a missionary!”
It was after dusk. I was sitting cross-legged in the dusty field of an army barracks in Sierra Leone, West Africa. I was surrounded by about 150 African people watching The Jesus Video. I just wanted to disappear.
I had been living on shore with a pastor for almost a week accompanied by four of my fellow crew members. I had barely spoken a word all week; I was too shy. The pastor had started whispering when he talked to me as a joke because I was so soft-spoken and quiet.
I had told God when I joined missions that I could do practical work but I wasn’t a missionary. I couldn’t talk to people. He told me to go anyway. Now I was faced with people who needed so much.
I had nothing to give them.
We were some of the first white people many of these Africans had ever seen. Sometimes the littlest kids would scream in fear when they saw us. Most of the kids would come running, however, and loved to touch our skin and feel our faces. They especially loved my blonde hair. They had all been through Sierra Leone’s horrible civil war several years earlier. Most of them had seen things no human should ever have to witness.
It was distressing. I was supposed to be here as a missionary and help these people but there was nothing I could do. I was too shy even to talk to anyone. I had tried and all that came out was fumbling words. A young boy had come to me and asked me to tell him about God. He shared his sad story with me. Somehow I managed to share something about God but spoken words seemed so inadequate for a boy who had nothing.
Fumbling words were all I had to give.
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| From Misc Images |
Now, as I sat in the dark field of the army barracks, I wanted to be alone. I buried my face in my hands and cried out to God. I was feeling so imperfect and was desperate to reach out to something that was perfect. 1 Corinthians 13 came to mind and I began reciting in my head.
“If I speak in the tongues of men and angels but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging symbol.
If I have the gift of prophesy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge and if I have a faith that can move mountains but have not love and I am nothing.
If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames but have not love I gain nothing.”
As I was reciting a bunch of little girls began drawing closer to me.
“Oh great,” I thought, “that’s the last thing I need; more kids that I can’t help.”
I continued reciting.
“Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see fact to face. Now I know in part. Then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known…”
Pretty soon 8 little girls were all around me. Before I knew it one of them was cuddled in my lap. I sighed inwardly. The oldest girl, about 12, began talking incessantly, sharing her sad story. It was the same as so many others. She and her sisters were orphans. They had no home. They had to look for work every day in order to feed themselves. She begged me to adopt them.
There was nothing I could do.
As the oldest girl talked, the little girl in my lap kept silent. She cuddled close and soon was asleep in my lap with her hand in mine. As I held her hand I noticed how hard and calloused it was.
“What must her life be like to have such calloused hands at age 9?” I thought.
I looked at her sleeping face. She was smiling and looked thoroughly content. Then I realized that I was giving these girls a gift even greater than food. Yes, they were hungry for food, but what they hungered for more than anything else was love.
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
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| From Misc Images |
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