Life is neither a vale of tears nor a circus of entertainment

our friends from the amputee welfare society: dominic and brima

at the amputee agriculture site, around some cassava plant

gorgeous street boys (men)

fatmata and yet to be named baby

Tolstoy once wrote:
‘Life is neither a vale of tears nor a circus of entertainment
Life is essentially a place of service, where on occasion one has to put up with a lot that is difficult, but more often than not where one can experience a great many joys. But real joy is had only when we see our life as service.’

My view of the world and its inhabitants changes every day, and my feeble mind often resorts to the dualism of perceiving my surroundings as either a circus of entertainment or a vale of tears as Tolstoy wrote. I spent the better part of a month seeing all that is good here: the strength and resilience of Sierra Leoneans, the innocent and radiating faces of children, the kinship and authentic community of families and friends, the utter joy exuded whether people are sitting on their porches or dancing to rap music. Then last week, the realization of hardship and suffering slapped me in the face when I was least expecting it and therefore minimally prepared for its impact. One of our street boys, Ibrahim (pictured below), had a huge gash on his knee, and after we bandaged it up and applied antibiotic, it still became incredibly infected, to the point that he could barely walk. A boy who can barely afford to feed himself in no way can find resources for medical attention. Five days of treatment, including antibiotic injections, loads of pills to fight infection, and daily bandaging costs a little over 10 US dollars, so of course we paid for it and he healed quickly. The day after taking Ibrahim to the doctor, another street boy, Aruna asked me and Heidi if we wanted to go to the place where he was staying and meet his wife and 3 day old newborn son. We were so freaking excited, and his baby was healthy, beautiful and looked just like his father. His wife on the other hand, was not doing so well, and as we held her baby, she unwrapped the colorful African printed fabric from around her foot to reveal the most horrendous wound I have ever seen in person. The entire side of her foot was eaten away, almost as if by flesh eating bacteria, and you could literally see all sorts of muscles and bone. A neighboring town, Bo, apparently has a free clinic where she can find treatment and after providing a small amount of transport money to Aruna and Fatmata, we offered our blessings and prayers for them. During all of this, our delightful coworker and dear friend Musa Konneh (Heidi’s husband to be), was away at the same free clinic in the town of Bo, getting medical attention. During the war, he was separated from his family for many years and while being forced to carry a huge load to neighboring Liberia by a group of rebel soldiers, he was struck on the back of the head with the butt of a gun, resulting in a skull fracture that causes him terrible headaches to this day.
These three incidents may not seem to be huge in the whole scheme of world pain and suffering, but the fact is that these three isolated events highlighted the pain of those closest to us here in Sierra Leone. To say “the entire country of Sierra Leone is impoverished” is so distant and abstract. But when your friends can not afford adequate medical attention for them and their families, it gets you down, and makes your boots extremely heavy.
So then I found myself in the ever familiar state of dwelling on the immense pain of the world, the injustice, the unfairness of it all. And I’m being forced every day to find a balance between tears and circuses, and to determine what I am going to be about amidst it all. Every day I feel renewed in the image of Christ like never before, and scripture like Colossians 3 has come alive to me, like I am reading it for the first time:

“Therefore as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience… And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity”

These are the things I want to be about, as I continue to acknowledge both pain and joy, and how Christ is working through both, here in Sierra Leone and anywhere else I may end up. I am here to serve and to love, to learn and to grow.

Your thoughts, good wishes and prayers are always appreciated. Love.

P.S. Small disclaimer: I had a very difficult time writing this, and conveying to you, my devoted reader my actual thoughts and feelings. I worry that my choice of phrases and wording may be perceived as cliché, or perhaps religious jargon but this is in no way my intention. What I previously described feels all so real to me and I wish I could be sitting with you, over a cup of glorious and tremendously missed Stumptown coffee, telling you more about my heart. I wish I could further tell you about my current spiritual realizations, my present, gradual awakening from years of spiritual passivity, my ongoing transformation. I look forward to the day that I can.

P.P.S. I would like to extend all gratitude and credit to the amazing Heidi Whipple for the use of her spectacular photos of me, and the fact that she is here with me as a sister and fellow professional development worker. Check out her new pictures uploaded on Facebook! :)