LIBERIA

the message of hope

When an idea continues to come back to me through people or stories or events, I try to pay attention. (After all, part of how I ended up in Liberia was because I suddenly started meeting MANY Liberians. It was a neat way my heart was drawn to the suffering of the people and of how I really began to see the need for storytelling in Liberia.) I'm not superstitious. Maybe it's just the way my English major mind works or maybe it's how God uses circumstance and people to teach us.  But I like picking up on the new "themes" running through my life. I believe that I have much to learn from those who have gone before me, and I look for ways to connect my struggles with the wisdom out there.

This week, the message I'm picking up on is hope. I've been thinking more critically about my reporting. I've really been challenged to think about the message of hope in my stories about Liberia -- whether it's there or there enough. As a reporter, it's so easy to be drawn to all of the destruction and pain and needs of Liberia. I think reporters need to tell stories like that -- to inform a readership that doesn't get regular opportunities to learn about what is going on in places of real suffering.

But it's also true that suffering is not the only story. There are so many stories of hope. Redemption still is at work, although sometimes its movement is more subtle. Thoughts?

Also, see the two video clips below that are helping me to think about the message of hope in storytelling.

a waving flag

When I get older, I will be stronger.

They'll call me freedom, just like a waving flag.

And then it goes back, and then it goes back, and then it goes back.

Born to a throne, stronger than Rome

but violent prone, poor people zone.

But it's my home, all I have known.

Where I got grown, streets we would roam.

But out of the darkness, I came the farthest,

Among the hardest survival.

pretty & polished update

 I had a great time giving Haja and Massa pedicures and manicures over the last two days. It took two different days because they were busy!

Bringing Pretty & Polished to Liberia has  the potential to make a life-changing difference in the lives of many African women who toil in the hot sun all day, often are marginalized, and don't feel beautiful.

Culturally, Pretty & Polished fits in magically. Liberian ladies love to dress up, braid their hair, wear makeup, paint their nails. You'll see the poorest women with their toes painted around here.

I've written a column about my time with these beautiful ladies. Be on the lookout for it. I'll post a link right here when it's online!

pretty & polished comes to liberia

I miss Ganta, and I'm getting calls from several of the girls I've befriended at the high school wondering when I'm coming back. I miss them!

on mattering

I'm expanding my volunteer counseling to a community in Ganta that is home to leprosy patients.

Leprosy?

Right. That's what I said the first time I heard about the community.

my ma

This blog is about Liberia, but today is a special day. It's Mother's Day, and I'm away from "my ma" (as mothers are called here).

a different Liberia

It's Friday, and I'm settling into a different part of Liberia. Time to pull out your map of Liberia!

giving thanks

Tonight, I give thanks...

need something new for your wall?

Let me help you!

I'm in the process of moving the "War Child" Liberian art gallery over to Etsy, an online shop for handmade goods. You can view the paintings easily and pay online via Paypal's secure site. Take a look!

a prayer for the artists

In the next few days, I'll be posting the bios and personal war stories of the artists with whom I collaborated for War Child: An Art Exhibition.

Their stories are powerful. Until War Child, they had never painted about the war. Thankfully, all the artists survived the war, but they endured great pain and trauma that isn't healed quickly or easily.

Please pray for them, as they move forward in a post-war Liberia. They are working hard to rise above their circumstances and to break new ground for artists in a country where art is not valued the way it is here.