So here I sat, under the acacia trees, thoughts swirling in my head, and tears trickling down my cheeks, as I poured all these questions out to my Lord.  He was not remiss to speedily answer, as through the swirling thoughts, a scripture verse quietly came to my mind, nudging me toward my solution . . .

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Though I greatly enjoy writing, poetry is an expression which comes only in fleeting fits and starts.  This poem was written in the very early days of my Christian journey, a time during which I wrote a lot of poetry about the new life I was learning. 

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Many of my posts are written to show how the Lord uses every-day circumstances to reveal my own weaknesses and deceitfulness of heart.  This is is a story in which the “scum of my heart” is brought to the surface (thank you Isobel Kuhn for this wonderful phrase!).  Thankfully, this same incident also allowed the Lord to skillfully skim away that scum and replace it with his own heart of love.

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Victory in this hard trial only came as I allowed the Lord to keep me focused on my purpose as an ambassador for Christ.  The lesson this particular morning was deeply profound to me as I realized that being in Sierra Leone isn’t about me or my small comforts.  It’s about lost souls in a desperately dark place.

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One morning I was sitting on our veranda looking out over the beautiful Kangari Hills, drinking in the very incredibleness of being in Sierra Leone, the unlikeness.  Our ages alone would suggest otherwise.  After 28 years of marriage, we started our West African adventure when Stephen was 56 and I was 47.  But here we were and these thoughts came to my mind . . .

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As we learn to make our way through the market, we generally know where to go to get what we need and have largely gotten used to the sights and smells of the market mingling in with the rest of the crowd, well, as much as two whites in West Africa are able.

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We snuggle down in futile attempt to ignore the intermittent disturbance, but I can tell by his breathing that he’s not going back to sleep either … Stephen’s been in the States two and one half months and there’s not one single morning which hasn’t been similar.

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“There is a pot of gold, a king’s reward, but it comes at the end of the journey” – Jim Elliot

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In His infinite wisdom God set me in Baomahun, Sierra Leone, West Africa. He is much wiser than I for had I chosen it would not have been here . . .

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