January 2006 – It was finally happening…after 27 years, I was returning home—to Liberia, to old friends, to ELWA, to the beach. And I wondered, would it still feel like home? Would we be remembered? What long-dormant memories would be triggered? And what would the country be like after a 14 year old civil war, some of it fought right on the radio compound?
Arriving late at night, the road from the airport was pitch black, with an occasional dim kerosene light showing through a hut or a shack. No electricity in the whole country – no traffic lights, no air conditioning, no running water, no sewer, except for the few with generators. Remnants of the war were everywhere – bullet holes, bombed out buildings with squatters living in them.
Daylight revealed more changes. The studio building and several houses were gone, rocketed and destroyed. Buildings left standing were mildewed and decayed. Fields needed mowing (no tractor) and roads needed grading. The bush was overgrown (providing cover for the many rogues), security walls topped with broken bottles and razor wire surrounded the school, hospital and studio, bullet holes telling the stories. Military check points and UN presence was everywhere, even at ELWA. Each time a UN helicopter flew over us, I was startled. There were huge termite hills everywhere, and tiny pesky fire ants had moved in everywhere, attracted by the deaths at the station, we were told. The graceful palms were all gone, cut down for food. Rogues were a huge and growing problem. “Don’t stay in Monrovia after 5:00 p.m.”, we were repeatedly warned.
And yet, there was a hum of activity and anticipation of better things to come. Road repairs and painting projects were preparing for the Inauguration. Lack of running water created entrepreneurs selling bottled water. No electricity, but everyone seemed to have cell phones! And internet cafes were all over the place!
Everyone had a harrowing story of loss and survival, and still they had tremendous joy and faith and trust in God. Most people barely existed, and yet they generously cooked and brought food for us every day. There were orphans and orphanages everywhere, and I was struck by the love and care of the staff at Phebe Grey and Susie Guenter orphanages. A Ghanaian house parent, Edmund, told of four three-year olds who had just been transferred from another orphanage that had closed, and how they cried all day, every day for two weeks. He said that he slept every night with all four wrapped in his arms to comfort them.
Time after time, I was overcome with emotions of loss that I had long buried. I had no idea of just how much I had missed this place, and deeply regretted having to leave. There was tremendous grief for what our friends and the country had had to endure.
“I wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me. O my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge.” (Psalm 62: 5-8)
Encouraged, I looked further. “Do not tremble; do not be afraid. Have I not proclaimed from ages past what my purposes are for you? You are my witnesses – is there any other God? No! There is no other Rock – not one!" (Isa. 44:8)
This was the perspective I needed! This was the truth that sustained the Liberians. Our worlds will always be buffeted by changes, but we must keep our focus on Him! The rest of the visit, I was able to look at the changes through a new lens. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and FOREVER!” (Heb. 13:8) Amen!
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