Hope.

As the locks of my freshly washed hair were being tousled today, simultaneously, by 7 different young ladies, while 3 little peekings sat on my lap, [one of which licked my sp name tag like it was a candy cane on Christmas morning], and the African sun was beating down on my already bronzed (ya right) skin, I couldn’t help but think to myself… “How did I get here???”

This question was then followed up with an immediate prayer to Jesus, thanking Him for the opportunity to even be in this place…to see what I’ve seen and experience the things I have. All I know is that I’m here because HE willed it. I had to follow. I had no choice.

Today started my 5 day visit to the Think Home… This is a home/shelter here in Liberia that takes in women who have been rescued from the malevolent throngs of society, who led lives filled with desperation and compromise. Many of them come who have been abused sexually and physically, while some come straight out of prostitution, and still some were victims of the horrid and monstrous sex trafficking industry. There is a total of 24 women there, ranging from the ages of 14-24. The nursery was filled with the giggles and screams of 10 adorable peekings whose moms are residing and growing in the Think Home. It’s a packed haven for healing and rebirth.

The women are split into 3 different classrooms during the morning school time. (They awaken at 5am for devotions! Then breakfast, then school starts at 8:30 sharp) There is a level 1 class, level 2, and level 3. In which ever level they test into, that is where they remain and hopefully accelerate in their education during their 9 month stay. Math, science, reading, history, spelling, government, social studies, bible and PE make up their academic schedules. During the bible course in the level 3 class today I was asked on a whim to get up and teach the girls about the Easter story in Matthew. Feeling unprepared I hopped up there and told them all that I knew. Some didn’t understand exactly why Jesus had to die, so that was the topic of great conversation for a while. I explained how Jesus’ sinless blood became the way for us to have a relationship with a Holy perfect creator. No more sacrifice, no more ritual or tradition, no more animal blood… Jesus became the new covenant. They asked very good questions and I hope God used me to speak to them.

After a spicy lunch I was taken around to the “skills” classes. At 3pm they split off again into 3 different sections to learn life skills. One day, and for these women its coming up this may when they graduate from the Think Home, they will be out on their own, needing to make money for themselves and for their family. Therefore they are taught ways to make a living that will last a life time. One class was the pastry/baking section, another was a class on needlework/sewing, and my favorite was their cosmetology class. There they were taught how to style/dye hair, how to apply makeup, and how to give pedicures/manicures. I spent the last half hour of my time in the sewing class though, where they sized me up in order to make me an authentic African dress. I told them they didn’t need to do that at all, but they insisted. All day today I felt so loved, which felt backwards. I thought I was supposed to go there and love on them, but in all reality it was their love that moved me deeply. I can’t even fathom the wounds and despair they have undergone throughout their broken lives, yet their willingness to rejoice and extend love to me was outright overwhelming. I didn’t know what I could do to repay their kindness. I am glad I get to go back the next four days. I’m hungry to learn from them.

Which reminds me, tomorrow during their free time section I get to do ALL of their makeup!!! The head counselor told me today it will be therapeutic for them. Whatever I can do to make them feel beautiful and take their mind off the worries in their life, even if it is momentary, I will gladly jump at the opportunity. The fact that it involves applying makeup is a plus for meee

I read today in Isaiah that God will hold my hand. I broke down at that thought. He will hold my hand. My little hand. This past week has been an emotionally stripping one and a spiritually bountiful one at the same time. He knew I needed to read that he’d be here for me. He gives strength to the weary (me) and increases the power of the weak (me). That sounds like a good promise. Pluuus I get to hold his hand.

Isaiah 42:6 a