Africa has a way with me.

Africa has a way with me. Driving past the perfect rows of tall rubber trees, it let's my soul take a deep breath. It's like an element of me becomes what it's suppose to be in Africa. I just returned last week from a 2 week trip to Liberia with the college-age team. Our goal was to do a leadership seminar, and build from it a team of leaders that could decide for themselves what ways their communities could change. Rain beating on the tin roof, we shouted at each other teaching the group about how to plan out a detailed project plan. They sat at tables together listening and taking notes about how to grow in leadership skill and capacity. Trying to catch every breeze possible through the open doors, we sat with groups of Pastors and Leaders and discussed the details of every principle.

In the morning our team drove through the city to witness Liberia waking up, and ladies going to the market in the foggy morning- their colorful fabrics wrapped around their waists. We drove past fields of corn, cassava, and sweet potato scattered in between the coconut trees. We got to the location of our leadership seminar on the first day, and there were 3 men on time... the 37 others surely just woke up late or got stuck in traffic... right? Oh well, not everyone in the world depends so much on a clock.

One of these men smiled and introduced himself to me, “James”. We ate oatmeal and cornbread together for breakfast, and he told me about his church, his family, and his farm. James- a farmer by trade, and a pastor by calling. After a while in conversation with him, I began to realize how brilliant he was. A humble farmer on the outskirts of Monrovia, he soaked up every bit of the leadership seminar taking pages and pages of notes with plans to reteach all of it to his church and the people in his community. He beamed with excitement and pride telling us how grateful he was, and what he was going to do with it. This is why we do this, for people just like him.

Liberia Video Blog

Now that we're home from Liberia I've had a chance to upload all the little videos I've taken over the past couple weeks. Several of them are completely pointless as you'll find out, but at least they're short so you'll only have to sit through the pointless ones for a few seconds to get to the other ones that have a little bit more purpose behind them. Either way, I hope you enjoy them. I'll put them in chronological order here:

Here is Amy Lyford, who has contributed to this blog quite a bit this go around.  Here is her reaction 17 seconds into the trip.




Here we are just taking a drive through town on our way to go do some planning for our upcoming seminars.  



On our first day of Leadership Training Dave Bearchell taught on the "Diamond Life" Personal Leadership Idea, and had Jonathan help him teach segments of it.  Here we see Jonathan's bundle of nerves on display, or his he kidding?



The evil smirk on my face is because I realize that Rodney never voluntarily jumps in front of the camera. We have to make him, just to prove that he came with us.  Rodney is the President of Service to Servants which is the organization that has brought to life every Liberia project that we've thought to do this far.  Otherwise this short video is one of the most pointless in the bunch.



Here we are Erica, Zac, and I on Friday afternoon looking for a place to get some gifts for people back home in downtown Monrovia. Just ignore the hot mess that is my hair.



Here we are: Miatta, Erica, Amy and I in the backseat coming back from Diana Davies Orphanage where we spent some of our free time.  A few years ago we went their to install a generator, and we at least wanted to touch base with them while we were in town.



The Friday that we were flying out to go back to Atlanta, Dave, Jonathan, Erica, and I stopped by THINK to visit the kids that I had met a few years ago.  Here's a short little hello from them to you.



Dave is so good with these kids it's ridiculous.  These kids at this organization are all rescued from abusive situations, many of them have been traumatized, but Dave bring a light to these kids that's unexplainable.  Here he is discussing their kickball game.



Crazy to think I taught these kids this song 2 1/2 years ago, and they still remember it.  We took a group picture, and then they started to sing.  I couldn't help but video it.



Here is the last video I got in Liberia. It's a goodbye song from the kids at THINK.

In getting ready to go to Liberia again next month, I can help but reminisce on what my first trip to Liberia was like.  I had just come home from my first trip out of the country ever, 3 months living in Swaziland, Africa, and I was a mess, and I asked God to connect me with some other people that cared about Africa.

I could do this

Only about a month until I go with a team to Liberia, and about a month and a half ago I was in Colombia.  I'm honestly beginning to think that I could really do this.  Nothing makes me feel so alive as when I'm serving people somewhere in the world.  There is just something about it, when I'm in the midst of all the chaos of international travel... I just know that there is nothing else that I'd rather be doing.

That trip to Colombia last month really did something in my heart.  It wasn't something that anyone said to me, but still I got back from that experience, and I realized that I was really serious about going anywhere in the world to serve God and part of me had been still holding back. I know it sounds simple, but I broke through another layer of surrendering that I didn't even know was there.

So here are a few more pictures from the Colombia trip that happened in March. I hope you enjoy them!

First Time Travelling with My Guitar.  I borrowed my Dad's guitar case,  and I will probably not do that  again since the case is so thin. 

We worked with the Community Mother's and the Kids she took care of everyday.

The Community Mother's PARROT!!

Add caption

 

Maria Camila! My new sister and translator. 

Maria and I singing in the church during some down time.

This was one of my favorite moments.  Maria and I had stopped to talk to this one lady.   She had been living with the father of all her children, but they had been living together so long when she accepted Christ that when her life started to transform the man who has been her "informal" husband for 10 years or so did not want to actually marry her, so she felt trapped in a life of sin... the church started to put pressure on her, but she felt trapped.... These kinds of situations, I know I'm not qualified to give her advice on, but I did pray for her.  But then while we had been sitting outside a group of twenty or so kids started to gather around, so we shared the gospel with them.  It really was an incredible moment because I can tell when a kid is engaged, and those kiddos were dialed in.  Ugh!! I love it!!   

The Team!

Trash Man and William Hung

The person I'm writing about, I don't have a picture of, but these kids will do right?  Aren't they so cute!

I'm mulling over my experiences from my last escapade to Colombia... and I just can't get over this one thing that happened.  One of our main tasks in Colombia was to have conversations with people about faith.  Now you have to forgive me, almost my entire experience with strangers talking to me about Jesus has made me feel like they are straight up messed up the head, and I'm already a Christian.  You know what I'm talking about?  And because of those horrible experiences I have my own barriers when it comes to me being genuine about sharing my faith with others.

It's kinda like those people who try out for American Idol... you know, the people who are genuine about how good they think they are... and they're not good. (Ex: William Hung & Pants on the Ground Man) YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?! Thinking your ok/good in doing something is a dangerous place to be especially when your actually not good or ok.  In American Idol, I'm talking about talent.  In talking to others about Jesus, I'm talking about something altogether more intangible and creepy.  

ANYWAYS

that's where I'm coming from.

So in Colombia we were given all kinds of opportunities to share our faith with people, and now that you know some of my pre-conceived notions you can tell why I'd be a little nervous.  There's nothing worse in my mind then thinking that I'm wooing everyone with my beautiful voice when really they're just distracted at how self-deceived I am... It's be like thinking I'm sharing the most beautiful story in the world (the gospel), but somehow it's been misinterpreted to be something that people run away from.

All these thoughts were mulling through my mind when a man walked up to me as I was standing out in front of the church.  We were already in one of the poorest neighborhoods around.  The place resembled more of a slum then anything, and yet this man looked like he didn't belong there.  Dirty, Depressed, nearly Desolate ...carrying nothing but a little cart of trash.

The man looked at me and said,

"Are you an American?" .... "Yes"

"Are you a Christian?" .... "Yes"

"I just so desperate, I used to work with the drug cartels.  I could spend $500 in one weekend, but now I have nothing.  I have nothing, and don't know what to do..."  He went on about his sorrows in Spanish, and I didn't get it all.

His emotion, although washed-out through my translator, was still deep.  He was literally begging me to tell him about Christ.  My translator and I stood there on the porch explaining the gospel to him, we prayed with him there to accept Christ, and a new countenance of joy came over his face.  He walked away, and I walked into the church stunned.

"You are the Light of the World.  A town on a hill cannot be hidden." (Matt 5:14) 

And now I'm giving leadership advice? ...ok

This past weekend I was training with a group of young leaders going to Liberia to teach John Maxwell's 5 Levels of Leadership on an upcoming trip to Liberia in June.  We are really just a bunch of goofy kids.  I don't know how we got this opportunity.  Nonetheless, we're going for it.  I've been to Liberia a couple times before with teams, and it's obvious that whenever we open our mouths people are listening to what we say whether or not it's dumb.  So we're trying extra hard to not be dumb.

We may be at the turning point for us now in our preparation which is kind of nice.  I'm sure we have the trio of kind gentlemen of the older generation on our team to thank for that... and John Maxwell.

We're getting ready to get together some of our Liberian friends, business leaders, and pastors in Monrovia in June to go through the 5 Levels of Leadership. Should be pretty awesome.  It's some legit stuff.

Hungry

Last week I went with a team to Barranquilla, Colombia. Never have I ever had an experience like it, and I can share more about why later. Every morning I led a team in Mesolandia working with in-home day care systems, a program called "Community Mothers", and in the afternoon we walked around the neighborhood and visited and talked about Jesus with the mothers and family of the little kids.

Here's a little video. I wasn't sure if I should really put it up. I was kind of a mess, but whatever.


Hungry from Danielle Williams on Vimeo.


I cannot imagine a more worthy calling then to go to minister to people just like this little girl.  The long term plan that we've bought into for Mesolandia is to see that this community become completely transformed, and my prayers are that this little girl's mom and dad are included in that transformation so they can feed her.


"If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday." Isaiah 58:10

Mozambique Pics from July (Complements to Tiffany Forrester)

Cashew, Mango, and Orange Trees everywhere

World Hope's Cattle Project

At the Cattle Project

From Left to Right: Tiffany, Me, Danni, Todd, Dennis, Zac, and Allan

Bible Stories with Zac

The first drops

An Art Lesson in the Sand

Self- Portraits

The most generous lunch, chicken and rice

Guatemala and the Mariposa Funeral

I can hardly believe I’m about to do my last trip of the summer.  This summer has felt like a dream.  My plan was to blog all along, but the speed of life didn’t allow for it.  Sometimes hindsight is better anyways.  At the end of May I went to Guatemala with Water’s Edge (College Ministry).

I had never been to a Spanish speaking country at all before.  During the first part of the trip, I kept on asking God, “God, why did you bring me here?”  I knew that I was there for different leadership reasons, but I couldn’t help but feel like there were more reasons.  One first glance at Lake Atitlan and I understood the second reason why I was there.  God was lavishing me.  He was giving me extravagance.  Because I deserve it? No.  Because he loves me, and would take me to one of the most beautiful lakes in the world (CNN & National Geographic) just because he knew I’d love it.

One of the first days there, we went to a school to play with the kids and speak to them about God’s purpose for their lives.  A dozen little girls latched on to my arms, and my high school Spanish gained wings. (granted--- baby wings)  It was play time and they chattered happily at me, and I had no idea what they were saying.  I only caught, “mariposa” (butterfly), and they were together dragging me down an ally way and behind one of the classroom buildings.  One of the little one’s reached into a hole in the ground and pulled out a little dead moth in a little box.  I was in the process of witnessing a mariposa funeral.  It was comical to me, when I had heard “mariposa” I expect any of the numerous big colorful Guatemala butterflies, not a little brown moth.  I made the mistake myself when I was a little girl.  Gathering and nurturing caterpillar through the cocoon stage with great expectation only to find that a little brown moth emerged.

In the middle of the trip the 40 of us met out in the front courtyard of the hotel to worship and pray.  Nearly everyone was crying.  I’m always amazed at how God can use such simple things to do such profound changes in people.

-- People weeping openly about the overwhelming love of God.  People realizing their purpose in life.  People understanding that they are called to holiness.  Only God can do these things.

Children's Ministry.  We are all pretending to be animals in a skit.

Mariposa Girls

View from the Hotel

Spaghetti and Coke 

Bus Rides Everywhere

Carlie and Carolina

Packing for Guatemala

Early this Saturday morning I get to meet up with around 40 of my best friends to go to Guatemala.  I apologize in advance for anyone who was hoping to get any sleep on the 9am flight to Guatemala City.  I'm sorry.

but not really...

My little brother graciously gave me permission to go on this trip.  I felt like I needed it since I'll be missing his high school graduation.  But hey, how many opportunities does a person really have to just up and go to Guatemala?

I'd decided to do a little research tonight before I go, and hopefully start packing a little.

Apparently the weather should be pretty nice.  The high temperatures are around the 70s and low 80s, which should be a nice break from the Oven that is the American South in June.  Looks like there will be thunderstorms though.  It may or may not change our plans to a sports camp with los ninos.  I suppose we'll see.

So excited!!!

A Chicken and Hen (Ringgold, GA Disaster Relief)

"My name is Willimay."  She shook my hand and smiled at me right in the eyes.  She subconciously brings out my own southern drawl.  Behind us-- flattened mangled houses, a community once scattered with pecan trees older then our country, now they kiss the earth leaves still green.

In front of us-- her house standing firm.  Proud she told me, "We painted it two weeks before the tornado came."  Her neighbors called it Barney because of the specific glossy shade of purple, but not Willimay, she said Jesus wore purple.  "So my house is still standing".

19 people/38 hands started working right away when we got there.  Black trash bags in one hand they went out picking up pieces of rubble: torn shingles rippped from roofs, business papers wipped from office desk miles down the road.  We find a teddy bear far from it's home face down in the woods.

With a tear in her voice, "I've lived here 60 years, and I ain't never seen anything like like this". She breathes deep, "Never anything like this." Ringgold sits in a valley.  It's a small country town. But whoever said tornados don't go through mountains was a liar.  We could trace the destructive path straight up the mountain side.

The chainsaw whines.  I may not be blessed with muscles strong enough to hurl logs off of roofs, or to carry them on my shoulders to the roadside where the government will take them away.  I may not be skilled enough to rebuild a house when the foundations have shifted and water's dripps into living rooms from the ceiling.  The sweat of hard work runs down the brow of our hardworking relief team.  Willimay invites me to walk with her to her church a block away.  We walk through the yard, and she tells me about how after the storm they went to the church to find that the outside of it was completely destroyed, and the inside looked like it had never seen the wind.  The pews, perfectly in line, a basket of artificial flowers positioned on a table up front.  Ironically, the entire North wall wasn't there.  Willimay and I walked through her church parking lot. and she showed me.  We stepped through a gash in the tarp that covered the wide open wall.

She told me, "When we came back to the church the first time after the storm, we found some bibles opened up.  One was turned to Psalm 50, the other turned to Proverbs 1."  At this point I was really wishing that I had a memorized version of the bible on file in my mind, but I tried to remember the references so I could look it up after I got back to the bus since I had a little bible in my purse.  Willimay talked on about how God was telling this community that it was time to get right with him, since time is so short.  I'm amazed at the faith of this woman.  She wasn't mad at God for destroying her neighborhood.

We walked back from the church, and I went to the bus to get my bible.  I read the first few verse and gasped at the third one.

"The Mighty One, God, the LORD, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to where it sets. 

From Zion, perfect in beauty, God shines forth. 

Our God comes and will not be silent; 

a fire devours before him, and around him a tempest rages." Psalm 50:1-3

I told this verse to a few of the girls, and it sent goosebumps up their arms.  I suppose this is a mighty part of our God that we're unfamiliar with. I walked up to Willimay stating my astonishment with this verse, and she invited me into her living room, and sat her own bible in my lap, and told me to turn to Proverbs 1.  The team still hauling tree branches to the roadside.

“How long will you who are simple love your simple ways? 
How long will mockers delight in mockery and fools hate knowledge? 

Repent at my rebuke! Then I will pour out my thoughts to you, 
I will make known to you my teachings. 

But since you refuse to listen when I call and no one pays attention when I stretch out my hand, 

since you disregard all my advice and do not accept my rebuke,
 I in turn will laugh when disaster strikes you; 

I will mock when calamity overtakes you— when calamity overtakes you like a storm, 

when disaster sweeps over you like a whirlwind, when distress and trouble overwhelm you." Proverbs 1:22-27

My eyes are only opened to the clear whirlwind reference now as I write this.  I asked Willimay, what she though this meant.  She said, "This community for far too long has ignored God.  God is calling them to get right with him.  This life is too short! They need to get right with God now."  She seemed so strong, so full of powerful faith. She's "a voice in the wilderness"  calling people towards God, and yet the Holy Spirit told me that if I asked one more question I might get to see the hidden disaster zone in her own heart.  A simple question, "How can I pray for you?"  Tears welled up in her eyes, and her heart opened wide.

Some people may be skilled at clearing broken trees, but God has me working on broken hearts.  Together, the will of God accomplished.  A beautiful thing.

We walked back outside and pointed to a little funny-looking plant in a pot outside her house, we had a conversation about it for a minute, and then she decided to give it to me.  I told her that I wasn't sure I could take care of it, but she said that if it could survive a tornado, then it could survive for me. hehe It's called a Chicken and Hen.

Chicken and Hen

A Reminder

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus." Romans 8:38-39

A look at the past: Swaziland

How do I go on when I have nothing left to give? I have nothing left to say. What do I do when strength drains out of my legs to walk forward? I stood in the hospital hallway alone looking down into the women's ward filled with beds. Each bed has a different story. Each woman has a family (or once did). Each precious soul grabs at the love of Christ whether they know it or not. I stood there saying to myself "I have nothing left to offer these women". The reality is that most of them are just trying to suck the most out of life in their last few moments before they die from AIDS. So I just stood there. God has begun to reveal to me a secret that should have never been a secret.

2nd Corinthians 12:9

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."

This verse is beginning to come to life in me in a new way. I walked into the women's ward. Jesus didn't rip open the ceiling or anything (yet) (Isaiah 64), but by God's Holy Spirit I've been able to form precious relationships with some of the most precious people in the world. God himself has gently got my hand in his and he is taking me on a journey to see his people as he sees them.

He sees the woman's sweet tear that roll down her cheek as she waits for her surgery when she says that her family doesn't even know of she is dead or alive because they live too far away to visit.

He sees the deep pounding loneliness of the 20-year-old young woman lying alone in the hospital bed. She has no one left to comfort her except the strangers God sends. She lets herself cry as she tells me that her mother and father are both dead. I'm reminded that I am just about her age.

He see little Nhloso. He has been in his bed since September. His wounds are starting to rot. God please intervene! He has no family, but he never stops smiling. He never stops praying.

Each bed has a story, and whether I understand it or not God is the author. His love never fails.

[A Blog from Swaziland- March 12, 2008]

Nhloso and I

Stories from Around the World

Last week we had a party to celebrate all that God has done in the past year, globally, in Water's Edge.

100 People have gone out on 11 trips, and raised over $200,000.

I'd say its worth partying about!

I caught a few stories on video. They're a little rough, but I hope you enjoy them.

Guatemala Story: Jonathan from Danielle Williams on Vimeo.

Liberia Story: Amy from Danielle Williams on Vimeo.

Haiti Story: Kerry from Danielle Williams on Vimeo.

Down the Nilgris Mountains- A journey to South Asia, the Jungle Chapter

[The Jeep we took up the Mountain]

We woke up at 4:15am excited to start the day because we were driving up the mountain again, this time to hike down it. There are not many moments when I have felt more adventurous. We drove up the mountain as the sun peaked over the horizon, and shot it’s colorful rays into the dark clouds. Roger sent us on this trip with two trusted men in a jeep. One of them knew a little English, so he explained to me the best he could that we were first going to pick up two more jungle guides. The sun had completely risen when we stopped to wait about 30 minutes for our 2 extra jungle guides to come. We all rolled out of the back of the jeep, feeling so relieved for the opportunity to regain our composure. Our stomachs certainly were happy for the rest. Almost everyone was nauseous from the curvy bumpy ride.

A young boy walked by with a black lab puppy on a rope leash. It was so cute, and I looked at it with a Oh-I-really-want-to-hold-you-but-I-shouldn’t-because-neither-of-us-have-had-a-rabbis-vaccine face, and our driver read my face and called out to the boy for me to hold the puppy anyways. So after a few minutes cuddling with the puppy, and taking in several deep breaths looking out into the valley to resettle my stomach, our two extra jungle guides emerged from the village. Roger told us that they were so in tune with the forest that they could smell a tiger if it were near.

[A little girl we met as we waited for our other two jungle guides.]

Here is the Jurassic Park Theme song for you to listen to as you read:

We took another short drive to where we would start our hike. We start by walking in between fields of tea. Now by this point, I had to go pee, and I knew I couldn’t be the only one. So I asked our guide who knew the most English, “Do you know where we can use the bathroom? (crap, they don’t use the word “bathroom”) Um, I mean the toilet…even though I know there isn’t a toilet out here, but really we just have to go pee.” Gracefully worded… I know. He was like, “Yes, Yes. I understand”, and then he pointed us girls to the tea field while he took the boys further down the path to do their business. Us four girl just squatted in a circle and peed in the middle of an open tea field. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.

We came to the opening of jungle, and our English speaking guide told us that we must be silent from here on out. All I had brought to India was sandals and flip-flops, which I couldn’t wear on this hike, so Roger had generously let Carlie and I borrow so of his own hiking boots. I walked through the forest like it was a wonderland with the team. All of us knew that at any moment we could spot a tiger, panther, leopard, or an elephant. On one hand, it felt like danger could be around any corner, or behind any bush. On the other hand, we had three Indian jungle guides for the six of us, so there was no sense in feeling any kind of fear except wonder.

I slowly felt it coming on, those leather shoes were too much for my soft feet. Every step began to feel like someone was inside my boots sawing into my heel with a serrated knife. (gruesome I know) I tried my best to keep quiet for a long time. I knew I wasn’t the only one getting a little uncomfortable, so I tried my best not to mention it until we stopped for a water break and I got to take my shoes off. I took off my socks, to find sufficient proof of my pain on both my heels. I told Grace, “Oh, Grace, I wish I could walk down the rest of the mountain on clouds. I don’t think I can bear to put these shoes back on.” I couldn’t even manage to get the shoes back on my feet. Brent donated his socks, and I decided that I should just walk down the rest of the mountain in a double layer of socks, and pray I don’t step on a briar…

(And for those of you who are thinking, “What a big baby” right now. I’ll have you know that it has been almost 2 months now since this day, and I still can’t wear shoes that touch my heels. I self diagnosed it later to be an Achilles tendon injury.)

I started walking down towards our guides in my socks, and our English speaking guide asked me what was wrong. I explained to him that I couldn’t bear to put my shoes back on. Then began a beautiful moment of Indian kindness and hospitality, he took his shoes off and gave them to me. They were cushy sandals, with big soft straps. He gave the leather boots I was wearing to one of the other guides, and that guide wore flip-flops down the rest of the mountain. I began to walk in the cushy sandals, and they literally felt like clouds. I couldn’t believe it. God answered my prayer through the kindness of our jungle guides.

I nearly forgot about the pain completely with those sandals on. I’m so grateful.

That day we quickly packed up our things. I double checked the rooms to make sure we got everything, and we were on our way home.

Mid-way through the trip home, we went to a bird sanctuary. Check out the bird and crocodile pictures. It was so cool.

Half-way home Roger got a call his cell phone, and looked back at us and asked, "Did anyone leave their wallet?" I thought, "for sure not me... I double checked everything." I began to search through my bookbag and purse, and there was no wallet to be found. Roger remained completely calm, and he said, "don't worry, we'll get it to you". I didn't know how in the world he would figure out how to get it to me, but I went ahead and trusted him.

but, really!? I left my wallet in the tree house back in the jungle!? So frustrating!

[Rebecca and Carlie in the middle of the hike]

[Posing with the baby cow after the hike...see that mountain behind us? That's the one.]

[Those black things are fruit bats. aww, "Stella Luna" :) ]