my article from The Cry

At The Feet of Jesus
By Laura Padgett
Published in The Cry, Vol 11, No 2 (Summer 2005)

Before I arrived in Freetown, I had heard a lot of things about this city. I had heard about the horrendous civil war that raged here during the 1990’s. I had heard statistics stating thousands of children were living on the streets. Thousands of young girls were sexually abused and taken as war brides. Thousands of young boys were kidnapped, drugged and forced into armed service. Thousands of amputees and war refugees were living under tarpaulin shacks in refugee camps. Thousands of people were unemployed. Thousands of people suffered from polio, leprosy and AIDS. Thousands and thousands of people in need. Thousands and thousands of people to serve.

Now, after living here for several months, my perceptions of the needs here are taking on more
personal forms. My friend “James” is confined to a wheelchair because his legs are withered and twisted from polio. He sits and begs on the streets each day and prays for Jesus to cover me and bless me each time I see him. He is thankful for the new wheelchair that another nongovernment organization gave him. However, he is tired of the city and would like to return to his village in the provinces. “Could you please help me return home?”

Once a week, I am confronted with the immense needs Kroo Bay, one of the poorest slums in Freetown. Our community holds a Good News Club for about 240 small children there. During the club, we take time to give basic first aid and medical care to the children who need treatment. A desperate mother brought her little girl to us one weekend. The baby was obviously in pain, and the sores on her tiny body resembled an STD like gonorrhea. The mother pleaded with us to help heal her child. “Could your medicines please make my baby well again?”

There is a group of children who spend each day walking up and down one of the main streets of Freetown. When we walk by, they swarm around us with hands outstretched. “Could you please just buy me some peanuts?”

There is a pregnant woman who sits on our street corner each day with her small daughter and sells packages of biscuits and other odds and ends. Biscuits are 500 Leones (about 18 cents) a package. “Would you please buy some biscuits so I can get rice for my child today?”

I feel bombarded by needs here. How do I serve in the face of so many who need so much? The needs here are so great, and I could work endlessly, barely making a dent in the face of poverty in Sierra Leone.

The Gospel of Luke gives account of a wonderful story that has been close to my heart here. Luke writes of Mary and Martha, two sisters with different priorities. Mary sat at the feet of Jesus and listened to his teaching, but Martha was busy and preoccupied with working and serving.

When Martha came to Jesus to ask him to rebuke Mary for her idleness, Jesus gently replied, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41-42).

Often in my attempts to serve the Lord and others, I lose sight of the one necessary thing: sitting at the feet of Jesus. Like Martha, my days are busy. By evening, I’m usually exhausted. It is only when I’m filled up on His good portion that I will be able to serve and share His love with people here.

Recently, I was sitting with my friend, “Paul,” a teenager who has suffered great loss due to the civil war. He struggles with depression and is at times sad and detached, remembering the pain of losing his loved ones and mourning the horrible ways they died. As we sat together, I asked how we could pray for him. He shared a couple of requests, then he grew quiet, a tear welling up in the corner of his eye. In my mind I prayed, “Oh, Lord, how do I serve this young man when I cannot begin to fathom his pain?”

I simply sat with him for a few minutes in silence, upset that I had hurt him by asking him to share with me. Finally, I mustered the best Krio I could to say that even though there was no way I could understand what has happened to him or the pain in his heart, I was here to pray for him and cry with him. He sat with his head down for a moment longer, then he squeezed my hand and said, “Thank you.”

With nothing but tears and prayers to offer, I hope that we can sit at the feet of Jesus – together.