Perseverance

“Taylor, how do you see the community?” asked Theresa, a loan officer from World Hope International’s microfinance office, called Hope Micro. She stared at me from the back seat of the land cruiser waiting for my response.

I paused, trying to figure out what she wanted me to say. Was she asking if I disapproved of the poverty? I took the easy way out.

“It’s good,” I said. “The mountains are beautiful.”

She seemed pleased.

We were in Gbangbyallia (silent “G”), a small town outside Freetown that was accessible only by a very steep dirt road. The air was fresher away from the city, and it was quieter too. The drive offered an incredible view of high peaks disappearing into heavy rainclouds leftover from the night before.

Theresa and her colleague Wata had come to visit some women interested in taking out loans from Hope Micro, and were kind enough to let me tag along. I had assumed that the women were petty traders, small business owners dealing fruits, vegetables, and other supplies, so, when we arrived, I was surprised when we passed men, women, and children striking piles of small stones with hammers.

“The people of this community cut stones to build those houses,” Theresa explained. I followed her gesture away from the shanties and small buildings that belonged to the masons, up toward the peak of the mountain, where there were fifteen or twenty large stone houses. One, decorated with columns and carvings of pineapples had the word “Perseverance” emblazoned across the entryway.

It sent a shiver down my spine. If it were a private residence, why did the owner choose to display this virtue? In comparison to most of the people of Sierra Leone, whoever owned this house must be very wealthy. The owner had no need to persevere, for he/she had already arrived. The scene appeared to be a miniature history of colonial West Africa, with the rich soaring heavenward on stairways built by the poor.

Then I thought of the house where I am staying, and felt very foolish. It’s large even by American standards. I have running water and electricity, and, with the exception of the inevitable, occasional cockroach, it’s very clean and comfortable. It is a far cry from the way many Sierra Leoneans live, and yet, far less comfortable than the way I live, and if I’m honest with myself, the way I want to live in the future.

But maybe, for me, there’s something wrong with that desire.

Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they will receive the Kingdom of God.” A sermon I once heard explained that this verse isn’t a prescription; it doesn’t mean that we should try to be poor in spirit so that we will receive a blessing. Rather, it is a pronouncement. It is the good news that says that God is present with the poor. Furthermore, rich people who want to know Christ’s truth must be a part of His work to ease their pain.

This call looks different for everyone, and I do not know how it will take shape in my own life. But being here these past few days has shown me that it is a central part of my call. Please join me in praying for the humility to make the sacrifices necessary to obey God, and the grace to persevere with joy.