Week Three in Sierra Leone – A Week of Goodbyes, Homesickness, and Hope

Week Three has been one of the most emotional weeks for me so far. The work has been heavy, the stories have been heavy, and my own heart has felt heavy too. This week wasn’t only about the patients we served — it was also about the people I’m serving with, the people I’m missing back home, and the people here in Sierra Leone whose lives have become intertwined with mine.

Saying Goodbye and Saying Hello

This was a week of transition on the ship. I said goodbye to colleagues who had become more than coworkers — they had become friends. It’s strange how quickly you can connect with someone when you’re serving side by side, sharing long days, hard stories, and small victories. And it’s sad to say goodbye knowing you may never cross paths again, even though they’ve become part of your life.

At the same time, we welcomed new crew members. That’s the rhythm of Mercy Ships — people come, people go, and somehow the mission keeps moving forward. But the heart feels every goodbye.

Homesickness That Hit Harder This Week

This week, the homesickness settled in deeper. I miss my home. I miss my wife. I miss my three boys — their noise, their energy, even the moments when I have to yell “stop!” at them. It’s funny how distance makes you miss even the chaos.

It was also an important week for my two older sons. One had to choose his elective subjects for secondary school. My second son had to select four secondary schools — a big moment in his young life. And he just turned twelve. For the first time, I celebrated his birthday from far away instead of sitting next to him. That one hurt.

Being here is meaningful, but being away is not easy.

Walking With My Day Crew

I spent more time with my day crew this week — men and women who have become friends. We share stories, laughter, and worries. And their worries are real. Many of them don’t know what will happen when the ship leaves in June or July. No job means no income. And here, no income often means no daily meal, no clean water, no safety net.

This week, I also found myself standing beside them in a new way — listening, advising, encouraging them to start searching for new opportunities now. You should see their faces when someone believes in them. It’s as if, for the first time, hope for a better future feels close enough to touch. Hearing them, supporting them, and reminding them not to give up became one of the highlights of my week.

A Guide Whose Story Will Stay With Me

I also met a local man working as a guide at the chimpanzee sanctuary. He must be over fifty, yet he spends his days in the heat, giving tours to visitors and leading them into the forest and toward the so‑called waterfall — dry now because of the season.

He showed us where deforestation has scarred the land, and he spoke of the catastrophe of 2022, when mudslides from the hills killed thousands. He told me how, one night, he woke to find his home filling with water. He escaped through a window just in time. And yet, instead of being crushed by tragedy, he found a new purpose: to protect his land, his city, and his country.

His courage, his hope, and his determination to save what little forest remains will stay with me. He spoke with conviction that change will come when people truly want it.

At the sanctuary, I saw a sign with words that struck me deeply:
“Only if we understand can we care.
Only if we care, will we help.
Only if we help, shall they be saved.”

And I thought: God understood, cared, and helped. Through His Son, we were saved. Sierra Leone too can be saved — if we care, if we pray, and if we ask Jesus to bring change beyond our understanding.

The Country That Breaks Your Heart and Inspires It

I also had some moments of fun this week — small breaks, small adventures. But every time I step off the ship, I’m struck again by how poor and needy this country is. Sierra Leone is full of people who are surviving with almost nothing, yet somehow carrying hope like a flame that refuses to go out.

I met locals who shared their stories — stories of hardship, resilience, and prayers for change. Their strength brought a smile to my heart. Because when people don’t give up, change becomes possible.

Sierra Leone is now on my prayer list. I pray for deep change — deep within the culture, in government, and in education. And if there is anyone who can bring that kind of transformation, it is Jesus. If you are reading this blog, I ask you to pray for this country too.

What Week Three Taught Me

If Week One was about orientation and Week Two about awakening, Week Three has been about the quiet work of staying present — even when it’s heavy, even when it hurts, even when your heart is pulled in two directions.

This week taught me:

• that friendships formed in service are real and deep
• that homesickness is a sign of love, not weakness
• that listening can be as important as doing
• that dignity can be restored in small, gentle ways
• that hope is alive in Sierra Leone, even in the hardest places
• that courage can look like one man, standing in the forest, refusing to give up

As I move into Week Four, I carry both gratitude and longing — gratitude for the people here, and longing for the people waiting for me at home. And somehow, both feelings belong.