Mission Gone South, Part 1

Some of you may have seen my Facebook post back in April giving an update after months of silence and the absence of a promised new novel. Now, I’m generally an introvert and usually like to keep my personal life as just that. But in this situation, I’ll need to get a little personal. As we say in Jamaica, it’s time to taalk di tings dem.

My husband and children and I have been having a hellish experience here in South America, in the country of Guyana. And I KNOW we’re not the only ones, but if no one talks, the atrocities of Jonestown will become a shadow to what is happening under the guise of mission work.

This is an introductory post about what we went through and who is affected. This next series of posts will not be general; I’m going to get specific. This is not something else to be swept under the rug by the church. People with very wonderful intentions to help others have been coming to this country, but have ended up abused and disheartened and eventually frustrated out, while the self-serving and heartless continue under the banner of sacrifice and service to the Lord.

While I’m writing this post, six absolutely lovely young women—fifth-formers—are taking a long journey by cargo boat from the Amerindian village Siparuta to the harbor town of Corriverton, where tomorrow morning, maybe just a couple hours after getting in to port, they will have to sit their first CXC examination. They would not have gotten a good night’s rest, nor been given a fighting chance to pass this or any other exam. Why? The same people who put us out for caring, were too self-centered and troubled (these persons have serious issues) to make sure these young women got as solid a foundation as possible.

Will you join us in praying for them? They’ll need all the divine intervention they can get on their behalf for this exam and all the rest they have to sit. Thank you. Stay tuned...