Leaving Liberia: Lessons in Growth and Gratitude

“If all you know is what you see with your eyes and hear with your ears, you won’t know very much.”
This quote from Boyd K. Packer has echoed in our hearts throughout our three years in Liberia — a time filled with experiences that have gone far beyond what the eye can see or the ear can hear. Our 36 months here have been an incredible adventure, a daunting challenge, and above all, a sanctifying experience.

In these posts, we’ve done our best to share our story with candor and authenticity. We’ve tried to express what we’ve felt, though at times it has seemed inadequate — even impossible. We’ve deliberately left out some events that felt too troubling to share, not wanting to cause alarm. We’ve also withheld moments too personal and sacred to put into words. And perhaps most regretfully, we’ve unintentionally left out too many of the joyful, happy moments — simply because our words often fall short of capturing the beauty of this place and the depth of the Liberian people’s faith.

Now, as we prepare to depart West Africa at the end of June, I want to offer a handful of final reflections — glimpses of the experiences and feelings that have shaped us in ways we couldn’t have imagined.

It’s About the Missionaries!

What’s truly remarkable about missionary work isn’t just the number of new members who join the Church—though that is certainly a blessing. The real miracle lies in the transformation of the missionaries themselves. As they study the gospel, serve others, and earnestly strive to develop Christlike attributes, their hearts and character undergo profound change. During our time in the mission field, we’ve had the privilege of serving alongside 446 missionaries from 36 different countries. They come to us with varied levels of maturity, education, and testimony—but watching their personal growth has been the highlight of our service. My heart is always touched when Nancy and I drive through the city streets or pass remote villages near the road and see our missionaries out—rain or shine—teaching the gospel and serving with love. Every six weeks, I’ve had the privilege of interviewing each one, and every Monday and Tuesday I read their weekly letters. Through those moments, I’ve come to know them deeply and love and understand their hearts. What remarkable young people they are! I’ve long believed that any community—especially the Church—is only one generation away from losing its core values if they aren’t faithfully passed on. But seeing these missionaries in action fills me with hope. With over 80,000 missionaries serving around the world each year, I have no doubt: the future of the Church is in good hands—hands we’ve had the blessing to serve alongside and come to love.

Relationships Bring the Joy

Nancy and I both find so much joy in the relationships with people, especially in the midst of our busy schedule. We love working with our missionaries, branch leaders, and especially our senior couple missionaries. It lifts our spirits to see them in the office or out in the field. Joyful moments pop up every day in this calling.

One of those joyful moments came recently when we welcomed back our dear friend, Blamo Kofa, my former first counselor in the mission presidency. He had just returned to Liberia after completing his master’s degree at BYU Law School. After an absence of nearly a year, it felt so good to give him a big hug and spend a few hours catching up on his experiences at BYU. That same afternoon, we left the office and headed to the Harbel grocery store to stock up for an upcoming dinner event. “When we walked in, the butcher, Ali, who had just returned from a month-long visit to Lebanon with his wife and two young daughters, spotted us. He immediately ran around the counter to give Nancy a big hug and shake my hand, grinning as he told us how happy he was to see us again.”

These little moments remind me how deeply meaningful relationships can be. Over these past three years, we’ve had the privilege of working closely with Church leaders, missionaries, and members of the community, forming bonds we’ll always cherish. Here are just a few (and there are so many!) humble and great Liberian members that I’ve grown to love:

Saying goodbye won’t be easy as we know there are many people here we may never see again. But even as we prepare to leave, we’re filled with excitement to return home and reconnect with our family and friends. Rekindling those relationships will be joyful too! (Below are pictures of our 6 youngest grandkids—3 of which have only been seen through FaceTime or Zoom.)

It’s a Sacrifice

One of the big lessons we’ve learned during these three years of missionary service is that the sacrifice isn’t just ours—it’s our children’s too. Nancy and I understood this in theory, having watched our own parents leave to serve multiple missions. But now, having lived it ourselves, we can say from experience: three years is a looooong time. People often assume that being a mission leader is a glamorous role—and yes, there are blessings and attention that come with it—but what’s often overlooked is the real sacrifice made by the entire family. Our kids and grandkids have quietly carried a heavy part of the load.

We’re especially grateful for their support. They’ve been incredibly patient and encouraging, even while managing their own busy lives. Special thanks to Tanner, who’s gone above and beyond in caring for our dog, Calvin, and looking after our home. All of them have shown such grace—listening to our stories, navigating up to a seven hour time difference, and giving us their love, especially from afar. Yes, there are blessings that come to missionary families, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. We love them deeply, and we’re so grateful for the sacrifices they’ve made right alongside us.

Need for Nature

While these experiences have filled us with purpose, the day-to-day reality of missionary life in Liberia has also brought unexpected personal challenges. One of the challenges we’ve faced here has been the limited access to nature, at least in the way we were once used to enjoying. You might wonder how that’s possible in a place surrounded by lush rainforest and living just 100 yards from the ocean. While we do sometimes drive through breathtaking jungle landscapes and coastal roads, much of our time is spent inside our Toyota truck, and dangers of the jungle or safety concerns of the city often keep us from venturing out on foot. Unlike Maine, we can’t simply step outside and take a leisurely walk through the neighborhood or explore a mountain trail. Most of our walking is practical—between the Mission Office and the nearby hospital clinic, or from a parking lot to the church building. We deeply miss those peaceful moments of “getting lost” in the mountains or enjoying an evening walk through the neighborhood at sunset.

Yet there have been some sweet experiences. Some of our most cherished moments in nature have come while accompanying the missionaries in their teaching efforts, visiting mud-hut villages or attending baptisms at a nearby river. Sitting under a tree to teach with missionaries and answer questions are tender times. Those experiences not only allowed us to step into the beauty of our surroundings, but also to feel the deep joy and purpose our missionaries experience each day. We wish we had more time for those moments— and for the spirit that comes from directly working with the missionaries and of course for the fresh air and scenery! Through this journey, the Lord has deepened my gratitude for the natural beauty of our life in the U.S., while also helping me see his hand here in Liberia.

Prayer Improvements

Along with getting outside to reduce my cortisol levels and lower the stress, I’ve been learning over the past few years to pray differently: with more sincerity and a whole lot more gratitude. For most of my life, my prayers followed a pretty standard routine. After addressing Heavenly Father, I’d start by listing the things I was thankful for (family, health, etc.), then quickly move into a my longer list of worries, needs, and everything I hoped God would help with. By the time I said “amen,” my mind was often spinning, and I actually felt more anxious than when I started. Instead of feeling the peace the scriptures promise—“Be still, and know that I am God”—I was often more worked up, whether it was at the start of the day or just before bed.

But during this intense three-year period, I’ve started to learn a few things that have made a real difference. First, I’ve been trying to slow down and remember who I’m actually speaking to. That may sound obvious, but it’s easy to let prayer become routine and forget. I’m learning over and over that prayer isn’t just reciting a list—it’s a sacred conversation, a chance to not only speak, but to listen and ask what God wants for/from me, not just what I want from Him.

I’m also learning to pray with more gratitude—even in the middle of hard things. I’ll never forget in 2009 the comfort that came when I shifted my prayer focus after our son Clayton passed away. Instead of begging God to take away the pain, I tried to focus on thanking Him for the Plan of Salvation and the promise that we would see Clayton again. That small shift in my thinking—and in the words I used—made my prayers more meaningful and uplifting. I’ll admit, praying that way doesn’t always come naturally to me, but I’m working on it. Over the past few years, I’ve kept reminding myself to approach prayer with gratitude. Instead of asking not to feel homesick, I thank Heavenly Father for blessing me with such a loving family. Instead of pleading for protection for us or our missionaries, I express gratitude for the many people already working to keep us safe. It’s a subtle change, but it has strengthened my faith and helped me feel more peace.

And the last shift I’ll mention is this: I’ve started praying more consistently for charity—for the ability to think more virtuously and to act more like Christ. I fall short often—especially here in Liberia, where there’s no shortage of chaos, and frankly, some truly baffling situations! It’s easy to get cynical and dwell on what’s frustrating. That’s why this plea for charity has become a regular part of my morning and evening prayers. I know Mormon taught that charity is “the pure love of Christ,” and that we should pray for it “with all the energy of heart,” but for a long time, that truth hadn’t really taken root. I have seen a difference in my daily behavior and thoughts as I’ve made this a key part of my prayers.

Now, as I try to slow down, be present, and have a real conversation with God—anchored in gratitude and a desire to align with His will—I’ve begun to feel more peace. And “small, small” (as they say here in Liberia, meaning little by little), I’m being reminded of the person I hope to become.

Labeling Liberia

So, what do I think of Liberia? It’s a question I get asked often—and one I’ve also asked many other senior couple missionaries, just to hear how they’d sum it up. One person described it as “mayhem and miracles.” Another laughed and said, “I have a love/hate relationship with this place.” A third offered, “Well, it’s complicated.” So true! But my favorite response, and the one that seems to resonate with everyone, came from our humanitarian missionaries more than a year ago. They just said, “It’s uncomfortable.” And honestly, that word nails it—everywhere you go, in every sense. For me, serving here has been an uncomfortable privilege: challenging but my choice.

That word—uncomfortable—hit home again recently during a conversation with Blamo (mentioned above).  As we caught up, Blamo shared how impressed he was with the American work ethic—how people stay focused, stay organized, work hard, and get things done. He said he wished more Liberians could see the value in that work ethic. And then he added something that really stayed with me: “I didn’t realize what a sacrifice young American missionaries are making to come to Liberia—what they willingly give up to help here.” I was touched by his insight. After being in Liberia so long, we sometimes forget—we’re living in one of the bottom ten countries in the world. These young missionaries show up here, willing to give their all, every day, for two full years. That kind of selflessness is no small thing.

Missionary work, by nature, is uncomfortable, and here it is doubly so. But that’s where the miracles come in because this isn’t our work alone. Watching these young people grow—to become more selfless, to work hard, to adapt to new languages and cultures, to learn how to collaborate with others from all over the world—is truly incredible. And in the middle of all that discomfort and effort, something beautiful happens: they discover a deeper understanding of life, of themselves, and of the gospel of Jesus Christ. That transformation is what makes all of it—the mayhem, the messiness, the sacrifice—so completely worth it.

Growth and Transformation…and the Path Forward

The growth of the Church in Liberia over the past few years has been remarkable—nearly 5,000 baptisms during our time here. While we earnestly hope every new member remains active and strong, we and our missionaries have diligently strived to ensure they understand their commitments and receive ongoing support. It’s been particularly encouraging to witness the emergence of so many faithful individuals who deeply understand their purpose and are striving to live better lives and honor their covenants with Heavenly Father. The people here are truly amazing! Attending recent stake conferences where thousands gather for instruction has been especially inspiring. The power of the doctrines of Christ, coupled with gospel principles that bless their daily lives, is palpable. We see them learning to be more honest, to manage their time effectively, to pursue education, to work with greater diligence, and to cultivate love within their families. To witness such transformative change on this scale is truly fascinating, even in our short three years here.

The announcement of a temple to be built here in Liberia has generated immense excitement among our members! While we’re still eagerly awaiting news of the specific site—and things feel a bit slower than we would hope—I have a strong conviction that the Lord will bring it about in His perfect timing. Personally, I believe the collective preparedness of our church members will be a significant factor in this sacred endeavor. I see three key areas where our continued efforts will truly make a difference, helping us to be ready for this great blessing: a stronger work ethic with less expectation of entitlement, greater unity and love for others, and deepened integrity and honest behavior.

Cultivating a strong work ethic and mindset for self-reliance has been a primary focus among the people. We teach constantly about the importance of work and of each person being responsible for themselves. Of course, the Church—and we personally, with the help of family and friends—have assisted with many projects, business requests, and urgent needs on such a significant scale. But we have seen that relying solely on donations usually doesn’t lead to lasting change, and it often makes things worse in the long run. We’ve worked hard to teach principles and hold classes on self-reliance and individual responsibility. True progress comes when people take ownership, become accountable, and have that inner drive or fire in the belly. Those are things you learn, not just receive. Personally, I’ve found that when someone hasn’t prepared themselves to be helped, it is better to say, “You know, I’m sorry, but I’m not able to help with that financially right now. But I will definitely keep you in my prayers.”

“The second challenge we face is in Liberia is overcoming the mindset of entitlement and the tendency to pull others down as the people strive for progress. This is often described as the ‘crabs in a bucket’ syndrome: when someone in Liberia begins to improve their circumstances, others sometimes try to hinder them. For instance, if an individual works hard to earn money, those who haven’t worked, or who lack money, may feel the worker should share half their earnings. Instead of celebrating progress or success, individuals who get ahead are often met with jealousy, accusations of corruption, damaging gossip, theft, or even physical harm. We’ve heard numerous heartbreaking stories that illustrate this pattern. Yet, this is precisely where gospel teachings and principles empower people to rise above, transforming their attitudes and behaviors. It is wonderful to witness this happening in real-time.”

And finally, the third—and perhaps the biggest—challenge is to grow greater integrity throughout the country. Corruption here isn’t just limited to politics or solely a result of poverty; it’s unfortunately woven into daily life at almost every level. When dishonesty becomes the norm, it’s impossible for a society to truly prosper and thrive. Too many people will steal if given the opportunity—whether it’s large-scale theft in government or business, or something smaller, like climbing over a neighbor’s wall to steal fuel for their generator. Sadly, we deal with theft every week at an apartment or a church building. In some places, we’ve even hired guards, but sometimes it’s the guards themselves who are involved in the heist.

In my view, dishonesty is Liberia’s single greatest obstacle. Poverty is not the cause of corruption but the product of it. What this country truly needs are more leaders who model integrity, more teachers who instill the value of honesty, and more parents reinforcing those principles at home.

This is precisely where the Church makes an immeasurable impact — changing people from the inside out. I am so profoundly grateful that the Church teaches these Christlike principles so diligently, constantly reminding us to choose the right, even when it’s hard or when no one’s watching. That’s the kind of deeply rooted honesty that can start to shift a culture—not overnight, but one good choice at a time. And this missionary work is powerfully helping that transformation happen.

“It Is What It Is!“

One of the best things about having Nancy as my partner on this adventure is her superhuman ability to stay positive. Something goes completely sideways—power outage, flooded road, traffic jam—and she just shrugs and says, “It is what it is!” Meanwhile, I bring a little…balance. Let’s just say, I’m more inclined to point out in vivid detail, what exactly it is. You know, just doing my part to keep things “real”—without swearing of course. 😉  I’m the Yin to her Yang.

That said, I really am trying to have more virtuous thoughts. Not that kind of virtuous—but more hopeful, “looking for the best in others”, constructive thoughts. Over the years, I’ve noticed something about real leaders: they’re “energy-givers.” They walk into a room and you can feel the mood lift. A.A. Milne captured this contrast perfectly. His Winnie the Pooh character is simple but optimistic, warm, and steady. Eeyore? All gray skies and low expectations. People may gather to grumble with him, but they don’t follow him. The leaders who move things forward choose to see the best in others. They believe problems are solvable. They bring belief. That’s the mindset I’m working on: less Eeyore, more Pooh. Not blind positivity—constructive hope. Because optimism isn’t fluff. It’s fuel.

I’ve seen this play out time and again with our missionaries. If one shows up to an area and starts moaning, “This place is dead,” guess what? They’re right—it becomes a ghost town. They practically host the funeral themselves, and the members stop helping in the missionary work. But stick an upbeat, faith-filled missionary in that same area, and suddenly the place is buzzing with activity. They find people to teach. The members hold weekly coordination meeting and support the baptisms. These missionaries lift ward spirits and somehow breathe life into their area.

And honestly, this isn’t just about missionary work—it’s about life in general. We can always find “evidence” to support whatever narrative we want to believe. If we’re convinced things are hopeless, we’ll see plenty of proof. But if we choose to put on a lens of faith and optimism, it changes everything—how we think, how we act, and what we bring to the people around us. It’s not just mindset—it’s momentum. The Lord can do a lot with that kind of faith and trust in Him.

Gratitude at the Journey’s End

As I conclude my final post as the mission leader here in Liberia, I feel a deep desire to say thanks not just to you—dear family, friends, and faithful readers—but above all, to the Lord. He has never left us alone. Time after time, He’s protected us, guided us, and carried us through situations that we simply couldn’t have handled on our own. We’ve come to trust Him in a way we never fully understood before.

When we felt stretched thin, uncertain, or overwhelmed, He made a way. And He has watched over our missionaries with a love and care that still takes our breath away—it’s been nothing short of miraculous. I now understand what Paul meant when he wrote to the Romans that “experience leads to hope.” That kind of hope isn’t just wishful thinking—it’s confidence, born from the many moments when God showed up, quietly and powerfully, or sent his angels just when we needed Him most. We’ve felt His presence in the everyday and in the extraordinary, and looking back, we are simply in awe of how He’s sustained us—especially through the hardest days. We are grateful for the miracles amidst the mayhem.

This experience has deeply reaffirmed my faith in the restored, living gospel of Jesus Christ. Immersing myself in the scriptures, teaching true principles, and striving—however imperfectly—to live them each day has been a gift. The effects I’ve witnessed in the lives of so many are undeniable. I’m especially grateful to know that God continues to speak through prophets and apostles today, and for their powerful testimonies of the resurrected Savior. (Pictured below: the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles).

I’ve been blessed to personally interact with these men—individuals of remarkable integrity whom I truly believe are guided by the Lord. President Eyring met with us for an hour and extended our call, and Elder Cook set us apart. Before our assignment began, we were instructed by each of these men over four days, alongside other mission presidents. Over our time in Liberia, Elder Christofferson, Elder Bednar, and Elder Kearon visited us, not only holding conferences with our missionaries and meeting with the president of Liberia, but also sharing meals and spending time visiting at our home. Elder Gong also kindly took us to dinner and spent the evening with us in Ghana. It’s hard to convey the true depth of these special experiences and the impressions that went well beyond what we simply saw with our eyes and heard with our ears.

I’ve also come to love the scriptures more deeply than ever—both the Bible and the Book of Mormon, which offers another powerful witness of Jesus Christ.

Interestingly, as my faith has deepened, it has also softened my heart. A stronger belief hasn’t made me more rigid—it’s made me more compassionate, especially toward those who see things differently or are struggling. We’re all doing our best to make sense of life in our own way. That said, I don’t believe all paths are the same, nor do I believe truth is relative. There is such a thing as truth, and I am confident there is indeed a covenant path. But as I’ve come to better understand the Savior’s character, I believe He is far more patient, kind, and understanding with each of us than we often imagine. We should be that way with each other. And honestly, that understanding has changed the way I’ve seen this whole experience.

I’m filled with gratitude—for the blessing of serving with Nancy, working with remarkable missionaries, and sharing the restored gospel in this beautiful, complex corner of West Africa. It’s been an uncomfortable, unforgettable, and deeply sacred privilege—not just to see and hear, but to truly experience and feel. Now, Nancy and I are filled with excitement as we look forward to being with our family again and stepping into the next chapter of our lives.