Home

Ever since I returned to the US at the end of September, I have heard, "Welcome home!" and, "Aren't you glad to be home?" in a million different ways by well-meaning people. But, you know, I still can't answer that question without hurting someone's feelings. I am living in a beautiful cabin in the Blue Ridge mountains. But, it is a temporary place, not my permanent dwelling place. I know that in a year or so I will be moving. While I am here, I am going to enjoy every minute of it. I love the peace and quiet, the beauty of it all. But, is it home?

The saying goes, "Home is where the heart is." My heart has dual citizenship. When I am in Ghana, living life with my Ghanaian family and friends, I miss my American family and friends. My heart yearns for them. And now that I am in the United States, close to my American family and friends, my heart hurts to see my Ghanaian family and friends.

When I returned to Ghana last month, it was like going home. I saw and lived with those I left behind in September. I missed my American family, although not as much as my American doctor since I was sick. And, when I got on the bus to take the 15+ hour trip to Accra, the capital city of Ghana, I had to say, "Good-bye." again. I traveled alone this time, giving me plenty of time to think, to be grateful that God didn't give me just one family, but two. And, two homes.

Will I ever completely feel at home in the US? Maybe. Maybe not. I know that in my heart there lives a gigantic family of brothers, sisters, children, grandchildren, aunts and uncles whose skin is a lot darker than mine. But, that doesn't seem to matter, for we all love each other. And, thanks to the internet, we can keep in touch.

So, home in America has a Ghanaian influence in it, from the lion on the porch to the wall hangings to the Ghanaian clothing I wear. No matter where my "home" is, someone will be missing. My prayer is that we will all meet again someday in our forever Home, where the streets are paved with gold, where hearts won't be broken and we'll all worship at the feet of Jesus. Then, I will truly be "Home."

. 

To My Ghanaian Family

Leviticus 19:33-34 says, “When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not ill treat them. The foreigner must be treated as your native born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God. (NIV)

This is how you have treated me all of these years…and even before I moved to Ghana. I had never met Rev. Lawrence, but he welcomed me into the Beka family almost two years before I arrived here. Little did I know just how big my Ghanaian family would be.

I came to work with the Children’s Centre-the OVC. And, during my first year, Rev. Dery was my Dagaare teacher…he wasn’t a Rev. yet. Learning a foreign language is not one of my God given gifts and I would often fear my next assignment. Dery would come to my house and he would say, “Today you will pray in Dagaare.” Oh, I sounded like a three year old praying! Once, when he asked me to describe a picture, I THOUGHT I said, “Jesus is eating with the children.” What I actually said was, “Jesus ATE the children.” Dery pushed me out of my comfort zone and into my learning zone.

God did the same thing. I was comfortable being with the children at the OVC. God had other plans. I became a Caretaker at Kalsagri and was put on the preaching plan. This forced me to spend plenty of time in the Word of God.

I have been Caretaker at Kalsagri and Kunyukuo and have preached at most of the Societies in the Circuit. I have seen people take off their juju and place their trust in Jesus Christ. I have seen people come running to the Lord because of a dream they have had in which He called to them. I have seen people so excited to read the Word of God in their own language for the very first time. And, I have seen people rise up out of the congregation and become leaders of their church. And, it’s not because of anything I have done. It’s because of the Lord, drawing people to Himself. In all of this, my Ghanaian family expanded, having brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers and aunts and uncles in so many villages.

I will always consider Kalsagri my home village even though it is not the home village of the Beka clan. Kalsagri was where I was first a Caretaker. People there welcomed me with open arms. They had a strong love of the Lord. I have always said, “If I die in Ghana, I want to be buried in Kalsagri.”

I have always wanted children and grandchildren of my own. I have never birthed any children. Yet, God has given me plenty of them here within the churches and in the community. The calls of “Makum, Makum” is music to my ears – most of the time. Boniface, Pius, Hassan, Rueben …just to name a few. I have seen my grandchildren of all ages learn to read, become nurses and teachers and most importantly, I have watched them become men and women of God.

Deciding to return to America was not an easy decision. But, one thing I know is  I that I won’t be going alone. My Ghanaian family will be going with me – in my heart.

The longer I lived here, the greater my desire grew to just walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their veranda, play ball, throw water and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have the time and freedom to practice this simple ministry of presence. Still, it is not as

simple as it seems. When someone comes into a community as a missionary, it is human nature to want to do something big…build a school, build a hospital or a library, start a big programme. But when that happens, life gets filled with meetings, with looking for cement or zinc for the roof or wondering when the electrician will come. All those things take away from the time I am able to spend with people. They prevent me from walking the streets and greeting others. It is difficult, not to have plans, especially for an American. We want to know when, where, why, how do I get there, where will I sleep, how long will it last. We want all of the very specific information. It is hard to let that go. It is hard not to be working towards some urgent cause, working for social progress and development.

But, I wonder more and more if the one thing, the more important thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell them your own. And to let them know with words, handshakes and hugs that you do not simply like them. But you truly love them.

And yes, I truly love you!

Seeking God's Direction

For six weeks this summer, I had the privilege of hosting an intern from TMS Global, Alex Ledford. Alex is entering her fourth year at University and is seeking God's direction for her life. She has a passion for the Lord and a deep desire to help physically handicapped children to overcome their disability, changing it to an ability. Alex visited Lawra last year with TMS Global's Greenlight Program. She fell in love with Lawra...and that is not a very easy thing for an American to do. Life in Lawra can be very challenging!

Alex arrived in Ghana on 1 June. We traveled north to Lawra a couple days later. We were met by Razak, a dear Ghanaian friend of mine. Then, we planned schedules. Alex would work in the Methodist clinic four mornings a week and work one one one with four different children, one each day, four days a week. Wednesdays would be "field trip" days - a day to visit clinics/schools/programs that worked with special needs clients. The schedule seemed to work well, so well that Alex wants to return for two weeks next summer to show at least one of her parents Lawra and introduce them to the work needed here.

Alex will continue to seek God's direction for her life as she continues her education. And, only God knows for sure if she will return here to work on a long term, full time basis. I know plenty of people are hoping for that! 

Alex, I pray you will seek, hear and follow God's direction for your life. Godspeed, my friend.

To Everything There is a Season

For everything there is a season and a time for everything under Heaven.

Ecclesiastes 3:1

For going on eight years, I have lived among the Dagaaba people of Lawra in the Upper West Region of Ghana. I have worked in the surrounding villages and even call one of them, Kalsagri, my “home village.” People have invited me into their homes and into their lives. They have become family to me.

So, it is with mixed emotions that I am writing to say that September 21, 2018, I will be leaving Ghana and moving into a new chapter of life. I will have a six month long final Home Assignment. During this time I will visit my partnering churches, connect with the TMS Global Office and debrief. I will also look forward to starting over again and “nesting” in my new to me place of residence.

These past years have been amazing. God has allowed me to be His hands and feet and voice in so many places. I have seen “my boys” grow up and become teachers and nurses while the younger ones have learned to read and write. I have seen churches grow, thrive and stand on their own two feet. I have seen leaders rise up out of congregations and take their place in their church. I have seen people, young and old, profess faith in Jesus Christ for the first time. I have seen young guys get excited about reading the words of Jesus for the first time in their own language! Oh, my! It has been an amazing time here.

But, my work is done here. Ghanaians can do and should be doing what I am doing now. It is time to return to the US. It is time to reunite with blood family, and be reunited with friends, and be in the land of good medical care. And, it is time for me to enjoy my days and years of retirement.

I want to thank you for your support during my time in Ghana. Many of you have supported me even before I moved here. Please, please continue to pray for me. Pray for a healthy “Good Bye.” I want to finish well. Pray for a smooth transition. Pray, too, for the people here, who will stay as I leave. I have been a part of them for years and they, too, will feel the pain of separation.

If you support me financially, please continue to do so through my time of Home Assignment – March 2019. I will be “on the road” a lot of that time. And, if the weather doesn’t allow it (Erie, Pennsylvania and surrounding areas tend to get a LOT of snow), I will continue with visiting supporting churches after the spring thaw.

It has been a privilege to be your representative in Lawra, Ghana. God bless you!

Love,

Sue

Water Problems

I turned on the tap to fill a glass with water...and there was none. For me, this was not too much of a problem.I have plenty of drinking water in the house. But, do you realize all that you do with water?

Think about it...how do you use water during the day other than for drinking? First, there's brushing your teeth. Then, making coffee. You might rinse out your cup or put it in the dishwasher. And, there's that load of clothes that you were going to wash yesterday, but never did. How about a morning shower? And, washing off the jelly from the children's fingers? Oh, don't forget to wash your face and behind your ears! You might need water for cooking, or for wiping off the kitchen table plus other types of cleaning. How would you water your lawn or wash your car without water? how about washing the dog? Or, how would your goldfish swim without water?

While I was away, someone shut off the main valve to my water tank, hence it didn't fill when the water was flowing. Then, I found out that the water company was in the midst of doing repair work on the water lines, so the water wouldn't flow on it's regular schedule until after June 9. So, I had to quickly call my dear friend, Razak, who saved the day. He went to the borehole enough times to fill plenty of buckets and other containers so I would have water. Later in the day, the water did flow into the tank for a short time.

I don't know if we will run out of water again before the water company finishes it's repairs. But, I'm not worried. This has given me, once more, a greater appreciation of those women and girls who carry water on their heads every single day of their lives so they can drink, cook, and wash.

Please, don't take water for granted.

A Grandmother? How?

Growing up, my dreams were to be a teacher, a wife and a mother.And, with becoming a mother, eventually, you become a grandmother. That's how it usually works. My dreams didn't turn out the way I imagined. I'm not a wife. I'm not a mother. I'm not a grandmother...at least  not in the usual way. I am "Makum." That is "Grandmother" in Dagaare. God has given me PLENTY of grandchildren of various ages. The boys pictured here are Reuben, Boniface and Hassan. I'm "Grandma" to only one...one Ghanaian man who works at Ghana Post. During the last year, he was moved to another town, but we still keep in touch. 

These "Grandchildren" of mine make me smile. Yesterday, ten of them were playing on my veranda. What I like the most is when I talk with them one on  one. I had traveled to spend New Year's with American friends from TMS Global. When I came home, one of these sweet boys (Boniface) said, "Makum, I missed you. Where did you go?" "I went to Bolgatanga. Where did you go?" He replied, "I went to Nandom." (Nandom is his home village about an hour away from Lawra.)

This same boy comes over frequently to talk, to read, even to help out. He's a good student and placed first in his class last term. Monday was the last day of vacation before school resumed for 2018. So, Boniface came over to spend time with me. The problem was I had plenty to do. But first,breakfast. Boniface knows that it is a VERY good possibility that I will feed him. Tea and spaghetti. What more could a small boy want? Then, I I did my work, he did puzzles-for hours! He was in no hurry to leave. After four or five hours, I told him he had to put away all of his puzzles and go home. No problem. He cleaned up and went to play with friends. He knew that Tuesday was coming and that is the scheduled play day for everybody.

So, am I a grandmother? Absolutely. By natural/normal means? No. Definitely not. It is by the power of God. And we, all of us, will give Him the glory.

Cultural Differences

I feel as if there is one aspect of living in Ghana that I will never understand fully. And, I doubt if I will ever fully embrace it. I  tried and I keep trying and I will continue to try, but....

What is this cultural difference that is so hard to embrace? Is it eating dog meat? Nope. Is it urinating wherever you can possibly imagine to relieve your bladder? Nope. Is it malaria? No. Is it 15 hour bus trips to get anywhere? No, not at all! "Then, what is it?" you may ask. I will tell you. It is WAITING, constantly waiting. There is no such thing as people showing up on time for a meeting. Meetings have to be scheduled early so people will arrive by the correct starting time. When the plumber says, "I am on my way coming." he may show up four hours later. I will take my motorcycle to get serviced at 8:00 am and go to pick it up at 5:00 and it hasn't been touched yet. Ugh! It's not just Lawra, it's everywhere! On Christmas Day, worship was at 9:30 in the morning. How many people were in church at 9:30? One. Me. I'm so passionate about this today because I was to meet with someone at 5:00 this evening. And an hour later, this person had yet to show up. I did manage to speak to them on the phone once. "I am still at the workplace." was the response I received. No further call. No suggestion to reschedule. This person knew I was waiting and yet....WAWA (West Africa Wins Again)

Now, this person may have been in a meeting. They may have gotten an assignment close to the end of the day. But, in this culture, no phone call is necessary to say a person will be late, maybe we should have our meeting tomorrow. When I am in the villages, I try to remember a lot of people don't have cell phones, clocks or watches. And, if they do, the battery probably is spoiled. As a Westerner, it is difficult to keep am open mind. During rainy season, it is easier because so much depends on the weather. I always thought that being on time showed respect to the person/persons you are meeting. Here, if a person has to depend on public transportation, time is not anything they can control. The vehicle leaves when it is full there is no schedule. 

I pray that the Lord will give me the insight and wisdom in these situations. That I would experience His peace. After all, when I get upset at someone for being late, am I forcing my culture on them? It's something to think about.

By the way, the person I was to meet with tonight never did show up. Never called.

A New Year's Prayer

I am not one for making New Year's Resolutions. I would like to think that if the Lord brings something to mind that I need to change, I would start working on it then and not wait for January 1. The more I read and study God's Word, the more I get to know Him, the more I realize I have so much to learn and put into practice. At the beginning of this New Year, this is my prayer in the words of John Wesley:

I am no longer my own, but Thine.

Put me to what Thou wilt.

Rank me with whom Thou wilt.

Put me to doing.

Put me to suffering.

Let me be employed for Thee or laid aside for Thee,

Exalted for Thee or brought low for Thee.

Let me be full, let me be empty.

Let me have all things, let me have nothing.

I freely and heartily yield all things to Thy pleasure and disposal.

And now, O glorious and blessed God,

Father, Son and Holy Spirit,

Thou art mine and I am Thine.

So be it.

And the covenant which I have made on earth,

Let it be ratified in Heaven.

Amen.

I want to live each day this year and all my remaining years for Him, the Lord God Almighty.

Santa's Christmas Prayer

On Christmas Eve the other night
I saw the most amazing sight,
for there beneath the Christmas tree
was Santa kneeling on his knee.
His countenance was different than
that all-familiar, jolly grin;
his head was bowed, and hand to breast,
and slightly tucked into his vest.
For there in a Nativity
was Jesus and His family,
and as I heard him start to pray,
I listened close to what he’d say.
“Lord, You know that You’re the reason
I take pleasure in this season.
I don’t want to take Your place,
but just reflect Your wondrous grace.
I hope You’ll help them understand
I’m just an ordinary man,
who found a way to do Your will
by finding kids with needs to fill.
But all those centuries ago,
There was no way for me to know,
that they would make so much of me,
and all the gifts beneath the tree.
They think I have some hidden power
granted at the midnight hour.
But it is my love for You
Inspiring all the things I do.
And they give You all the Glory,
For, ‘You’re the One True Christmas Story.”

Original author

Alda Monteschio

It's Not about the Turkey

Today is Thanksgiving. I have been seeing pictures on Facebook of Families, Pies and Pilgrims, Table Settings and all kinds of things connected with today's holiday...even Parades and football. It's a sweet day to be with family and friends.

For many Cross Cultural Witnesses, Thanksgiving will be a day quite different than what they were used to celebrating in the United States. Some may live in or close to large cities where the traditional American food for today's feast can be purchased. For others, who live in the middle of nowhere, they may have to kill their own chicken if they want a fowl for dinner. Some may settle with canned chicken breast meat that someone was kind enough to send in the mail ahead of time. (Been there, done that.) Today, in Lawra, I will be eating a "soft chicken" leg quarter (imported and you won't break a tooth trying to eat it), canned green beans...not green bean casserole, the other ingredients aren't available, my favorite Jello that a dear friend brought for me when I was in South Africa, and a pasta side dish that my sister-in-law sent me. So, that's my meal. I most likely will eat alone as my Ghanaian counterparts are all working today. My plans for this evening got canceled, so I will try to meet up with some Ghanaian friends after work. I won't have my family with which to share my meal. Colleagues live too far away from me, so sharing with them isn't possible. 

This is the reality of a Cross Cultural Worker. At least, it's my reality. Everyone is different. I do miss my brothers and sister and their families. I miss my church family at Concord UMC, Wesley UMC and Cornwall UMC especially. Even though they are not with me in body, they are with me in Spirit. I thank God for all of them.

For me, and numerous people like me, Thanksgiving isn't about the turkey. It isn't about the pies. Or about the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Or Football. And, when you come down to it, even though family is important, it isn't about family. It's about giving thanks to God. Thanking God for another year. Thanking Him for another year of life. Thanking him for another year with family and friends. Thanking Him for His Salvation, for His provision. And, even when the past year has been tough, thanking Him for Him walking with you, beside you, guiding you and holding you in His arms.

Today is Thanksgiving. Yes, I wish I were going to eat the white meat of the turkey today, along with all the traditional side dishes. It's a wish that will be granted in a few years. In the meantime, I will let all that is within me give thanks to the Lord, for He is good!

Dark Night of the Soul

I really struggle with writing a newsletter when I think I have nothing to say. I had such a hard time writing the one I sent out yesterday, not because I had nothing to say, but because of what I did want to say....and here is what I wrote:

The phrase, “Dark Night of the Soul” is familiar to me. I never realized that it is the title of a poem written by St. John of the Cross. People talk about experiencing this dark night of the soul. It is a time of questioning life, faith, meaning, self-esteem, acceptance, work….everything. I recently experienced a “Dark Night of the Soul.” I don’t think it was severe, but it was definitely a time of searching.  Life was happening. I was doing what I usually do...reading Scripture, praying, preparing sermons, playing with the children, going to the villages, visiting with friends. Yet, something was missing. Something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Prayers seemed to hit the ceiling and go no further. A sadness came upon me. Things that brought me enjoyment no longer did so. What was happening to me? This has happened to me in the past, but in the way past. And, when it did happen something usually triggered it. This time, nothing.

I called a close friend who is a pastor. I talked. He listened. He gave me some suggestions. I started working on implementing them in my life. I also spoke several times from a good friend who is a counselor. That helped, too. As I thought about what preceded this time in my life, I realized that every couple of weeks I was getting sick. The cycle was sinus infection, getting well. Then, another bug, and getting well. Again, something else would strike. I wasn’t well, but I wasn’t sick enough to “stay home from school.” Then, I got a bad case of malaria. Not a perfect end to the story. Not much after I recovered from malaria, I dislocated my shoulder. (Immense pain!) But, what happened as a result of all of this was that I had to take care of myself. I had to take it easy. I had to rest. I spent more time with God. I poured my heart out to Him in a way I haven’t done for quite awhile. I went back to journaling. I read. I allowed God to love me. I allowed God to speak to me. And, I listened.

I recently noticed that Scripture was alive again...even Numbers and Deuteronomy! There was a spring in my step, a smile on my face and I imagine, a sparkle in my eye. God is good! I continue to speak with these two trusted people as I enter into another season of ministry here in Lawra, Ghana.

I know this isn’t a great “ministry moment” kind of testimony. But, it is my life. And, from it I have a deeper realization of the faithfulness of God.

“Faithful, faithful to the end, my true and Precious Friend. You have been faithful, faithful to me.” ~from the song Faithful One by Chris Eaton and Brian White

A Little Trip...

Eight days ago, I traveled to Wa which is about two hours away.. I haven't been there for a while and I was looking forward to doing some shopping that I couldn't do in Lawra. I went to Vodafone, to Foka, to the bank, to Melcom (YAY!) and to the market. As I was leaving the market, a big wind and rainstorm started. I quickened my pace because of the rain. If I got to the place where I would meet the tro tro (a run down van used for public transportation) for the ride back to Lawra, I would be able to sit out of the rain. I was almost to my destination, next door to it as a matter of fact. Then, it happened. I slipped on the wet cement and I fell, turning my body, my heavy backpack taking the lead. Immediately, I knew something was wrong with my left arm and shoulder. I was in excruciating pain, pain worse than I had ever felt before. I couldn't move my arm because it hurt too much. I fell in front of a hair dresser's shop. The women came out and helped me up off of the cement and out of the rain. I begged them to find me a ride to the hospital. They wanted me to wait for the driver of the tro tro that would go back to Lawra. I told the no, I needed to go to the hospital NOW! (I was in pain.) So, one of the girls ran out in the rain and got me a ride.

A few minutes later, I arrived at Wa Regional Hospital. The nurses took me and put me in a wheelchair. My only thought was, "Give me something for this pain." They tried to get basic intake information from me before taking me to see the doctor. A five minute wait seemed like five hours. Finally, the doctor sent me to x-ray. I had someone pushing the wheelchair and someone supporting my arm. I hurt so much! The x-ray technician wanted me to stand in a certain position in order to get a proper picture of my shoulder. Oh, I could hardly stand it. I grabbed onto the nurses arm and squeezed it instead of crying out in pain. I am sure he still has marks on his arms from me.

Then, back to the examination room. When we arrived, NO Doctor was there. And, I still didn't receive anything for the pain. I sat down in an upholstered chair and put my feet up and maneuvered my arm to a less painful position. After some time, someone came in to check my x-ray. Praise God, nothing was broken, but my left shoulder was dislocated. (Later I was told the part that was to be in the joint was in my armpit.) Now, I was to be admitted to a ward, then I would be taken to the Theater so my shoulder could be put back in place. On the way to the ward, we stopped to pay for the x-ray. When we arrived, there was more waiting. And then, there was the "trying to get an IV port into a vein" process. After five tries, it still didn't work. They would do it when I got to the Theater.  I was asked several times who had come with me and everyone was surprised that I was by myself. I didn't plan on going to the Regional Hospital when I left home that morning!

We proceeded to the Theater. We were in an entrance-way, sitting, waiting. I was in pain. I asked about pain meds. "they will give you some." Right! Then, I asked if I could lie down. In my mind, that would ease the pain. The medical people agreed to this. YAY! It didn't help much. But, they did get the IV port in. As I was talking to one of the nurses, I fell asleep since the anesthetic was added to the IV. The next thing I knew, I was in another room, without excruciating pain. My shoulder was back in place. I had pain, but it was bearable. There was some numbness, too. I was told that it would eventually go away.

The plan was to admit me so I would stay overnight. Ghanaian hospitals are different from American hospitals. The family provides the food, medicines, sheet/blanket, etc. I was wearing wet clothing because of the rain. I had no one in Wa to take care of me. So, I pleaded with the doctors to allow me to go back to Lawra where there were people who would care for me. They agreed. And, the anesthesiologist even drove me home! 

I thank God for all he blessings that took place on this day. I was in Wa, not Lawra. It was my left shoulder, not my right. It was put back in place. I had a ride home...All things work together for the good of those who love God: those who are called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28.

Just One Little Bite...

It seems as if I have been sick a lot lately. A sinus infection. Then, two weeks later, something I eat doesn't agree with me. Then, the cough increases. After that is gone, there always seems to be something else. So, when I wasn't feeling well, I wanted to call Vincent, my "personal" Physician's Assistant. Ooops! He is in Germany. I call Derek, the guy who runs the lab at the clinic. "Derek, I am not well. My temperature is not normal. Would you please give me a blood test?" So, he agrees and comes to the lab after normal working hours. He checks for malaria. and, the answer is....no, no malaria. The test is negative. Praise God! Maybe I just need some sleep.

Fast forward twenty four hours. My temperature has been in the triple digits all day, going down with Tylenol, but rising again. I am vomiting. I am freezing to the point of my teeth chattering. Then, I am hot. Then, I am just tired. I try to keep hydrated.I call Razak. He is an Accountant. "Razak, I feel terrible. My temperature is high. I am cold, then hot. The malaria test was negative, but look at me. I must have malaria." "Mama, you do. Start the malaria treatment and drink Tonic (it has quinine in it)." So, I dug out my malaria meds and started treatment.

The next two days, I tried to sleep in the midst of chills and being hot and not feeling quite right. My temperature spiked to 105 degrees  a couple of times. I ached. I couldn't concentrate enough to read. I was miserable. By day three, I felt some relief. I was able to sleep. my temperature was about normal.

The treatment for malaria is only for three days. Day four, I was feeling much better! I still tired easily, but that would change as time went on. Praise God that I wasn't worse than I was and there were people here to check on me. One little bite from such a small insect can cause a whole lot of pain and trouble!