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

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.

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!

Home Maintenance, Ghanaian Style

I have lived in the same house for over six years. It's a basic cement brick house built on very hard ground. When it rains, there is no place for the rainwater to drain. Over the years, the cement walls have started to crumble from the water seeping up into them. So, this past spring, it was time to fix that and a bunch of other stuff.

If you want your cement walls fixed, first all the bad cement has to be knocked out of your wall. What a mess! Imagine big, heavy hammers making big holes (or so it seemed) in your walls. Cement dust was everywhere! I was blessed to have a willing helper, Boniface, who would take outside the bad cement bucket by bucket since the masons didn't clean up after themselves.

After the old cement was knocked out, it was time for the new cement to be put on the walls. YAY!  My walls had a two foot strip of new cement about two feet up from the floor. Next came the mopping. Boniface was willing to mop, too. I mopped. Kataali mopped. Razak mopped. Fortune mopped. It was days before my floors looked normal again!

Before the walls and ceilings could be painted, the carpenter came to replace some sections of the ceiling. Again, he doesn't clean up very well. But it is finished and the painting begins!

All of the wall and ceilings inside the house were painted.

Then, the outside received a new coat of paint. And...

The roof was fixed, too!

Next, came the plumber to fix the water tank outside the house. 

It was the most exhausting ten days I had in Lawra. I went to bed with throbbing feet. And, I woke up with throbbing feet. I was tired to the point of tears. I am so grateful for those who helped me get my home back to "normal." I don't think I will have to go through this again. And, if I do, I'm running away!

A Breath of Fresh Air

Heat. Travel. Unstable electricity Things not working. Heat. Things needing repair. Going to town to buy something only to find out "It is finished." Internet issues. Heat. Driving a motorcycle to villages in the strong sun. Not "seeing" any change/growth in the church or congregation. Wondering if "anyone hears." Heat. All of these may seem like small things. But, day after day, they can wear on a person.

Enter, a breath of fresh air. It came in the form of six people from Highworth Community Church, Highworth, Swindon, UK. They came to Lawra for a couple of reasons, one being to encourage me in my ministry, see what God is doing in this part of the world and to pray. And, pray, they did!

They prayed at the clinic.

They prayed at my house.

They prayed at the market.

They prayed at a funeral.

They prayed in Kunyukuo and they prayed in Kalsagri.

One of the things that this team did was to pray throughout my house - a house blessing. I was touched by the faith and conviction with which they prayed...and the blessings they prayed. 

We also had "down time" to share stories of life and faith.

Of course, some were more tired than others!

On Sunday morning, Pastor Matt and the group taught a song to the congregation. His sons did a drama to reinforce the morning Scripture. Then, he preached. It was really nice to hear a sermon in English! I know that all who were present were blessed.

Pastor Matt preaching in Kunyukuo.

All too soon, their time was up and the group had to leave. Lots of farewells and hugs and blessings were given. The visit was short. But, it was enough to strengthen me, to let me know in a concrete way that I am not alone here in Lawra, that others are here with me. (That is easy to forget since I get so few visitors and rarely anyone not connected with TMS Global.) I pray God will continue to bless Highworth Community Church, its leaders, and their mission focus. 

Who would have thought this partnership and friendship would happen? God is so good! Only He could have orchestrated this. Thank you for visiting. You are welcome to come back anytime. The door is open.

Grateful for Six Years

In February, I celebrated six years in Ghana! Six years. In some ways it seems like I just got here. Other ways it seems as if I have been here forever! When I came, I had in my mind that I would be here for at least ten years. IF I decide to leave after ten years, I have passed the halfway mark. I have only four more years! But, I don't sit around and count the days. What good is that?

Today I choose to be grateful for the time and the opportunities that God has given me. I came to Ghana thinking I would be working with children who were AIDS orphans. And I did for a while. But, God had other ideas.

I have had the privilege of: working with disabled children; being a "home away from home" for volunteers from the US and beyond; working in a clinic; being grandmother to a bunch of local children; and facilitating trainings for church leaders and Sunday school teachers. 

The last four years (has it been four years already?) I have been the equivalent of a lay pastor in two village churches, Kalsagri and Kunyukuo. I am so glad God put me in Kalsagri first because if it had been the other was around, I don't know if I could have done it. In Kalsagri, the congregation is made up of a variety of ages. The children and youth WANT to learn and many of them have attended Bible studies, English classes and trainings that  have been available. Even those in Junior High School are helping to lead the church. Kunyukuo is mainly made up of widows, a couple of young mothers and LOTS of young children. So far, I haven't seen the interest in growth among the people of this church. It is as if they are sleeping and need to be awaken. Both churches have a large percentage of illiterate people in their congregation. Both churches have welcomed and accepted me, for which I am grateful.  

It hasn't been easy. God has stretched me beyond what I could imagine. I drive a motorcycle! I prepare a sermon most weeks. I have seen the needless and preventable deaths of both adults and children. I've attended more funerals in the last six years than I have in my entire life before I moved here. I have seen people who are oppressed and need the peace of the Lord. I have seen people who try to feed their families and don't have the means to do so. I have known young men and women who want an education and can't afford it. I have had illnesses that I never thought I would have to worry about. I have seen way too many flying insects up close! And, now that we are entering the hot season...Ugh! 105 degrees and higher is NOT fun.

But,the blessings, oh, the blessings...a Ghanaian family... Being part of someone's life, watching them grow in their faith and be baptized and confirmed. Listening to testimony after testimony of how God has worked in lives. Being a part of a church where the blind, lame and disfigured worship and praise God side by side of others - and witnessing their confession of faith and baptism.Seeing people who have been outcasts become accepted. Watching boys and girls try their best both in school and at church, leading the worship services. Hearing children of all ages call out, "Maakum!" to me. It makes me smile and know I am blessed beyond measure.

Six years down...only God knows how many are in my future.

A "What About Bob?" Kind of Day

You know, as a Christian, and in the work I do, the place that I live, I often feel as if I shouldn't have "one of those days." But, the truth of the matter is, I do. I do have "one of those days" from time to time. Days like yesterday. I didn't choose to take a day off. My body did.. It must have been on strike or it was planning a mutiny and didn't know how to pull it off. 

Out of the last 30 days, I have been sick for at least 20 of them...back to back illnesses. Nothing big or traumatic. Nonetheless, I haven't felt 100% well for awhile. Thien came Monday and Tuesday this week. I felt great, for the most part, still battling small health issues that refuse to let go. I baked! I cleaned! I wrote Sunday's sermon!I played with the children. People visited me. I visited them. I walked. I exercised. I called the carpenter and the plumber to fix things. I did laundry. I sent a report to the pastor. Oh, it felt good to be so productive....

Until yesterday. I could barely drag myself out of bed. I didn't even make coffee! I resorted to the iced coffee I made the day before. What was wrong with me? Even coloring seemed to be a chore. Did I overdo it the last two days? (Yep!) I went back to bed and watched What About Bob? Baby steps. I needed to take baby steps. That way, something would get done. One little step at a time. I sent some emails. Then, I read. I made breakfast. And then I read. And I napped. And I read. I tore myself away from Mr. Mooey and put away the clean laundry from the day before. I started a letter to my sister. I read...that was about all. I ate. I read. I slept. I didn't get much done except for the rest I obviously needed. Anything I did was done a little bit at a time...baby steps.

Boundaries

How do I keep sane with so many children around? I try to set boundaries and stick to them. It should be easy. Right? Operative word - should! 

I have scheduled days for the children to come and play. And, they are pretty good at keeping to those days. And, I am pretty good at sticking to them, too. But, it isn't easy. When there's no school is the hardest. I will be sitting on my veranda and here comes Boniface. "Maakum, I want to read." "Okay, Boniface, here are the Bibles, you read while I read." In a few minutes, "Maakum, I want to do schoolwork." How can you say "no" to schoolwork? But, I must. "No, Boniface. It is time to read. If you are finished, then you need to leave." Some days he reads more. Some days he leaves.

Over the holidays, I was sick, Then, I got better. Then, I got sick again. So, Boniface didn't see me on the veranda. He would come to my bedroom window. (He can't see in because of my curtains.) "Maakum." Pause. "Maakum." Pause. Now, a bit louder, "Maakum!" Pause. "Maakum!" Another pause. Now, louder, "MAAKUM!" It was so hard not to answer. He isn't supposed to come to my window. I listened for him. He didn't leave. He was talking to someone. "MAAKUM!" "MAAKUM!" Finally, I answered him. "What, Boniface. I am sick and I am resting." "Oh, Maakum. I just came to greet." "Boniface, you know you aren't to be at my window. You need to go to the gate. Who is with you? Who were you talking to?" "Maakum, nobody." "Boniface, I heard you talking to someone." "Oh, Maakum, I was praying!" You gotta love the boy!

Christmas Day Ministry Challenges

During the Christmas Season, it is easy to think of decorations, special music and even going to church early so you can get a parking space. Some churches have the challenge of figuring out where to seat all of the people who attend their worship services. Not so in Kunyukuo. On Christmas Day, a Sunday, I arrived at church at 9:15 for a 9:30 service. NO ONE WAS THERE! I was so surprised! What was happening? Even the few that are usually in church early were not there. Did the village of Kunyukuo do something special on Christmas Day that no one told me about? 

I tried calling Mama Jane and Matthias. Neither of them picked up. So, I called Razak. He had relatives in Kunyukuo, maybe he knew. He told me that maybe people go to church on Christmas Eve. I said, "Razak. Even if they went somewhere else last night, today is Sunday. We have Sunday worship." He told me he would try to find out what was happening. Then, the network went down and wasn't working for the next two hours or more.

I walked over to Mama Jane's house. She said, "I am on my way coming." She was still getting ready. But, she also said, "It's so cold outside. I am moving slow." COLD? In Ghana? We really don't have cold. But, wait...I am from Pennsylvania. This weather in Ghana, even a morning Harmattan temperature in the 70s is nice to me. But, to a Ghanaian, it is freezing! I walked back to church. Oh, we now had five people. None spoke English. After waiting a bit longer, we had ten people, and Matthias had arrived from Lawra. He began the service....

I have been here almost six years. It sense to me that people would come late because of bad weather. Yet, in my American mind, this isn't bad weather. And still, I sometimes forget to look at things/circumstances from a Ghanaian point of view. I still have a lot to learn!

Home, Sweet Home

Home, sweet home. It's so nice to be home again. There is something very comforting about being home. It's at home when I am most content. It's at home I can be myself and feel/express whatever emotion I am feeling without having someone wonder about it. Everything at home is familiar-clothes, food, rooms, books, storage, and the veranda...my place where I have my time with the Lord. I can study at home. I can work at home...sometimes. The children come to play at my house. I love to hear them call to me, "Maakum! Maakum!" and see their smiling and expectant faces.I provide an island of familiarity to expats from Europe and the United States. When a respite is needed for these volunteers, I can provide it. But, most of all, being at home means being with "my people." God has given me family and friends for this chapter of my life. They are the people with whom I work and "play," those with whom I live among-the Dagaaba of the Upper West Region of Ghana, in the Lawra area. 

Life can be very challenging at times. I had three different plumbers here for a total of five times before my toilet was fixed! The ATM machine was broken. When it was fixed, it wouldn't take my US bank card. The next closest ATM machine is a two hour one way trip away. I can arrive at church on a Sunday morning, and no one is there, not even at the time the service is supposed to start. Being sick can present it's own set of challenges, too.

Praise God! He has a plan for all of these challenges. I am happy to say that the toilet was fixed before I got sick. And, when I was sick, I had the luxury of soft toilet paper that I bought in Accra, 15 hours away! When I traveled to Wa to use the ATM machine, I was able to buy "soft chicken" and potatoes for Christmas dinner that was shared with Ghanaians and expats alike. The Physician's Assistant is a good friend, and makes house calls! And, even thought it was VERY cold on Christmas Day (80 degrees F)  and no one was in church at 9:30 am, there were 20 people who came to worship Emmanuel, God with us! Even now, there are children's voices coming from my veranda. What a sweet sound. 

Home, sweet home. It's so good to be "home." Yet, I am a stranger here in Lawra because I am not Ghanaian. And, I am a stranger in this world because I am a follower of Jesus. I look forward to someday being in my Heavenly home...just not yet!

A Day to Remember

My birthday was not going to go as planned. I was hoping to stay home and make Christmas cards. Did that happen? No. Life happened.I got up early and walked, read my Bible, was greeted by Boniface, drove out to Kunyukuo to pick up the financial books and start going through them, making sure everything was good. (Matthias has been doing a good job!) I also went to talk with the pastor about a bunch of stuff. Oh, and I needed to go into town to buy a few things. Plus, there is a sermon to be written this week. Anyway,it turned out to be mostly a work day, And that's okay, too. Minna, a Peace Corps volunteer was coming for dinner-canned peaches and grilled cheese sandwiches. (I also dropped my laptop on to the top of my right foot...the edge of me laptop. It still hurts!)

Minna came bearing gifts of snacks from Japan, Korea and the US. So, we had appetizers while we tried to figure out why the sound wasn't working on the TV?DVD player. (We didn't figure it out.) Then, there was a phone call. It was Razak. Mama, there is an emergency mandatory meeting at Galipol (He really meant Matron's) at 5:00. Be there! 

So, we walked over to Galipol and waited. And waited. Until a girl came over to tell us that Razak was at Matron's. We walked over and there they were...Razak, Vincent, (both from Ghana) Lena and Seraina (both from Germany.) We sat down and birthday greetings were given. So were birthday gifts. Glasses were placed in front of us and Razak presented me with a bottle of Sparkling Orange Drink. He proceeded to shake it and shake it and shake it and uncork it. The cork flew about 25  feet! There was a birthday toast. Then, a guinea fowl with spaghetti was served. Yum! After awhile, Minna and I walked home and ate some more while putting our feet up and watching a Christmas movie.

The day definitely didn't go as planned. It was so much better! God has truly blessed me with "family" and friends here. I am so grateful that my day was such a blessing. In so many little ways, and some big ones, throughout the day, He showed me that I am not alone and I am loved beyond what I could imagine. Thank You, Lord!

114 Days

114 days. 114 wonderful days. 114 busy days. 114 long days. 114 days in the United States. In many ways, those days seemed too short. I spent time with family and friends. I enjoyed summer days at the lake, cookouts, coffee shops, shopping, a peach festival, making greeting cards, going to movies and eating popcorn, going out to eat, and snuggling with Lulu (my senior brother's dog.) 

I spent time with supporting churches. And spent time with possible new supporters. I attended continuing education conferences. I traveled to and through several states. And, I missed my people in Lawra.

During the first of those 114 days, I kept watching a video of one of the children who come to my house...it was of video of him making great armpit noises. It made me laugh. (I can't tell you how many times I watched that video while I was gone.) I talked about my "Ghanaian family" whenever given the chance, always wondering what they were doing. I was missing life happenings with them. Oh, when I returned to Ghana, both Elvis and Junior were walking! They weren't walking when I left. I would wonder how my little church was doing. And, I was saddened that I wasn't in Ghana to grieve with my friends when Uncle Christopher died.

On of the hard things about living in another country is always missing the country that I am not physically in. When I am in Ghana, I miss being in America. I miss my sister and brothers. I miss my friends. I miss my home church. I miss celebrating holidays with family. I miss the festivities that go along with those holidays. But, I love my life here in Ghana. I love the fact that God chose me to live this life. I love my little churches. I love the children who come to my house. I love the "laid back" lifestyle. I love that everyday is different. Sure, things don't always go the way I want them to, but, that is part of life, especially life in West Africa.

During those 114 days, people would ask me how it felt to be home. Home? Where is "home"? Right now, it is in Ghana. And, during those 114 days, I missed being there. Today, I thank God for returning me safely. 

A Different Kind of Thanksgiving

Yesterday, I was talking with an American friend and I made a comment about tomorrow being Thanksgiving. Her response was precious and typical, "Tomorrow? Thanksgiving? I forgot all about it." That's easy to do when the outside temperatures are over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Thanksgiving looks different here than it does in America. There are no festivities. After all, it is not a Ghanaian holiday! There are no turkeys. No stuffing/dressing.No cranberry sauce. No blood family.

Yet it is still a day of giving thanks. I am thankful for another day of life to praise my Lord and Savior. I am thankful that I started back walking this morning. I am thankful for all those I see and greet when I walk. I am thankful for my Ghanaian family and friends with whom I can talk, laugh and celebrate the joys of life and grieve the sorrows. I'm thankful for my personal Physician's Assistant who keeps my injections up to date. And for my mechanic who keeps my motorcycle safe to drive. I am thankful for Boniface showing me his school work and doing his homework at my house. I am thankful, too, for the technology that allows me to wish family and friends who are stateside, a "Happy Thanksgiving."

So, while most people I know in the United States are eating turkey with all the fixings and planning their black Friday shopping spree, I am enjoying a teryaki chicken stir fry, rice and a cold glass of iced tea. After all, Thanksgiving isn't about the food or planning the shopping trip! It's about turning your eyes/my eyes to the LORD and thanking Him for His great love and the gift of salvation. He has truly blessed us! Give thanks!

A Rainy Day

The rain started during the night. It was wonderful! The wwind and the sound of the drops hitting the zinc roof made sleeping very nice. I was surprised that the electricity was still working. Usually during a good rain, it goes off. When I got up at 5:00, it was still raining. It felt as if I should curl up with a good book. But, first, I made coffee.

When dawn appeared and it was light enough to read outside, I took my coffee and Bible out to the veranda. It was a bit chilly. I had to put on a long sleeved flannel shirt and slippers. I was definately making a fashion statement! I had been walking into town for breakfast this week, but, I had some odds and ends of jelly and cheese to use up. So, when the rain let up to a drizzle, I walked to town to buy bread for toast and grilled cheese. It's a good thing I went when I did. I got only slightly damp. About five minutes after I returned home, the heavens opened up and it poured for hours. We haven't had a rain like this since last year.

Here, in Lawra, most people walk wherever they go. Some use a bicycle for transportation. And, some use a motorcycle. So, what happens when there is a day of pouring rain? Children go to school late. Some schools don't have windows, so the children have to move their desks close together in the middle of the room when there is wind with the rain. Daily market is closed. People lose their income for the day. No one will venture out in the rain. Small businesses are closed because the workers can't make it into work. Sick people don't go to the clinics. How could they go? They would get drenched. Those who cook on wood face the challenges of finding dry wood. If it rained like this on a Sunday morning, worship services would be postponed until the rain stopped and held later in the day.

The rain is desperately needed by the farmers who  depend on growing their own food to feed their families. So, for them, the rain was most welcome. They hope that their crops will be enough to feed their families for the upcoming year. For me, it was a much appreciated day of rest. Cool temperatures, a book, a cup of tea...Thank You Lord, for refreshing the land and refreshing me!

I'm Tired of...Saying, "Good-bye!"

It has been happening for a long time now. Aid workers have been leaving Lawra. Some return. Some do not. For the last several months, I have been saying "Good-bye." Sometimes the people leaving were close friends. Sometimes they were acquaintances. They all have one thing in common, they left.

I left, too. I left my passport country to live here in Lawra. I said "Good-bye" to family. I said, "Good-bye" to friends. I said "Good-bye to worship in English. I said "Good-bye" to being at weddings and funerals and life celebrations. I said "Good-bye" to a lifestyle.  

I'm tired of saying, "Good-bye." I did it this past week. I said, "Good-bye" to close friends whom I won't see again until at least November. Saying "Good-bye" is the life of a missionary. People come and go. I come and go. Nothing ever stays the same. There's no "status quo" among aid workers in my area. We are always in a state of flux, as I imagine it is with most missionaries and relief workers.

When I arrive in the USA in a few weeks, there will be a ton of, "Hellos" and, "Aren't you glad to be home?" Home? What is home? I don't have one in the US. I live out of a suitcase, borrow a phone and borrow a car. And, just as I have changed during the time I have been away, so have my family and friends. Again, a state of flux. Even worship - in English - will be different because new music will be played, new songs sung. I don't get much of that in Lawra! So, again, I say "Good-bye" to what was familiar...and I try to have an open mind and embrace all that is new while secretly wishing for familiarity.

I will see a lot of people when I am in the US, plenty of people I know, some will be new friends. Again, there will be plenty of "Good-byes" there, too, especially when I will be in a place for a day or two or three. Except for family and a few friends, the comings and goings will be filled with those "Hellos" and "Good-byes." 

And, you know what? Today, I am tired of saying, "Good-bye." Yet, it is a part of my life. A BIG part. So, I will get some sleep and tomorrow morning I will probably feel much better about the situation. And I will take comfort in knowing that the LORD is always near, never leaving, never changing, always the same. 

My Tribute

The Very Rev. Ernest K. Baiden served the Lawra Mission Circuit of the Northern Diocese of the Methodist Church Ghana for three years, from 1 October 2012 until 30 September 2015.  To those in the Lawra area, he was known as Brother, Uncle, Father, Pastor, Reverend and most of all, Beloved Friend. Rev. Baiden looked at his time in Lawra as, “This is where God wants me at this time in my life.” In the church, Rev. Baiden’s number one focus was on the spiritual life of the church. His desire was to see people come into a relationship with Jesus Christ as their Saviour and Lord. He tried to revive and infuse new life into each of the Societies in his charge. Rev. Baiden taught Baptism and Confirmation classes in each Society, as the Caretakers alerted him of the desire of the people to make a public profession of faith. He reestablished the Local Preachers Training Programme within the Circuit, encouraging others to attend the classes and become fully certified Local Preachers. He was ready at a moment’s notice to travel to any village to assist and give comfort to the grieving and brokenhearted people of his congregations. He could often be seen visiting the invalids of the Societies, bringing them communion, encouraging them and praying with them. Many looked at Rev. Baiden as their spiritual father, to the extent for that when people traveled south they would entrust their loved ones to the care of their pastor.

Rev. Baiden was an advocate for the least of those in the community, always lifting up and giving value to the oppressed. He gave dignity to all he met. He was involved in the Special Needs Awareness Programme, helping the families with special needs children realize that their children were important; they were gifts from God, children whose lives should be celebrated. He wiped the tears of many orphans, doing all he could for them. Rev. Baiden was a disciplinarian and did not play favorites. In any situation, if you were correct, he would tell you. And if you were in error, he would tell you that, too. He didn’t believe in rumors, but looked at a person’s character. He sought the truth in all situations.

It was a bittersweet day for the circuit when Rev. Baiden was posted as the Synod Secretary of the Northern Diocese. We celebrated with him. We also grieved at losing his leadership for our circuit. And, now, again, we have to say “Good-Bye” to one who has been Christ to us in so many ways. May his soul rest in perfect peace.

Lawra Be Fit Aerobics Club

It's Saturday morning! The weekend! YAY! I open my eyes just a bit to check the time. It's 5:08. I have to get up. I don't want to. I have to. Why? Because today is Saturday. Today is the meeting of the Lawra Be Fit Aerobics Club. I drag myself out of bed, get dressed, brush my teeth and walk to the basketball court in town. Today the court was filled with bottle caps, a broken beer bottle and droppings from a variety of four legged creatures. Henry has already started the music. Only one other person is there, so far. By the time we get into the more serious stuff, there are 8-15 of us. Obviously, I am the oldest, most are one third my age. Henry has us walk back and forth doing a variety of things with our arms. Then it comes...the Lawra version of the Step Exercises. We use the step around the cement gutter for our step. Oh! I do what I can, I can't always keep up. These young ones act as if they drank eight cups of high test coffee before they came. After a long fifteen or more minutes, we are finished with the step part of the programme. We go through an assortment of cardio exercises and stretches. We do high knee lifts, fancy footwork and they do hopping and jumping type stuff. I keep moving, but, I can't jump (knee replacements.) Then, we actually do floor exercises! Usually, we do sit ups...they do push ups. We do a selection of leg exercises. They plank. Henry tries to add some fun stuff. By the end of the class, I am ready for a nap and it is only 7:00 AM! But, it is good. I have been accepted into this younger group of people who call me "Maakum." (Grandmother)  We have an "Whats App" Group to pass along health information and notices about class. And, Henry has messaged me to find out how I am doing even when I tell him I am traveling and won't make it to class. I am not the best person when it comes to self care. But, this class, this group of young people have really enriched my life in more ways than one. Keep challenging me, Henry!

The Hardest Job of All

Living in a remote area of a developing country can be a blessing and a curse. There are plenty of joys and plenty of sorrows and plenty of challenges. Everything I try to do here takes so much longer than it does in the US. Everything! And it is so much harder, too! For example, I had a list of "office" type stuff to do yesterday. Alas! No electricity and the network for my wifi was less than horrible. I went to plan "B." I put two frozen water bottles next to my carton of milk to keep it cold in the refrigerator. And, one next to the jar of mayonnaise! Shopping can be a challenge most days. And, preaching to a congregation of 10 adults and 40 children, most under the age of 10 definitely makes me rethink how I will preach on Sundays. Driving a motorcycle on bad roads, with bugs hitting my face is common. But, those are not anywhere near the hardest job of all.

"What is your hardest job of all?" you might ask. Well, the hardest job of all, is taking care of myself. I'm getting better at it, but it is a huge challenge. Let's start with Spiritual health. I do have my time with the Lord and His word. We talk. I try to listen. But, I am usually thinking, "I should be doing_____." Fill in the blank. I feel guilty when I spend an extended time in prayer/worship/study. I feel guilty even though I know it is so important here. There are so many things fighting for a person's attention. and, spiritual warfare is very real here. I try not to feel guilty. It is a work in progress. Worship is always in Dagaare. I usually preach, so I am in Scripture a lot. But, I don't hear a message from someone else. I had communion maybe twice in the last year. Christian books are not readily available in my area. Internet reading and Kindle reading are possible, but, sometimes I need the book in hand to underline, highlight and make notes in the margins. Fasting has been added to my spiritual disciplines in order to draw me closer to the Lord.

Physical health...I'll start with food. I haven't seen any fresh fruit here in a few weeks. If I liked tomatoes and okra, I would be fine here. I don't. Meat is very questionable. Cheese? Those little triangles of spreadable cheese, they are available most times. If I didn't eat carbs, there wouldn't be much to eat. I have to travel two hours in a crowded less than safe van to buy cucumbers and sometimes lettuce, although lettuce season is basically over. It is too hot! Exercise...I started walking at least three mornings a week. I try to leave my house between 5:30 and 6:00 since any later, it gets hot! On my walks, I enjoy greeting the people in the community and having an impromptu Dagaare lesson at Ali's Tea Station. It's nice. I also joined the Be Fit Aerobics Club that meets every Saturday morning from 5:30-7:00 outside, on a basketball court. Medical help is available, for basic things. I wanted to get the rabies vaccine in case I ever get bit, it would give me more time to get to a doctor. I had to get it from Kumasi, at least 10 hours away on a good day! Someone here in Lawra gave me the three injections. I have been really sick a few times in the past five years. Ignorance is not bliss! But, now I know if certain things happen, I need to call Vincent, the Physician's Assistant right away.

I'm getting better at taking care of myself. I haven't "arrived" in that area, but, I am taking steps and making progress. This, too, is a journey. I am grateful for all of those who have kept a watchful eye on me when needed. And, I will keep trying...

God is Faithful

During the past week, I was hit square in the face with some of the realities of living in this area. Oh, they were nothing new. But, maybe I saw them in a different light this time. Maybe it was the intensity of the reality. We all live in areas where there are spiritual battles going on. The battles you see and experience may be very different than the battles that I see and experience. Northern Ghana is definitely a spiritual battlefield, even amongst believers. Some days, when I return from a visit to a home in the village, I need the Lord to help me regroup, readjust. 

I think the experiences I had last week opened my eyes to see fresh once again. After being here for five years, I am sorry to say, it can be easy to think, "This is life in Lawra and the surrounding areas." and keep it at that. Between some conversations I had last week and attending a Traditional funeral, once again, my eyes were opened...not only my physical eyes, but my spiritual eyes as well. And, it unsettled me. Part of my problem was that at first, these things didn't bother me. And, that fact bothered me. I don't want to accept things as they are and not see them as the Lord sees them. So, I had to pray for forgiveness and ask the Lord to give me His eyes, His ears, His heart when facing these types of circumstances. In my mind, they should drive me to my knees. 

One thing that I did remember was that God is faithful! What an understatement! He listens to the cries of my heart. He knows what is going on within me even before I do. And He starts to work. I pray that I won't accept these situations as the "status quo," but would begin to seek the Father's will on what my part is when coming to these situations. There is an appointed time and an appointed place for conversation. Until then, may my actions reflect the Father's love to those I meet, especially to those who do not know the unconditional love of the Lord.

Is Ignorance Bliss?

I have been traveling internationally on a regular basis for twenty years now. I have never had any problems, and I thank God for that. Sometimes, I have traveled with a group, or at least another person. Sometimes, I have traveled alone. And, When I have traveled alone, God has always placed someone in my life to watch over me, making sure I found the correct line, the correct gate, etc.

Then, 9/11 happened. Was I afraid to travel then? No. I sincerely believed that the safest place for me was in the center of God's will. And, I thought what I was doing was there - in God's will.He would protect me or give me the strength and courage to endure whatever came my way. 

Now, tonight happened. I was having conversation with Ghanaian and British friends. During the course of our discussion, I found out that one of the terrorists who was involved in the attack on Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso was arrested in Tumu, in the Upper West Region of Ghana. Oh! Now things are getting close to home. 

Am I concerned? Yes. Am I worried? No. I still believe that the safest place to be is in the center of God's will. I will continue to "live smart" and watch what I do and how I act. But, the bottom line is, I have put my life in God's hands. Have you?