A Little Bit of “Home”

 

This morning, it was tough to get out of bed. I had my windows open and it was a bit chilly in my apartment. I had hoped to go to Dominion Valley Park for the church service. Since it was the Gospel Music Festival, I knew the music and the preaching would be great. But, with the cooler temperatures and rain in the forecast for the day, I decided not to go. Now, what do I do? I really wanted to stay home and listen to a service online. Then, I realized that it was Pentecost Sunday. I had to go to church. So, I hurried and got ready to go to worship with my brothers and sisters in Christ. 

I decided to worship at a church that I had visited a couple of times before. This small congregation was very welcoming. And, as I sat there, listening to announcements and all the stuff that seemed to go on before the “official” start of the service, I realized something. My organized self wanted things to get moving, start on time, end on time, everything during the service should be orchestrated perfectly. It wasn’t. What I realized was that this was a community of believers, invested and truly interested in each other’s lives. They shared news of what was happenening and praised God for working in their lives and in the lives of others. They were invested more in relationships than in following the clock to the minute. It was obvious that they loved the Lord and each other and they shared that love with whoever walked through the church doors. 

The service reminded me of church in Kalsagri, one of the small village churches that I served in Ghana. Powerful prayers. Lively music. Instead of ushers taking the offering, people walked up and gave it ( In Ghana, they danced up to give the offering), walking around and praying when the Spirit moved people to do so. Powerful preaching with an altar call and a specific challenge to live the week ahead for Christ, leaving a legacy that reflects Christ and Christ alone. This church was a glimpse into the services at Kalsagri. Those services were longer, louder, livelier. I know that you may think I am out of place in a church like I was in today. I’m quieter. I kinda stay in my pew and don’t move around much. It took me a long time to loosen up when in Kalsagri. But, just because I’m “just sitting there” doesn’t mean the Spirit isn’t working in me. I appreciate the church where I worshipped today. It was like being home. And, if God can do that for me, imagine what He can do for you!

Be blessed today. 

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!

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. 

44 Days

44 days! Yes, 44 days. I have been back in the US for 44 days. It's been a time of laughter and a time of tears. It's been a time of joy and sorrow. It's been a time of relaxation and work. It's been a time of travel and of staying put. Yes, life here in the US is full of paradoxes. It's nice to be here, but I wonder what is going on at home. I feel torn at times. I'm enjoying being with family, reconnecting with friends and loving the hot and cold running water. Yet, I wonder, "How is Uncle Christopher's funeral going? How is Razak and the family doing in the midst of their grief? How is Boniface and Pius? Are they getting ready to go back to school? How is the church doing? Will Matthias be able to take the Local Preacher's Test?" and a lot more!

Still, while I am here, I am able to share their stories, the stories that are being written by their lives. I can share with others how God is working in the villages of Kalsagri and Kunyukuo. So far, I have told their stories more than 15 times in formal, scheduled settings and numerous times in a relaxed informal setting.

I have also taken time to visit family, enjoy the company of friends and, to see dentists and doctors, too. This morning I will travel to see some dear friends and their family. There will be food, fellowship and sharing what God has been doing in our lives and in the lives of those we love both near and far. Tomorrow, I will be sharing at another church. I love to tell the story. I am amazed at what God has done and continues to do. And, I wonder what He will do in the next 68 days!

Just Like Home, Only Better

I left my home in Lawra on September 30, what seems like a lifetime ago. The original plan was to travel to Albania to attend a conference, enjoy a few days of touring, return to Ghana and enjoy a few days at the beach and return to Lawra by October 22 or 23, at the latest. Now, it is October 31. And guess where I am! In Accra, Pokawase, to be exact. I am staying at a friend's house, which I lovingly call "The Jackson Inn." A few medical issues have kept me here in the south where doctors and dentists are readily available. There is a hotel advertized at the airport in Johannesburg, South Africa called The Jackson Inn. It's selling point, "Just Like Home, Only Better."

That's how my Jackson Inn is, just like home, only better. I have my own room...just like home. I have good food from which to choose my meals....better than home. I have a driver to take me shopping and to the dentist...better than home. There are friends to take me to the doctor (a really nice clinic)...better than home. There is a pharmacy close by with medicines that are not available in Lawra...better than home. Hot showers...better than home. Solar panels for when the lights go off...better than home. A clothes washing machine...better than home. And, there are friends around (who I don't see very often) to fuss over me and encourage me and with whom I can spend time...better than home.

But, home is where the heart is. It is where my bed is. It is where my study Bible is. It is where Slake, my stuffed giraffe is. And, even though I love being at the Jackson Inn, I miss Lawra. Oh, don't get me wrong...I am very grateful I am here at the Inn. I have had a broken crown which resulted in a root canal, and illnesses which put me in a clinic for several hours with an IV drip and very low blood pressure. October has not been a healthy month for me. But, if I needed to be sick, being at the Jackson Inn is the best place to be! God has truly shown me, I am not alone here! 

The Comforts of Home

 



When I moved to Ghana in February 2011, I brought with me necessities...towels, sheets, clothes, flashlight, insect repellent...oh, and Mr. Mooey! When I returned to Ghana in March 2013, from my visit to the USA, I brought "the comforts of home." My home was comfortable before I left. But, now, it is truly a space where I can rest, relax and renew as well as work, receive guests and bless others. Here is a partial list of the "comforts" that came to Ghana with me:

~ Heinz Ketchup, made in the USA

~ Yankee candles

~ a variety of Bibles

~ more sheets & towels

~ a flip flop shaped pillow (for my beach themed bed room)

~ a variety of crosses for a collage on my living room wall

~ DECAF coffee, hazelnut is my favorite!

~ hazelnut and vanilla flavored coffee creamer

~ pots and pans

~ Starbucks coffee mugs and a mug tree

~ an iPod and tiny speaker

~ slippers

~ STAMPING SUPPLIES...stamps, inks, papers, ribbons, glue, punches, etc.

~ pictures of family and friends

~ office supplies

~ journals

~ decorative pillows

~ a french press

~ books

 

Even without all these "spoiled American" items, God has helped me make my house a home. But, I am getting older and I am here for the long haul. Thank You, Lord for providing all of this for me!



Home at Last!

 

Monday evening, March 4, after three uneventful flights, I finally arrived in Ghana. All my luggage arrived safe and sound, and I am grateful that I did not have to open my cases as I went through customs. If I had, I don't know if I would have been able to close them again! At the airport, a colleague of mine, Charlie Jackson, met me and graciously took me to his family's home where I would spend the next few days. The Jacksons had moved since I left for the US, and they carefully moved ALL of the stuff I left at their house along with their own things. I spent Tuesday shopping for meat, trying to get Internet and applying for and receiving my non-citizen Ghanaian ID card. Wednesday was a holiday, so a few of us went to Independence Square for the festivities. It was a lot of fun, so the resulting sunburn didn't seem to matter. Thursday, I finished my shopping...including buying a Ghanaian rocking chair! God is so good! Then, Friday, at 5:15 am, I began my trip north. Anokye, my driver, packed the truck, we "settled in", and drove straight through stopping only for gas. We arrived in Lawra around 7 pm. One of the blessings was that we did not have to drive through Accra. That would have added a bit of time to our trip!

 

I enjoyed my time in the US. But, as Dorothy said in The Wizard of Oz, "There's no place like home!" I am grateful for each and every one of you who have made my home-coming a reality. God bless you!



Going Home

Today I begin my journey home.I have been in the US for six months, two months longer than I had planned. I am anxious to go home, to sleep in my own bed. But, going home is costly, too. Costly not in monetary value, but in other ways. When I am home, it costs me the opportunity to be with family and those friends that I have know for so long. It costs me the opportunity to worship in my heart language. It costs me the "comforts" I have gotten used to...grocery stores, easy access to medical services, fast internet. It costs me family get-togethers for celebrations and grieving. I could go on, but I won't. I pay the cost joyfully.

In exchange, I live among the world's most amazing people! And, the most beautiful children! I have the privilege of learning a language that most people never heard of, and I am exposed to a whole new cuisine. I am given the opportunity to work with and love, the least, last and lost in the Upper West Region of Ghana. I work along side some very gifted people. And, I LOVE it! The cost isn't so much if I take time to count the blessings. 

Thank you, Lord, for this next chapter of my Great Adventure with You.

Displaced

My original three month stay in the United States has turned out to be a six month stay due to doctor and dentist appointments, specifically, a dental implant. I have had the opportunity to visit and spend time with friends and family. I have truly enjoyed those times. God has blessed me through the love and the friendship of all these wonderful people. They have opened up their homes to me, let me use their cars, cooked for me and provided for me in numerous ways. And, I am very grateful. But, there is this feeling within me, a feeling that tells me I am a displaced person. I don't belong here.

There is a yearning in my heart and soul. I yearn for home. I long to sleep in my own bed, to have my clothes put away where they belong - in my closet, not in a suitcase. I want to mosey into my own kitchen, where pots and pans and utensils that are familiar are and cook a meal. I want to be able to take my basket of Bibles and devotional books out on the veranda in the morning. I want to sit by candle light and read a book when the electricity goes off. I miss riding my bicycle into town to buy bread or phone units or Internet time. And, I actually miss hand washing my clothes and the sense of accomplishment I have when they are hanging on the line to dry. I long to worship in my church, sitting amongst the children. I actually miss going to market and then washing everything before I can eat it. I miss my colleagues in Lawra. I wonder how the special needs kids are doing. I wonder about my friends and their families...were they able to farm enough to provide food until the next farming season? How is the new pastor doing? Does he feel a sense of home in Lawra? And, how is my beloved bishop doing?

So many of these questions won't be answered until I return. My return to home won't be soon enough. Four weeks from today, I will be in Ghana. I'm not sure when I will return to Lawra. I need to do some grocery shopping in Accra first. I know, when I return, I won't be traveling until I have to attend Synod in May. I long for home. I need home, and by God's grace, I'll be returning home soon!

I'll Be Home for Christmas

 

When I realized I would be in the United States to celebrate Christmas, I was so excited. I called my sister and said, "You know that song, I'll be Home for Christmas ? Pretend I am singing it to you."We were both pretty excited. But, now, I miss my home in Ghana. I miss my kids. So, this is for them...

 

I'll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

 

 

Please have snow and mistletoe,

And presents on the tree.

 

 

Christmas Eve will find me

Where the lovelight gleams,

I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams.

  

There won't be snow. There won't be mistletoe. There won't be a Christmas tree. There won't be presents. But, there will be love of family and friends, celebrating Christ's birth. Merry Christmas to my "family" in Ghana. I miss you. I will be there with you...in my dreams!

Homesick

I have been in the United States for 56 days. I have been in four time zones, spoken in a formal setting 26 times, taken a course in Seattle (which I am still working on and have classes to attend), spoken numerous times, informally, driven all over the state of Pennsylvania and flown to others, slept in many more beds than I actually want to count. And I am tired, very tired.

 

My schedule has lightened up a bit. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I actually will be sleeping in the same bed five days in a row this week. But, I have to admit it. I am HOMESICK. I am homesick for my home in Lawra. I want my slower life, with the dirt and bugs and unstable electricity. I want to be among "my kids" with their dirty hands, big smiles and bare bottomed babies. I want to be with Akos as she prepares to attend Senior Secondary School. I want to be the spoiled American who takes that "first day of school" picture. I miss Janette and Sarah, colleagues of mine who work in the Lawra area. I miss the special needs kids. I miss my friends, Rose and Razak and Dora and Habib. I miss not being there to welcome the new pastor. But, mostly, I miss home.

 

Home...a place to hang your hat. A place to rest, relax, renew. A place to question. A place to find answers. A place to clean. A place to study. A place to cook. A place to be with friends. A place to reflect. A place to think. A place to scream. A place to shout. A place to pray. A place of no resistance. A place of surrender. A place of sanctuary. A place of my own. Home...

Sanctuary

While living in western Pennsylvania there were many times and seasons of life when I felt as if I was distant from God & He from me. It seemed as if prayers were just bouncing off of walls and ceilings. I would become a person whom barely resembled the real "me." During those times, and others, I knew I needed God. I knew I needed to spend time with Him, open my heart to Him and pour out all the feelings and emotions and "stuff" and just let Him be God. I needed to know He was right there with me, beside me every step of the way. And, I knew that there were many times He carried me. I knew I had to leave the distractions of my job and my home and be alone with Him - no distractions. The sanctuary became that place for me. It has been a place where I could open myself up and be honest with God. I could let the walls come down. Since then, the sanctuary has become "home" to me. Safe. Secure. Holy. I don't need a crisis to be there. I just need to be closer with God and the sanctuary, no matter where I was, turned out to be that place - even in Ankaase, Ghana!

Since I have moved to Lawra, the sanctuary has not been a place of peace and refreshment. It has not been a "safe" and secure place where I could bare my soul to the Lord. Church politics, the knowledge that people always expect me to do something, provide something be some one, they have all kinds of expectations of me. I can't fill them. No one can. So, the sanctuary has not been that restful place for me...

Until last Wednesday. I woke up with a compulsion in my spirit to go to the sanctuary. I knew God was waiting for me there, He would meet me. I was not in a state of crisis or "woe is me." But, I guess I just needed that quality time with the Lord. So, I went.

And, I knew I was "home"!

There's no Place Like Home

There's no place like home, there's no place like home...and I have been home in Lawra for a week now. It is so good to be here. I have missed my own bed, my kids, my friends and my church family. Although circumstances and situations may drive me crazy (and to my knees) at times, there is still no place like home!

This past week seemed to be more hectic than most, but it could be my imagination since I haven't been here in a month. The week started out with worship...a good place to start! Then, two meetings with the bishop and the staff and management of Lawra Methodist Integrated Health Programme. Next, language lessons and visiting the kids, cleaning out toys, getting shelves fixed, hanging a mosquito net, Bible study, market, surprise visits from friends, laundry, quarterly meeting at church, preparing to lead staff Bible study, post office, customs, immigration, bank, paying bills, every day type of "stuff to do" and finding out on Friday that I was to preach on Sunday...plus more!

My spirit is being refreshed and renewed that God's mercies are new every morning. That He is always here with me and I can do all things not in my strength, but in His. And, as long as I remain in Him, I will always be home!

Home

Home. We all want to be at home, to feel at home. But, as I traveled to Ghana, I wondered, "Will I feel as if I'm at home?" After all, I would be there for two months.

Ken Medema has a song entitled "Home." It mentions all the things I think of when I think of being home. Home is a place to hang your hat, a place to spread my clothes, a place that is safe and warm, a place to stand and shout, a place to sit and cry, a place to think things out, a place to wonder why. Home is a place where I can scream, a place where I can dream, a place to sleep in peace, a place to be revived, a place for growing old, a place to face my death.

Is it really possible to feel at home, to be at home half way across the world in a culture that is so different than the one I live in? Yes, it is. I have come to the conclusion that home doesn't have to have 5 rooms and a bath. It doesn't have to have a couch, comfy chairs, a television, microwave, bedroom set or even a toilet seat (although I do appreciate the fact that I do have a toilet seat!) It doesn't have to have a closet full of clothes and shoes or a closet full of sheets and towels or even space for stuff that I "might need." All I need for a place to be home is to know that I am in the will of God. Sometimes that isn't easy. Sometimes being in the will of God is a journey and not a destination. It's during the journey that the concept of being home is hard to grasp at times.

I'm on that journey now. I'm living here in the states, but, my heart is in Ghana. As I seek God's will for my life I am home, but I want to know the earthly destination. Where will I be in a year? In two years? In five years? I hope that the answer will be, "at home, in God's will."