The Night Fires

Last night, I was watching a movie and I heard a noise. It sounded as if great, big, fat drops of rain were hitting the ground. I thought, "Praise God, it's raining." We haven't had rain for six weeks. I went out on the veranda and looked closely - I almost held out my hand to feel the drops. Then, I saw it. The fires. To the left of my house & behind it, the fires were eating up the dry grasses. They were making a popping and crackling sound. The sky was lit with orange. And, when the wind started blowing, it urged the fires on towards the front of the house. After 15 or 20 minutes, it was over. The flames had died down and the fire department hosed the ashes with water. Now, there are large black areas where just 2 months ago, grasses, flowers and other plants grew. It is just a way of life here. The rainy/growing season, then after harvest the drier seasons and time to allow the gifts of the harvest to see us through the rest of the year. I wonder if it is like going up to the mountain top and then returning to the valley to put into use what God has taught me. A time to remember what God has done in the past and will continue to do. For He is faithful and I am thankful!

The Power of "AND"

Have you ever thought of what you cannot do alone? You can't play Marco Polo in the swimming pool when alone. You can't get engaged alone. You can't have a surprise birthday party with just yourself. And, water skiing...how do you do that alone? Imagine being in a sack race alone...hmmm, I don't think it is possible. A person cannot truly live alone; there are clothes and groceries to buy, mail to send and receive, bills to pay...even "on line friends" and social networks!

There is power in the word "AND." Who would Beany be without Cecil? Or Rogers without Hammerstein? Fred Flintstone without Wilma? Chip without Dale? Mickey without Minnie? Would we realize there are mountains if there were no valleys? What about experiencing the refreshment of a rainfall without experiencing the heat? Or, how comforting would a warm fire be if it were not cold outside?

Even these things mentioned need their counterparts to be fully appreciated. With humans, the power of "AND" is even more important. If we live in community, working together, sharing ideas, helping each other, what an impact we would make. No longer would there be youth or adult, but now, youth AND adult, old AND new, tall AND short, experienced AND apprentice, teacher AND learner, beginning AND end, Alpha AND Omega, Father AND Son, elder AND youngster, God AND man, mercy AND grace, strength AND weakness, foolish AND wise...black AND white, faith AND works, instruction AND example...the list goes on.

What I am trying to say is that we are much, much more together than we are apart. If we use that to the glory of God, what a difference it could make for His Kingdom!

Out of the Mouths of Children - A Tribute to "Daddy Philip"

Yesterday, the earthly body of a friend, Philip Tabiri was laid to rest. He was only 42 years old, leaving a wife, three young sons (ages 6, 4, and 2 years) and an adopted daughter (7 years). The funeral service was beautiful, a celebration of his life and a testimony to his faith. The tributes given by family and friends...my words cannot describe them. Ghanaians verbalize so many things much differently than Americans. I would like to share with you the tribute to Philip that was from his children...

"We are too young to understand what is happening, too feeble to bear this pain and too weak to face the challenges that come with it. The atmosphere is not the one we like.

"Everybody is crying in the house without telling the cause. We asked, 'Where is our Dad?' We are told, 'He is gone to Accra, never to return again.' Yet, here we are with our father lying motionless, stiff and fearful looking. Daddy, get up and talk to us! We don't like the way you appear now. You cannot leave us like that. Oh God, have mercy on us!

"Is it true that we will not see our father again to talk with him, play and lie on him? Who is that cruel to treat us so unkindly? We can never forgive you, death. Death, where are you? Come so that we shoot you. This is never fair. Oh God, come to our rescue!

"We have no confidence in anyone except Daddy Philip. Who else can understand our behavior as you do? We can imagine how difficult life will be without the father's support.We know you left us with Christ Jesus. Today we bid you farewell in deepest agony. Thank you and may God give you place in heaven."

Cultural Test

You have all heard the saying, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." I have been trying to live with the saying changed just a bit: "When in Ghana do as the Ghanaians do." This weekend has been a "cultural test" for me. When Itravel I want to know when, where, how, how much... But, the people I know just say, "Today I will travel to_______." They may know they will go by lorry & bus, but that's it. They will go to the bus station & wait in line for a ticket (at 4 AM) and go from there.

I left home Thursday. I took the lorry to Wa and spent the night. I got up at 3 AM yesterday to leave at 4 AM for the bus station. The taxi showed up at 4:30. I waited an hour for a ticket to Wenchi (traveling on a bus to Kumasi). The bus left Wa at 6:60 AM & arrived in Wenchi at 11:30. I got off, asked directions to Wenchi Methodist Hospital and began my walk. When I arrived at the hospital, I spent time with people (in the administrative office) I had never met before. The driver, who I had just met, took me to my accommodations which were made for me. I am leaving today for the lorry station with someone I just met yesterday. He will drop me off & I will ride the Lorry to the funeral in Nchiraa, wherever that is! There, I will return to Wenchi with people who work at the hospital. After that, hmmm...I need to buy a bus ticket to Accra. It might mean another 3AM day!

Sometimes, it seems as if it is hurry up & wait all day. But, it has been exciting. I can see God's hand in so much. I may not know which bus I will ride or what time I will arrive, but He does. And, he has placed people along the way to make sure I don't get lost or frustrated or discouraged. All I get (besides being very thankful) is lots of cultural input! WHEN (not if) I make it to Accra safely, I will know I have passed my "cultural test."

God be with You Until We Meet Again!

This morning as I rode the lorry out of Lawra, I was almost sad. I guess you would say that it was a "bittersweet" moment. Yesterday I said, "God be with you until we meet again" to my language helper and dear brother in Christ, Raymond Dery. Dery will be leaving for Tamale next week where he will begin his first assignment as a pastor with the Methodist Church Ghana. I was spared that farewell, because I left first!

I am not planning to be back in Lawra for almost a month. I have a funeral, a dentist appointment, meetings in Thailand and some "down time" before I return home. But, as I write this from Wa, I am already missing home and the opportunity to spend even a few more hours with Dery learning more Dagaare, picking up some more cultural pointers, discussing Scripture and families and friends and work and farming and harvest and...well, you get the idea! God has blessed me with someone who was very patient and encouraging as I learned the basics of Dagaare. I know He has already provided "follow up" people...Gifty, Rose, Rose (there are 2 Roses, it isn't a mistake), Razak, Dora, Alex, Dery's parents...and the list goes on.

I am excited to hear how God will use Dery while he is in Tamele. I know people will be blessed, God will be glorified and the Kingdom of God will be enlarged.

"Dery, may God be with you until we meet again...and beyond! Blessings, my dear friend."

Accepting or Embracing?

I was online, "chatting" with a friend recently. She had commented on the way I have accepted the life style change and all that goes with it. The comment has caused me to ponder quite a bit this week. Acceptance? Me? I didn't accept Paul's death very well. And, there are times when I don't readily accept the task at hand, not because of it being so foreign to my American mind, but "just because." Acceptance...what does that really mean?

According to the Encarta Dictionary, one of the definitions of acceptance is willingness to believe: willingness to believe that something is true. As a Christian, this type of acceptance has been part of my life for quite a long time, even though some things are harder to accept than others. But, this is not the acceptance my friend was referring to. The acceptance she meant is defined as coming to terms with something: the realization of a fact or truth and the process of coming to terms with it.

Life in Ghana is a chain of accepting things as they are...the man pictured above is blind. He has accepted that fact. And, he was "reading" Scripture when I took the picture. People here accept the seasons of life much better than they do in America. They accept suffering and illness. They accept hard work, sometimes with little in return. They accept life without all the comforts and hang ups and things that enslave many Americans. They are an inspiration to me!

But, me? Accepting? I never thought of myself that way.All I know is that if I get upset because I have to wait more than an hour for transport to Wa, it will be a really long day! If I get upset over lack of food choices, what am I doing living in Lawra? If I get upset over the lack of hot water or electricity, what am I doing in Ghana? I am where God has led me. I am at home. And I am not just "accepting" life as it is in Lawra, I am EMBRACING it to the glory of God my Father! May His will be done!

Why?

I've been "writing" this post in my mind this past week. Still, I wonder what words will end up here. There is so much I don't understand and probably never will this side of heaven. On August4, 2011, a family was discharged from the Methodist Orphan and Vulnerable Child Centre. The mother, and four children, Papula (7 years), Sara, Rose and Paul (28 month old triplets) were being discharged to live in the village with the children's father/the mother's husband. They had been living at the Centre since the triplets were 4 days old. It was a tough day. Papula didn't want to leave her friends. But, the move was made and everyone adapted well to life in the village.

then, last Sunday, September 11, 2011, the mother and the three girls arrived at church during the worship service. The two younger girls had IV ports on the back of their hands. Papula and her mother were silently crying. (It is not appropriate to "weep and wail" in public.) All three of the triplets had been seriously ill. The were admitted to Lawra Regional Hospital for treatment. (I still don't know the nature of their illness.) Paul died that morning.

Who was taking care of these children? Who was making sure they had safe drinking water? Who was making sure they had enough food to eat? Who was making sure they were being protected from mosquitoes? Who was making sure they received proper medical care when it was needed?

I have so many questions! In the midst of it all God is still God and He is still good. I want to know why this child died. His death seems as if it is a needless death, a preventable one. I wonder...How do missionary doctors handle the "needless" and "preventable" deaths they see everyday? I pray that God will give the the strength, courage and wisdom to continue their life saving work. It is not in vain.

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Have you ever heard the phrase, "Don't sweat the small stuff...and it's all small stuff"? Sometimes I wonder if the person who coined the phrase ever had their computer crash. I wonder if they ever had one of those days when everything goes wrong. I wonder if they ever had one of those days when they burned dinner for company arriving in five minutes. I wonder if they ever had blood gushing from their finger, wondering if it is okay...

Living in Ghana has opened my eyes to so many things. I have seen people literally make life and death decisions every day. I have seen mothers wonder how their children will be fed on a particular day. I have seen both children and adults drink the nastiest looking water. I have seen parents wonder if their child will live or die in the next 24 hours. I have seen people not only survive, but gratefully live with very meager means. Then, there's me...

I have wonderful family and friends both in America and here in Ghana. I have wonderful friends all over the globe. And, they ask me, "Sue, what do you want me to send you?" "Sue, what can bring you from Accra?" "Sue, how can we help you and your kids?"And, I answer them with my lists, my requests. But, more and more, I have been prefacing these lists, these requests with the words, "These are WANTS, none of these things are NEEDS."

Living in this type of culture/environment changes a person. The changes come slowly, discreetly, but, they do come. A person comes to realize what is important in life. And, even if it is a pair of glasses that don't arrive when I thought they would, life still goes on without them. It's no big deal. The things that matter...faith, hope and love. And the most important of these is love, the love God has for a fallen world and the love we give to Him and to others. The rest is small stuff.

Just One Little Drop

In the world's eyes, I am just a "normal" person. I haven't accomplished any great feat or have never found a cure for a incurable disease, my grades in school were just average. I am just like most of the world...a sinner. Yet, I have been saved by grace. And, THAT is what makes all the difference in the world!

Living in Ghana, in the Upper West Region, is no big deal. Not to me anyway. I have gotten involved in the life of the local church, in the lives of the children living at the Centre and in the administration of the clinic. People in the community have noticed that I am becoming more and more a part of them. Yet, here, I am not doing any "big" or "great" thing - in my eyes.

I spoke with someone today who had just returned from seeing the bishop of the Northern Ghana Diocese. Evidently, I was one of the topics of conversation. It seems that living everyday life in an area in which I live has created a ripple effect. People have been noticing, watching. Lives have been touched in one way or another. Encouragement has been received. People are being empowered. None of it is in "big, huge ways" but in individual lives. Yet, who knew? I was unaware. Praise God that He can use someone ordinary, like me, to do His work!

A New Name

Names are very important to Ghanaians. The Dagaaba people are no exception. A name can tell a lot about who you are, the circumstances of your birth or of your family. For example: Dery is a name given to a baby boy after a previous baby boy in the family died as an infant. Debuo is a name given to a child whose father died before the child was born. Barvier is a name given to a child who has been born on the final day of the Bari Festival (a Traditional festival) if there were no casualties during the festival. Bonyelli, the name of one of the girls who lives at the centre, means "What have I done? What is wrong?" (These questions are coming from the mother.) Papula is the name given to a child who has been born with fair skin, even though the skin darkens with time. Ayou is given to a child whose parents died while the child are still young.

So, when Dery told me that I was becoming a "Dagaarapog" - a Dagaara woman - he said I needed a Dagaara name. Hmmm...most of the ones I have heard have not been very positive. But, Dery said he would pray and let me know what name comes to mind. Monday, he told me my name..."Wasonti" (pronounced wa (a as in want) sewn tea) which is made up of three words. "Wa" means come, "son" means help, "ti" means us..."come help us." He said that God had sent me here to help the people, so the name fits well. I pray that I can "live up to my name" with God's help. I do not want to be an enabler. I want to be an "empower-er!"

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"!

Sacrificial Giving

I like to think of myself as a "giving" person, a person who gives of myself and my resources because I want to, not because I have to. But, have I really given sacrificially? Have I ever given from a standpoint of costing me something? Have ever I given out of my "poverty?" I think in my entire lifetime I have, but only a few times. Usually I give out of my excess. And, many times that excess seems to be need & I want to hang on to whatever it is instead of letting it go.

Thursday, I rode my bicycle to the Dery yir (the Dery house). I had to deliver some notices for church on Friday morning, but had never been to the house, so this was my "practice run." I met Dery's mother and father and other members of the household. After visiting for a time, I got up to leave. As is the custom, Dery got up to walked me and my bicycle down the path to the main road. He had put a bag of groundnuts in my bicycle basket for me to take home and enjoy. Dery's family grows enough food to feed themselves without extra to sell at the market. This year, someone allowed the goats to eat some of the crops. There really isn't any "extra" food to share or to give away. Yet, that's exactly what Dery did. He gave sacrificially. It cost him and his family food for a meal or more. He gave from his heart, out of his poverty, trusting God will provide.

When have I last given like that? Lord, teach me Your way of giving!

A Holy Detachment

I wrote this last Friday, but could not get online. I am "connected" now, so here is what I wrote:

Today is “one of those” days. My mind has been preoccupied with thoughts and prayers for one of the children who were discharged from the Centre yesterday. The children went with their mother to live in Biafor with their father, other siblings and their father’s other two wives and their families.

By American standards, the children did not have much while they lived in Lawra at the Centre. But, they had a bedroom with beds in it, screening on the windows to keep out the mosquitoes, clean water was close by, the school was near and…there were children around to play with – friends. At their new home, they will sleep on the floor. The window does have a screen on it, but not a metal one and it already has a hole in it. The water and school are not as close as they were here in Lawra. There are children around…step brothers and sisters as well as older brothers. There are children in the village, too.

The triplets, Sara, Rose and Paul are almost 2 ½ years old. They will quickly adapt to their new surroundings. Papula, though, may be a bit different. She is 7 years old. She knows what she had in Lawra. Now, those things, those people are gone…her friends, her bed, what she has come to know as “home” over the past two plus years.

I talked with Papula, prayed with her and said, “Good bye.” When I left Papula was crying. I know she needs to be with her family. I know that she is not alone. Now, I have to let go and let God be God. He knows what’s best. He will watch over her. I have to believe that and trust Him. He watches over the “least, the last and the lost.” I am so grateful that my God is a God who cares. It is now my turn to “let go and let God.”