The birds are chirping, flies are swarming. My Bible, used peanut butter spoon and cup of coffee attract even more of them, so between every sentence I read, I give a little swat across the page to deter them. Iris, the pastor’s wife, sits across from me in her brightly patterned orange and green skirt and matching top, reading scripture with a pot on the charcoal fire she is tending. A combination of French and Abu is being spoken back and forth between her and her husband. However, the language doesn’t matter because I don’t understand either one, and charades can take you a long way.
There’s cloud cover this morning – praise Jesus. I have a pot of water on to boil and am waiting patiently for my cup of coffee – the only comfort I have from home out here. I get heat spouts all of a sudden and have to fan myself as I am profusely sweating. It’s as if i just got out of the shower.. minus the soap.
I found a place for my hammock, a safe haven for sanity here, but because we have to wear dresses as soon as we exit our bedroom door, lounging in a hammock in a dress is a tad difficult. So I sit in a wooden chair with my feet propped up on a plastic stool. It smells of dew, fire, coffee, and a distinct “African” smell, similar to wet dirt.
Kelsay and I preached a 6 day sermon series on the Resurrection and it’s been really neat to see our personal ministry thrive as we go out and share Bible stories to invite people to church and then see them at the church service at night. I’ve definitely grown in seeing the power of the parables and why Jesus shared the gospel that way. (Jesus is much easier to understand in story form than trying to explain a obscure passage about Hosea as a Christ figure and how we are all Gomer’s.)
Finding relatable stories and explaining how God is faithful and sent His Son for us are the basic principles the people in the village were eager to hear. It hit me the last night, looking at all these people in church agreeing with Kelsay’s message about living a resurrected life even through the suffering. I was thinking, Wow even in their lack – especially in their lack, they are agreeing that they need and want to live for Jesus in the hurt. They want to have us pray healing over them.
Even if they are coming because we are white, at least this gives us a chance to share the gospel, and the love that Jesus has for them.
Our God is a God of hope. West Africa has been hands down the hardest time for me on the Race thus far, but I cling to the hope that I have, and the calling He has placed on my life to share this hope with others. And what a privilege that is!
** UPDATE: After a 13 hour bus ride, a few bathroom stops in the bushes, and a meningitis checkpoint, we have arrived in GHANA! We are at debrief for a few more days before we head out ministry with our new teams for the month!
