I shuffled hesitantly through the line toward security at
the Portland airport, waving back at my family. Soon I hunkered down into my
window seat on the plane, blinking back burning tears. Between naps I wrote
words , honest prayers of a heart raw from a season of difficulty and hurt.
Words like "fear", "help me", "trust",
"revive me". I did not know that what seemed like an ill-timed
journey would become a milestone in my story.
"You, O Lord
keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light..." Ps. 18
"If I rise on
the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your
hand will guide me." Psalm 139:9
Day 1:
I woke up today in Africa....
The moment my feet reached Ghana soil I was greeted with
warmth. Literal humidity, yes, but especially the dispositions of the people
who lived there. Hugs, smiling eyes enthusiastic to see one from a far away
land. Thrown into a leadership role on our team, I felt as if I was placed onto
a fast-paced treadmill that my feet could not keep up with. I myself had
nothing to contribute; I was emotionally & spiritually empty. Yet there was
a gentle, but rock solid force sustaining me, driving me forward if only one
hesitant step at a time.
Day 3:
First day in the schools today. PB & J, long
bus ride, team members quickly preparing a plan, dusty courtyard. 1200 kids in
uniform surrounding me. Oh, their faces. Their smiles. “Can I be your friend?”
says the 8-year-old girl who has linked her arm in mine. I shake their hands
and they don’t let go. They touch my arm- wondrous eyes at the comparison of
light and dark. Little fingers run through my hair. Dramas performed, we shared
Jesus and asked who would like to pray. Little arms reach in the air, eager to
show their commitment to Jesus. I explain that they are God’s children and He
loves them. I will see them again at the party in Heaven. They giggle. Heaven
opens. Angels rejoice. My soul sings. These are your beloved ones, God. I am just happy to be
here, sharing how my life has changed because of you.
The next week was filled with hundreds more children, the
distribution of fliers advertising the festival we were putting on the next
week, and many opportunities to be patient with the Ghanian's relaxed planning
style. I was asked to be a sort of diplomat for local pastors; my mission was
to ask headmasters of schools if they would let our American team give them a
presentation. A man named Seth drove me around in a blue car that seemed to be
made out of tin. We cruised over potholes and weaved between traffic as he
chauffered me from school to school. "They will see your angelic white
face and they will say yes" he excitedly spoke as a toothy white grin
gleemed on his face. As if The Lord had already cleared the path for us, every
headmaster gave their consent.
Day 6:
Such joy and love in Ghana. God bring a revival in
their hearts. Bring a revival in mine too...
We helped put on a 3-day Festival called Ghanafest 2012
in the large public square that was right on the Atlantic coast, complete with
skateboarders, African & American musicians, and the bold Gospel words
shared by Reid. Trained as a counselor, I was privileged to pray with multiple
women to receive Christ. I will never forget the utter peaceful content written
on their faces. We danced and sang together after and I asked, "How do you
feel?"
"I feel so happy!" was their reply. Their words
came out sweetly as if in a song. I turned my eyes toward Heaven, cried, and
breathed a prayer of gratitude.
I often look back and wonder if it was the country of
Ghana that left such an indelible mark on my life or something else. Now, a
year later, I see that traveling to Africa was the catalyst to healing. Healing
could have found me while I was back at home or on any other continent for that
matter, but I see God's hand in choosing Africa as the setting to this
beautiful chapter of my life. He needed to get me to be so far away from
comfort, from familiarity, from family that I had no other choice but to lean
into Him. As I leaned heavily into Him, so aware of my desperate need, I
re-discovered something. I discovered a steady rhythmic beat, the heartbeat of
my loving Father, completely unchanged and unaffected by the waves of change in
my life. His heartbeat pulsed like the drums of the rastafarian men I met in a
market place. A rhythm of constancy, a rhythm of celebration, a rhythm of love
for me, His treasured one. Despite what my circumstances had told me to
feel, I knew then with such deep conviction that my God was and always will be
good. I could trust His heart.
A year ago in a place across the sea, I found healing. Or
rather, healing found me. And as I danced and laughed with my whole heart,
hand-in-hand with African brothers and sisters, I rediscovered joy.
"You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing.
You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy, that I
might sing praises to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you
thanks forever!" ~Psalm 30
