The One Thing That Makes Us Pause

Usually we make our way through town at seemingly reckless speeds, given the amount and variety of traffic with which we’re sharing the road. We honk as we approach motorbikes, goats, sheep, chickens, pedestrians, and slower vehicles, swerving around them if there’s room. Because the others on the road understand how things work, they move to the shoulder so that we can go around them. Even the animals know to skitter out of the way of a honking vehicle! Obviously we manage to get around quite safely, and because I lived in Egypt as a child, it truly hasn’t been alarming to me. =D I just said “seemingly reckless” because I realize that accurately describes the perception of most westerners.

There’s one thing for which we stop, however, and that’s cattle. These big creatures move at their own pace and won’t be hurried by any amount of honking. So we stop and wait until they deign to let us pass.

When you see this out your front window,

you wait until everything has passed before proceeding

The Most Important Ministry

The longer I’m in Ghana, the more I realize how vital prayer is. The entire ministry with which I work basically exists and functions because of prayer. Millions of dollars have flowed through its doors, and in the economically destitute northern region of Ghana, there’s no explanation for this fact other than prayer.

You, my friends and family back home, are an incredible blessing in faithfully lifting me up before God’s throne room. When I’m really feeling at the end of my rope (which is where I think God loves to have us!), He faithfully reminds me to just ask all of you to pray – and I do, and you do, and God works through your prayers to give wisdom and direction and joy!

And prayer is turning into one of the big ways that I can represent you and serve the people of Ghana. As I walk along the street and a young teen boy shakes my hand, the prayer rushes heavenward, “Lord, look at his friendly smile, his firm handshake, his proud little bearing. God, You could take this boy and make a leader out of him, a true man if he were completely submitted to You. O Lord, make him curious to know You; make him Yours!” As I make eye contact with the street vendor as our taxi drives by, and flash a quick smile, I pray, “Lord, what a hopeless look in her eyes! O Father, please put hope into her life, the greatest of all hopes, Your hope!” As I hear the call to prayer resounding from a multitude of mosques, my heart is burdened. “You are the one true God! Make Your ways known on earth, your salvation among all nations. These people are seeking forgiveness in vain ways: open their eyes to the one true Way, Jesus Christ!”


You aren’t here to see the sights and hear the sounds I do. You don’t have specific African faces put into your path for which you can pray. And so you’ve sent me to pray on your behalf. I can’t say much to them beyond “Good morning. How are you? I don’t understand any more,” but they can tell I’m interested in and love them, and I pray they remember that friendliness so that they’ll be intrigued when God (as I pray He will) puts a Christian into their lives who can give them the full Gospel in their mother tongue.

Thank you for your part in making it all happen…thank you for your prayers. =)

Something Different

The Tirumbus’ young cousin was playing with her dolly’s hair. Laughingly I mimicked the style she was using, parting my hair horizontally from ear to ear and gathering all the upper portion into a ponytail that spouted straight up. She and the Tirumbus’ youngest daughter laughed with me, then eagerly asked whether they could play with my hair.

If you’ve been reading this blog for long, you can guess my answer.

“Can we braid it?” they asked once they’d settled down to business, soon demonstrating that they meant, “Can we put in a zillion tiny braids?” “I’m so sorry,” I apologized halfway through, “I don’t think you knew I had so much hair.”

Half-way through: braided on one side, sectioned off on the other

They hadn’t, but they were troopers, and after four hours of effort I was left with probably 200+ little braids. As you can tell, they were pretty pleased with the results.



After all that effort, I HAD to keep the braids in for a couple days! They’re out now, but were fun while they lasted. =)

A Story of Great Peril

When you move from America to Africa, you discover all kinds of blessings you’d been enjoying without even realizing it. To be fair, there are many new blessings you discover in Africa that you never enjoyed in America. But one of the benefits I’ve discovered I miss is a brother working right around the corner who can come take care of little creepy-crawlies for me!

I had previously dubbed Jonathan “Sir Spider Slayer” due to his marvelous ability to remove spiders from my office with a minimum of fuss and mess. In retrospect, ah! how tame and mild were the tiny creatures with whom he dealt on my behalf. For I have now to tell you a tale of great bravery: of how I, Leah, had to deal with a gigantic spider on my very own!

There was a movement on my curtain. I went to investigate, and discovered the largest wild (i.e. in contrast to caged or stuffed tarantulas) spider I’ve ever seen. Without exaggeration, its body was nearly the size of a quarter, and its thick legs extended a good two inches in every direction: it was brown and hairy and UGLY! And here it was, loose in my office, and there was no Jonathan to call on for assistance.

Quickly I ran to a co-worker’s office and asked what I should do. “Oh, you call one of the guys on staff and he will take care of it for you,” I was half hoping her response would be. But instead she calmly told me that I should get some insecticide from the cleaning staff and spray the vile thing (well, she didn’t quite put it that way). So off I ran to beg, borrow, or steal some insecticide – and of course while I was off doing that, the spider went and hid itself, meaning that I came back to an office with a spider at large, and no idea where it was.

At last I located it and began to spray it; and instantly it dropped and was again lost. This deadly game of hide-and-seek continued for a few minutes, with me spraying vigorously when I saw it, and the thing skittering away or dropping out of sight almost instantly – and then there I was, in my open-toed sandals, agitatedly shaking curtains, moving furniture, trying to find the gruesome creature before it found me. At last it dropped neatly into my wastebasket – which, for the record, looks like this:

No matter; I gingerly picked the wastebasket up and ran it outside, as the spider and I eyed each other warily and I shook it down every time it threatened to climb up the side. Midway to the dumpster, it squeezed its bulbous body through one of the holes and dropped to the ground. At least it was out of my office – whew!

Back I went to a fume-filled room, thankful to have survived the harrowing ordeal.

The Ugly, The Bad, and The Good

“Please know that I’m not fundamentally discouraged, just on the surface; but it’s the surface at which we tend to look until we remember to dig more deeply, isn’t it? ;)”

This line ended an email I recently sent to some dear friends who pray for me every day, and I thought I would share it with all of you because several have emailed me comments (along the lines of “It looks from your blog as though you're having a great time!”) that make me realize that maybe I’m not presenting a balanced perspective that includes all the hard aspects of being here. I’ll share just a few of the items with which I’ve struggled over the last couple of weeks: not to complain or to minimize the many, many blessings God has poured out on me, but to remind all of us that I need lots of prayer – as do other missionaries!

* Physical exhaustion
* Misunderstandings with Ghanaians due to cultural differences
* Inexplicable depression at times, unusual for me to whom God’s given a naturally positive personality
* Loneliness
* A very weird arm rash. It first resembled an insect bite; but the swelling and pain spread rapidly, and I was feverishly rooting through the medical supplies I’ve brought to see what might be appropriate treatment when God brought the novel idea to my mind, “I should pray about this.” As soon as I prayed, the rash stopped spreading, and soon vanished. The next day the same symptoms began on the other arm; I remembered to pray much sooner, and experienced the same instant cessation. As I didn’t see any bugs or spiders either day, and hadn’t eaten anything different – and as prayer immediately stopped the symptoms – I have no explanation other than the fact that I was under spiritual attack.

Again, these are just a few examples of some recent challenges…which have been good for me in many, many ways. And again, just to provide balance and remind you that in the scheme of things I have nothing about which to complain, here’s an excerpt from another email I sent my family earlier this week:

“Missionaries have been coming to Africa for centuries, dying from malaria and yellow fever and getting bitten by tsetse flies (which I don’t think actually live in THIS part of Africa) and having to eat grubs and termites and monkey and dodging lions and crocodiles and hippos and cannibals and facing who knows what other challenges…and I get to waltz in and have a room and bathroom and office all to myself, all equipped with electricity and fans and running water and mosquito screens, and I get served huge portions of the tastiest food (I can definitely tell I’m gaining weight! At this rate, I might be a trifle pudgy when I get home ;) ), and I wonder why I should be so very, very blessed.”

And just to end this post on a happy note, here’s a visual of some of that tastiest food I’ve been enjoying recently. Don’t forget that all fresh fruits and vegetables are of a different variety from and far more flavorful than what is available in the States. Mmm, mmm! And don't forget that I still need prayer – honest! =D

Breakfast: Creamy hot chocolate; oatmeal with milk powder, brown sugar, cinnamon, fresh bananas; tangerines that are very orange on the inside; egg topped with fresh avocado; fresh papaya

Supper: yam; plantain; cocoa-yam-leaf stew (which is incredibly good!); fresh avocado; flaky white fish

Taxi Time – 2

One thing about taking the taxi, you get a chance to meet some of the bold men in town. I told my family about the following encounters, all of which took place on the same day.

“Where do you work?” a man asked me on my way to the office. “In this district,” I answered vaguely. “I will follow you so I can see where you work.” “Mmm,” I replied, thinking, “If we were in the States, this would be stalking!” Fortunately, he got off at an earlier stop, but wasn’t quite ready to give up the connection. “See, that is where I work. You need to come see me.” “Maybe sometime,” was my next vague reply. “No! Not ‘sometime’! It must be today.”

Then on the way home, as I changed taxis, a man came up to my window. “Do you love me?” was his opening gambit. Perhaps he could tell I wasn’t sure he could be addressing me – it was partly this that delayed my response, and partly a thought process that went something like, “I’m in Africa because of the love of Christ, but I’m sure that’s not what you’re interested in” – for he repeated his application. “Obruni [white person],” he pressed, “Do you love me? Will you marry me?” “Not that much!” I laughed as the taxi drove off.

After the taxi dropped me off, yet a third man came up and kept pace with me from the taxi stop to my front door, full of questions and warm invitations to visit his – hmm, I’m not exactly sure what it was, but some place where they showcase traditional dress and dance. You may imagine I was relieved to get home that day. =)

Fortunately, Pastor Tirumbu has assured me that if any men get too aggressive, I need only refer them to my “African dad,” which he says will take care of everything. “And if anyone does come and ask to marry you, I will tell him the bride price is 300 cows, and then he will drop it.”

Just in case you ever wondered what I was worth. ;)

Typical Kids Camp Day

Bread and porridge are ready for breakfast

It’s 5:30 a.m., as we are informed by a loud voice outside our door, accompanied by vigorous clapping. Time to “rise and shine and give God the glory,” a line my girls had never heard before. =) We have 1½ hours to bath (Ghanaian usage), brush teeth, etc. and share our morning devotions, which consists of me reading a chapter or two of Scripture, then explaining and asking questions about what we've read.

Off we go to breakfast. The older kids eat in a separate facility from the main kitchen/dining hall, and as I help with that age group, I’m kept busy running back and forth for refreshed supplies in between serving food or water – with my right hand only!! Then I dash back to the main dining hall to eat my meal before heading off to chapel time.

Chapel runs for two hours: it’s full of boisterous singing in any of three languages, dancing, and a message augmented by puppet shows and/or skits. This energetic time is followed by two hours of small group time, including Bible memory and a story. Before you know it, it’s time for lunch!

Lunch is immediately followed by rest time. My girls and I use this time to read together, then head off at 2:30 for another hour of small group time. My age group next has an hour of games – it’s 3:30 in the afternoon, and we’re within 10 degrees of the equator; do you think we’re wilting? =D Adults yes, kids no – followed by an hour of crafts, followed by supper. Then comes the evening program, and we have an hour afterwards before the 9:30 lights out. This should mean that we get a full eight hours’ sleep each night and will awaken rested; but somehow that’s not the case!

Oh, well. Kids Camp doesn’t last forever.

The kids enjoy craft time

My Kids Camp Roommates

Laurel, Leah, Tiffany, Dorcas – BOTHER all these security measures!

One of my favorite parts of Kids Camp was rooming with three precious little girls: “Dorcas,” “Laurel,” and “Tiffany,” ages 10, 9, and 9 respectively. A friend of a fellow staff member, Dorcas was an eager learner and a patient teacher, helping me to learn the Ghanaian national anthem and a song in Twi. Laurel was a shy sleepyhead from a village several hours away. Tiffany brought an incredible Mary Poppins bag: hers was the smallest of all, but she kept bringing forth treasures for us all, from candies for the other girls to books we read aloud together during the afternoon rest time.

To my surprise, the books were all American, such as Boxcar Children and Babysitters’ Club. It was great fun reading this genre to the girls and interpreting all the American slang to them (“Do you know what ‘hit the sack’ means?” “Do you know what ‘cut the chatter’ means?” They never did, and agreed with me that these were funny ways to phrase things), laughing at cultural differences (“I know that in Ghana baby girls’ ears are pierced as soon as they are born; but can you believe that in America, some parents won’t let their daughters pierce their ears until the girls are 14 or 16?”), and telling them about the different foods mentioned, from lasagna to M&Ms. One of the American teams that came for Kids Camp brought M&Ms, which were handed out the last day. It was all I could do to keep the surprise from my girls when I discovered that none of them had ever tried M&Ms!

On the last afternoon, they played with my hair as I read: braiding it, combing it, styling it. Ahhh – I love having my hair played with! And I completely remember how fun it was as a little girl to play with someone else’s hair. “All girls who like to brush and comb should have a pet like this at home.” (Can anyone besides my family identify this line? =D)

Although all three girls came from Christian homes and assured me they were believers themselves, we carefully reviewed together the basics of salvation, covering verses such as Romans 10:9-10 and Ephesians 2:8-9 to establish that grace and faith are all that is required: we cannot depend on our good deeds to save us! We also shared devotions with each other every morning, reading Genesis 1-3, Psalm 103, Isaiah 40, and Romans 8 together.

As we left our room each morning, carefully locking the door behind ourselves, two hands inevitably slipped into mine. =) I tried to make sure they all got turns. Yes, they kept the bathroom floor perpetually wet; yes, someone once didn’t use the toilet – at least she did use the bathroom =D – but I wouldn’t have traded the time with these girls for anything. =)

Watching a Movie With African Children is FUN!

Kids Camp is over, leaving in its wake excited children, exhausted adults, and new lives in God’s kingdom. Praise Him!

One of the highlights of the camp occurred during the last night, when a Jesus film for children was shown. The camp kids comprised the most interactive audience I’ve ever seen, clapping and cheering throughout, from Jesus calming the storm to Jesus healing the servant’s ear in the garden…even when the sky grew dark at the crucifixion, our auditorium burst into enthusiastic applause! Naturally the resurrection itself commanded the most joy.

It’s always fun to experience the most amazing story ever with those who’ve never heard it before. Praise God that it’s not just a nice children’s story! Jesus really lived, the crucifixion and resurrection really happened, and God stands ready to pardon anyone who will simply believe.

Please pray for these kids as they have gone back to their homes, each armed with a New Testament and several days’ worth of Bible teaching. There are some who return home as brand-new Christians, and others who are yet to make a decision. Each of these kids needs our prayers!

Most of the auditorium seats are empty...

...because most people are up front singing and dancing!

Quick Update – Tired But Happy =)

Kids Camp is over (reports will be coming soon – along with pictures, thanks to a new camera my parents sent me), and the world is quiet once more. Ending events like this is always bittersweet: the body couldn’t handle such a schedule indefinitely, but it’s certainly been a marvelous time!

Meanwhile, I wanted to post a quick prayer request for Pastor Tirumbu and his family. His mother, for whom we’ve been praying, died Monday, and he’s in southern Ghana with his siblings right now. Please pray not only for him, but also for his wife and children, who have remained in the north at this sad time.

Thanks for all your prayers!

Hiatus

The blog is getting set to go on a week-long break, as we prepare to plunge into Kids Camp! This overnight VBS-style program will minister to Muslim and Christian kids from surrounding villages…and we’re not expected to get much sleep, so prayer for our stamina and for the many other logistics involved would be much appreciated, as well as prayer for the hearts of these kids who are coming. May God draw many of them unto Himself!

Pastor Tirumbu’s mother has taken a turn for the worse, so he will be heading south soon to spend some time with her. Please keep the whole family in prayer at this time.

I look forward to sharing some great reports with you next week. =)

Taxi Time – 1

Many of the taxis in town have random comments across their back windows. Perhaps when I get a new camera I’ll post a picture of one, but meantime, here’s a list of a few I’ve copied verbatim for your reading pleasure:

Don’t copy
Feel free
If God says yes!! Who can say no
Respect the police
Good family
Don’t verse me
One Step Ahead
God is one
Long story

And then there’s the bus we took to the waterfalls, with the marquee “Don’t mind me” across the front window, and “Mind yourself” on the back.

Finally, a frequently seen bumper sticker in town reads:

If it must be done, it must be donewell

(Sic)

Big Tree!

The Baobab tree has the largest trunk of any in Ghana – as you may well believe when I tell you that I’m sitting at the base of the smallest-sized Baobab I’ve seen up close (out of four or five: they’re not terribly common).