In the Quiet

This week has not been quiet.  It has been full, and messy, and loud, and busy, and overwhelming.  Volunteers leaving.  Volunteers coming.  Plans changing.  Things looking different than I would have thought.  All good.  Just different.  And busy.  And exhausting.

Today, we had a medical clinic at our school with some volunteers who are from Heartbeat For Africa.  They're great and soared through health assessments of all 185 students and all the staff at CORM.  They were patient and gentle and loving and endless in their abilities to see more and more and more students and adults.  They were a blessing, pure and simple.

But, anything out of the ordinary for our students, well, let's just say that they go a little nut-so. 

It was loud today. 

More than one child was seen gathered around obruni cameras, gathered at the doorway of the staff lounge where the doctors were doing their job, running down the hallway, causing their fair share of noise...

But, my sweetest moment today happened in the quiet of my office...

Our girl, Hannah, was brought to the office, after going to the medical clinic, in tears.  Uncontrollable.  Inexplicable.  Overwhelming tears.  She couldn't talk.  Couldn't explain.  She just cried.  Silent.

So, I grabbed her hand, and led her to my office.  I picked her up, in all her 8 year old glory, and sat her in my lap.  She sat there stiff as a rod, until I lightly placed my hand on her back, and she collapsed against me.  She snuggled into that place in your neck that babies love to live in.  That nook of comfort.  My chin resting lightly on her head.  My arms wrapped around her body.  She shook.  Sobs wracking her frame. 

Students ran by, leaving their classrooms for lunch, screaming and shouting outside, and she cuddled in.  She quieted.  I rubbed her back, rubbed her arms, sang over her, prayed over her.  Her tears began to reside.  Her breathing less labored.  Her body relaxed. 

I kept declaring over her, "You are safe.  You are loved.  You are ok."

And then she slept.  Curled up on my lap. 

She needed that.  She needed comforted.  She needed to understand that she was ok.

You see, a year ago, almost to the date, Hannah came to live at City of Refuge.  The day that she left her ocean-side community with her little brother, Alex, and Florence and John, we hosted a medical clinic in her village.  That was her last memory of her home village.  A medical clinic. 

A stethoscope.  That's what scared her today.  A stethoscope.  It brought back memories.  It brought back fear.  It brought back uncertainty.  It brought back sadness.

And she needed to be loved on.  To be held.  She needed to be filled up.

She needed to be quieted.  Assured.  Set at peace.

So in the quiet space of my arms, God ministered.  Quieted her fear.  Released her into peace.

And this afternoon, I saw her race across the field, laughter bubbling from a place that, perhaps, is a little more whole.

 It's these moments...these quiet moments...in the midst of the chaos...when I see God's greatest work.  The work of love.  And it's in these moments...these rare and beautiful moments...that I fully understand the reason God has called me here, not for me at all.  It was for that moment.  That one quiet moment.  Just for Hannah.

That's a powerful love.

Full

Had 4 really great, encouraging, tear-inspiring, conversations today.

My quality time tank is full and I'm encouraged by God's work in our volunteers.

We're Live!!!

Hey!  After a long time of emails and pictures and changes and new staffing and more emails...our Faith Roots website is officially up and running.

A huge thank you to Kristin Miller who put it all together!  She's pretty amazing!

Check it out: here!!

People Pleaser or Peace Maker?

I am a people pleaser.

It's something I have done my whole life...seek people's approval.  Approval for just about everything. 

I am a peace maker. 

I hate when there is relational conflict and frustration and will work to try and figure it all out.

And these two things together can be a really bad combination.

Because oftentimes, to keep the peace, I would rather not confront an issue.  I'd rather skim over the issues and avoid the tough things that need to be said simply because it is hard and uncomfortable and embarrassing and frustrating and hard.  (Yes, I know that I said hard twice...because it is that hard sometimes).

I feel the need in myself to lean back.  To allow things to go on so that drama won't prevail.

Unfortunately, sometimes that neglect of facing things head-on leads to more problems...bigger problems...down the road.

So, I force myself...yes, sometimes, I literally have to talk myself into confronting an issue.

And I realized this week that this is not just something that I deal with, but something that...well...pretty much our whole Bible Study also faces. 

Our volunteer, Challie, pointed out Galatians 1:10 to us this week when this concept came up.  It says:

"¹⁰ Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ."

So, challenging, but so true.

I have felt like, since moving to Ghana, God has continually challenged me on these very concepts.  What do I desire?  To please God or to please man?  Do I desire to keep the peace simply because I don't want to confront an issue or do I address it head on and face the consequences?

God, continue to mold and change me to be a peace-maker who isn't satisfied with pleasing others, but desires the peace of your character to invade the places that are insecure and find security in pleasing You alone.

Being 31 and Single

Last year, I struggled so desperately with my singleness.  I felt lonely so much of my time and wondered why God hasn't seen it in his plan for me yet--the dream of marriage and children of my own.  Still something that pulls at my heart...a longing deep, yet quieted by the years of waiting.

This year, I haven't felt it quite as keenly.  There have been moments...sure.

When my little sister got engaged.

When one of my besties began planning her wedding (which is this weekend...so sad to not be there to be a part).

When my friend's little ones snuggled up in my arms.

But, for some reason, it isn't quite so overwhelming.

Today, it came with a rush of anxiety.  Not a longing for marriage or family, but a frustration at the process.

This culture considers me strange.  As if I am not strange enough already...a white woman living in Africa.  I am stared at wherever I go.  Remarks are made.  Obruni or brofono or all the other names that mean "white man" are shouted at me by children and adults alike.

No, it's not just my skin color that makes me strange. 

I am an old maid.

It's just not done here. 

People are considered old if they marry after 25.

They discuss it with regret in their voice.  "If only I had married earlier..."

Certainly, my entire life is not as I had it planned out at the tender age of 8.  Every girl's fairytales center around the prince that sweeps them off their feet and whisks her to his castle in the clouds.

My castle is my quiet room, with the sound of children playing outside my window. My castle is our school where I lead our 180 students and 16 staff each and every day.  My Prince is the Prince of Peace that fills me up and allows me to be poured out on these...my children...my family.

But, it sometimes doesn't make sense.  Definitely not to people in this culture.  And sometimes not even to me.

A weird conversation with a local friend came up today, as if he had taken it upon himself to find me a husband.  Because it isn't good to be single.

As the anxiety rose from the strange uncomfortableness of the whole conversation--I felt the Peace that passes all understanding.

While I may not make sense to this culture--while sometimes, I may not make sense to even me--I am ok with that. 

Jesus certainly didn't make sense to his culture.  His own hometown cast him out. 

So, while I may be frustrated at times in the waiting...I am also confident that who I am is not defined by whether I am married or not...how old I am...how many children I have...

I am satisfied with who I am in Christ.  That is all I need.  And that is not just good...it is great.

A Conversation on Polygamy

Today, I had two conversations with people about the polygamy that is so commonly practiced here in Ghana. 

A pastor friend of ours came in to chat with me about an upcoming outreach today and somehow, we started discussing some of his church members that have students here in our school.  We talked about one particular man who has 4 of his children in our school.  3 of these children are from one wife, 1 from another.  He explained that this man has four wives.  His first wife has 11 children, his second has 10 children.  This man's goal is to have 50 children.  Even now, he has a new girlfriend.  He relies on stealing oil from the vehicles at the quarry during his shift as a night-guard to help cover the expenses of his children.  The wives are frequently fighting amongst each other, a competition set for who can give him the most children.

When this pastor confronted him about the situation, the man's only response was, "If you can't accept it, I will move to another congregation."

And a teacher came in today for his one-on-one time with me.  When I asked him what he wanted me to pray for him and he told me about his father, who recently married a second wife in secret.  He heard that his father was engaged and he snuck into the wedding and watched his father marry another woman.  And this, after 20 years of marriage to our teacher's mother.

When our teacher confronted his father, the father's only response was, "I don't want to see you again."

To many, they say this issue of polygamy it is cultural.  It's accepted and so it continues.  A man can choose to marry more than one wife if he so desires.  A woman is given promises and sweet words.  She might have a say in who she marries, but so many are easily persuaded or once a dowry is paid to the family, the choice is no longer their own.

It is a matter of discipleship.  It is a matter of self-worth.  It is a matter of understanding God's individual and infinite love for their lives.

How can that be communicated when one fathers 50 children?  What understanding of God does a child get in that case?  What is communicated to the woman and the children...the first wife, the old family?

What are your thoughts on polygamy?  What are some of your messy answers to these messy problems?

Vehicular Drama

Yesterday...oh yesterday...

It always seems that the moment you need something to work...that is the moment that is stops working.  Murphy's Law or something, isn't it?

Yesterday, our school bus was stopped by the police...our driver given a ticket and taken into the station...hours sitting there trying to argue his way out of trouble...just long enough to have to figure out what to do with all of our students.

School ended...no bus in sight...

Nosa sat in my office wondering what to do.

I, luckily, remembered that a father of one of our students owns a tro tro.  I called and he was available and came rushing to our school to take our students home.  Students piled into the van, all sitting on top of one another.  Quite a sight to see...and I prayed they would safely make it home.

I came home and prepared to leave for Accra to pick up our friend, Andrea, from the airport.  As I  looked around, I realized that our Toyota (our only trustworthy vehicle at the moment) was still not back from the mechanics. 

So, we had to think quickly and it was the Beebe's who came to the rescue.  Thank goodness!

They allowed us to borrow their vehicle and after a mad dash through dinner, we were off to the airport.  We were just in time to meet Andrea...and just in time to see all the stores closing in the mall.  Our little errands that needed to get completed...they didn't get done.

Our one saving grace was the fact that it was 2-for the price of-1 pizza's at the Pizza Inn.

By the time we got home, the school bus was back, Andrea was safely tucked away in her bed here in Ghana, and we had survived the vehicular drama of the day.

TIA...