Dusty Road Wanderings
I bumped along a road. Hot sun. Billows of red dust. More pot holes then you can possibly steer clear of. A man flagged me down vigorously. He needed a lift. To Atonkwa. Since that is our village, he hopped in. I felt a flutter of apprehension. A middle aged man I have never seen before, sitting in the passengers seat. My three children in the back seat. How do I be safe and yet helpful? How do I protect my family and yet show Christ like love? Here is a strange man. In my vehicle. On an empty stretch of dirt roads. I struggle with this almost daily. How do I stay safe without offending people? For the most part, Ghana is pretty safe. But there are kidnappings. There are robberies. How do I give my all and yet protect myself and my children?
In this case, just a few feet down the road our neighbor boy came running from his school. he wanted a lift as well. I sighed with relief. He might be cocky most days and not respect our personal space, but I do trust him. And so we made it home without incident.
I did try to make some mental boundaries in my mind on giving people a lift. Beings we have a pick up, we can tell people to jump on the back. That is my preferred method for men of any stripe. A group of men. I will tell them no. Ladies? Yes! I have enjoyed giving an elderly lady a lift. She didn't speak English, I don't speak Fante, but she and her daughter squeezed into my passenger seat (the back seat was full) and jabbered away happily. Mostly to each other, sometimes to my children, occasionally to me. And there could be many more stories of giving ladies a lift.
Some days when I shift gears and bump along dusty red trails, or through large water holes with unknown depths, I want to pinch myself. Is this really me? The Mennonite girl from PA that hated driving shift? Am I really in Africa? And then I realize how this country has already stole my heart. Yes it's hot, the electric is less then dependable, the water goes off for days (thankfully we have a holding tank that has only run out once), we are far removed from friends and family, the bugs bite, the heat and dirt cause rashes. But the friendly people, the beauty of this place, and the peace of knowing we are serving where we are called; more than make up for those inconveniences.
And then occasionally I have a moment where I actually feel like a missionary. I mean, missionaries go around helping people all day right? So far I think missionaries do a whole lot more normal, day to day, sweeping, washing, cleaning and food prep, then feeding poor people! But today my little beggar boy showed up on my door step. Big, sad eyes. The kind you see in CAM's news letters. But also with a huge streak of mischief. He will get beat if his father knows he is here, he always tells me. He wants to take some toys home. He wants toffee. He wants many things. When I say no, he hides his face and pouts. Oh, this one is a manipulator! But last week he came and showed me a cut on his foot. He wanted medicine. I put triple antibiotic on it. He wanted the whole tube. He will bath and need more. I told him to come back. He came. The third day he threw one of his friends flip flops up onto the roof and so he was banned from our yard the next day. Today he was back. His ankle is paining him! To my surprise the small cut was leaking puss. There was a pocket of puss bigger than a quarter. He didn't want me to touch. I was gentle and tried to clean it up a bit. Then I poured on peroxide and smeared with triple antibiotic and sealed it with a band aide. Now that is a missionary! Right?
Most days being a missionary means extra dirt compared to the US. Extra squabbles because my boys are bored with the toys we brought. Extra time spent in a hot kitchen because everything is purchased raw. No lines of home canned goodies or freezers packed with things to pull out. Some day I hope to can. I hope to work ahead. For now I scratch my head and try to think up new ways of preparing chicken legs.
Is missionary life what I expected? Yes! No! People would ask me what I am going to do in Ghana. I told them probably what I do in the US. And I was partly right. I really didn't know what to expect, how to plan what I would do. And I have learned you just do what is in front of you. Whatever shows up on your doorstep or needs doing the most. In some ways I have more time because I spend more time at home. Because of the heat I don't work as fast so things take longer. I have more interruptions, so things take longer. But the main thing I do here is just what every mother and wife does.
Do we like Africa? YES! Even with the negatives, there is something here that draws and holds on to you. The children have their moments they miss family and friends. Actually we all do. We have our days we wish for the comforts of home. But so far life has been enjoyable here. I had low expectations so maybe that helped!
This week we said good bye to a family that moved back to the states. We also said a good bye for now, to a family going home for a month. It has been a week of emotional weariness for me. Good byes are draining. Seeing their pain of leaving Ghana and knowing that some day, I will have to face the same, makes me want to shut my door and not make any more friends. Part of me wonders why we set ourselves up for all this separation. We feel the separation from our families and friends now. And then when we do move home we will feel the pain of separation from our Ghanaian friends. But there is no point to hold ourselves back and to try to protect ourselves. To love much, means to hurt much.
And we can look forward to that day when we don't need to say good-bye again. What a comfort that we can meet our brothers and sisters in the Lord, and part no more! And what a joy it will be to see everyone together. No more having friends in different countries.
So with that in mind,
And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; Knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ.
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