2:30am. Thinking, praying, preparing. The packing is done, yet preparations are incomplete.

Twice?  Yes. A first. We are headed to Ghana in a few hours — the second trip this year.  A new rhythm? New directions? The questions hang quietly in the darkness, as I wait for the warm glow of dawn. The silence will break too, and plans made at the dining room table will explode into color, song, exhaustion, and adversity.

Beth and I enjoyed quiet times of reflection this summer. Above the tree line in Wyoming the dawn crept past the peaks, pushed aside the gray, and warmed the alpine meadows. Bees bounced between the purple lupines. What would our next season hold? 

As summer days grew shorter, Ray and Cynthia visited the USA, and stayed with us for a few days. Oma and friends joined us for dinner, and we traded stories, laughter, and then prayer for one another. 

Plans were carefully crafted for an October visit to Ghana – the villages and churches, the planned audio and video recordings, the equipment we would assemble and bring, the training we hoped might enable Cyrus and Clement to record video and audio year-round, from the most remote regions of Ghana.  

On my 60^th birthday, one of the young pastors in Northern Ghana sent these photos and message to our WhatsApp group:

“Going back home ? after two weeks outreaches in Bole! The rains ? were heavy these days splitting the bridge to two! I was able to cross to the other side as some ‘town boys’ used their boat to help me! The Lord is good! Going back to my base!”

Ray responded:

“Oh wow. This is serious. We were planning to use this road with the Beckmans in October oo. So glad you were able to cross over.  Praise God.”

As I stared at the missing bridge on the small screen of my phone, I imagined the canoes carrying our friend and his moto across the swirling ocher waters.  The song “Like a Bridge Over Troubled Water” played quietly in my memory. The simple gospel-style song from Simon and Garfunkel is but three short verses.  The 70s hit describes pain, sacrifice, and comfort. Stepping forward.  Filling the gap.  A bridge.  The youthful voice of Art Garfunkel rises with a powerful crescendo.  

In the decades that followed, the song has been covered by a wide range of artists, each providing their own insight, from a soulful Aretha Franklin to Elvis and Whitney Houston.  Thirty years later, the rough voice of Johnny Cash, with a lifetime of struggle woven into the richness of his singing, provided his own, gritty version.  I love the original, but somehow, Johnny’s version seems more rooted, honest, rich.

Ghana.  The Naperville delivery trucks have moved on.  The gear is tucked into suitcases. Yet more preparation is needed.  Dawn will break, the flowers will bend toward the sun.  The days will grow shorter and new seasons will arrive.  

Yet truth remains.  

Do not let your hearts be troubled.