We leave for Ghana Today. That could be the whole post — simple and accurate. But, “knowing how way leads on to way,” there have been roads traveled, trails explored, paths pondered, and futures considered.  Reflection, it turns out, is part of the journey too.

The year has been eventful.  We hiked lush laurel forests and desert mountains to celebrate our 40^th anniversary. We joined Paul in celebrating his Ph.D. graduation. We grew into a single, globally distributed BiblePlus team.  During the interleaving months since our last trip, Cyrus and Clement (C&C) crisscrossed Ghana’s dirt paths on their off-road “jungle motos” recording new audio and video and uploading their tracks for Beth and I to edit and assemble.  With energetic new choir videos and passionate new personal stories of faith, 3200 updated BiblePlus units made their way to Ghana.

The video below traveled a circuitous road—from C&C’s recording studio beneath sprawling shade trees in Kombaland, capturing the smiles, rhythms, and dance moves of the young women of the Love Fellowship Church choir, to our dining room table in Naperville for editing; then to Hong Kong, where the little yellow solar-powered audio players are manufactured and loaded; followed by a month at sea aboard a cargo ship; and finally back over dusty red bush tracks to the remote villages of the Komba, Adele, and Akyode. It is just one of the dozens of new tracks recorded by C&C while we were in the USA.

Wilderness

Beth and I have shared a deep longing for time in the Wilderness.  Our honeymoon needed only a pocket full of gas money, a car donated by my parents, and the tent given to me by Aunt Trudee to transform the Great Smoky Mountains into a wilderness retreat. At the end of last year we had the tremendous blessing of venturing into the wilderness with our whole family. 

The peace, beauty, and majesty of the wilderness exist alongside untamable, fierce power, outcomes we have yet to know, and the joyful anticipation of summits and meadows unseen.

I’ve come to realize I need more time in the wilderness.

Preparation

As we look back over the year that ended on a literal summit in the Wilderness and prepare for the work in Ghana, I am pulled, reluctantly, to also see the road we traveled a year ago.  50 weeks ago, our trip in Ghana ended abruptly with a car crash. We didn’t share many of the details on the blog – we were on our way home and the trauma of the crash was not easily discussed.  After the crash, our sleep was restless. For months, driving in Naperville brought back memories.

Yet, the view from a wilderness mountain nearly one year and 9000 miles away from the accident provides some perspective.  

The crash that ended our trip in Ghana was catastrophic. I had started to turn left on a two-lane highway when a car speeding up from behind us swerved and attempted to pass on the left. The police chief investigating the collision believed the other car was traveling 60 or 70 mph when it struck our nearly stopped vehicle. The force of the collision was unimaginable. It sheared off the front wheel of his car and tore our truck’s front wheel from the axle. His car catapulted through the air and landed in a ditch. Fortunately, he was able to crawl out of a window largely unhurt. We were black and blue and disoriented, and Beth had a mild concussion. But we, too, stepped out of the truck and thanked God for His mercy.

The impact was against the front wheel and frame.  If the other vehicle had arrived just one second later, the entire impact would have been against the driver-side door.  My door.  Such moments encourage reflection.

The Plan

Our current trip includes about a week of recording work in Accra followed by five days of work in Kombaland, in the north, before returning to Accra.  I will be driving with Beth and C&C.  Each direction takes a full day – 12 hours of driving on rutted dirt roads and broken asphalt roads. I will dodge bikes, motos, and bone-jarring pot holes.  I admit some anxiety for the upcoming journey. I ponder the road taken.  But from reflection comes thankfulness.  

Before every wilderness journey, the mountains grow larger during the approach. With every mile closer, the mountain looms taller. I can feel the excitement and bits of anxiety — the journey will begin.

The peace, beauty, and majesty of the wilderness exist alongside untamable, fierce power, outcomes we have yet to know, and the joyful anticipation of summits and meadows unseen.

Fortunately, we are not alone. We have a Shepherd.

The less travelled road awaits.