Step off a plane in Ghana, and you are met by smiling faces, even from the officials in their smart green uniforms with braided cords dangling from their shoulders. In more personal settings, such as entering a home or meeting at a church, “You are welcome” is quickly offered with a smile. More importantly, you are welcomed. Laughter comes just as quickly. A story with a surprising, humorous twist brings bursts of laughter and joyful white smiles – but I’m getting ahead of myself — maybe that’s for tomorrow.

Our last blog post was a few days ago. We woke up at 4:00 a.m., packed the truck, drove out of Accra, and headed up the mountain into the cool, foggy air. Early-morning runners and walkers strained up the slopes, possibly as part of an organized event. As the sun broke over the horizon, yellow and orange hues tinged the vibrant, moist green vegetation. Jacob was driving, and I enjoyed my role as DJ, playing everything from Elevation Worship to the Wheaton Gospel Choir, and of course one of our favorites for trips to Ghana: “Carry On.”

It was not exactly an American Route 66 kind of road trip, with stops at greasy diners for cheddar-and-bacon burgers, a hunt for classic rock stations as we passed through little towns, and maybe a detour to see a gigantic concrete dinosaur. Instead, we weaved around potholes, honked furiously at goats scurrying across the hot road, and kept the windows up to savor the truck’s powerful AC, which the Ghanaians in the back seat asked to turn down.

We bounced our way up the Eastern Corridor until we reached the massive Volta. On previous trips, we had stayed east of it. The lake and river system runs hundreds of miles from north to south, and its huge watery arms stretch east and west, as if to say, “Drive around. I’m big.” Yet there is a shortcut for anyone willing to brave a ferry ride across one of the smaller tributaries. The battered vessel docked right against the hard-packed, muddy bank, opened its maw, and began gorging on the cars, trucks, and farm equipment creeping up the ramp. Broken, jagged metal steps led to the best seats. Then she spoke. A deep, gurgling diesel engine poured out clouds of black smoke as we broke free from the bank. Beth and I may have briefly discussed how we would jump into the brown water and swim for it if the scow began to pitch or list. As the ferry turned toward the opposite shore, everyone on the upper deck quickly shifted to the seats across the aisle, which were now in the shade. We enjoyed the breeze. Finally, a breeze! The ga-chunk, ga-chunk of the diesel seemed to fade as we took in the majesty of the Volta and felt the wind on our sweaty faces. How beautiful!

On the other side, we packed ourselves back into the truck for several more hours of driving. My aching back kept me shifting in my seat. We moved from music to conversations about life, the work ahead of us, and where AI could be used in ministry, and where perhaps it should not. It was a thought-provoking discussion, and it was fascinating to hear the range of perspectives and concerns.

By the time we reached the turn-off for Philip Centre North, twelve and a half hours had passed. The muddy 4×4 trail curved around trees and deep puddles before breaking into the open clearing that led to the center of the cluster of buildings. We were immediately greeted with joyful shouts and “You are welcome!”

Our lower backs ached. I was dehydrated but looked forward to settling into the new little huts where we would spend the next two weeks. A few things had changed since our February visit. Another set of huts had been built, and construction was going well on a large multipurpose hall that could hold more than 1,000 people. The solar system had been expanded, and we nodded approvingly at the stack of three additional batteries, confidently blinking green. Beth and I were eager to learn more, but we were spent.

The toilet and shower house, however, had suffered significant setbacks since our last visit. Our words tried to mask it, but our posture and expressions gave away our disappointment and anxiety as we thought about the 21 students and 6 instructors and coordinators arriving the next day.

I was hot, sticky, stinky, and dehydrated. We went to bed in the hut, too worn out to deal with a shower. My head pounded. I drank more water. I lay in bed, my skin uncomfortable and my ears ringing.

In the morning, my head was still pounding. During the night, dehydration had brought on painful leg cramps that had me dancing on the dusty cement floor several times after 11pm.

Beth made some instant coffee, added powdered milk, and shook it up in a reused water bottle. We sat on the edge of the bed, sticky and hot, drinking tepid brown water.

I was grumpy. I was a sticky-all-over, grumpy old man with a headache.

The situation was fine. Adversity is good. But my heart…

Today, after African-style worship (which of course included dancing, turning around, singing, and clapping), Beth shared some of her favorite verses, Philippians 4:4–7:

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

On that morning after our arrival, Beth helped us both reset our hearts.  We sat in our hut and began with prayer, thanksgiving, and then song.  It was a new day. New mercies arrive every morning.

Time to Work!

There was so much to do as we prepared for classes to begin the next day. First, we needed Internet, because the students’ mobile phones needed camera and audio apps. With a little creativity and a piece of PVC pipe I had cut to fit inside one of our large duffels, we were soon set up and online. Packets!

The students arrived from across Ghana, by moto, bus, and tro-tro. A seven hour moto ride, laying across a waterproof bag and bouncing over bad roads is both dangerous and exhausting. We thank you for your prayers and God’s mercy. Everyone arrived safely — 21 students.

Classes Begin!

The Yarn

I know, the storyline is incomplete. Why are we here? What are we learning? I know you want to whole storyline. But it will take some time to tug on all the loops, meet the students, and complete the story.

The only thing I know for sure, is we can rejoice always!

Oh… I guess I know one more thing — and again we can again rejoice — and I’m confident we won’t be meeting more grumpy old men on this trip.