living sacrifices

We are at a place where we can see that our time here is coming to an end in just a few days. I am flipping through my rolodex of thoughts, perceptions, and assumptions of this trip realizing just how often God will do exactly what He wants, regardless of what your desires may be. This trip has certainly been that sort of case.

If I think about how I can sum up this trip, I am reminded of the line, “It is not a sacrifice unless it hurts.” Sure, it was difficult to pack up and leave the comforts of my home country. That’s a given. It was tough saying goodbye to my husband whom I just married for 11 days. We celebrated our 4 month anniversary through a skype conversation. It was really hard finding the finances to fund the expense of this trip (going overseas is never cheap). All of those things are trivial though. They are momentary. None of them are things that I sacrificed that would leave me hungry, thirsty, abandoned, or even homeless. They wouldn’t take away the only things I love. All that I lost was a few days in the little box that I call my life. They were no sacrifice at all.

In Accra, sacrifice means going without food so that you can over a cold drink for a complete stranger.  I have seen these people offer something that they know they would never be able to regain.  They give not because they were going to get something in return, but because it is a part of their DNA.

Sacrifice is losing your job because you have professed to be a follower of Christ and your employer is Muslim.

It is being cut away from your family because you chose not to follow the path often taken and refused to pray to a false God.

It is losing the imperative support of your community because you accepted a faith that was not ingrained in your every move from birth.

I have not sacrificed. Matter of fact, I don’t know when I have given something to another person, that had left me hurting, going without, or lacking anything.

The believers of places like Nima, Mamobi, Kumasi, Abusaki, and many others, have seen and felt REAL sacrifice like that which the bible describes.

You know, we are to be LIVING sacrifices.  If I gauge sacrifice on what I have done, I have not truly experienced it because it hasn’t hurt.

But I WANT to.

faces

I have seen them in the streets. They are faces with names, families, stories all to their own.  They are small, tall, young,, brave, experienced, inexperienced, afraid, outspoken, shy.  It appears that their value in themselves is centered in on whether they are able to achieve a marriage that will sustain them and a man who will never abandon them.  In Ghana they are not seen as equal, or highly regarded.  They are but mere possessions and objects to obtain.  Their eyes are dark, filled with fear, loss, and anxiety.  They are daughters.  They are sisters.  They are mothers.

THEY ARE WOMEN.  They are, each one, beautiful.

In Ghana they line the streets, selling from cramped wooden shacks and overcrowded stands to make pennies to contribute to their family income.  I have wondered, is their someone out there who truly loves them? Cares for them? Gives them a gentle word?  Are they married? Widowed? With child? Were they left alone?  Have they lost a child?

They have a story, of course, but they stay so quiet and unmoving that it is hard to know much.  So their stories are left to be drown out by the overbearing noise of calamity and chaos within their city.  Though their stories may be there, they are silent accounts of what  the world has left them with.

I have seen them, stranded with children in a city they don’t know well, left to fend for themselves against the ugliness of human cruelty.  Men, maybe even strangers to them, have been heavy handed to them on the streets leaving them wincing and crying out in pain.  But I have seen no one jump to save them.  I have seen them with no self respect, selling themselves on the streets because they had no other way to survive.  I have seen girls we would deem as babies pregnant with babies of their own.  For many, if not most, they feel their in no choice for their actions.  No choice but the path they have chosen.  And for some, there really isn’t.

Most people would be startled by these scenes, their skin left crawling and their minds unable to shake the images.  For me, I can’t seem to get their faces out of my head.  Maybe they will be with me forever.  I hope so.  I don’t want to forget.

Calloused

What a day it has been… My mind has been running in circles over and over the sights and smells and sounds of all that we have experienced today. There is so much to download, but I will only share one story with you because I am so tired.

Spiritually, today has felt like a ton of bricks. Its strange that even though the items in my bag have not increased, its weight seems heavier and heavier with every step I take. I am guessing that this is what they mean when they say that missionaries begin to carry the weight of the people who they minister to on their shoulders. If that’s the case, I feel like my back is breaking.

Isn’t it interesting though how we think that it should be missionaries carrying that weight…it must be MISSIONARIES that take the word of Christ out to the streets, IT MUST be missionaries that give out bibles and do crazy things for God. But what about everybody else? Goodness, if we waited for only the missionaries to take care of the world, it would take an eternity to get anywhere. What about if we asked God to PIERCE OUR CALLOUSED HEARTS for those around us? Make us missionaries in our own communities? I have truly been burdened and convicted of this, even myself, to dismiss opportunities because they should be allotted for a missionary, but if we are not being missionaries in our own country, if we are not seeing the obvious needs right in front of us here in America, why should we be even given a chance to go halfway across the world to spread the name of Christ?

Just an idea….what do you think?

Gifty

Of course it is a name that we would never hear attached to a face in America, but when I hear the name “Gifty” my mind is in constant motion for a girl from a tiny little portion of Accra. She lives in the inner segment of an area called Mamobi. The area is very over populated, crowded, and lingering with the scent of poverty and yet she smiles. Her smile lights up no matter what is going on or how bad things have been. Behind her smile is a story.

It’s just last September that her mother passed away. She had been very sick for a long time, and because of the poverty that she had no way of being relieved of, she was unable to get the medical care that she desperately needed. Medical care is a luxury to us in America.

In America, if we have a cough or headache or backache or chest ache, we immediately make an appointment to see our doctor. Sometimes, it is even less than these things that will cause us to go running after a physician who can “fix” us. In Gifty’s life, there was no chance for a healing, for her mother, nor is there little chance for her to receive care because she can rarely afford a decent meal.

And yet she smiles.

When I think of all that this 13 year old girl has gone through in half the span of my own life, I feel terrible because I haven’t even experienced a fraction of her pain. But that is the story of nearly every face in Mamobi. Behind their eyes is something that none of us can begin to understand from afar. It takes time for them to let us in and to share with us all that God has taken away, given, and gifted.

Gifty, an impoverished girl from Mamobi who is fatherless, motherless, and has not a penny to her name, has offered one of the greatest gifts to her neighbors and those within her city. She offers them a smile.  When I am around her, I realize just how often I frown.

I can only pray that God will allow me the opportunity to meet many more like her.

Suffocation….

Today is the first of many that we will be here in Accra, walking the streets and sharing the good news to the people. It is amazing how little changes when you are away from here. Those things that stifled hope, are still very apparent. In Accra, the air is heavy with sadness. It is not a thickness that can be removed by wind or by the passing of winter. It’s a heaviness that looms over the people. The air is thick with war. War in a spiritual sense, not necessarily a physical sense. You can smell it- a pungent scent that stings your nose. You can hear it- the tongues of those praying to a God that doesn’t exist. You can feel it- it is the chill that runs through your spine. All around us is spiritual warfare in the air that makes it feel thick and heavy.

What is more is that those who have lived in it all of their lives are not aware of it. It is a poison that slowly devours what little opportunity for loyalty or zeal that one may have for Christ. I can’t begin to even fathom what it must feel like to carry that sort of weight on my chest. It could keep anyone from taking the breathe of fresh air that Jesus Christ can provide… and many don’t because they do not see that they are suffocating.

we are here!

Hey everyone!

Just got in last night at 9:45ish…I will post more for everyone as soon as we get back in tonight- but for those who were just worried about our well-being- We have made it and are doing great!

Church starts soon- AND I AM READY!!!

God’s gonna do something big!

leaving on a jet plane…

Don’t know when I’ll be back again.

Well, at least we THOUGHT we were getting on a plane…only to get to Raleigh and find out that we would miss our connection flight to Accra in JFK and would have to be RE-ROUTED through Amsterdam. You’re probably saying to yourself, “Not too bad Emily. You get to see a portion of Africa AND the Netherlands.” But there is a catch…It INCREASE THE HOURS WE WILL BE FLYING. If you have never been on an international flight, you couldn’t quite understand, but the 10hr flight that I was previously very excited (not really) to be taking, has now turned in to nearly 15 hrs in the air.

When I fly over LARGE BODIES OF WATER, I tend to pretend that I am on a roller coaster so that when things begin getting really bumpy, I can somehow not freak out. But knowing I would have to pretend twice, makes it not so enjoyable anymore.

What’s the GREAT PART? I just spent a WONDERFUL day getting to know the 7 other people on my team a little better. It’s so amazing how God knows just what He’s doing when He cancels flights so that it provides more time for our team to gel.

We’ve been up and traveling since before 6am, we’ve ate MANY TIMES (because that’s what Baptists do best) and we will have a NERTS battle. We are excited to see Amsterdam and even MORE EXCITED to reach the soil of Ghana.

one night left

This will be a pretty short message- tomorrow we head out.  I think it is just now settling in that I will be leaving home again.  Last time I went I didn’t feel like I was leaving that much behind and now, being married, I feel like I am leaving half of myself in the states.  It’s a pretty strange feeling- and despite the fact that my husband, Matt (who is not only incredibly supportive, but also so encouraging throughout this whole process) continues to tell me that he will be fine, I know he will miss me.

So, it’s the night before…

-got my flip cam

-meds (anti malaria drug- pretty serious stuff to fight off the nasty infected bugs)

-my bunny- for those of you who don’t know, it’s a bunny my Mawmaw gave me just before she passed away and I take it with me on trips

-1 checked bag/ 1 carry on

-one packed book bag with an apple comp, some snacks, etc in it.

It’s peaceful around the house right now…but I’m anxious, like always.

What should I do to pass the time?  Maybe scrabble…blog some more…read?

Eh….tomorrow I leave for Africa.

Please, allow me

to pull back a few layers…

because as I begin writing on here throughout the next few weeks, some of it may be exciting and some of it may be too heavy to read on.  But please, allow me to expose myself in a new way.  Isn’t that the whole idea behind these things anyway? To let down your guard and set aside nervousness or inhibitions to pursue writing thoughts that reveal something no one has ever heard about you?

I want to do that.  The purpose of this blog has never been, and I pray will never be, about me but about the work God is doing in my life and in the life of those around me.  Somehow, I’d love to convey the message that I am ordinary, but the God IN ME IS EXTRAORDINARY.  We all know that at our core, we are rotten.  However, God IN ME makes things different.  I’m still rotten, but He is amazing-

You can simply read, share thoughts about what you read and see,  or (my prayer is for this) you may begin doing the same yourself.

The ladies are dancing

It’s not something that we can do often in here in America, but in Africa- LIFE IS EXPOSED THROUGH DANCING. I’ve uploaded a video from last years trip that I found.  I’m not sure if it was used on the video we made last year, but either way, the sound quality is awesome, so check it out!

FOR YOUR VIEWING ENTERTAINMENT- “The Ladies are dancing”

enjoy!