Here we are in traditional Ghana garb.
June 29, 2008, Sunday morning.
Cheryl played a song about seeing an orphan and seeing Jesus this morning. It was hard to keep the tears at bay. I have met Jesus afresh in Ghana—seen Him on the face of orphans and widows and poor people living in squalor. He greeted me in the marketplace, on the gritty, red-stained roads leading to villages, on the graveled site of wells unsuccessful. He has met me here. I have seen him in the dance of my son, the gleam of joy in his eyes as he gives, gives, gives. I have seen Him in the team members and each unique gift He’s given to them.
We drove to the Koinonia Baptist Church this morning. They had a brief worship service, followed by a time of thanks from our team and for our team. They presented us with certificates and Ghanian clothing. We said a quick goodbye to our translators (Aidan and I brought small gifts) and headed to the airport where we are now.
It’s hard to summarize how I really feel. I’m feeling sick, a bit hot and dizzy, and just popped a cipro in hopes to forestall malaria (if it’s kicked in). Today, thankfully, we will rest in the hotel in Accra. Tomorrow we’re off to a church, the Compassion project and the market. I have a few things I would like to buy. I’m getting email now which has been nice. I didn’t want to come home to a hoard of them, all vying for my attention. What I’ll need is rest. Lots of it.