Even when I'm not
- Kate Sperry
- Aug 2
- 28 min read
Reflecting on the stories of Ghana and the sorrow of goodbye
Ghana… what a sweet word.
With it floods memories of places I’ve been and people I’ve hugged, hands I’ve held, and children I’ve carried. To my ears, it's mention brings also the voices I’ve sung with and laughed with, and too, the dear souls I’ve cried with.
Just the mention of it brings childlike, giddy joy, but with it, simultaneous deep, sorrowful longing.
I spent the first part of July in this beautiful place with a team of 13 from a partner church of OneWay Africa. It was a joy to share the wonder of this place with them. Immediately, their hearts were captured with love for the people. And my tears were shared as we said our goodbyes—tears seem to be the only words I can say when this dreaded time comes.
Ghana stirs up such strong emotions in me when our time together nears its end, and those emotions only became stronger the second time I was there. It could have been sheer exhaustion from a packed week that landed me in a puddle of tears, or maybe it’s just that I’m simply a girl who fell in love with a country named Ghana and never wants to leave her beloved home.
It’s hard to summarize a trip that meant so much, so I will describe the things I want to be able to recall in vivid detail, serving both my desire to share with you the stories from my time here and to have a place I can look back on to feel, taste and touch the memory of this wonderful trip.
Ghana’s akwaaba (welcome)
I stepped off the plane, and as I looked around at the Ghanaians heading towards baggage claim with me, I couldn’t wipe the beaming, marveling smile off my face. I was in Ghana again… I couldn’t believe it and simultaneously felt like I could pee my pants with excitement. After making it easily through customs with all of our luggage in hand, we stepped outside and were met with a great, big sign that read Akwaaba (which means “Welcome” in Twi). And it was being held by the dearest of people—people I hadn’t seen face-to-face in nearly 2 years! I squealed as I ran to hug them. I was finally home.
The little girl across the street
After our first day of school outreach, we went to a nearby church to continue playing with children, sharing the love of Christ with them. As designated camera woman (a skill I didn’t have prior to the trip and was actively learning as I went), I walked around the perimeter of the small church’s backyard and tried capturing the love being shared. I was doing this when, from across the street, a little girl caught my eye. She couldn’t have been older than 2 years old. She was standing next to the stone wall of her house, corn cob in one hand, blue ball in the other, absolutely mesmerized with the scene in front of her. She had the sweetest plaid dress on with little gold earrings. She was adorable to say the least.
I didn’t want to stray too far from the group, but I had to go see her. So, I took one of the Ghanaians with me, and we went over and said hi. After talking to her mom, I picked her up and brought her closer to the scene, which still kept her attention. When I finally set her down, she ran back to her sister, who wore a hijab.
The power of the moment struck me. This was a Muslim family living right across the street from a Christian church whose backyard had completely captured the attention of their youngest. The little girl wanted to be with the action across the street, so after a tantrum, she found her way over and became a further recipient of the love of Christ being shared. It was a sweet moment.
As we left, I picked her up again and brought her back to her mom. A part of me wanted to go inside and share the gospel with her mother, but another part of me didn’t know how. I was comforted, though, when the Ghanaian I had towed with me earlier said he would come back and build a relationship with the family and then share the gospel with them.
Like a child trying to sleep on Christmas Eve
That night, as I laid my weary, jet-lagged head down to sleep, I struggled to drift off. If you know me, this is never an issue. I consider it my superpower, Sperry gene: sleeping. I’ve managed to fall asleep in the most unlikely of places: on cement sidewalks, in straight-backed chairs, on bouncing speedboats, even behind the wheel…not the best place to enact the superpower. But that night it wasn’t kicking in, and it was because I couldn’t get my mind to shut off. I was thinking about a number of things, but the main thing was my pure excitement to be in Ghana. I felt like I was back in my childhood home again, trying to sleep the night before Christmas. My craze only heightened as I realized I was praying in my head with a Ghanaian accent! I was going insane with excitement. Since sleep evaded me, I picked up my Bible, went out to the couch, and started reading. And the Psalm I came across perfectly fit the moment: “At midnight I rise to praise you…” (119:62) That’s exactly where I found myself: My glee led me to this place of praising God past midnight for the wondrous works He had worked in my life to bring me to this beautiful place I now tried to sleep in. How could I sleep with all there was to praise Him for?! Nevertheless, He knew I needed it, and after putting The Chosen on, I laid my head down, and sleep finally overtook me.
“...he gives to his beloved sleep.” - Psalm 127:2
Auntie Maggie
I was about to say this was the longest day yet, but then I remembered there were still longer days yet to come on this trip. However, this was a close second, especially after a night of not nearly enough sleep! We woke up around 7 am and, after eating breakfast, headed to the training center to meet up with the missionary students. Then, we hopped on a bus whose destination was 2+ hours away in a village on the outskirts of Accra called Ashalaja. I got a front seat to Ghanaian, bustling street life, marveling at women balancing food and other items to sell on their heads while artfully weaving in between swerving motorbikes that carried whole families behind their handlebars. I captured many photos as we bumped along. Between snapping pictures and dozing off, we finally arrived.
After pulling into a clearing, we started setting up the space for medical missions. One group ran tests, taking blood pressure and checking for malaria, while a second group received those who had been tested, providing counsel, discussing the individual's spiritual life, and sharing the gospel. The rest of us went out into the community—inviting people to come for medical care, playing with children, and sharing about Jesus whenever we had the opportunity.
There were many Muslims in the area since there was a mosque right across the street, and it was powerful to see even an imam (a Muslim leader) receive counseling from the team. Matt (a man from the church group) spoke with the imam and reasoned with him, which led to the imam admitting that what this Christian said was wisdom!
As I wandered around, taking in the scene in front of me, one of the team members ran up in search of a bathroom, so we set off to find one. Out on the edge of the clearing sat some buildings with a woman in front, sitting on a plastic chair, under the shade of a tree. We approached her and she directed my friend to the bathroom. Not having to go, I tried talking to her. Immediately, she made it clear that she didn’t know a lot of English. Not knowing enough Twi to communicate, I thought we’d have to just remain silent, but then the most important word, which I did in fact know, came to mind—“Yesu,” which means Jesus. As soon as I spoke this word, her eyes lit up and she smiled in agreement. I shared her excitement and told her we were sisters in Christ. I pointed to myself and said my name. Understanding, she put her hand on her chest and said Margaret, but then, correcting herself, made it clear that I could call her Auntie Maggie. It was a sweet moment of connection between two sisters who, although didn’t know the same language, knew the same Yesu as their Lord and Savior. I returned to the bathroom many times throughout the day to bring friends, and each time, I would introduce them to my new friend, Auntie Maggie.
Together again one day in heaven
Another villager I connected with that day was a teenage boy named Prosper. He approached me and Andrew, one of the American team members, while we were near those getting their blood pressure tested. He started asking us and Gideon (a OneWay Africa staff member who joined) a million and one questions about Christianity—questions I didn’t always have an answer to. I was inspired as the staff member recalled piece after piece of Scripture to ease the mind of this questioning Christian boy. As I marveled, this verse came to my mind: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” - 1 Peter 3:15. Prepared he was. Prosper was encouraged to have people answer his questions instead of being shut down like he normally was. But we stood there for an hour as the questions grew and grew. I discerned it was becoming less about answering this boy’s questions and more about this boy stepping into greater faith for the things he didn’t know. The staff member alluded to this, stopping his answering and asking me to pray for Prosper. I did so, asking God for just that—for Prosper to grow in faith and to trust God more simply as a child. I prayed that God would reveal to him the answers he needs in order to give a reason for the hope within him. And for the things he doesn’t need to know, I asked that he would have a deeper, childlike trust in his Father—who knows all things and is faithfully filling the gaps in Prosper’s understanding with His perfect sufficiency. From there, we became good friends with Prosper.
He joined us that evening as we showed a little bit of the Jesus Film, followed by supporting episodes that showed what it looked like to follow Jesus, and it did so in their native tongue. Children gathered around the glow of the projector with adults standing on the perimeter, watching a man who looked like them have his life radically changed by the gospel. Subsequently, they learned with him what it looked like to follow Jesus. Afterwards, someone from the team went up to share the gospel, and we prayed with the people there. Then, we danced! We formed a trotting, circling circle as we shouted up praises to the risen King Jesus! It grew very late, and the time came to say our goodbyes. Andrew and I went over to Prosper, and his eyes searched ours as he asked if we would come back. Not being able to promise that, I told him we would if God willed it, but if not, I said, “We will all be together again one day in heaven!”
Jesus takes on our ailments
A few days into the trip, we visited an orphanage. I was completely exhausted at this point and didn’t have a lot in the tank, causing me to feel very detached from the group. After playing many games with the children, we sat them down and the American team performed a skit. The team depicted a man receiving many people with ailments—a woman with leprosy, a blind girl, a woman with a crippled leg, a possessed man, and a boy who had died. Each person, after being touched by this man, was healed and rose with celebration and shouts of joy! But each person’s ailment, whether it was a black cloth that represented leprosy, a cane from the crippled woman, sunglasses from the blind girl, or chains from the demon-possessed man, all found their way onto this man, who was then covered with the white sheet that once covered the dead boy. With arms spread wide, he was laid down, depicting his death. But then, out from the grave, He rose again, no ailments to be found!
It was a beautiful, POWERFUL picture of what God does with our brokenness, whether it’s my weariness or these children’s heartbreak of having lost their parents—God takes it all, bears it for our sake, and ultimately overcomes it with the hope of Jesus’ resurrection!
"...to you the helpless commits himself; you have been the helper of the fatherless." - Psalm 10:14
“In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” - John 16:33
Worship that never stops
That same day, we went to the ocean for another outreach with the community that resided there. It got dark fast, yet still, the gospel was preached in the cover of night. After getting on the bus, we started singing. We arrived at a pizza place for dinner…yes, a pizza place… and postponed our getting off the bus (despite a long day without food) to keep on singing “The Goodness of God.” Finally, we descended from the bus and proceeded to have the most rambunctious, hysterically loud time in this small pizza shop.
When the team was wrangled back onto the bus for our long journey home, our singing immediately resumed. After joining the chorus for a few songs, I nodded off. When I awoke, we were almost home, and the worship had yet to cease.
“From the moment that I wake up, until I lay my head, I will sing of the goodness of God.”
A cheeseburger in the north
It’s a Sunday morning in Ghana. You get in your vehicle and look out your window to find women dressed in their very finest, Sunday Best—the prettiest, most colorful dresses and blouses you have ever seen. You arrive at church and, reaching your ears from the car, you hear the clapping and shouting and “Amening” of hundreds of people who have WAYYYY more rhythm than you! After song, and African-style prayer, more songs and a couple of sermons and testimonies, and some “Hallelujahs,” you finally get in your car to leave. But that’s not it! You are actually heading to another church where you are going to do it all again! This was our Sunday morning in Accra, and it was glorious.
The second church visit was cut short for me, though, because I had a flight to catch—I was heading north! We tossed everything in the car, including ourselves, and we were off! Going with me were Jacob and Elsie—the sweet newlyweds who were going to help me get what I needed from the north. Once in the air, I pulled out my Bible and read a Psalm that has become the passage of Scripture I read when either coming from or going to the north of Ghana: Psalm 113.
So, there I was, riding on the clouds to a place God is actively working to make His Name known, where it previously wasn’t, making these words I was reading all the more real: “The Lord is high above ALL nations, and his glory above the HEAVENS! Who is like the Lord our God, who is seated on high, WHO LOOKS FAR DOWN on the heavens and the earth? HE RAISES THE POOR from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap, TO MAKE THEM SIT WITH PRINCES, with the princes of his people.”
Upon arrival in Tamale, we went to a restaurant, and the menu was extensive. Being a picky eater and having zero spice tolerance made choosing a dish very hard, but my decision became clear when my eyes narrowed in on this glorious word: “Cheeseburger.” (If you’ve seen Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs, you are reading that word in a different tone and laughing with me right now). My mind was set. I was going to eat a cheeseburger in the north of Ghana. And so I did, not caring in the slightest how American it made me look. (I’m the girl growing up that would order chicken tenders at a Mexican restaurant… I’m still that girl and proud to be!)
“I thought you were a professional with how you were holding the camera”
After having our fill, we set off for our long trek to the Philip Centre North—a missionary training center in the process of being built to train previously unreached peoples to become missionaries to those right around them. I sat in the back with Elsie while Jacob rode in the front seat. As I tried to capture photos from my window, Jacob turned to me and asked (to my horror) if I was good to go to shoot the footage we needed with my camera… I realized he didn’t bring microphones or a camera or a camera stand with him for the testimonies we needed to record… and my camera couldn’t capture audio without the right equipment… We had flown all the way to the north to record testimonies, and we didn’t bring any microphones… I couldn’t believe it. I had assumed that since I very obviously was not a studio kind of girl, I didn’t need to say anything and he would have everything covered... Apparently it wasn't obvious enough! Miraculously, though, he had brought a GoPro with him, which recorded decent audio, so that was what we settled on, knowing we'd just have to sync the video and audio in post-production. After coming to this solution, he laughed and shared, “I thought you were a professional with how you were holding the camera.” That couldn’t have been further from the truth!
This newbie photographer was about to become a videographer on the field.
My hut
Onward we trekked. And right before daylight escaped, a bike pulled out in front of us. It was Clement, one of the Jesus Film Riders! We stopped on the side of the road, and I jumped out of the car to give him a big hug. I met Clement the last time I was in the north. It was a JOY to see him face to face once again. When we made it to the Philip Centre, it was dark, but immediately we set off to work to get settled. With bugs sniping us in search of our light, we headed to the water pump, and I tried not to think about the big spiders lurking in the grass around us. After a bit of a wrestle with the lock, we finally pumped the water we would use to flush the new toilets we were about to christen. This accomplished, we moved into our huts. Originally, I was going to sleep in China, but landed in Afghanistan, or as I liked to call it, AfGHANAstan (the huts are all named different countries).
I started getting ready for bed, bringing out the most important item I brought on the trip: my bug net. Without it, I would have been a goner. With it, I felt like I could do anything—even live in the north permanently as a missionary! With my bug net, a mat, and a pillow, the place started feeling like home. The only problem was that one of my windows was wedged shut, preventing airflow and making Afghanastan very stuffy. I was pouring with sweat when I heard voices outside… Clement felt it in the air… rain was coming. Not a minute later, a gust of wind blew through my one open window, completely relieving me of the heat I had felt previously. I stepped outside, and the rain started. Truly, it was a gift from the Lord. So, we sat in the rain—Clement: shivering in his jacket, eating a sandwich, drinking his tea from a bag. Me: happy, chatting away, enjoying the cool touch of the rain. Eventually, I headed back to Afghanastan and climbed into my bug net. Peacefully, I laid my head down to rest, and with my superpower back in gear, I slept like a baby.
25 shared. 22 saved.
I arose with great anticipation for the day ahead. It was going to be a full one. The day before hadn’t gone as planned. We were supposed to get the first testimony we needed and take photos of the Philip Centre, but since daylight faded too quickly, we couldn’t accomplish either. That pushed everything to the next day, when we also had to collect two more testimonies from separate villages… and all before 2 pm when we needed to leave for the airport to make it on time. (This was the longest day I was alluding to above.) I packed up my beloved bug net, ate a poptart, pulled on my skirt, braided my frizzy, Ghana-humidified hair, brushed my teeth using a water bottle, and I was ready to go. Outside, I was met with another Jesus Film Rider named Jonah. He was going to lead us from village to village for the testimonies we were gathering. Before that, though, seeing it in the daylight for the first time, I got to take in the Philip Centre North—the missionary training center I had devoted many hours to raising funds for the previous winter. It was unbelievable to see the fruit of this work in person. But it wasn’t just the building that rendered me speechless, but the work the building was already accomplishing. As I wandered inside the main building, I stumbled upon a sheet of scratch paper that belonged to one of the students. The top read: “25 shared. 22 saved.” My jaw dropped. The students being trained between these walls were already bearing fruit for the Kingdom, and God gave me a glimpse of that fact. What a gift.
Directing with a child on my hip
After getting a good handful of pictures of the center, we left around 8:30 am. There was a lot to accomplish in just a few short hours. I didn’t know how we were going to do it all, so I asked God to do it all for us. The testimonies we needed to gather were for a video project update we are putting together for a family camp called Maranatha that gave OneWay Africa $115,000 the previous summer to support four different projects: Audio Bibles, Jesus Film Riders, Clean Water, and Missionary Training. We were in the north gathering testimonies for the first three. Our first stop was for the Audio Bibles project. When we arrived, due to a lack of network, we waited for quite some time as word made it to those who were giving testimonies that we were here and ready for them. As we waited, children gathered around us. Last time I was in the north, I didn’t know how to interact with the people. It felt like they were scared of me since many were apprehensive about seeing a white person for the first time. I didn’t want to scare them, so I stayed a safe distance away. But because we had done outreaches with kids in the south prior to this time in the north, I felt more comfortable, understanding the moms don’t care if you pick up their kids, and the kids actually want to hold your hand and be held. So that’s what I did. We couldn’t understand one another, but we were able to play a call-and-response game where they just copied what I did. There was a sweet girl in a green, gingham dress that was just asking to be picked up, so I set her on my hip and bounced her around as the kids mirrored my steps and spins. More and more kids started pooling around me, and soon we were all laughing, including the mothers who stood nearby, adoringly listening to the bubbling laughter of their children.
Before I knew it, a group of people appeared, ready to give their testimonies. I set the little girl down, and we began. It was very hard to communicate to the people exactly what we were looking for with the language barrier, and it took quite a few tries. But to hear the passion in their voices about how God’s Word had transformed their lives was so powerful. As we were recording, I looked down and saw the little girl I was just holding. Her sister held her hand and seemed to be pulling her away, but the little girl was firmly rooted next to me, eyes up. She wanted to be held. So I picked her up and kept directing, bouncing her on my hip.
Blessing an idol-worshipping chief
Once we were satisfied, we asked how to say thank you in their dialect and thanked them, receiving smiles and laughter at our pronunciation. We then piled into the car. We were off to the next location, and this time to receive a Jesus Film testimony. When we got there, the two prepared to share their testimony were quick to show up. Both of their lives had been transformed after watching the Jesus Film brought to them by a Jesus Film Rider. One spoke English, which was very helpful. The other didn’t, but we were able to get a good translation. She struggled at the end when we asked her to say “Thank you, Maranatha!” in English. We all laughed together just as we had laughed about our pronunciation of thank you in their language just moments earlier.
Once both testimonies were collected, it was time to pay our respects to the chief. On our way over, I asked Jonah if he became a Christian after watching the Jesus Film, thinking what a cool testimony to gather. But Jonah informed me he was still an idol worshipper. He was very welcoming of the Jesus Film, though, and expressed gratitude to Jonah for bringing it. We squatted and bowed our heads in front of the seated chief before sitting in our own chairs. Jonah asked me if I wanted to say anything, so I said, “You have a beautiful village with beautiful people.” Jonah translated, and the chief smiled with gratitude. Jonah looked back at me for more, and the words flowed out of my heart, “We pray that Jesus Christ blesses your village.” Jonah translated, and the chief nodded. After taking a few pictures of him with his permission, we stood to leave and waved our goodbyes. We were on to the next!
“Thank you, Marananka!”
Last but not least, we needed a clean water testimony. We drove and bounced along for a bit longer as this village was farther away. The drive went by fast, though, as I was interviewing Pastor John (pictured above) who rode with us. When we finally arrived, everything—and everyone—came together faster than we expected in God’s perfect time. Very soon, we were standing in the center of a communal area between 4-5 huts, recording testimonies of the power of receiving a water filter. An elder of the village shared that upon being given the gift of clean water, he went further to drink of the Living Water because of the love the Christians who shared this gift had shown him.
While there, we got to see the dirty water he and his community had been drinking just weeks prior, and I couldn’t believe it. I saw the incredible power of holistic help that penetrates beyond the body and reaches the soul. When it came time for him to say, “Thank you, Maranatha!” he hilariously struggled. Repeating it several times, he couldn’t quite say anything but “Marananka.” After sharing laughter with the whole group of people that gathered, we surrendered to keeping it. It wasn’t until we were walking out that we were informed why he couldn’t pronounce it… he didn’t have his two front teeth! (If you aren’t already, try saying Maranatha without your teeth…)
You can hear him share his testimony in his own dialect here: https://vimeo.com/1104566205?share=copy (Don’t mind the shaky camera shot being held by yours truly!)
A tearful flight home
Incredibly enough, we had gotten everything we needed! The Lord seemed to have frozen time for us. After saying our goodbyes to Jonah and Clement, we were off to the airport, and even with a pit stop with Richard, another Jesus Film Rider for an equipment handoff, we somehow still made it with plenty of time! And if that wasn’t enough, our flight also got delayed an hour, proving God was completely in control of the time and was going to provide plenty of it for the work He wanted to accomplish.
Once we got on the plane, I started processing my time, and as I looked out the window, tears started rolling down my face. Soon, sobs shook my body. Our time was so short in the north. How could a place I love so deeply be in my life for just a visit? I wanted more time. My heart was broken.
Florence
The day after I returned to the south, we visited another orphanage. Because of the sensitivity of the children’s situations, I wasn’t able to take any photos, which actually turned out to be such a gift. Instead of trying to capture others playing with the children, I got to be the one to play with them! The girl I immediately connected with was named Florence. She was a sweet little girl who I believe was 6 years old. She sat in my lap as a person from the American team shared the story of Adam and Eve. Afterwards, the children were asked if they wanted to accept Jesus in their hearts if they hadn’t already. Florence signaled that she hadn’t and that she wanted to be prayed with, so I took her aside and, after confirming her desire to accept Jesus as her personal Lord and Savior, I walked her through a confessional prayer. I followed it with a personal prayer for God to keep her close to His heart forever. Then, we played. We kicked a soccer ball around, I carried her on my back, and I spun her around and around until we were both dizzy.
Muslims and Christians, a peaceful interaction
From the orphanage, we began street evangelism, aiding a new church plant as we invited people we passed on the street to attend their service. We stopped at a trailer where four people were, but they primarily spoke Twi, so Annas, one of the Ghanaian missionary students, took the lead. She communicated that two of them were Muslims and were asking different questions about Christianity. I stood back and watched in awe. They engaged in an almost 20-minute conversation about the differences in their opinions with smiles on their faces! I thought, “We could never do that in America!”
Truly, I believe God has placed a supernatural peace over the country of Ghana that makes conversations like that not just possible, but enjoyable! After a while of going back and forth, Annas turned to us and told us they accepted Christ! She then invited me to pray for them. Whether or not they understood me didn’t matter. God could. I prayed for Him to bless them and keep them near until they saw Him face-to-face one day.
More holistic help
The last day of our trip had fatefully arrived. We were heading home that night. But not before two more outreaches! We journeyed to two different schools, this time offering reusable feminine products that a partner church had made for women in Ghana. It was so wonderful seeing the excitement on the girls' faces as they were taught how to properly use this gift. After the distribution, a member from the American team went up and gave a gospel presentation. Once again, holistic help made a way for the gospel to be preached.
At the second school we were at, there were many Muslims among us who were receptive to this preaching and were prayed for!
These outreaches reminded me of the power of these words from Jesus: “‘For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” - Matthew 25:35-40
Providential conversations
There was still another part of the Maranatha project we needed to gather testimonies for: Missionary Training. Those we needed to interview were the same missionary students we had joined on numerous outreaches that week, watching as missionaries and Jesus Film Riders were in the making right before our very eyes. With time ticking away and our flight drawing near, I knew we wouldn’t have enough time to record those testimonies when we got back to our hotel, so we decided to get them while we were on the field. As we scrambled to set up the equipment, I quickly grabbed two guys with whom I had providential conversations earlier that day.
Because I was taking pictures and working more closely with the OneWay Africa staff, I didn’t get to spend as much one-on-one time with the students, but that day on our way to the outreach, I sat next to one named Abraham. As I asked questions, I was in awe of his story. He was from the north (actually in the area I had just been), where he and his family were previously Muslims…that is, until he was shown the Jesus Film by OneWay Africa and surrendered his life to Christ! He shared that he was also a relative of Jonah! And when he expressed his desire to share Christ with others, Jonah encouraged him to get missionary training from OneWay Africa. Now, he is doing just that with the hope of one day becoming a Jesus Film Rider, reaching people who are like he previously was—waiting for someone to share the good news of Jesus!
Later on, I saw another one of the students sitting off in the distance, and I felt led to walk over to him. He was from Mali and was also a Muslim convert! He shared that when he came to Christ, he wanted to give his whole life to becoming a missionary, but not knowing how, he came to OneWay Africa to receive training. He also said he would love to one day become a Jesus Film Rider, and I told him I would LOVE to raise the funds he needed if that day came!
Through those providential conversations, it became clear whose testimonies needed to be recorded—people had to hear these men’s stories. And now you can, along with the other testimonies I gathered while there!
After three weeks back in the states, working on this project with my incredibly talented co-worker and roommate, we completed the video—just in time for it to be shown to the campers at Maranatha during Week 7, the same week we were there last year! You can watch it here: https://vimeo.com/1106791672?share=copy
This has by far been my most favorite project I’ve ever worked on. From raising the funds last year, to watching them be distributed to these projects throughout the year, to going onto the field and gathering testimonies that testify to the fruit produced, to now working on a video that not only wraps it all together but stirs greater passion for Great Commission fulfillment—I am overwhelmed with gratitude and feel deeply privileged to have been part of this God-sized work.
And I CANNOT WAIT for Maranatha to hear how their incredibly generous gift has played a VITAL role in fulfilling the Great Commission this past year.
Sitting on my suitcase, crying in the rain
After we left the second school, we stopped to eat one last meal with the students and the OneWay Africa staff. As we ate, the rain, matching all of our moods, started coming down. When we got back to our hotel, I grabbed my suitcases (as I had providentially packed all of my things the night before) and sat outside waiting for a ride to take me to the office so I could get a thank you message for Maranatha from the OneWay Africa director before we set off for the airport. As I sat on my suitcase, tears started to mingle with the rain as they poured down my face. My time in Ghana was coming to an end. I didn’t want to say goodbye.
But goodbye had come. Shoulders heaving, one by one, I hugged each person, whispering sad sentiments. After climbing on the bus, I put my head in my hands, and my weeping continued. It felt like such a gut-wrenching goodbye. Goodbyes have historically always been hard for me. This one was no different, and still I struggled to put into words exactly what made goodbye so hard. That is, until I watched Interstellar on the plane ride home.
SPOILER ALERT! Matthew McConaughey is called away to space, where time moves more slowly for him than for his children back home. Every so often, he receives a video from them, each time they are more grown and something new has happened—marriage, having children, etc. As he watches these videos, he breaks down and cries, and I joined him. My cry turned into a shoulder-shaking sob that I’m sure drew the concern of nearby passengers, but I couldn’t help it. I was so sad. And I finally had words for why. When you say goodbye, people grow older, and you miss out on things. And just realizing that reason made me cry even more.
It’s why I would cry anytime I left my childhood dog for college. It’s why I still cry anytime I leave my parents and sisters to go back to Chicago. It’s why I cried as I hugged my grandparents goodbye at the airport in Florida. It’s why I cried each time I had to leave OneWay to go back to school. And it’s why I was crying about leaving Ghana on that plane. People grow older, and you miss out on things—a life, even, that you weren’t called to live, even though your heart wishes to.
The days after arriving at my other home were full of tears and reflection. I’m grateful for this home—it’s a special place to me with special people… but there will always be a part of me that longs for my home in Ghana. It hurts to no longer be there. Even so, God has made the path clear. When we were discussing this path, I said to Him with clarity and comfort,
“You’ve given me a heartbeat for Ghana, but You aren’t calling me to live in it, are You? That reality will always be hard, especially when I am there and saying goodbye. But ultimately, I want to be where You want me to be, Lord, and being with You will always be abundantly more than all I ask or imagine, no matter what life I am ‘missing out’ on.”
I am so grateful that while this life will be full of goodbyes from the people and places we are called away from, there is One whom we will never have to say goodbye. And His comfort in the midst of this pain will see me through until the glorious day when we all get to heaven, and goodbyes will be no more. But until then, amidst the sorrowful, necessary goodbyes, my heart will remain in Ghana, and truly, I will always be there, even when I’m not.
Even when I’m not
My heart yearns to go back
In fact, I left it there
The rest of me doesn’t know quite what to do;
it’s a hard burden to bear.
Tears flow down my face
as my heart cries, “when?”
When will we be reunited–
me and the treasure of my heart once again?
It’s a painful thing to wish to stay,
but to be called to just visit.
Mournfully I beg
for just another minute.
Time carries on,
though I plead for it to stand still;
People grow older,
memories left untold.
Oh, if the desire of my heart
would truly unfold.
I dare to imagine
what life would be like
to live, to be, to work, to love
where my heart dances and skips in the light!
“I wish the world would do
what I want it to
I wish the world would blow me,
blow me back to you.”
I turn as I must go
my own separate way.
The path feels clear,
and there’s nothing left to say.
Still, my lips protest
with a soft, shaking cry,
but I find comfort as I cling to the One
whom I will never have to say goodbye.
But truly, my heart remains,
and it’s beating for you will never stop.
It sings, “I’ll always be there,
even when I’m not.”
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