Nothing Without Love

A week ago today I got on a plane and set out on my biggest adventure yet. With one backpack, three suitcases, a passport and lots of prayers, I was ready.  I met up with a missionary team in Atlanta and ventured across the ocean on a long, but exciting flight to Accra, Ghana. After spending three very long hours in customs because of items the team brought to give to the village children, we headed to the GILLBT guest house not far from the airport. I had been traveling for over 24 hours by the time we arrived at the guest house and was exhausted. We had to be up by 5 am the next morning to take one more short flight to Tamale (Tah-mah-ley). Once we arrived at the airport I was greeted by Dan and Di Dzokotoe, the lovely couple that I am now living with.

The drive from the airport to their house was the first time I really saw Africa, but it was like I had been here many times before in my mind.  I was not shocked by the women carrying babies on their backs and baskets on their heads, or barefoot children with ragged clothes, or homes made of scrap metal and trash that lined the streets. I was shocked that I wasn’t shocked by it all. After arriving at the Dzokotoe’s home I walked through the backyard to the school. The children greeted me and yelled out “Auntie Becca!”, I was told that the last American girl that left only days before I arrived was named Becca and we look quite a bit alike. Meeting the children for the first time almost brought me to tears because I have waited so long for that moment. Before I left America I had a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that I would really be teaching in Africa soon, but standing in front of them made it all very real.

goats in Tamale 

A few of the kids at school

On Friday I was able to go out with the IHH team (the group I flew over with) to the village of Tarikpaa which is about a 40 minute drive from Tamale. We met with the Ghanaian team in the church that is being built in the village. We had an hour of prayer to start the day off. It was more of a traditional Ghanaian prayer meeting so there was lots of loud singing, praying all at once, and translating from English to Dagbani.  At the end, Pastor Mohammad called me up to the front and told everyone there what I am doing at the school and the entire group prayed for me. It is hard to describe how that moment felt. But try to imagine over 50 people, young and old, different languages, all praying for you and the work you will be doing. It was an untouchable moment.  We then walked into the village hand in hand with beautiful, barefoot, dark skinned, little kids. My heart was so happy. We got to meet the chief of the village. He has a nice hut where he was sitting up on a platform and we sat around him in chairs and on the floor. He was very kind and even let us take a picture with him at the end. It is acceptable in Ghanaian culture to have multiple wives and he currently has 3 and over 40 children. The last thing we got to do in the village that day was visit Pastor Mohammad’s home. He lives in a very small hut with other huts connecting to his that his wife and children sleep in. He wishes that he and his wife could sleep in the same hut but it is their culture that the wife sleeps in a room with the children and since their goal is to reach the people of the village they want to be as much like them as possible without going against their own beliefs.  Something that I just cannot get out of my mind is when his wife showed us where she sleeps. Two plastic mats sit in the corner that she rolls out at night on the concrete floor. Beside it was just her bible. She was not ungrateful or ashamed of her living conditions, but she was satisfied with what she did have. It painted the most beautiful picture of simplicity and truly relying on God. It made me feel very ashamed of the way I have lived so richly in America. I was reminded how overly blessed I have been growing up with more than I could ever truly need. I never want to forget her and her similarity to the woman described in Proverbs 31. I’ve never met a woman that depicts the scripture as well as she did, and I had only just met her.

walking through Tarikpaa

huts in Tarikpaa village

The IHH team with the chief of Tarikpaa

just love 

the woman in the center is Pastor Mohammad's wife, this is her kitchen

this is where Pastor Mohammad's wife sleeps

saying "goodbye"

In this city of about 1.5 million Ghanaian people, one white American stands out and there is no other way to put it. I am getting used to all of the stares and waves because of my skin color, people telling me they want to be my friend just because they think I have money,  the Muslim call to prayer that wakes me up at 4 am every morning (also after lunch and dinner, every day), cold showers, power going out at any time and for however long, never using my left hand (it is considered and insult), never being in a rush for anything, going to bed early, never wearing makeup, and long skirts every day.

 However, I was fearful of what I would teach these people and how I was going to help them. Twice within two days before I arrived in Tamale the scripture 1 Corinthians 13:3 was shared with me in America and in Ghana by different people.  "If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.”  God was so clearly telling me that all I have to do is love them. I complain to God often that I hate how much love my heart has to give, because it often just leaves me with a broken heart and people to miss. This is absolutely why God gave me the heart he did, to love these people. I may not have any clue why God has called me here or what exactly I am doing to help them, but I do know that I can love them. 

village children