Forever Father Christmas by John

John has a personal blog that I get to borrow posts from sometimes. I thought you all would enjoy these two posts!

A day in the life of an African missionary is something wonderful, joyful, but also odd. You have the greatest life and greatest mission in all the world. The odd part is how you stand out. When you are a missionary, that happens to be white, in a sub-Saharan African country, you are an oddity. For example, of the 3 million people that live in Kumasi, maybe 500 of them are non-African. By this I mean, they are the Lebanese, Chinese, Indian, European, or American - all the groups that make up the 'bronifuo' (this is the term for all foreigners). The thing that really makes the missionary different is how he interacts with the people. All other foreigners are here on business, and personal interaction is simply that - business. But the missionary's job is people, and this fact takes him to the local people everyday.

Now this said, you have to understand that most children here do not see white people that often. Also, the average adult rarely interacts with a white person. So, the broni (white man), just like all things in the world that are little understood, has ascended in the mind of the average African to the level of a myth, a legend, a demigod. They are special people who come from the lands of promise, and in their pockets are unlimited resources, plane tickets, visas, and toys. They are the Santa Claus (Father Christmas) of the world. They come with red sweaty faces and jolly smiles carrying bags full of presents for all the good people in the community. (This idea has been greatly encouraged by the UN and other Aid Organizations that visit local communities). The foreigner is greeted, cheered, and loved, just as Santa is welcomed. No one would dare to turn away this benevolent spirit, this embodiment of the hopes and dreams of happy children. You might think that I am being trite, but it is true.

I was reminded of this today as I visited some new people. I had to visit a few new areas, and I had to go back to some places that I had not been in a while.
I'll give you a brief description of my walk: I'm walking through the streets; the first child sees me; I begin to hear the whispers, "Broni! Broni!" At each door, at each corner, I see the faces of smiling children pointing, laughing, waving. Some will be brave and shake my hand; some will just follow along for a few blocks sounding the call that a white guy is visiting the community. Today I had five children, starry-eyed and in wonder, run up the road and hug my legs. Normally after a while a few adults join in and greet me, laughing with joy when they hear me speak Twi. Overall I feel like the Santa Claus of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. I am the last hurrah, the grand finale. I now know how tired he must get after waving at all those children.

When an African missionary first comes to the field, he feels like every day he must face an overwhelming papparazzi. He feels like a Santa at the mall with tired knees, just waiting for the day to be over so that he can go home. But, in time it becomes part of life. You adjust, you learn, and you grow. And though you cannot give a bike, an orange, or a football to the children that ask you while you walk down the road, you can give them something - HOPE! Hope, because a gospel-preaching church is being started in their area. Hope, because they can be invited to Sunday school. Hope, because you get a chance to invite their family to Bible studies. And with this hope comes strength!

Because this hope gives you a mission, you learn to live. Just like all overweight, elderly men with beards in the States around Christmas, you live with the association. So, to all those odd Father Christmas missionaries out there that are tired of all the attention... just remember with the job comes great rewards. Just like old Saint Nick, we get the blessing of giving every person a gift. Not one wrapped in paper, but one straight from Jesus Christ - the gift of salvation.

Feeling the Nail by John

"I don't want to..."
Those would be the words to describe my feelings this morning. I was walking out of the house to go to the pharmacy and buy medicine for my foot - I stepped on a nail this weekend and have not enjoyed walking on it since! As I got to the junction and waited for a car, I kept debating with myself - should I go and see Inusah or skip it today? I had a good excuse! I had a hole in my foot and would have had to walk about 1/4 mile to get to his house. I mean, come on, did God really expect me to walk that far with a hole from a nail in my foot? Did I have to hobble around like a person with polio? I could just wait until Friday.

Then God put this thought in my mind. Jesus hung on a cross for hours, pinned by three nails for me, and here I was complaining about a small hole. That thought won the arguement. How could I fight against that truth? When I got on the tro-tro (mini-bus) Philippians 3:10 came to mind. 'That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death.' I was not really suffering but simply getting to understand a little more of what Christ did for me. He bore the pain of nails for me, so couldn't I take the discomfort of one for someone else?

I am glad God won.

After getting to Inusah's house and waiting for him to finish the last few minutes of a movie he was watching, we started our Bible study. Currently I have been assigning him chapters in John to read and then he asks me questions about them. The goal was to get the Word into his mind and let It answer the questions that were still plaguing him about Christ.

Well, to my suprise he had some questions out of First Corinthains chapter six. After we talked for a while, Inusah looked at me and said, "I am going to become a Christian today, I am going to confess Christ!" Before I could say anything he said, "I today believe that Jesus is Christ, that He is God, and that He died for my sins, and I choose to follow Him, with all my strength, power, will, and mind. I am a Christian. I will not turn back!"

At first, I just sat there. I have witnessed to him for so long. I have asked him so many times if he was ready. And after all the waiting, it seemed so sudden. It had finally happened!

After a moment Inusah asked me what I thought. I took him to Romans chapter ten and showed him God's Word - if he really believed what he had just said, then God said he was saved. I asked him what would happen if he died, and he told me that he would go to Heaven. Then he added, "If my family asks me now if I am a Muslim, I will tell them that I am Christian now." Then, "Pastor now that I am a Christian, what do I need to do?"

I talked to him about the five basic things a Christian should do: read the Bible, pray, go to church, witness, and give. After that, we talked about baptism. On Friday we will continue our study on baptism. Baptism will be a big step. Confession is important to the individual converting from Islam, but not the family. Confession can be hidden, but when a person gets publicly baptized, there is no turning back. Often that is when the persecution starts.

I was still in shock when we parted, and he walked away with a big smile on his face. You never know when the fruit will be ripe, and God will allow it to be picked! I guess that is why faithfulness is so important.

I believe God wanted me to see the truth of Philippians 3:10 today. I must be willing to fellowship with His suffering and die to self, before I can taste the power of His ressurection. There is no resurrection without death, and there is no cross without suffering. God, please let us be willing to feel the nails so that we can see Your person and power!

Tag, I'm It!

A few days ago (or maybe weeks by now), I got tagged. I had no idea what that meant until I saw it on another friend's blog. Getting tagged means that I must write seven random things about myself and then tag seven other people. Since this is not just a personal blog, but also a ministry blog, I wasn't quite sure what to write. After much deliberation, I have decided to tell you seven random things about my life in Ghana. So...for those of you who are curious about the abnormal, the mundane, and the odd, here it is!
1. Even though the grass grows twelve months a year in Ghana, you will rarely hear a lawn mower or smell cut grass. Our grass here is cut by machete, and since it takes so long, it never smells like it has been freshly mowed.
2. We have very few public restrooms in Ghana. Let's just say it makes potty-training interesting!
3. You will never smell fabric softener sheets or hear a clothes dryer running. Everything is hung on a clothesline. Unfortunately, it doesn't come into the house smelling spring-fresh most of the time!
4. I have become an expert cockroach sniper - I can kill a cockroach at ten paces with my flip-flop.
5. Most people here eat their cornflakes (about the only kind of cereal you can find on a regular basis in Ghana) with sweetened condensed milk.
6. The proper way to eat Ghanaian food is with your fingers.
7. I rarely get the chance to have a hot bath. We take bucket baths here, because the water doesn't run on a regular basis, and we don't have hot water heaters.
And there you have it - seven random things about my life here in Ghana! I have plenty more interesting and odd things to share, but I'll save them for another day!

Hindsight is 20/20 by John

It is always amazing to me how God can take the things that we think are annoying, frustrating, or bad, and make them work together for good. I have seen this happen before, but it still amazes me.

Well, we had another very personal and wonderful lesson about this again this week. We got back from Bible study Thursday night around 9:30pm. Everyone was tired as usual, and when the taxi pulled into our street, I heard the one thing that I hate to hear at night here - the generator was on at the hotel next door. Our lights were off!

This was one of the things that God used to work on us when we first came here, and we have finally gotten used to it. But, we have been spoiled lately. I think our power has been on for the last three weeks straight! Anyway, we started the regular power-out-at-night routine: move the girls mattresses into our room where it is cooler, turn on the rechargeable lamps, light the candles, and pray that the lights come on or that it rains so that it gets cool enough to sleep. Well, I was laying there trying to be comfortable, frustrated because the girls were not sleeping, and asking God, "Why do the lights have to be off tonight?" I never knew how important it could be for the lights to be off.

Ella and I finally fell asleep, but Carey and Patty stayed awake (or should I say Carey kept Patty awake?). Carey said that she was afraid and wanted mom to lay next to her. After some time of talking, Patty told her that if she was afraid that she could pray to God and ask Him to help her not be afraid. Well, Carey thought about that for a while. Then, Patty said, Carey bowed her head and prayed, "Jesus, please forgive me for all my sins, and wash me with your blood. I believe Jesus died for me, thank you!" Well, needless to say, Patty was stunned. She asked Carey why she had prayed that and Carey said that she was afraid of going to Hell and needed forgiveness. After talking for a while Patty felt that she had a firm understanding of everything. Patty said that the best part was that after praying, Carey seemed to be at peace. After blowing out the candle, she just laid in her bed singing 'Jesus Loves Me'.

I was oblivious to the whole thing. The next morning I was at my desk praying when Carey came out and said, "Dad I prayed to Jesus last night, and He washed my sins away, so I am going to Heaven." We got to talk, and I could see that she was really happy. I have prayed since my daughter was born that she would trust Christ, and I never thought that the power going out would be so important.

You know, if we are not careful, we start to wish that we could remove the hard things in life, but I am starting to learn that they really are a gift! Just like Thursday night, sometimes the hard things give God the chance to do amazing things that you praise Him for afer!

Thank you God for letting the lights go out for 12 hours on October 17th, 2008, the day my daughter got SAVED!

How to Pray for Missionaries

Often we are asked how people can pray for us. I can usually give a quick list of people who need to be saved and some general things about our ministry, but I'm never quite sure how to tell people they can pray for us personally. This week I was sent a great email from a missionary's mother. She uses the following outline to pray for her kids on the missionfield every day.

1. Pray for Character Heb 13:18-19
Lord please help the missionaries
to have a clear conscience
to be innocent when falsely accused.
to be blameless when dealing with sin in others.
to never cut corners or compromise convictions
to live an honest, noble, and honorable life.
2. Pray for clarity Col. 4:4
to make the message plain and simple.
to openly present the gospel for all to hear.
to conscientiously study the local language.
to constantly seek ways to impact the local culture.
to allow the holy spirit to do his work.
3. Pray for courage
to develop a fearless, daring heart.
to speak out even when physically or emotionally drained
to have freedom to speak out when opportunity is given.
to be culturally conscious, but always turn to the scriptures.
4. Pray for chances Col. 4:3
to seek diligently for open doors
to depend upon the Lord to open doors
to knock until doors open
to avoid forcing doors open
to realize that big doors always mean many adversaries
5. Pray for deliverance ll Thes. 3:1-2
to be shielded from malicious wickedness.
to be protected so ministry can progress.
to be careful not to shun serving in difficult places.
to be anticipating opposition to all true ministry.
to be rescued when facing all harm.

An Atypical Fall Day

For those of you who don't know much about geography, Ghana is located about three degrees north of the equator. For those of you who don't know much about science, that means we don't have four regular seasons like many part of the United States. In other words, my Fall isn't very Fallish! Growing up in Michigan, I loved the four distinct seasons, with Fall being my favorite. We first moved to Ghana the end of August, 2003. It wasn't too hard to deal with not having a Fall until my mom mailed me a package with pumpkin stickers and Halloween (or Harvest, if you prefer) candy. It suddenly hit me that I would live in an eternal summer for as long as I am in Ghana. That was very hard for me to realize! Summer is nice and all, but the thought of never being cold, never seeing the leaves change, never seeing the birds fly south, never getting out the sweaters, and never enjoying hot chocolate in the same way was not an easy thing to accept! It certainly wasn't a trial I'd ever thought about facing! After living here for five years, it is something I've come to accept. I do decorate my front room with pumpkins and leaves (which makes absolutely no sense to anybody here!), and I do make pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies. It helps to ready my mind for Thanksgiving and Christmas, which are even more difficult to learn to celebrate in this "tropical paradise," but celebrate them, we do!!!
On that note, I thought I'd include my views from the Simple Woman's Day Book...

Outside my window... I see my laundry hanging on the line and the back wall of our compound (all properties are walled here).
I am thinking...I've got lots to do before going visiting with Gifty and several friends come over for emotuo ne nkatienkwan (groundnut soup and rice balls).
I am thankful for...the great fun we had at our first youth activity last night.
From the kitchen...dirty dishes calling my name and leftover mess from the activity last night to be cleaned up.
I am wearing...my robe!!!
I am creating...two blogs, several letters, exciting lesson plans, delicious dinners, and captivating Sunday school lessons (sounds rather ambitious, doesn't it?!?) this week.
I am going...out to do salvation Bible studies at one o'clock this afternoon.
I am reading...my Bible, and something soon to be determined as I've just finished a short biography about Amy Carmichael.
I am hoping...to get the house clean, dinner for tonight cooked, meals for lunch and dinner tomorrow cooked, Sunday school stories studied, lesson plans written, weekly menu done, and blogs done before tomorrow (I think that may take a miracle, though!).
I am hearing...Carey and Ella playing on the porch.
One of my favorite things...the opportunity to connect through the internet with friends and family very far away!
A few plans for the rest of the week...I'll just say I'm glad it is Saturday - the end of the week!
Well, that's my view of things from good 'ole Africa!

Ghana, my home

As I go about my daily life here in Ghana, I am often asked a seemingly odd question: "How do you find Ghana?"
When I first came, all I could think to say was, "On a map!" I soon found out, though, that wasn't really what was meant by the question.
The people I meet want to know what I think of their country - do I like it? hate it? tolerate it?
At first, I said things like, "It's nice," or "It's a good place." After a while, I started saying things like, "I've been here a long time," or "It's normal." But since we've come back from furlough, I've been able to say in all honesty, "It's my home." Is that possible? Can this place really be my home?
When we first moved to Ghana, over five years ago now, I struggled every day with this fact. I had brought a pillow with me that said "Home is where your heart is." Every day as I made my bed (actually my mattress, since we didn't have a bed), I would think about that statement. Most days I would cry, because I knew my heart wasn't here, but in another place. I often wondered if Ghana would ever be my home. The amazing thing is that somewhere along the way, it happened. I don't know when, I don't really know how, but at some point, God changed my heart and my mind. I can't say that it has all been easy, but I've found that I don't learn too much when things are easy anyways. I can say, though, that it has been good. And each day, I'm reminded of the good home God has given me!