Lessons in Humanity

As many of you know, my grandfather recently passed away. As a result, the past few weeks have indeed been a time of challenge. It has been a challenge to say goodbye from a distance to a man that was an enormous part of my life, and it has been a challenge to be so far away from the rest of my family during a time of longing to be close to them, to be together with them, to share even moments of grief which we would then share for the rest of our lives. But in all my sadness and longing, I trust my God and His timing, His timing for life and for death. When there is nothing more I can do, I must trust His plan and purpose.

Recently I traveled to the lively fishing town of Elmina. It is a picturesque and welcoming town built on sandy, palm-tree lined beaches, but it is most well known as the site of St. George's Castle, the oldest European structure still standing in sub-Saharan Africa. A Unesco World Heritage Site, built in 1482 by the Portuguese but captured in 1637 by the Dutch, the castle served as the African Headquarters for the Dutch West Indies Company, initially storing gold, but as slaves became the major object of commerce, the storerooms were converted to dungeons.

The impressive white castle sits on the edge of town for all to see. We crossed a bridge over the fishing harbor filled with painted wooden boats, men bringing in their catch, women meeting the men to take the fish and collect them in huge metal bowls. Then we walked on a small drawbridge over the large empty moat. As we journeyed through the castle, we were taken to the dungeons where we heard horrible stories of how men, women, and children had been inhumanely treated there. They were allowed to bathe only once every three months, they were fed only once a week, they were chained together in the cells, forced to relieve themselves in the corner, and given only one small hole for light and ventilation. The cells seem to smell of human wretchedness even to this day. I walked through the dungeons, the punishment cells, and the slave auctioning room, hearing the stark reality of the castle's horrid history, imagining the fear, anxiety, and hopelessness that filled the people who had been trapped within the castle's walls, in the places where I stood.

After Elmina we traveled onto Kakum National Park where we walked on a rope and cable canopy walkway, made of seven viewing platforms connected by narrow suspension bridges hung hundreds of feet above the rainforest floor, providing a spectacular view of God's creation, in sharp contrast to the man-made hell I'd just seen in the walls of St. George's.

In the past week, I read a novel by Elizabeth Berg, The Handmaid and the Carpenter. It is the story of Mary and Joseph, and how they struggled with the news of Mary's pregnancy. While reading the story, I recognized Mary and Joseph as real humans, as you and I are human - emotional, inquisitive, in love with each other, in love with God, devoted, but capable of doubt. Never before did I truly understand their humanity and the reality of the circumstances they faced.

Since coming to Ghana I have learned the truth of our humanity. The truth that we live and we die, the truth that there is both good and evil all around us, the truth of a world created with abounding beauty despite the evil, and the truth that a baby was born to a poor humble girl in a dirty stable to grow into a man, a completely human man who would die to save me from myself and to redeem our world, as mixed with good and evil as it is. This is the truth of our humanity in God's good hands.

Deep calls to Deep

Deep calls to deep
in the roar of you waterfalls
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.
--Psalm 42:7

This past weekend, Becci, Anna, and I rode three hours north in a tightly packed tro-tro to the town of Hohoe (pronounced Ho-ho-ay). It was a weekend full of incredible hikes through Jungle Book rainforest's, alongside rivers, and with views of neighboring mountains and neighboring Togo.

Friday we went to Wli Waterfalls. After an hour-long hike we approached hundreds of butterflies with the striking falls up ahead, they are the tallest in West Africa and are indeed impressive. We put down our bags, stripped down to our swim suits, and walked slowly into the pool of icy, but refreshing, water. As we moved closer and closer to the falls, the air was rushing and blowing water everywhere, blinding us. So we put our backs to the falls and took one step at a time, fighting the forces, and finally arriving directly beneath the falls. The pressure was incredible as the water was crashing down, rushing and roaring around me.

After the swim, we decided to hike up the mountain to the upper falls. At the beginning the guide, offered us walking sticks... not a good sign. It was a challenging and tedious hike, but as we climbed higher and higher I found pleasure in the work and my vulnerability, as I witnessed God's beauty surrounding me. It's an incredible experience to push yourself like that, mentally and physically, and only once the falls were reached did I truly appreciate my efforts and the new perspective that came from being on top.

Saturday we went to Togba Falls, and took an easier hike through the beautiful rainforest complete with eight wooden bridges, at the ends of which were clusters of bright yellow butterflies. At the falls we swam a little and then enjoyed a tiny picnic. On Sunday we went to Logba-Tota, another waterfall and also a cave. After yet another challenging hike, now on sore legs from the past few days, we arrived at a most beautiful fall hidden in a corner of the mountain. We put down our bags, went into the water up to our waists and then hoisted ourselves into the small, dark cave.

In life we are constantly surrounded by majesty, and as I struggled through one hike after another, I was reminded by how amazing God's love is that he would give us a world so full of beauty, and I was reminded by how small I am compared to the greatness of His creation.

The mountains sing your glory, hallelujah
The canyons echo sweet amazing grace
My spirit sails, the mighty gales are bellowing your name
and I've got nothing to say
Glory, Glory Hallelujah
--Andrew Peterson