Tapestry…

 

It was good to be back at our home church, after missing two weeks while in Ghana.

But all through worship I kept thinking about them,

the Ghanaians we met,

the way they dance in worship,

the way, no matter what type of place they call home,

they come to church clean and neat and wearing their finest and best,

the way church lasts for hours,

yet not once did I hear a Ghanaian baby or child fuss or cry during the service,

and I still wonder how they do it.

I felt it, there in my home church, that I had left a piece of my heart on that other continent,

yes, because my daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren are still there,

but more than just that.

I realize that they are part of me, those beautiful Ghanaians,

and I am part of them,

and together we are all a part of the beautiful tapestry that God calls

the body of Christ.

The threads:

Bishop A., bishop for his network of churches in Ghana,

who used to walk miles into the villages to hold services

and has raised up over twenty churches,

yet in such humility and lowliness,

set the tables, served us tea,

served…

Bishop’s wife, who isn’t confident in her ability to speak English,

who greeted me with the words,

“Helloooooo, Mom!”,

and while we visited with her,

out of the blue began to sing “I love You, Lord, and I lift my voice…”,

in English,

and she didn’t know, but God did,

how that’s the song I’ve always sung with my grandbabies before they went to sleep,

and how what she did was God’s sign to me

that His eye is on my grandbabies while they’re in Ghana…

J., who cooked our meals while we stayed at the retreat center,

whose jollof rice with sauce was the best,

and who lit up like a Christmas tree when I told her that the meal was delicious…

O., who is in charge of cleaning the retreat center,

a young woman in her mid-twenties,

who probably weighs no more than 120lbs,

but who carried 5 gallon containers full of water on her head

to every guest in the retreat center so we could bathe

when the pump quit working…

F., Bishop’s intern, son of the pastor in the fishing village, Winneba,

loves Jesus, loves to preach, a servant,

a world changer…

K., our driver, guide, protector, friend,

one whose life was changed by Jesus in every way,

fun, funny…

So many threads,

pastors in little villages,

women who eagerly attended the workshop I taught at the conference,

beautiful Ghanaian children,

beautiful threads,

knit together in Christ.

Still following,

Elizabeth