“He picked me up, He turned me around, He placed my feet on higher ground", the song goes.

I am grateful, grateful, grateful.

Work is going incredibly well. All engines are going. I also have some great news; after Christmas I will begin a placement at the radio station at the University of Ghana in Accra for the rest of my time here. I will feel sad to leave my people in Tamale, but it feels like the move that is destined. I actually met some American students in Tamale who are doing an exchange program at the university and as they were leaving the restaurant we were in, I told one of the guys that I would be down there. This was before the actual decision was made, but as the words came out of my mouth, they felt true. I have learned so much this week. And I have my own pen drive. I found one with Ramadan's help for under half of the price that I thought it would be.

Even with the young girl, she and I were laughing and catching some jokes at the office when she was trying to teach me the key Dagbani sayings which she deemed as being:

what is your name?
some basic food types
and
I will slap you (people commonly say this without any real intent to do so)

More than all of that, feeling God's hand bring me through so many hurdles to a place of grace, strenght and favour. I felt His peace through all of it, but I was wondering why so many obstacles and so much anxiety was coming at me and getting into my heart. Just as I was typing this sentence on an unsaved document (all that I wrote afer this sentence was already typed) every computer in the cafe shut off except for mine.

I know things aren't lways going to be easy, but His favour and grace is wonderful.

Thank you for your prayers, warms thoughts and warm words.

So, I have a few true and funny stories.

The other morning I woke up, and as usual Sister Saphora was getting her daughters ready for school. Usually Melimba cries when she has to wake up and does not stop until she is being fed. Sister Saphora is usually chiding Chelpong for any little thing that she is not happy with. The other day, Chelpong managed to come home from school without her socks. She didn’t have an explanation, and Sister Saphora was not happy with her. She was lecturing her in the morning and offered a threat. She said, “if you do that again, I will send you to the village. You will not be in school, you will be picking firewood from the bush and a snake will bite you and you will die”.

Chelpong, with her eyes wide open and feeling the scorning as deeply as February babies tend to feel such hurts, replied softly, “I want to go to school”.

Before seeing Chelpong’s face, I had to crack a smile. I hear her chiding the children all the time, but this was too much. I was picturing little Chelpong with the firewood, and was caught off-guard by the snake reference.

The same morning, Melimba (remember she is two years old and Chelpong is five), snuck off that same morning and headed out the door. I went to get her in her school uniform and bring her back in the house. She just pointed at the gate and started bawling. Eventually she spit out the words, “I want to go to school”.

We laughed after I told her that I had never heard a child crying because they want to go to school.

Later in the evening, I had a good conversation with Sister Saphora about Chelpong. I had wanted to speak with her, but she is very defensive and has strong beliefs about the differences in how Europeans and Africans do things.

She mentioned a proverb that says, “the breasts you don’t want are the ones you get” in reference to not liking the way that Chelpong behaves. I took some time to share with her my insight into Chelpong who reminds me of many of my February born friends. Amazingly, she just listened. Usually she counters my ideas about things, but she took it in. I had prayed about finding a way to speak with her and the prayer was answered.

The next funny story was at the post office. I have been going there quite often to check for my birthday present that has not arrived yet. I have become known there and I have access to even the restricted areas. One man, the head of the parcel and customs department has become a friend of mine. Anyway, a few days ago I went to the office and saw him wearing a t-shirt with a picture of two Ziploc bags full of weed on it. I, smiling, asked him if he knew what was on his t-shirt. He, with a blank face said, “no”. It was a gift from a friend that returned from the US. When I explained, he was shocked. I was cracking up. Imagine a supervisor in the customs office with a t-shirt sporting two big bags of weed!

We laughed about it for awhile.

Another funny part of that situation was that this warm hearted man of about 50 years or so, keeps reaching to hold my hand. Out here, men who are friends are often seen walking down the street holding hands. It’s very common, but I am not with it. I mean, he really is someone that I connect with – good hearted, but…anyway, when we walk from one part of the office to the next, he always reaches for my hand. I always find a way to kind of shake his hand and then place my hand on his shoulder or something. Can you picture me walking through the postal yard hand-in-hand with this elder Ghanaian man?
Well, time for me to go and have some dinner. Lots of news to update you all with, but when I get more time. It’s getting late and I need to eat.