Wrapping up the travel log, here's a little insight into my psyche. Once again, for those with a strong aversion to novel posts, feel free to skip ahead.
One of the biggest things I've wrestled with this trip is being "ok" with shooting pictures of the children on the lake. I'm not sure why this hasn't bothered me as much in the past. Maybe with the addition of the video camera this trip, it was more of a primary focus? Hard to say. I generally am able to shut off emotionally, get behind the camera, and go. There's a small window of time in which to get good shots alongside the boats on the lake, so that helps me focus on the task rather than what's really in front of me. That all sounds very calloused, but I naturally tend to internalize emotions. That said, these children trigger my heart strings in profound ways. And so, several times during this trip, I found myself in situations in which I couldn't shoot at all...
This morning we encountered Kwabena, a boy of about 6. His master told him to hide before we came alongside the boat, and he quickly laid down on a pile of raw fish and covered himself with a flour sack. He was sobbing uncontrollably out of fear. I have no words for this that are repeatable.
I did manage one shot of Kwabena hiding, but I felt like such an intruder. Yet, these are the pictures that people are drawn to, that evoke emotion and response. It's this weird juxtaposition.
So here's where I've landed: I am committed to and have the responsibility to tell the story of these children. My job – not just for MP – but as a Jesus-follower is to speak on their behalf. If you know me, you know that public speaking is not one of my talents. But (although I'm no professional), I do think God has given me the ability to speak in other ways – through creative outlets. I'm trying to embrace that, but it's challenging. There are heart-breaking moments. Sometimes it means zooming in and focusing on a child who has no name, no hope, and no future. But if I don't tell their story and show people "this is not right, this is not how God intended his children to live, that we have a responsibility to make it right", how will they know? Who will tell them? And so, it's not about me and my feelings; it's about them and the Kingdom.
One last thing I'll tag on to the above, and then I'll cease the ranting: I love finding out the names of the children on the lake. Those simple exchanges provide us with an opportunity to restore dignity and identity, even for a brief moment; we pray for that to permanently be restored one day. Each of these children are unique and special and hand-picked by their Creator. I'd like you to meet a few of our new friends.
Kwame & Kojo:
Agabe:
Kwasi:
John:
Would you please pray for these boys by name?
'Tis so bittersweet to meet another Christian, missionary, photographer, writer, blogger, who can relate to what I experienced on Lake Volta last fall... You put words to what my heart felt, and what my life experienced.
Barely a day goes by that these children, their faces, their lives, aren't on my heart and in my prayers. We may be back "home" here in Canada, but home will never feel the same after having been out on the lake, on the islands, and with these children.
College Station, Texas? One of my dear, dear friends and fellow photographer is also from CS!
JD: Thanks for your kind words; it's always encouraging to know someone is actually reading along! I'd love to know your connection to Ghana and Lake Volta and hear more about that. Feel free to email me: gretchen at mercyproject.net. You can also check out more about Mercy Project at www.mercyproject.net. We just launched a new site and feel like it really tells the story about our work with the kids on Lake Volta. Who do you know from College Station? Small world!