This season. This season of a super short spring melding into an already-too-hot-summer has flown. Not every day; there are always those that stretch so long I feel as if time has stopped right when I'd prefer it not too. But the last two months have been packed with goodness and waiting and full life all rolled into one:

I attended a sewing night, organized by a sweet and talented church friend. We kicked off marathon registration (how is it time already?!) in mid-May and hosted the first Night Trail Run at Royalty Pecan Farms. A new favorite for sure; it was a blast. And then in the last three weeks... I've traveled to Dallas – partly for work but also to see good friends – and was reminded that I am surrounded by such good people near and far. I've traveled to Houston on a day trip to visit a Ghanaian Consulate. We successfully hosted our first live Art Auction online and were blessed by so many generous supporters. And I've traveled to Abilene for a quick weekend with the fam – time with my favorite two littles, exploring a downtown festival and spending time on the golf course.

Now it's departure day. Thankfully, last week/weekend was just hectic and frantic enough wrapping things up that I have had the morning to breathe. Even carved out a little "coffee break" before stuffing the camera equipment, snacks, and a few sets of clothes (essentials, in that order) in my carry-on bags. My days this week are already running together – which does not bode well for the next 10 – though losing track of time in Africa only aids the cultural transition. I'm not much for historical/political holiday celebration in general (don't shoot). [I do always find it ironic to be in Ghana over Independence Day; our last two group trips landed us there during that day and has changed my view of the way we celebrate and view freedom in America.] And so it never occurred to me until this morning that we're leaving for Ghana... on Juneteenth.

Today Juneteenth commemorates African American freedom and emphasizes education and achievement. It is a day, a week, and in some areas a month marked with celebrations, guest speakers, picnics and family gatherings. It is a time for reflection and rejoicing. It is a time for assessment, self-improvement and for planning the future. Its growing popularity signifies a level of maturity and dignity in America long over due. In cities across the country, people of all races, nationalities and religions are joining hands to truthfully acknowledge a period in our history that shaped and continues to influence our society today. Sensitized to the conditions and experiences of others, only then can we make significant and lasting improvements in our society... Juneteenth is the oldest nationally celebrated commemoration of the ending of slavery in the United States. (via)

And yet there are more slaves in the world today (including the US) – an estimated 27 million – than at any other point in history. God, help us.

So we continue to go. We leave families and jobs and comfort and "easy" because we believe in freedom, and we believe that we cannot see the 27 million and turn a blind eye. One of the greatest lessons I've learned in working for Mercy Project is that we can easily be paralyzed by the magnitude of the problems, by the idea that a few average people cannot possibly make a dent in the brokenness for fear of failure. Or, we can choose to simply go and dive in because we are called to. Lucky for me, there are people who push me to "go" on the days it seems too overwhelming.

I love that this God I know is not a God of coincidence or happenstance. He is not idle or distant, and He finds ways to speak to us when we most try to keep Him at bay.

Our group trip crew of 9 embarks for Ghana this afternoon. I am anxious but cannot wait to share this week with fresh eyes and hearts who will meet the children on the lake for the first time. Not much is certain except that I am never left unfilled upon return. And for that, it is always worth it to "go".

True to my compartmentalizing self, I seem to have put my thoughts and feelings from last week in a box, placed it high up on a shelf, and tucked into the to-do's of the week. I'm not really an emotional person, but I find that I either err on the side of just listing facts or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, am a complete wreck and can't choke out anything coherent. I feel very inadequate.

There are no words to explain the feeling of seeing over 2 years of work culminate in a single moment, the laughter heard on a bus ride – the first full day of freedom from the lake, the realization that "I get my very own bed" for the first time ever, the pride in a 15-year-old's eyes as he stands and counts to 30 all by himself.

But as I sort through pictures and journal entries, I'm starting to see these moments as glimpses of the Kingdom, little excerpts captured in my heart; they cut to my core and change the very essence of who I am. So I'll share a few of those over the next week or so. And perhaps slowly, that box will come down off the shelf to be opened.

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Here are the "nuts and bolts" of the trip for those who wonder what the week looked like. (Granted, it looked nothing like we initially planned.) We discovered before even leaving Houston that Satan was very much working against every single travel plan; we truly had to fight for this trip and these kids. We had major issues getting out of Houston and nearly missed our flight leaving; Nigeria proved to be... well, Nigeria, but we arrived in Accra safe and sound Thursday night. Planned to fly to Tamale (up by the lake) the next morning but got to the airport to find that "all flights are cancelled; they are working on the runway today". Three flight inquiries later, we hopped a plane that would get us halfway to the lake and then had to drive the rest of the way. 3 miles from the lake we came across a roadblock of protesters and had to take an alternative route. About that time, we had a discussion on spiritual warfare!

Finally made it to Adovepke much later than intended, but were blessed in having things already set into motion with the villagers. Each master signed a contract for releasing their trafficked children, and more interviews of the children helped solidify our final list. A few of our crew stayed the night in the village; others of us took a boat back to Makongo for the night. Saturday morning: rescue day. We intended to not get the kids until Sunday, but there was a funeral to work around. Of course. But Saturday went so smoothly, and the village was gracious and generous in sending off the children. 24 former child slaves were called by name and loaded into our boat.

We took the kids to an overnight shelter after the 2 hour boat ride and a brief bus ride. Sunday was the big bus day as we traveled 8 hours down to the rehabilitation shelter. The children were so excited and their faces lit up as we finally arrived and showed them around: running water, toilets, their own beds, schoolrooms, a futbol field, and a place for eating together. We spent Monday watching them transition into school classes, new friends, and routine. Interviews were conducted as well. So many stories to tell.

We left Accra for the airport but the flight out was 3.5 hours late, which made us miss our connecting flight in Nigeria. Long story short, our best option was to remain on the flight and take our chances in Nigeria. Not a very good option after all! We spent 22 hours in a Nigerian airport lounge until we could get a flight out the following night, this time routing through Germany. 7 more hours to Frankfurt, a 7 hour layover, and a 12 hour flight into Houston. Couldn't make all that up if I tried.

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Needless to say, we're so happy to be home. But no doubt we would do it all over again for those 24 sweet faces... and hopefully soon, we'll get to with our next group of kids.