Coming home is the worst part. I thought by now I'd be used to it, but I find myself still needing a few days to adjust. I'm pretty sure all I've done this weekend is eat, marvel at having clean feet, and stare into space. Part of that is the usual overwhelming trip to the grocery store that has too many choices on too many aisles, crossing the goat-less street without the fear of getting run over, and sleeping all night long without waking up at 4:00am for the morning prayer call by the Muslim mosque across the street. It's the little things. And the little moments when life "back home" is just too much. I have to ease back into things to preserve sanity.

But my heart has to adjust as well. It is full and desiring to live richly (not in a monetary sense) and seeking a deeper and stronger meaning that doesn't always line up with the life I find here. Somehow, my heart grows bigger with each trip to Ghana; and with each journey, I return to wrestle with the ways that life here needs to align more consistently.

My heart is bigger having spent time here:



Lake Volta never fails to give me chills. It is the life-source for so many people in Ghana; they wash their clothes and cars, bathe in, drink from, and cook with water from the lake. Having access to water – regardless of the filthiness of it – is everything. And yet, there is so much hurt and pain associated with it as well. Broken families, stolen childhoods, lost friends and loved ones in the water, never-ending work just to survive. I don't think it's an accident that it takes 1-2 hours by boat to get to the villages we are working in. We spend a significant amount of time out on the lake. It allows for the best contemplation and the best conversations about how we are trying to bring new life to an area that is so desperate for it.


My heart is bigger having spent time here:



Challenging Heights is one-of-a-kind. They are faithful in their pursuit of rehabilitating and empowering children and their families. I thought quite a bit this week about the fact that the staff waves goodbye to children just as soon as they say hello. It's a constant revolving door as groups of children come in and out. It is selfless work. The staff could not be more welcoming or wonderful, and they inspire me to be meaningful with my relationships and to spend my life in ways that matter – even more so when there's no return on the investment.


My heart is bigger having spent time with these guys:





Pure joy is seeing a child in slavery, rescued, reintegrated, and in school. It is recognition by them and being greeted by a hug. It is the pride in their eyes when we ask about their school uniforms. It is seeing shoes on their feet and hearing they ate a good breakfast that morning. It is seeing them pick up a pencil and write their name with pride – instead of picking a fish out of a net. It is knowing they will walk down to the lake to fill a bucket of water for their family – and not get in a fishing boat to paddle. This is joy.


More photos and stories to come, but suffice to say, it was a great trip!

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".