The first song playing today is the English version of one sang by a group of Togolese believers on the morning we left for home. I will try to get the real video and audio of that moment on here at a later date. We were moved by these brothers and sisters in Christ and their open acceptance of all of us. They humbled us with their gratitude. Especially in the hospital setting, the staff was so thankful to have the team and their skills. Even outside the hospital and clinic, were all treated with such kindness and openness and gratitude. The missionaries, who we had hoped to encourage in some small way, ministered to us directly by their kindness and patience and indirectly by their example of steadfast service and gritty hard work. As we left, we found ourselves asking, how they could thank us when we were the ones leaving with hearts so full?
I could write a novel about the fifteen days we spent away from home, and I won't attempt to do that here. My journal from the trip is but a splash in the pond of our experiences, but I will share drops of it here over the coming weeks. The days were full, and the memories already spill into each other as I look back.
For now, as I already begin to fade as jetlag rears its ugly head, I will say that the thing for which I fervently prayed was granted by our awesome God. I asked that we would all return changed. We have. I asked that the experience would be positive for my boys. It was. I asked for safety and health and fun for our little ones with Grandpa and Grandma back home. All four did great! I asked that we would come home and not forget the ways God moved in us while we were there. He continues to move mightily. How awesome to know that the One who moved over the faces of the deep, the One who parted waters and felled armies, the One who raised the dead to life, is alive and moving in the hearts of our little family. I am humbled. We are blessed.