Smooth Roads, Slave Castles, and a Very Long Way Home

We were creeping along the road to Agona Nkwanta when we ran into a wall of people dancing right down the middle of it, hundreds of them, loud and joyful, moving like a parade with no beginning and no end in sight. We had no idea what they were celebrating. We just slowed the van down and let them have the road.

That road to Agona Nkwanta has been rough the last several trips. Between construction and roads that badly need it, the drive has taken up to three hours before, and I have made that trip twice in local taxis with no air conditioning. By the time I got home, I was as red as the roads themselves. This time we rode in Bro. Ruckman's new van, and the construction is nearly finished. Forty-five minutes, start to finish. It was smooth enough that I could have forgotten we were in Ghana at all, jubilation crowd aside.

We arrived early for church since we had planned for bad roads that never showed up. It was a good chance to welcome people and see the work the church folks have been doing. Bro. Ruckman raised the money for the land and the building, and Pastor Fred and his wife have painted the place and made it feel warm and welcoming. They are also building a wall around the compound to protect their land, and they started a school at the church that they are building one block at a time, paid for out of the school fees their own students bring in. It is a good thing to watch a church take ownership of its own ministry like that.

While we were in Agona Nkwanta, Laura and Mrs. Angie went to Mt. Calvary Fundamental Baptist Church in Ntankoful. Mrs. Tayo taught the ladies' Sunday school class, working through an in-depth Bible study with plenty of room for questions. Everyone starts the morning service together in the auditorium before the children are dismissed to junior church after the song service, and Mrs. Angie taught one of those classes. Bro. Tayo preached that morning. Laura and Mrs. Angie went home for lunch and a short rest before the evening service, where Bro. Arhin preached, and Mrs. Angie taught the children and younger teens again. After church, they headed home to get homemade pizza going for supper.

Bro. Ruckman, Bro. Reno, and I drove back from Agona Nkwanta in time for lunch with the ladies, took a short rest, and then headed to Shama for the evening service. The roads to Shama are rough, but traffic was light, and we made good time. We got there early enough to take Bro. Reno through the Shama Slave Castle, one of the smaller castles in Ghana but every bit as interesting as the larger ones. Our tour guide knew the history of his country inside and out, and I enjoyed every minute of his presentation. The man buried in the graveyard there, Anton Wilhelm Amo, is generally recognized as the first African known to attend and teach at a European university. It is a remarkable story for a small coastal town to hold onto.

We went straight to church after the tour, and I got to preach that evening. Bro. Reno had already preached the morning service back in Agona Nkwanta, so between the two of us we covered both ends of the day. Pastor Augustine, one of the Ghanaian pastors working hard to reach his own people, preached alongside the rest of us. He has walked through some genuinely difficult seasons in life and kept right on going for the Lord. I am proud to call him my friend.

We got back to the Ruckmans' house to a wonderful meal the ladies had prepared, and the Kenneys came over to join us. Everybody was worn out by that point, and you could hear it in how relaxed the conversation got. I laughed until I could barely catch my breath. Laughter really does do a body good.

We went to bed late that night and got up early the next morning to catch our flight home. We left the house at 5:45 and were wheels up out of Takoradi by 7:40, landing in Accra by 8:30, where Pastor Prince picked us up and took us to breakfast. Bro. Reno picked up the check, which was a blessing after a long few days. We made one more stop at a souvenir market, though my favorite one had closed since our last visit, which was harder to take than I expected. I had a lot of friends there over the years.

We said our goodbyes to Pastor Prince at the airport and checked in for the international flight. We left Accra at 6 p.m. for Dubai on an older plane with uncomfortable seats and half the bathrooms out of order, but everyone was too tired to notice much. The whole plane slept the entire flight, which suited me fine since I got the aisles mostly to myself for a walk.

In the Dubai airport, waiting to board for Houston, an eight-year-old girl leaned over my shoulder to look at photos on my phone, smacking her gum the whole time. She about wore me out. I was relieved when we finally got seated and she was nowhere near us. Her little sister, maybe three years old, was playing nearby, and when she said something to her big sister in a language I did not understand, I could read her attitude just fine. Then she turned around and gave me a one-finger wave. I sat there in complete shock.

The flight to Houston ran seventeen and a half hours after a long wait in line for takeoff, but it was smooth the whole way with no turbulence, and I was more than ready to land by the end of it. Our luggage came quickly, the shuttle was right on time, and we touched down in Houston at 5:30 in the afternoon. I was asleep in my own bed by 9:30 that night.

Thank you for praying for us on this trip. God did some amazing things over these ten days, and we are already looking forward to getting back to work raising the support we need to return to the field for good. You can follow along with everything ahead of us at consfords.com/connect.