nd he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatever he does shall prosper.  Psalm 1:3

My two trips to the East Mamprusi region of Ghana have been in February – the hot, dry dusty season when everything is brown and lifeless.  I have seen photos from others who have gone to the same villages in July and October showing lush, green fields as if they were in a totally different region.

While many of the villagers use the dry season as down time, others find creative ways to remain productive.  In several villages, once you figure out the lay of the land, it is not difficult to find a stream in a low area.  It may be near the village or it may be a mile or so away.

Usually, finding the steam, leads you to a place of intense activity.  The most interesting activity near the stream is the garden area.  Walled gardens hug close to the stream’s edge as a green oasis in the otherwise parched land.

Narrow paths separate neat garden rows of onions, tomatoes and leafy greens that provide luxurious treats and a source of income for the enterprising farmer.

The nearby stream is a lifeline for the farmer who is willing to work to keep his crops irrigated.

Even when we are in a dry and weary land, we have access to streams of living water.  The question is whether we are going to stay in the dusty village are venture to the water’s edge.  Have you found the stream?

On my last day in Zaremtenga, in the East Mamprusi region of Ghana, I was invited to join the old men’s after breakfast group.  I could speculate on way I was invited but I’m certain it was not because of any wisdom I could add to the group.

They specifically didn’t invite the young guys.  They didn’t invite our interpreter.  (That was my clue that conversation with me was not on their agenda.)

It was kind of like the men gathering at Hardee’s, or at Moss’ in Clarksville.  They each had a gourd of their morning brew to sip on as they discussed topics of the day.  I suspect it was very much like the gathering of men that happens pretty much anywhere in the world.

I suspect that their objective for inviting me was the laugh they enjoyed as they passed a gourd of brew for me to sip on.   They were all in anticipation of my reaction at my first sip.  I didn’t disappoint them.

I would liked to have been able to listen in to the conversation with understanding.  It would have been interesting to know what the wiser elders discuss as they gather in the cool of the morning.

But, I have to think about the gatherings I am involved in many mornings – at Starbucks, Arby’s, Lasaters, my office, and other places such as the one I had this morning.  I hope that the sessions I am involved in are God-honoring and positive rather than gripe sessions.  What is the discussion like when you sit down with brothers and sip on a gourd of your favorite brew?

With our air conditioning, water on tap and countless other conveniences we don’t even think about, it is difficult for us to understand springs of water in a dry and thirsty land.

In hot, dry, and dusty Ghana, springs of water are the lifeline of existence.

As we headed to the outer regions of the village one day, we moved on beyond the village to an area where the terrain fell away to what we soon discovered was a riverbed.  The river was a cool welcome relieve from the hot sun.  The area suddenly came alive with birds, butterflies, small creatures and lush green grass.

We wandered along the river until we came to a mango grove.  Unlike the occasional mango tree that provided a brief respite from the heat, this was a sudden haven from the sweltering sun.

Suddenly, the temperature dropped seemingly 20 degrees or more.  The air felt comfortable rather than hot and scorching.  Birds were everywhere.   We hung around in the grove for a while as Greg climbed one tree and then another.

Eventually, we left the oasis and headed back out into the harsh sun.  It seemed even more harsh after experiencing the blessing of the trees.

In our life, we need to find the occasional oasis.  We need to get out of the harsh sun of life and soak in the cool streams of living water and grace.  Have you been there lately?

We shy away from discussion of spiritual warfare in the United States, but Ghana is perhaps on the front line of spiritual warfare in a way we don’t want to acknowledge.

People in Ghana are torn between Christianity, spirit worship with the many African Traditional Religions and Muslim influence.  It is not uncommon for a Christian family to have some involvement in spirit worship.

It was my sister who made the very clear connection to spiritual warfare when my blog was hacked with some pretty ugly stuff while I was in Africa.  After I returned, I made a joking comment that the evil spirits had been exorcized from my blog.  The demons that possessed my blog infected my wife’s PC making it impossible for us to communicate by email.  And, the battery in my Mac crapped out due to my stupidity of leaving it on and unattended for nine days.

At about the time my blog was invaded by evil spirits at the hand of a clever hacker, I was dealing with a woman clearly on the battleground of the spiritual world.  It seemed clear to me that she was dealing with spiritual warfare.  She was a member of the church in Zaremtenga and was experiencing significant personal problems.  I asked her if spirit worship was going on in her house.  When she said it was, I offered an explanation of God’s requirement for undivided worship.  I encouraged her to remove the idols and altars from her house.

We encountered similar situations throughout the village.  It was not uncommon to enter a house and see an altar covered with fresh chicken feathers or a fresh goat skull hanging from the doorpost.

The spirit worship in the East Mamprusi region is obvious and easy to identify.  Our idol worship is not a blatant.  But, it is real.  We suffer much because of our idol worship.  Are their fresh chicken feathers on the altar at your door today?  How about a goat skull?  Probably not, but there are things that are just as repulsive.

It is somewhat interesting that we had Internet access in the village despite the generally primitive conditions.

Electricity just arrived in Zaremtenga and Namassam a few months ago.  Many other villages still do not have electricity.  Water is hauled by women and girls with 10-gallon buckets balanced on their head coming from boreholes throughout the village – most of which were provided by USAID, OPEC, Rotary International and other organizations.

Mud huts remain the almost exclusive construction method.  Most have thatch roofs although some now have rolled tin roofing.

Malaria remains a major problem and along with nutrition issues creates a high mortality rate especially among infants.

Living conditions are harsh and existence is meager.  But, pretty much throughout the East Mamprusi region, 3.5G network was available.  I could check headlines from my local newspaper, respond to emails from clients, and keep track of most things just as if I was sitting at my desk in Clarksville.

Most people see this as a question of priorities for the Ghanaian people.  I don’t know.  I don’t have enough information to make value judgments about decisions that led to providing Internet but not running water.

I do know that we make enough bad priority decisions on our own that we can’t cast aspersions at others’ decisions.

Either on a personal or national level, we probably make decisions that don’t make any more sense than developing 3.5G Internet before running water.

How about you?  Do your priorities make sense?

While in Africa, I had the opportunity to work with three tremendous young guys.  They were the best.  The four of us lived together in a mud hut room in a village for almost a week.

We had a lot of great times together and some interesting conversations throughout the nights.

As young guys will do, they loved to play around, goof off, explore, climb trees, climb rocks, chase crocodiles, and joke around.  But, when it was time to work, they worked.  Our work was sharing the gospel.  They did it.  We spent much of our days walking through the village talking with people about their faith, telling them about Jesus and answering their questions about following Jesus.

The guys had more opportunities to share the gospel in a week than most guys their age have in a year.

Greg, Ben, and Jonathan took turns presenting the gospel.  As we moved through the first day, they each had the kinks worked out of their presentation.  They developed a smooth presentation.  They learned how to alter their presentation based on the situation.  They learned to answer questions and come up with appropriate biblical texts to back up their statements.

Along the way, they developed greater confidence in their own faith.  As they answered questions, they resolved some of their own questions.  During a few group Bible study sessions, we answered some of their deeper questions and addressed issues.

The guys became stronger in their faith during the week.  They gained confidence in their ability to present the gospel.  They had opportunities they will remember for a lifetime.  And, I’m certain that they now will be bolder witnesses in many other situations.

Now each of them has the experience and the potential to lead other teams back to villages in the future.  I’m proud to have had the opportunity to work with these guys.

Almost 20 years ago in Desert Storm I learned that we really don’t need as much stuff as we think we do.  Living out of a duffle bag for six months showed me that it was possible to live minimally.

When I went to Africa two years ago, I was struck by the contrast of how much stuff we thought we needed to have to survive compared with what the villagers had for daily existence.  Again, it should have been a lesson in materialism.

Going back to Africa, I encouraged our village group to backpack and keep stuff to a minimum.  We did a fairly good job.  Even so, as the four of us began to settle into the mud hut room where we were going to spend the next several days, our backpacks exploded to fill the room with stuff.

For our brief stay, we seemed to have more stuff in our room than our hosts had, and they were living there.  Knowing that we were Americans who needed stuff, our hosts had managed to acquire a small refrigerator on loan from the hospital to place in our room.  That wouldn’t have been possible on our visit two years ago because the village didn’t have electricity then.

Visits to villages in the East Mamprusi region of Ghana continue to show me how excessive our lifestyles are.  But still, I continue to collect more stuff that I really don’t need.

The villagers even showed us up on taking care of the stuff we do have.  Our interpreter wore a pair of French leather shoes that I would never consider in the dusty terrain.  The first morning, his shows were cleaned and polished.  At the end of the day, they were dusty and abused.  Each morning, he appeared with the same pair of shoes with not a hint of dust and a fresh layer of polish.  Nothing I had was even clean by the second day.

Do we really need all the stuff we have?  What is all the stuff we have doing for us?  What is it doing to us?  Perhaps we’d be a lot better off with less stuff.  Maybe we’d polish up the stuff we had more if we had less of it.

This is only an observation.  It is not a commitment on my part to get rid of stuff.  I’m still an actively contributing member of the American economic machine.

As I left Namassam in the East Mamprusi region of Ghana two years ago, one of the things that concerned me was the potential impact of the pending arrival of electricity to the village.

Last week, I got a glimpse of the answer as I spend four days in the neighboring village of Zaremtenga, a mile away from Namassam.  The two cities got electricity about eight months earlier.

Now, every house has a single CFL bulb hanging from a wire in the center of each room with other CFL bulbs attached to the wall outside.  I assume this basic service was offered as part of a government project.

Many houses have radios and a few have small televisions.   There seem to be a few refrigerators but I didn’t see any other appliances.  My suspicion is that they can’t afford appliances and are far more familiar with their open-fire cooking techniques.

My initial impression of electricity in the village based on my limited observation is not positive.

The villagers used to close down at sunset.  Now, some continue on into the night.  Evenings previously could be enjoyed as quiet and peaceful.  Now, they are invaded with blaring music of various styles from nearby compounds.  Family time now involves sitting in front of a small television screen for some families.

Progress may bring an improved lifestyle but not necessarily a better lifestyle.  Sometimes, we have to take control and determine how we will embrace progress.  What is progress doing to your family?  What are you doing to shape the impact on your family?

While in the village of Zaremtenga in the East Mamprusi Region of Ghana, our interpreter took us to a house that was starkly different from all the others.  He identified it as the former chief’s house.

The house was built with rocks and mortar as a contrast to the mud huts throughout the village.  While a few mud huts had tin roofs instead of thatch roofs, this house had tin roofs with well-defined hip rooflines.

As we entered the courtyard, our interpreter pointed out a grave crypt that was not uncommon for village courtyards but this one was significantly larger and included an uncharacteristic headstone.  The headstone indicated two bodies in the crypt.  One was an earlier village chief who, according to the marker, was a veteran of World War II.  The second was his son who, again according to the marker, was the first literate chief of the village and serve as chief for 43 years.

Our interpreter took us on through the house complex pointing out the obvious rundown condition.  He showed us the rows of rooms were the chief’s 17 wives had lived and pointed out that he had 62 children.  He explained that after the chief died several years ago, his sons were unable to maintain the house.  Sons eventually moved away and took their mothers to care for them elsewhere.

One elderly man and his family lived in the ruins of the house and was a descendent of the former chief.  Even though no one was able to maintain the house or contribute to its repairs and upkeep, the village had committed to keeping the house intact as a tribute to the chief.

Almost as a side note, our interpreter explained that the former chief had established the court system and jail in the nearby regional center of Nelarigu.

There were two chiefs in succession from the family but apparently a third generation was unable to assume the mantle.  Political dynasties, small and large, all end – some sooner, others later.

After the chief died, the family that included his 17 wives was unable to maintain cohesion or have the financial means to maintain the house so they scattered.

The judicial system that the chief established was his lasting legacy.  It represents a significant change in the tribal rule that still is prominent in the region.

Many of the things we work hard to maintain will not be sustained when we are gone.  What lasting legacy are you cultivating now?

I encountered the stark reality of our prejudiced value judgments while in Zaremtenga, in the East Mamprusi region of Ghana.

We were going there to share the gospel.  I’ll admit I’m no theological giant or biblical scholar.  But, surely I’d be the biblical authority in a small village of mud house dwellers where education has been formalized for not too many years.

Our interpreter was a member of the family we were staying with.  We learned later that he really didn’t live in the village but was staying there for a few months with his family.

He was a great guy with a winsome personality.  He English skills were more than adequate.  He knew the people in the village.  He was well acquainted with the Baptist church in the village.

As we walked to a nearby village one day, we had plenty of time to talk.  Discussion of various denominations that had established works in the area led to questions about the differences in denominations.  Our interpreter suggested that we spend time after lunch doing a doctrinal study.  Sitting under a tree after lunch rather than walking in the 100-degree heat with the sun bearing down sounded like a pretty good plan.

He chose first to enter into a discussion on salvation.  It became clear I wasn’t the biblical scholar in the group.  This dude who had grown up in a small village with no running water, no electricity and, when he was growing up, no formal education system, knew his Bible stuff.

He launched into an amazing discussion of salvation.  He presented perhaps the clearest presentation of the gospel I have ever heard.  What was even more amazing about it was that his did it with very little reference to the New Testament.  He started in Genesis, landed in Isaiah and dug into Ezekiel.  By the time he was done, the birth, death and resurrection of Christ as atonement for sin was clearly a logical development of God’s plan from the beginning.

As a sat under the tree, I was blessed with his presentation, I enjoyed the light breeze, and I was humbled for my arrogance.  We often make pretty bad value judgments about people based on prejudices.  Who are you misjudging?