Holy Communion

February 22, 2008

We missed our opportunity to visit the King Jesus Orphanage yesterday, so we decided to say goodbye to the kids this morning. We had also decided that we would drop off our food supplies we had bought for them yesterday. I got to see my friend again; his name is still unknown to me but seeing his smile makes up for that. These children are stuck in a system that will probably never give them their full potential. The government here makes it very expensive and difficult to adopt one of these children, but if someone has a strong enough calling and enough determination, it is possible. I wish there was more that I could do right now for these kids, maybe someday I can do for them what they have already done for me. As we left the orphanage, I felt like crying but I held back and settled for some good hugs instead. As our bus pulled away I expressed the only words I knew how, to my friend I signed, I love you, Jesus loves you. I do not know what else I can say, my heart goes out, my eyes cry, and my soul longs to help, but the bus still pulls away.
Our next stop was back to the Cultural Center to stock up on Penny Project goods and finish our gift shopping. Afterwards we had some time at the hotel before dinner, only to find out that dinner wasn’t exactly ordered yet, so we would have to do dinner later than planned. Fortunately, Mrs. Gisila arrived at around 5 o’clock. Chatting with her gave some great insight into the SPANKO project and where it’s heading. She said that they have now started a German chapter (Gisila is a German native), and that people from all over were starting to get involved. The children in Ghana will benefit greatly. This relieved me as it seemed clear that this was a partnership we would love to continue. After dinner we parted ways with Gisila and we were headed to Rev. Twum’s church for some cultural dancing and a send off. The dancing was amazing, especially considering it was all performed by the youth of the church. They even had a skit on HIV/AIDS in Africa. Some of the people were laughing when, in one act, one of the men was expressing clear ignorance of the disease and did not want to touch the hand of his daughter. I may have laughed too, if I didn’t know how real that was. The First United Women had told stories very similar to the one being acted out. It’s real.
After the performance we went to the Twum’s parsonage. There, waiting, was a vision of Christ’s communion. We shared our love for one another and we gave gifts and drank orange Fanta. We expressed our gratitude and thanks for all of their work and partnership and they thanked us for coming into their lives. The communion table was set. It was a coffee table in a crowded living room. The members were from continents separated by a vast ocean, a people separated by language and color. As we held hands and prayed together, Christ was among us. The bread was our gifts, our thanks and our hearts for one another, and the wine was orange Fanta. God had never set a more perfect table. The vision for the future, for the world and for heaven can be seen expressed everyday here. I only hope that as we depart from our friends and loved ones here that we do justice to their stories and God’s story. This is what communion looks like, this is sacred, this is Holy.