Here is an article Aidan wrote for a major Christian publication last year. The water for Sankpem has yet to be found, so we continue to raise money for it. You may donate here. On the pull down menu, click "fresh water: Ghana" to donate to this specific project.

Wells in Africa: My Dream

It was the happiest night of my life. Here I was at twelve years old, dancing with tribe members on the other side of the world. The drumbeats pounded in my chest. I felt the Lord’s presence like I’ve never felt before while I danced in a circle with my new Ghanaian friends. Together, we were dancing for Jesus while bugs the size of Oreos buzzed all around us. But that didn’t stop us from dancing.

This crazy adventure started a year before when my parents talked about the need for wells and water in Africa around the dinner table. When I started sixth grade, I decided to run for treasurer of my school. I had to write a speech and wanted to have something catchy in my speech. So I decided to use raising money to dig wells in Africa as my main point. But unfortunately, I lost the election.

I came home from school very sad. I told my mom what happened, and she thought I was sad because I lost the election. I stopped her and said, “Mom, it’s not that. Now I can’t raise money for wells in Africa. God has burned in my heart a desire to dig wells in Africa and I can’t get that out of my heart.”

That night, my parents were having dinner with our missions pastor. And he decided to open an account at church so I could raise money for wells on my own. Right after that, I had to decide which country in Africa I would help. Our church had well projects in two places: Nigeria and Ghana. I prayed about the decision and I chose Ghana.

Soon I found out that there was a village in Northern Ghana called Sankpem that desperately needed water. Almost every year, a woman died trying to get water for her family. I found out there was a team of people going to the same area of Ghana in the summer. So my mom and I raised money to go to Ghana with the team. And I also raised money to complete the well project in Sankpem.

While we were waiting to go, I got two discouraging emails about the well project. The well-digging company drilled once, but did not hit water. They tried again, and still didn’t hit water. Despite all that, I still wanted to visit Sankpem for myself.

In June of 2008, we flew to Ghana. We started out in a town in Northern Ghana called Tamale. Every day, I went out with my translator, Emmanuel, into the slums near a seminary and shared about Jesus with the people. I told them the story about God creating the world all the way through to Jesus’ death and resurrection. I got to see a lot of Muslims come to faith in Jesus. Before I went to Ghana, I prayed one person would meet Jesus. And here I was seeing several people come to Him.

Later during the trip, I got to see Sankpem. About 1,000 people live in Sankpem, and about twenty adults attend church there. I saw little children playing in the fields, and I watched as a lady walked past us, a huge jar of water on her head. I stood on the two places where they tried to dig wells. The ground was all dry rock, no water. The village elder told us, “We’re very sorry that you spent all that money and we still didn’t get water. If we had hit water, we’d be having celebrations right now.” We prayed that one day Sankpem would have water in their village.

I hope that a pipeline can be made from Sankpem’s nearest village neighbor about ten kilometers away. I’m raising money for that (cost approximately $10,000) and for a rainwater capturing system for the village. Next year, when I go to Sankpem, I pray the village elder will be holding a huge celebration because water has come to Sankpem.

This trip has changed me in many ways. I don’t take the water that comes out of my faucet at home for granted. I’m not as much of a consumer as I used to be. I now have many friends on the other side of the world that taught me how to truly follow Jesus and trust Him for everything. One of my friends said that for ten years he never knew when his next meal was coming, but he learned to trust God. I want to have that kind of faith in God, not in stuff.

I never knew that at the beginning of my sixth grade year that God would take me from a failed election to where I am now. Losing the election was probably the best thing that happened in my life. I will never be the same.

What I’d love to see is a bunch of young people like myself to begin to dream bigger dreams, dreams that only God can give, dreams that only He can bring about. My dream is to bring water to a village on the other side of the world. What is your dream?

With the holidays fast approaching, a dirge of dread seeps into me, though “Jingle Bells” is already haunting my local supermarket. I ask myself questions you probably ask yourself:

• Will I run ragged this holiday season?
• Will I spend too much?
• Will I miss out on important moments with my kids in my busyness?
• Will I battle regret after it’s all said and done?

There’s got to be a better way to shepherd my family through the holidays—to be able to slow down enough to enjoy each other and not get caught up in the rat race of preparation and money-frenzied spending. Here are five easy ways:

Dashing Through the Web

Take advantage of the Internet now while the holidays are still a ways away. Use your breaks strategically to shop for friends, co-workers or family members. Have online stores shipped directly to you, or to your relatives far, far away. Opt for gift-wrapping to save even more time. Worried about your privacy information? Make sure there’s a little lock icon that pops up on the Internet store you’re shopping on. Or become very familiar with one particular store you trust.
Last year, we moved from France to the United States in mid-December. What saved me hours and hours of work and shopping and preparation was ordering presents off the Internet. The kids loved their gifts, and I loved the freedom online shopping allowed me as I busied myself with moving details.

In an Open Minded Way

Simplifying the holidays comes down to our ability to rethink them in an open-minded, level headed way. Ask yourself and your family these questions, and dare to answer them honestly:
• Do we really need to buy a present for each of the people we bought for last year?
• What would happen if we chose to fast media for the month of December?
• Will it be a good use of my time to write all my Christmas cards?
• What would it look like if I limited my cooking and baking?
• What would our holidays feel like if we spent more time at home, less time in programs, pageants or shopping?
• If we could design the perfect day of celebrating the holidays, what would it look like?
• What three activities would we really miss if we didn’t do them? Can we choose to pare down everything in favor of these three activities?
• How can we donate our time, talent or treasures this Christmas in a way that brings our family together?

O’er the Fields We Go

One of the great losses families have experienced over the last several years is a connection with the outdoors. We’ve cocooned ourselves from the natural world. This holiday season, instead of staking claim to a mall or a discount big box store, find adventure outside. Take walks in holiday-themed neighborhoods. Go ice skating. Sing Christmas carols to your neighbors. Hike through a nature trail. Feed the ducks at a local lake. You’ll not only gain much needed, stress-busting exercise, but you’ll also bond as a family as you experience God’s creation together.

Laughing all the Way

The holidays can be a convoluted, painful time, with expectations aplenty and reminders of the past. For the sake of your kids, dare to create new memories on the shoulders of painful ones. Rent funny holiday movies. Play games. Construct a puzzle together. Play charades with another family. Determine to spend less money and more time. Give yourself permission to relax. Choose to see December as a Sabbath month instead of a hectic one, realizing family closeness and laughter often comes in unplanned moments.

Making Spirits Bright

Helping others during the holidays is a great way to simplify and slow down your pace. It helps focus you and your family on the needs of others. A really cool option is to click on www.worldvision.org. Go to their gift catalog page. Here you and your family can mutually decide how you’d love to bless the needy this Christmas. Give a goat to a needy village. Send funds to dig a well for a village with no water source. Supply lunch for school children. This is one way to give a gift that will actually be used, and will help your children see the needs beyond their front door.

Simplifying the holidays is doable. Dare to take back your holidays this year. You’ll gain time, energy, fellowship, and peace—all things a family desperately needs this time of year.

I had the privilege of reading a remarkable book this week: Stone Crossings: Finding Grace in Hard and Hidden Places by L. L. Barkat.

In many ways, Barkat spoke to my heart (or rather, the Holy Spirit, through her pen, whispered some lifechanging words.) Consider this:


I resonate with her struggle. I, too, seem to prefer the spectacular to the mundane. But as this season of Advent meanders (or rushes, depending on how you look at it), I can't stop thinking about God as a Child, a Baby.

He reconfigured His majesty in the womb of a peasant. He stooped lower than we'll ever stoop. He, the Rock of Ages, became, in the quarry of His own making, a pebble, good for paths underfoot.

While I dream of doing big things for God, I forget the pebble, the humility, the stark reality of God becoming Child. In the greatest reversal of history, God traded opulence for ordinariness--for the sake of us who walk with Him underfoot.

In that musing, I revisit Barkat's words. Perhaps worshiping the Baby in a Manger has more to do with loving folks in ordinary, pedestrian ways. Of lowering ourselves enough to see who it is He places before us. If God so lowered Himself to relate and commune with us, shouldn't we follow in His footsteps? To stoop? To empty? To open our eyes to the divine possibilities in our daily lives?

Lord, forgive us for trying to be grandiose. For forgetting the humility You portrayed by emptying Yourself of accolades. What a holy risk You took by becoming a pebble--and what a risk! We, who trample You underfoot, ask Your forgiveness. Help us today to honor Your transformation by becoming part of Your redemptive plan. By loving those You place in our lives in quiet, unheralded moments. Help us to pick up a pebble today and consider what You've done. Help the weight of it in our pockets remind us to walk humbly and simply with You, being attuned to Your whispers, no matter what they say. Amen.

***

If you're looking for a contemplative, beautifully written book, I'd encourage you to pick up a copy or five (great for Christmas gifts!).

This morning while jogging, I listened to the song, "Fireflies" by Owl City where one of the lines says, "I'd like to make myself believe that planet earth turns slowly." As I heard those words, I thought of the brevity of life, of how quickly my kids are growing up, becoming amazing adults.

The next moment, I noticed a fire hydrant that looked like it'd been used recently. Oddly, sand surrounded it, and in the sand sat four Thomas the Tank Engine characters, climbing the sand toward the hydrant.

Instantly I remembered.

My son Aidan used to love Thomas, used to sleep with a wooden Thomas the size of a shoe box. He spent his days creating new tracks, discovering new stories, new choo-choo horizons. Wasn't it yesterday? Didn't I just blink, and Aidan grew to six foot two (or is it three now?). He loves Jesus. He has a heart for the poor. He thinks it's crazy that folks focus more on getting things when Jesus' birth comes around this time of year. He's gifted at the trombone. He loves his family.

This earth turns slowly for some, too fast for others. But today as I jogged by the bygones of Aidan's toddlerhood, I felt a strange mix of nostalgia and pride. My little boy charts new courses while the world beneath my feet rushes by.

I'm so excited to be able to attend the Third Lausanne Congress on World Evangelization next October 16--25 in Cape Town South Africa, as one of 400 American delegates. I'll need to raise over $4000.00 to get there. So I decided to combine my love of photography with my need to raise support. Here's how it works:

I spend an hour with you or your family (or your child) and take a bucket load of photos. I clean up the photos, enhance them, and then give you a disc to print them however you please. They will be high dpi Jpeg files. Then you can choose to donate money toward my trip in whatever way God leads you. But you'll get senior pictures, prom pictures, family pictures for a fraction of what they'd cost you. A win-win all around. Below are some samples of my work.

So I'm in the grocery store today, facing an internal battle. It went something like this:

My brain: "Mary, it would be fun to buy dryer sheets, make your clothes soft and smell nice."

My neurosis: "No. That costs too much money and it's entirely unnecessary. Don't you know it's time to pinch pennies, not spend money on frivolity."

My brain: "But, um, you haven't ever bought dryer sheets, for as long as I've known you."

My neurosis: "Precisely. Because they're not important."

My brain: "But today you thought it might be nice to try them."

My neurosis: "I know, but I don't deserve them. I don't deserve to buy nice things for myself."

My brain: "Aha! Now I see what the real issue is. You have a worth problem."

My neurosis: "You sound like my husband."

My brain: "Mary, I give you permission to buy dryer sheets."

So, reluctantly, I steered my cart full of store brand things (I don't deserve name brands, mind you; plus, they cost more) down the laundry aisle. I chose the cheapest possible dryer sheets, smelled each scent, opting for Winter (makes sense, right?). I placed them in my cart, feeling naughty and rich and like I'd gotten away with something--which I had.

I paid the $2.39 for the dryer sheets, coddled them home, and threw one in my spinning dryer. And when I smell my softened clothes, I'll feel many things at once:

• Joy that I finally gave myself permission.
• Chastisement that I splurged.
• Happiness for better smelling clothes.
• A hint of feeling like maybe I'm worth dryer sheets after all.

So there you have insight into my neurosis. Am I alone? Do you fret over these things? When I shop for clothes, I always buy on sale or second hand because I don't feel I deserve to pay full price (which, of course, is mixed in with my utter frugality). Do you struggle with this?

Signed: Dryer-Sheet-full in Texas

Lord, You say not to be anxious, but I personify anxiety.

You beckon me to cast my cares, but I hold them to me like cherished memories.

You tell me to rest, but I busy myself in absent-minded worry.

You made the world, the grass, the trees, the air, the leaves.

And I string words together, trying to capture Your creativity.

Maybe it's that You want me to sit beneath a tree.

To marvel at Your world, to feel the grass, to breathe in autumn.

Maybe it's that You renew me when I stop striving for personal rejuvenation.

Maybe it's enough to slow down enough to hear Your peace.

God speaks to me when I run.

Today, chilled to the fingers, I ran toward the lake, my mind wandering. Something shiny and bright caught my eye. Caught in the overhead telephone line was the shredded remains of a kite. It couldn't get free, the tangles getting the best of it. But just as I looked skyward to see the imprisoned kite again, a flock of birds, flying in V formation, soared overhead.

In that moment, I knew.

Sometimes (a lot of times, if I'm willing to admit it), I am caught halfway between earth and heaven, imprisoned by something that looks an awful lot like shame. I am not alive where I'm caught. And yet, living creatures built to fly soar above me.

Those birds are what God intends me to be. He never intended His children to become so entangled by shame and pain that they cease to live. That they give up and hang on a wire while others fly on the wind. He made us to fly.

Oh dear Jesus. I want to fly. I'm tired of being tethered. Tired of the strings of shame wrapping themselves around me, choking me. Oh dear Jesus, make me a bird. Make me fly. Free me from whatever others have done that have shackled me to the wire. Free me from what I have done to myself and others that have kept me captive. I want to fly. So high. So long. To soar with You as my elevation. Raise me. Resurrect me. Make me alive. I love You. More than the wire. More than the tangles. More than the shame. More than the pain. Free me to fly, Jesus. Amen.

I had two dreams butted up next to each other, kind of like commercials do these days where they do two spots for the same product, but run them concurrently.

Dream one: I needed to help my youngest with something. I can't remember what it was, since that's the nature of dreams, but I do know it was important. Only problem? I had a ten-inch long cut in my calf. It was deep. You could see the sinews and blood, all the way down to the bone. And I could clearly see infection (it was green goo), spreading throughout. I couldn't help my daughter. I couldn't even help myself.

Dream two: My three children needed me to go on an excursion with them. I tried to follow them, but I realized I couldn't get into my wheelchair (weird, of course, because I can walk just fine). I tried to get in, but it kept rolling away.

I woke up with a strong sense that these two dreams meant something. What if I am way too injured to love my kids, to interact? To walk alongside them?

I sense God doing more breaking in me, more surgery, but I also sense attack coming. (Someone cut my leg. Something outside of me caused infection. Someone kept the wheelchair away from me.)

So please pray for me. Pray for protection for me, my family, my heart. Pray I'd be secure in Jesus, strong in Him, resting in His unending, perfect, amazing love. Sometimes I'd like to think myself strong, but really I'm just needy. Attack hurts, whatever form it takes. My heart, though, is to weather any trial well, and in the process, love my family through it.

I had a good talk with a friend recently. She's an author, and we were talking about the load we bear. She said something like, "I try to limit my time online so that I can spend actual time with the physical people in my life--face to face."

Her words touched me, wormed their way into my heart. I fear I spend too much time with cyber friends than actual friends. That I minister via email more than bringing food, or praying in person. Of course it didn't always used to be that way.

Part of it is marketing my books. I work hard at creating an online presence here for the purpose of marketing. And since I'm here, I field a lot of emails and communications with lots of folks. I pray that my interactions in cyberspace are encouraging to others. But even so, it's not a substitute for loving others who are directly in front of me.

Do you struggle with a virtual life versus a real, human life? What do you do to connect better with people? Unplug? Take a walk with friends? Stop?

I want to make an eternal impact on this earth. Is that even possible on the internet? Have I been duped to think that ministering online is some sort of substitute for ministering in person? I don't have the answers, just lots of questions.

"Samuel said, 'Why then did you not obey the voice of the Lord, but rushed upon the spoil and did what was evil in the sight of the Lord?'

Then Saul said to Samuel, 'I did obey the voice of the Lord, and went on the mission on which the Lord sent me . . . " (1 Samuel 15: 19-20).

I read this passage with holy trepidation. What if I am Saul? What if I value the spoils more than the Lord? What if I chase after that which satisfies in the moment and miss obeying the voice of the Lord. As a writer, there are many times I face temptation. Times when I could write a certain book I know would sell (but wouldn't be "me"). Or times I could take a writing job for the prestige. Or times I simply manage my own career, taking jobs without first listening to the voice of God.

And, like Saul, I can be self-deceived. I can think, Hey, I'm writing Christian books, so I am on the mission on which the Lord sent me. And yet, I can be just as deceived in that thinking as Saul was when he didn't fully obey God's instructions during war time.

The voice of the Lord should be my strong tower. It should lead me. Guide me. And, truly, I want to heed it. But as I progress in my "career," the stress of it all caves around me. The voices out there holler, drowning out God's clear guidance.

And I reach for that which will temporarily satisfy.

Lord, I pray You'd make me a David writer. One who fails, yes, but then runs full speed into Your arms, to hear Your voice. I don't want to listen to the clamoring noise around me. I don't want to take on projects out of greed, or fear, or pride. I want to hear Your voice, to value it above my own ambitions. Teach me humility, Jesus. I lay my career in Your capable hands right now. Take me. Take my words. Do with them what You will.

This book was provided for review by the Litfuse Publicity Group.

Cool thing:

I met Mike when we lived in France. He and his family came over for dinner. Later in our time in France, he invited our family to dine at his place in the Swiss Alps. So much fun!

Tricia and I met at a writers conference. This year we had the privilege of rooming together at Mount Hermon. So much fun!

Put these two amazing folks together, and you get a really good read.

My review:

What I love about The Swiss Courier is its gutsy heroine Gabi. Willing to take risks for the higher good, yet vulnerable—Gabi is a wonderful portrayal of the tender strength of womanhood. Add that to a twisting plot, the raging of World War II, and kindling love and you have an enjoyable read.

BUY THE BOOK here.

About the book!

It is August 1944 and the Gestapo is mercilessly rounding up suspected enemies of the Third Reich. When Joseph Engel, a German physicist working on the atomic bomb, finds that he is actually a Jew, adopted by Christian parents, he must flee for his life to neutral Switzerland. Gabi Mueller is a young Swiss-American woman working for the newly formed American Office of Strategic Services (the forerunner to the CIA) close to Nazi Germany. When she is asked to risk her life to safely "courier" Engel out of Germany, the fate of the world rests in her hands. If she can lead him to safety, she can keep the Germans from developing nuclear capabilities. But in a time of traitors and uncertainty, whom can she trust along the way? This fast-paced, suspenseful novel takes readers along treacherous twists and turns during a fascinating--and deadly--time in history.

About the authors:

Tricia Goyer is the author of several books, including Night Song and Dawn of a Thousand Nights, both past winners of the ACFW's Book of the Year Award for Long Historical Romance. Goyer lives with her family in Montana. To find out more visit her website: www.triciagoyer.com

Mike Yorkey is the author or coauthor of dozens of books, including the bestselling Every Man's Battle series. Married to a Swiss native, Yorkey lived in Switzerland for 18 months. He and his family currently reside in California.To find out more visit his website: www.MikeYorkey.com

Please leave a comment if you'd like a chance to win the book. (My able assistant--one of my kids--will draw names).

I met him the other day, my character Hixon. He weighed a little more than I expected, but his face, his eyes--this was him.

He made eye contact. He served. He smiled, but not overly so. His position seemed lowly, but I envisioned his influence in his place of work.

I touched his elbow, to garner attention for a second. "Thank you for serving us," I told him. "I appreciate it."

He smiled, as Hixons are apt to do. "Thanks," he said.

Leaving Hixon that day, I realized something about my existence lately. I've been awfully isolated behind this desk, quite insulated from Hixons and Muriels and Emorys. I've not muddied myself in relationships, a bit overwhelmed at time pressures. But meeting "Hixon" made me want to embrace all folks, wherever I find them along my day. To get out of my house to see other people God created in His image. To love well. To risk loss.

We received this in our mailbox today.

Background: My husband sits on the back porch with our dog for an hour each night (around 7:00 PM). He does bark as people walk by, but it's during the time most people wouldn't be bothered. Pippin is NEVER left outside. He sits inside with me.

So this is what our anonymous neighbor sent:

The city has an animal noise ordinance. Sec. 5-21 states: "It shall be considered unlawful and a public nuisance to keep any animals which, by causing frequent or long continued barking or noise shall disturb any persons of ordinary sensibilities in the vicinities."

You leave your barking dog out to yap at every car that goes by. And you just sit out there watching it bark. Regardless, there is an Ordinance. My next step is to lodge a formal complaint with the city, after which you will begin to receive citations and fines, increasing each time I submit a complaint. Your dog--your problem.

An angry neighbor.

******
I'm back.

Here's the thing. Are we so litigious these days that we can't walk over to someone's house and say, "Hey, it bugs me when your dog barks. Let's talk about this." Instead we have to threaten? Anonymously?

If we had a dog who stayed outside all day and night that barked incessantly, this would make sense to me. But it doesn't. And having a "neighbor" go at this in this manner just makes me sad and frustrated. To put an anonymous note in my mailbox is cowardly and mean spirited.

If my neighbor is reading this: Why can't we simply talk about this over the fence?