One of the brightest moments last week came Friday when four of the volunteers that have been staying in a different city came back to Accra. It was a wonderful reunion, but it was also shortlived because it was also one of the volunteers' last day. She has been serving in Ghana for five months, and she's starting medical school in Syracuse this fall. Although I only spent a couple weeks with her, she'll be somebody I look up to forever. She's one of those people that never seeks attention, interrupts, or complains, and she's also very good at listening, observing, and working hard. As we were packing up glasses and medication after a long day in the sun, I asked her what advice she had for me. She said, "First, always be kinder (to others and yourself) than you really need to be. Second, be wary of being confident in something you feel you're proficient doing." The second piece of advice seemed to be a warning because of some events that happened the very next day (I'll share about that in a bit), and the first of her suggestions is something that I haven't been able to stop thinking about.
For me, it is easy to go around striving to live a good, wholesome, positive life each and every day, but especially in my relationships with those I'm closest to, I rarely try to be kinder. Once somebody knows that I love them, I become complacent with being kind (and on some occasions, rude). When I think of becoming more kind, I usually conjure up images of loving strangers, my "enemies", and those I don't have a strong relationship with yet. Although it's important to be kind to strangers so that I can foster new relationships, I want to be more kind to those that mean the most to me. I love picking up cute toddlers while I'm sweating buckets just to swing them around and see them laugh. I live for making an old aunty smile when I try to grunt out, "You're beautiful!" in Twi as she walks up to us to get her eyes screened. But I know I can do better when I call my parents late at night, sounding tired and annoyed, as if I'm just calling out of duty. I will be more kind than I need to be from this point forward!
Back to the second piece of advice-don't assume competence in just about anything. I know she didn't say exactly those words, but I was humbled a lot on Saturday, and I realized a lot of pride during the outreach today, too. Saturday, all eight volunteers still in Accra woke up early, jumped in an Uber, and cruised to a nearby town where we rented some mountain bikes. We paid a guide some money, and we embarked on a 40 km (25 mile) bike ride straight through the jungle. It started off quite easy and enjoyable. We were on paved roads, I was singing at the top of my lungs, the wind was cooling off my sweaty armpits, and I was bursting with joy. Even after we had our first hill climb, I was all smiles and looked forward to the rest of the ride. Four hours later, I was sunburned, out of water, grumpy, frustrated, and I had no idea when we were going to be finished. It wasn't so much that I was physically exhausted, but a lot of my fellow volunteers hadn't ridden bikes in years, and we all started facing mental challenges in the hot Ghanaian sun. After wallowing in despair for a few minutes, I simpy looked up and started singing again. People around me began laughing, yelling at me to stop, and struggled to stifle smiles underneath their joking insults about my incredible voice (I'm a horrrrible singer). Immediately, the burden of doubt, fatigue, and exhaustion was lifted. I was just happy to be in Ghana, outside in the sun, surrounded by people I loved. The views were amazing, and I had the opportunity to reach an incredible waterfall after biking through untouched jungle. It was a life-changing experience because I realized I cared more about maintaining perspective, supporting/lifting those around me, and enjoying the journey more than I cared about sticking to the original plan of biking through as fast as possible to get to the waterfall. It sounds cliche, but the joy really is in the journey. I could not have cared less if there was a waterfall at the end of the ride because of all the great things I had already learned and experienced. I love the people I'm with, and I love Ghana!! I want to do better at squishing out the pride within me that says, "I am good at this...Don't wait for them...You don't need help...Nobody else understands..." in regards to my studies, conversations, exercise, academics, religion, etc.
In the middle of the afternoon today, I opened up a granola bar and started to snack. I was starving, and most of the time we hardly have time to say hi to the people in front of us, much less snarf something down while we work. I immediately felt the eyes of all the kids around me. The stares weren't unwelcome, but I felt like a deer in the headlights. For the first time, I noticed they weren't staring at me and my white skin-they were staring at my food. As I dropped my hand holding the granola bar from my mouth, chewing slowly, I just sat there feeling awkward, guilty, and even ashamed. I pulled whatever snacks I had left in my backpack and tried to discreetly hand them out without disturbing the flow of patients. The people I am privileged to work with and serve each day face seemingly insurmountable challenges, yet somehow, many of them are filled with faith, joy, and light. I may not struggle with the burden of hunger or destitution, nor would I wish that trial upon anybody, but I have my own trials/struggles, and it has been humbling to see that we all have control of certain things within our own spheres of influence.
In the Parable of the Talents, one of the servants was only entrusted with one talent while the master was away, and the other servants were entrusted with much more. Upon the return of the master, the servant entrusted with the smallest sum had "played it safe," and no interest or growth was made. On the other hand, the servants who were trusted with greater sums had reinvested the money and grew the original amount they were trusted with. They were profitable, while the servant who was given less simply held on to that smaller amount and waited. Sometimes, I get scared because I know I have been blessed abundantly and greatly. I have privileges most people could never even fathom. Most of all, I have been raised in a home centered upon the teachings of Jesus Christ. Even still, I find myself comparing myself to others back home and think, "If I was in their position, I would've done this... I could've done a lot more if I had been given that opportunity..." Today, I realized that it doesn't work that way. We must learn step-by-step, proving to ourselves, those around us, and the Lord that we are able to be trusted and willing to grow. I can't sit there, perhaps like the servant, and say, "I would've invested the money if I was given five talents, but I was only given one. That's why I just had to play it safe. I had no money to spare and no extra wiggle room." There are a million possible reasons for why I have certain trials and problems in my life, but I will never be able to say it's because I wasn't given enough. That is never an excuse for failure or hopelessness.
I loved reading this parable because it brought me back to the people I have met in the villages we have traveled to. They certainly don't have much when it comes to worldly standards, but it's easy to discern who has invested their talents and developed new skills/wisdom, increasing on the original gifts they were blessed with. The world is a completely unjust place, and that is more clear to me now than it ever has been before, but each one of us has the opportunity to grow within our sphere of influence. I have loved the past few days, and I'm excited for the experiences and lessons that surely lie in store the rest of the week. Keep smiling, serving, and loving, everybody!!
Trevor,
ReplyDeleteI am constantly impressed by your self-reflection and insights into simple truths. I have never known anyone with such humility and inner light. God bless you, young man.