One More Time.

February 24, 2014

We got up early this morning to leave walewale, and fly from Tamale to Accra. With a 15% battery, I listened to my "Amí" playlist on my phone (a collection of my favorite worship songs) as I watched the African sun rise over the planes and trees all from the inside of a van. Needless to say, a few tears were shed. As we drove away from Walewale, we passed by countless children on their way to school, men and women cooking and performing daily tasks, and it hurt. It hurt intensely as I listened to the international version of How Great Is Our God, and I cried. Shocker, right? I, Abigail Hackworth would cry as I left Africa. Who would have thought? Well, I did. Not because I have no answers to my questions regarding Africa and my future, or because I felt like I was leaving "home" or because I was dreading American society's return into my life. No, I cried because I love this land. These people.This dust. This dehydration and sweat. I love waving goodbye and hello to hundreds of men, women, and kids whose names I will never know. I don't care about hanging out with Brandon, Alex, Maggie, Jacob, Todd, Janet, and my mom every night. I don't care about being "popular" or not having to look presentable in the mornings. I just care about not being able to see and hear with blinding visibility God's love and creation everywhere I go. 
I am not writing this knowing in the back of my mind that I will ever be called to serve here. Or with any certainty that Africa is my "true calling". I was not overwhelmed with a calling from my Lord to return, or to ever work in a mission field anywhere near the continent again. I honestly couldn't care less about my "future home and calling" right now, or how God will get me there. I am not concerned with any of that. There is no burden or sting or even a thought or regret about what God is shaping me into right now and why. All that I know or am even concerned with is that I love this place and will miss it terribly. I am going to miss Gifted and Grace. I am going to miss the goats and Guinea Fowl, along with even their smell and obnoxious noise. I am going to miss His people here- the families smiling at me- laughing at my mispronunciations of typical greetings such as, "Dasuba" (good morning) in the middle of the afternoon. I'm just going to miss it. A lot. The jaw-dropping amazement that comes from every moment spent in this wonderful place. I miss everything already as I lay in bed in our "resort" at Cape Coast".
There is, however, a small contradiction to this grief. While I am in a heartbroken state over leaving my favorite place on earth, I am a bit happy to see all of my RRBC church family. Such contradiction and I really could not care less about it and am not even thinking about it. Below are the things I will miss about this place:
Sunrise, stars at night, "lion-king-trees", dancing in the baptist church, bagged water, enthusiasm of everything that is done, audibility of creation's praise to the Lord, plastic chairs and a glass bottle of coke in the middle of the day, overwhelming hospitality, dirt on my everything, kindness, laughter, gentleness, innocence, and the visibility of God's power.
Underlined are the things I would trade for anything I have in America. Do you get it now? I cried this morning because I know this amazing place will go on, but that it will be here, and I will be in America, not here.