Day walker.

I remember a place we drove through on my trip to Ghana when I was in college. We were coming back from a night service and we passed through a village where they didn't have electricity yet. It was pitch black and most of the villagers had already gone inside their houses. A few people still walked around in the dark, because their eyes were used to it, I suppose. The darkness gave me this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feared the people walking around, they seemed cold, distant, and up to no good. I realized that I had never seen a place without any lights whatsoever, and I didn't like the feeling. I breathed a sigh of relief when we rolled through to the next town that had electricity.



The next night we drove to another village to do ministry. We began to set up our portable stage and we walked around inviting people to come out. Some of the men in the village were intimidating. They stared at us "obronis" (white people) as we traipsed through their dusty streets. Right before we started the service, it began to rain. When it rains in Ghana, it most definitely pours. The red dirt roads quickly turned to pure mud and our vans were stuck. The wheels spun furiously as the driver tried to drive out. The rest of our team had found a dry spot under a small wooden shelter that stood in the middle of the village. Children from all over piled under with us. We led them in songs until our voices cracked. It began to get dark, and I realized that this was another village without electricity. We stood there in the pitch black, playing with the kids, trying to conserve our flashlights for a more opportune time. When the rains finally stopped, Dr. White decided that we should all try to push the vans out of the mud. We all pushed and slid and slopped until we became red mud monsters. Many of the men from the village (probably the same ones who had intimidated me earlier in the evening) came out of their homes and helped us push. We were all laughing and screaming...Obronis and Ghanaians alike. We succeeded in getting the vans out and as we drove back to Pastor Sammy's house, I felt a warmth in my heart as I saw how darkness can be so deceiving. There is no where I can go, not even a pitch black village in the middle of nowhere, that God is not there, that Love is not there. People are just people after all.



Fast forward to the fall of that year. I was driving back to TFC one night after spending a weekend at home. There isn't much light on the highways late at night as you get closer to Toccoa. I missed my turn and ended up in a tiny little community called Rabun Gap. I turned around and headed back to try and find my road, but I couldn't find it because it was so dark. The gas station that I usually used as my landmark of where to turn was closed and blended into the night. I think I took a wrong turn and ended up on another unfamiliar highway. I was already not thrilled with my time in Toccoa and this was just the last straw to my already emotional state. I think this night was probably the lowest of my low point. I felt completely and utterly lonely and abandoned. Tears streaming down my eyes, I turned around yet again. Much to my dismay, I saw red and blue lights in my rearview mirror. I didn't think I was speeding. Why would this cop be pulling me over? As I stopped my car, the police officer walked up to my window. "Good evening ma'am. You look kind of lost, can I help you?" I guess he had seen me drive past several times slowly trying to look for my turn. I told him where I was headed. It turned out that his mother worked at TFC, so he knew exactly how to get me there by a back way. I thanked him and headed back to the college. My little basement dorm room never looked so welcoming.



I have had some close contact with another kind of darkness lately, the kind you don't necessarily see, but feel. The kind that carries a fear far deeper than a night light or flashlight can combat. But God has faithfully carried me to the front lines and fought tirelessly for me and the ones I love. He continues to fight in His beautiful, all-powerful, perfectly wise ways and I just have to stand back in awe at my Warrior and His intricate perfection.

"A day walker, I love walkin' in the sunlight

I look dirty but I been cleaned on the inside...

We are Children of the Light,

Royal rulers of the day.

Saints, no prisoners of the night,

Trust and Love will lead the way,

We are free..."