Pondering life

Why is life so easy for me and so hard for so many others? It's a question I've pondered many times in my life, particularly in the past few years.

For all my life I will remember the night of January 1, 2006 when I crossed Lake Ponchatrain. I was with a team going to New Orleans to work at a relief center after Hurricane Katrina had devastated the area months before. Never had I ever seen anything like it, such utter devastation and pain. The people of New Orleans had it hard. That week was cold and they had no winter clothing or blankets. They came to the relief center for food, clothing, blankets, medical supplies - everything they needed for day-to-day living. But in the midst of all that, they blessed me in ways I will never forget. They smiled and hugged and were so thankful for the little we could do for them. As I returned over the next months to help out where I could, they continued to encourage me tremendously.

My New Orleans experiences changed my way of thinking forever and I came back home to South Carolina to find ways to bring encouragement to people at home. That's when we discovered the homeless community. Again I met people with so little, real-life men and women who were living a really hard life. Our house church, LifeNet, began to hang out with them on Saturday mornings at Finlay Park, sharing breakfast of sausage biscuits and cheese grits. We sang together and prayed together and so often, cried with them. Their stories broke my heart in the same way the stories of the precious people of New Orleans had broken my heart. Once again I found myself asking the question, why is my life so easy, so wonderful, so full when others have it so hard.

For all my life, I will remember the morning of July 8, 2009, the day I set foot on Ghanaian soil.

Life in Africa is hard. I've met hundreds upon hundreds of people in the past eight days. Yes, life is hard here in Ghana.

Many villages have no wells, no electricity, no running water and of course, no plumbing. They carry contaminated water from rivers and streams for all their water needs. They live in one room thatch or mud huts. A few of the lucky ones have tin roofs instead of thatch. They don't have stoves, refrigerators, mattresses, sofas, or so many of the things I think I need. You get the idea, I'm sure. They have a very hard life.

But they do have love. They have love for their families, love for their God, love for their neighbors. Amazingly they've shown great love to me a complete stranger from the USA. They have given so much to me. They give me hugs and have taught me their wonderful handshake. They laugh with me, they walk with me, they help me climb up steep rocky paths and carry my heavy backpack.They smile at me, they sing, they dance, they allow me to worship with them. They give gifts of beautiful pieces of Kente cloth with our names embroidered on each one, pineapples, bananas, plantains and even a goat. They smile and they are a beautiful happy people.

I still don't know the answer to my question. I doubt I ever will. What I do know, however, is that when I met the people of New Orleans and the people of the homeless community, and became aware of their plights in life, I became responsible. I became responsible to reach out to them, to love them, to let them know that they are special people and that God loves them. I became responsible to do the things within my realm of possibility to help.

I now know the plight of the people of Ghana. Life is hard. What can I do to give back just a little of what they've given me and try to make their lives a little easier?