Join us on our faith journey as we follow Jesus to Ghana, West Africa!

Wednesday, April 03, 2013

We have a guest blogger today - our younger son, Ken.  Following is a descriptive essay he wrote for his Freshman English class at Rose-Hulman.  We are pleased to report that he received a grade of "96" on the essay.  Keep up the good work, Ken!

Meanwhile, I was a guest blogger on the Shine Girls (we're shining for Jesus) blog by Jillian Hill last week.  You can read here about how the Shine Girls celebrated World Water Day, without even knowing it!

Waking Light 

I wake up with the sun reaching across my face. My room is on the western side of the house, but the warm, golden light floods through the hallway that makes up most of the building. For a moment I just lie there, taking in this new day. The bakery next-door that had been so noisy the previous night is now almost silent. The smell of freshly baked bread wafts in, politely pleading for me to eat it. I lie still a little longer.

Somewhere I hear birds chirping, a sweet song for only my ears. I lie, listening, when a rustle of palm trees joins in. With the rhythm of the wind accompanying the birds, our secret band is almost complete. Ah, there it is – the cock-a-doodle-doo of one of the many neighborhood roosters. The group quietly demands an audience – I couldn’t leave now! I lie still a little longer.

I realize that the sun no longer covers my face. That warm feeling only lasts for 15 minutes, due to the sun’s angle and the closeness of Ghana to the equator. Now my ceiling fan, currently set to five – or ‘hurricane mode’ – sends a cool tingling sensation through my body. The fan creates a trance-like state, blocking all outside noise with its ample whooshing. I stare at the rapidly spinning blades, hypnotizing myself into a place where time ceases to exist. I focus entirely on the fan, reinvigorated by the energetic cyclone it creates. I really should get up. I lie still a little longer.

I must have nodded off; the sun no longer reaches my curtains. I am aroused by music coming from my iPod – my mother’s small playlist of ‘Hip music’ is set to wake me. It is fast-paced music, with strong rhythms and catchy melodies. My body demands action at this point; I can no longer lie still. I get out of bed and put on the first clothes I find, a plain t-shirt and some mesh shorts. I exit my room and walk down the hall to the kitchen, where my mother hugs me and offers me some French toast. This is an interesting variety, made from bread with sugar initially cooked into it. The soft, moist sweetness is quickly shoveled into my mouth – covered, of course, with a large dose of maple syrup. I down it all with a glass bottle of Coke. Ah, that’s satisfying. With that, I can take on any kind of day!