where to begin?

I’ve sat in front of this computer for approximately 17 minutes and I still do not know where to begin.

I don’t even know what the beginning is. Do I start when we arrived in Ate Bubu last week? Or when Ted and I stepped off the plane in Accra? No…all of this originates much earlier than that.

Truthfully I could start with the dawn of creation. Or the prophet Isaiah. Or the life of Jesus Christ. But I think I’ll skip forward a millennium or two and commence this post by talking about a few high school students who used to meet in our apartment on Saturday mornings with nothing but a love of Jesus and a stirring in their hearts (and the promise of donuts) urging them out of their comfy beds on a treasured weekend morning. A group that prayed and wept and cried out to God and listened when He answered.

I could write about so many things. I could share so many stories! About Caleb, or Jack...Kate, Emily, Ashlea...Taylor, Jacob, Ethan, Ali...

I could talk about a muggy evening in July--a year and a half ago--when Madie said “I’ve named these eight girls. I pray for a different one each day.” On Friday, she was able to see the faces of two girls that God planted in her tender heart when all of this was a distant plan in the future...Sarah and Gloria.

I could reminisce about the meeting when Lauren shared a holy dream...I could write out all of Clare's incredibly profound statements that would move you to tears. I could describe the time Jordan Sutton was buying a book at Barnes & Noble and pulled out a wallet with the words "MY SISTER IS IN SLAVERY" scrawled across the top, and how it led to a 45-minute discussion with the cashier about his siblings, in Ghana, whom he'd never met, but that he wanted to be reminded of every time he spent money.

I could share about the knock on our door late one morning. It was one of our high schoolers, about 45 minutes after that week’s meeting had ended, offering all the money he’d made working last summer. “For the girls,” he said.

I have a MILLION stories to tell (and a thousand pictures to share).

But suffice to say…God is good. We heard “No” so many times this week, from so many people. But the Lord said “YES” and here we are…in a beautiful yellow house with bamboo bunk beds and little girls dancing in the courtyard as Davi Mercy and Auntie Helen fry yams for supper and tease them from the kitchen window.

Three beds in their room and three chairs at the table are conspicuously empty, but for now we rejoice in God’s faithfulness and trust in His timing.

To our Eight Oaksters who have responded to The Call: We love you so much. We carried you in our hearts as we sailed across the lake, when we first laid eyes on these five girls we spent so many hours praying for together, and when we brought them through the front doors of The Yellow House for the first time...to their home that each of you built through your faith and your dedication. Thank you for illustrating the beauty of the body of Christ.

I don’t feel responsible for this in any way, merely blessed to witness the story of Amazing Grace as it unfolds.

We visited a village on one of the lake's many islands...where we met God's Way.

This picture just makes my heart happy.

The first time we met Dina, Lucky, Sarah, and Gloria was the morning we brought them home. They were standing on the side of the road holding little bags. How precious are those faces?