Two years ago, when we began this little thing called Mercy Project, we were motivated by one thing: the children and getting them out of their captivity.
The other stuff--economic development, aquaculture, changing the lives of the fishermen and an entire village--came later. We are passionate about all of those things now, and we believe in every part of our process. We wouldn't change any of it, and we are certain that the Lord is up to big things not just in the lives of the children but in the lives of entire village communities in Ghana.
However, our hearts (mine and Chris's) still long for these children.
So, this day has been anticipated, prayed for, agonized over, dreamt about, and fought for for two years. It was almost surreal that it was actually happening, and some days it is still surreal that it did happen. We saw it, and I sometimes still can't believe it.
For the sake of the story, this blog will mostly just document the experience of the rescue, and all of my reflection will come later because, in all honesty, it's still coming to me.
As we were preparing our timeline for the trip, we had anticipated arriving in Ghana on Thursday evening, reaching Adovepke (the village where the rescue would take place) on Friday afternoon, spending the rest of Friday and all day Saturday wrapping up details with the chief and the children, and rescuing the children first thing Sunday morning. But, as all plans have a tendency to do, they got changed. Someone very important to many of the villagers passed away, and the funeral was to be held on Sunday in a different village. This meant that many people, including masters and children, would be gone from Adovepke on Sunday. We concluded that this was no good, so we moved the rescue to Saturday. We made last-minute arrangements for the children for Saturday night, and we were ready to face and overcome any challenges to get those children to freedom on Saturday.
When we arrived in Adovepke, we weren't met with challenges but instead compliance and willing hearts. Our staff on the ground had done an amazing job laying the framework for us to come right in and finish up the last minute details to get the rescue all lined up. The Lord had gone before us and heard our cries. Goodness, He is faithful.
Every master signed (or used a gentian violet fingerprint) a document stating that they were releasing their trafficked children to the care of Mercy Project.
Powerful stuff.
Powerful stuff.
Fred (one of our Ghanaian employees) and Chris spent the night in the village so that they could sort out some confusion over which kids were truly trafficked. We wanted to ensure that no child would come with us that was not indeed legitimately trafficked, but we also did not want a single trafficked child to be left behind. Language barriers can make that communication difficult, but they pressed through and got it done.
The rescue could not have gone better. The villagers could not have been more supportive. The trafficked children were mostly dressed in nice, clean clothes. Many of them even had bags of "stuff" to take with them, and some masters were handing the children small amounts of money for the journey. Amazing stuff, I tell you.
All the 24 children were gathered together under the tree, and all the villagers congregated there to see us off. Before we left, Chris addressed everyone. One of the most powerful moments was when he asked anyone who had been trafficked as a child to raise their hands. A few seconds passed before more than half of the adults standing in the circle hand their hands raised in the air. Chris thanked them for giving these children a chance that they never had. It was a powerful moment.
Fred prayed for all of us, we lined the kids up, counted them for the millionth time, and headed down to the shore to get on the boat.
Tears filled my eyes as the drums started playing and villagers began singing and dancing alongside us. The kids were smiling. We were holding their hands. It was like a dream.
As I watched them climb onto the boat one by one, I was struck by the grace of God.
I was humbled and so thankful that He was allowing me to participate in His kingdom.
Those 24 children on the boat were a sight to behold. A beautiful, overwhelming sight.
The afternoon and evening got a little crazy. A storm knocked out electricity in the village where the temporary shelter was. We had to run through the pitch black night in pouring down rain to get the children where they needed to be. But, they were smiling and laughing. Ecstatic when they realized that they had their own sleeping mats and would be having a massive slumber party that night.
I will never forget seeing those smiles by flashlight.
Smiles of freedom and rescue and redemption.
All the 24 children were gathered together under the tree, and all the villagers congregated there to see us off. Before we left, Chris addressed everyone. One of the most powerful moments was when he asked anyone who had been trafficked as a child to raise their hands. A few seconds passed before more than half of the adults standing in the circle hand their hands raised in the air. Chris thanked them for giving these children a chance that they never had. It was a powerful moment.
Fred prayed for all of us, we lined the kids up, counted them for the millionth time, and headed down to the shore to get on the boat.
Tears filled my eyes as the drums started playing and villagers began singing and dancing alongside us. The kids were smiling. We were holding their hands. It was like a dream.
As I watched them climb onto the boat one by one, I was struck by the grace of God.
I was humbled and so thankful that He was allowing me to participate in His kingdom.
Those 24 children on the boat were a sight to behold. A beautiful, overwhelming sight.
The afternoon and evening got a little crazy. A storm knocked out electricity in the village where the temporary shelter was. We had to run through the pitch black night in pouring down rain to get the children where they needed to be. But, they were smiling and laughing. Ecstatic when they realized that they had their own sleeping mats and would be having a massive slumber party that night.
I will never forget seeing those smiles by flashlight.
Smiles of freedom and rescue and redemption.
1 comment:
This made me cry. I love how the village took care of them and sent them off with gifts and music. Amazing.
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