This past Sunday morning did not go as planned.
Not in the least.
And what a shame since it was our only Sunday in Ghana this trip.
After breakfast at the guesthouse in Sogakope, we had a 30-minute drive to Pastor Ernest's church in Akplale. There we would worship with the congregation and I was to preach the morning's message.
I woke up ready and excited about the opportunity.
BUT a heavy storm had passed through Saturday afternoon and Emmanuel knew the only road to Akplale would be flooded.
Ernest had called to say the road was fine and we should still come. And to his credit, Emmanuel navigated several treacherous patches of mud before meeting his match.
The brown water covering this stretch of road had hidden a ditch dug along the left side. Our rear tire slid into it and we came to an abrupt stop.
At first Emmanuel insisted that Clark, Steve, and I remain in the truck since there was no way to exit the vehicle that didn't involve stepping into mud. Emmanuel made a valiant effort with his machete (where did that come from?) to cut branches to stuff under the tire for traction.
But to no avail.
We three passengers eventually defied orders, removed our socks and shoes, rolled up our pant legs, and joined Emmanuel in the mud.
Even 3 pushing and one hitting the gas didn't get us any traction and Emmanuel finally called Ernest and asked for help.
And about 15 minutes later we heard voices approaching from the brush and about 15 men, women, and children appeared - all dressed in their Sunday best.
More branches were chopped and added to the mud. And with all of us pushing and rocking the truck in rhythm, and with Emmanuel behind the wheel, the truck finally broke free - nearly two hours after getting stuck.
Of course when Emmanuel broke free, he gunned the engine to get to drier ground and sprayed everyone behind the truck with copious amounts of mud. (I was pushing from the side. 😉)
The church members were too busy rejoicing in our success to be too bothered by the mud. Still, Steve insisted on giving them some money for their trouble and one of the matriarchs accepted the gift - most reluctantly.
It was only at this point that I realized these people weren't even from the church we were meant to visit! Ernest had called some friends at a church much closer to where we were stuck so that help would arrive as quickly as possible.
The man in the middle below - who had been dressed in pristine white from head to toe at his arrival - was their Pastor, David!
Once people shook the loose mud free, most of the kids jumped into the back of the pickup for a ride back to their church building. They were a mess - but all smiles!
Did I mention how hot it was and how sweaty everyone was beneath the mud?
Here's the church building they had come from:
I'm not sure if these fine people went back and picked up the worship where it left off or not, but we had completely missed the service at Ernest's church, so we went to get cleaned up and prepare for lunch.
So in the end, none of the four of us heard a sermon that morning.
But we saw one.
