The Call

 The Call

   I heard it one night while reading the word of God in Scripture. It wasn’t loud and booming like thunder or crashing and tumbling like waves, it was a whisper. Maybe it was like the way the wind sounds when it gently sweeps through the branches of a mighty Baobab tree. I knew it was a call. 

   I recognized the voice, it was still and small. It throbbed in my ears and sent chills down my spine, making its way to my thrumming heart where it took its place and a new rhythm began. I knew that call could not be silenced. Thunder and waves settle, but the wind will always be moving. 

   Looking up at the starry night, I whispered back the verse I had been reading. Isaiah 6:8, “Here am I. Send me.” 

Five Months Later: 

   The final boarding announcement resounded in my ears. 

   “This is the final boarding call for flight seat 23a to Accra, Ghana. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately. The doors of the aircraft close in approximately five minutes' time. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for flight seat 23a to Accra, Ghana.” 

   About four and a half minutes later, I was aboard the closing airplane. My head was still swimming and my heart still pounding, but in the midst of that first close call in my crazy travel experience so far, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace. I was called, and I was coming. And I knew with certainty that the LORD would lead me safely through it all as I followed Him. 

   Approximately twenty-one hours later, I stepped out of the Accra airport. I was in Ghana. And I was again immediately overwhelmed with peace as I stood in the bustling atmosphere. I caught a bus to the mission station I would be staying at. As the noisy vehicle tumbled down the red dust road, I clung to my suitcase that was being tossed around by every pothole. It was like driving on the moon, and my heart was soaring like there was no gravity.

   Peering out the window, I noticed many gargantuan bags of bananas being lugged around on the shoulders of the Ghanaian people. Another passenger on the bus explained that it was harvesting season. The fields were ripe and ready, but there weren’t enough workers to fill all the land that was needed. As I watched the different scenery pass by very bumpily, a verse in the Bible came to my mind: Luke 10:2, “And he said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” I prayed that the hearts of the people would be ripe to accept the Gospel. I knew that God had called me here to reap a harvest, and I would if I did not give up. 

Written by Anonymous

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