Whose Sheep These Are I Think I Know...

When Sister Stevenson and I received our call to serve in Ghana, our dear friend Anita sent us this picture of her great grandfather.  He was an explorer for the English Royal Geographic Society in Accra in the early 1900's.  And then she mentioned that he had died of Malaria here and was buried in the English cemetery.  I thought it was a good story until the dying part.  

This week, I thought of Anita's great grandfather as I lay in bed with a 103 fever and a pail and a clear shot to the bathroom.  It wasn't Malaria, but it wasn't much fun either.  Luckily, drugs and 24 hours put it behind me.

We continued the missionary interviews this week, both districts were here in the Cape Coast area.

They even ate the chicken bones! 

We also had our monthly Mission Leadership Council Meeting this week.  I know it looks like all we do is eat, but I don't take pictures when we are working.

I didn't make it out to Tarkwa again this week for their interviews.  They were pretty understanding even though I couldn't share with them why I had to cancel out again.

This weekend was the branch conference for the Mankessim 1st Branch.  We spent two hours on Saturday training on the power of the branch council.  We even had them practice a bit for real.

This is actually both branch councils in Mankessim -- we did their training together.

On Sunday, we held the conference during their regular meeting schedule.  I spoke in Sacrament Meeting and mentioned that there were many customs in Ghana that I still did not understand.  For example, the way that sheep are cared for completely befuddles me.  I've never seen anyone watching the sheep.  They wander around anywhere they want and eat only what they can find.  They crisscross the highway like the own the place.  And if you ask, "Whose sheep are those?", people just smile at you and shrug.  

I said while this method of caring for sheep may work well here, the Savior compared his Church to a sheepfold, where the shepherd loved his sheep and would give his life for his sheep.  If one was lost, he would leave the ninety and nine and go into the wilderness to find that which was lost.  He would lead them to green pastures.  His sheep knew his voice and would follow him in love.  That is how we minister in the Church of Jesus Christ.  So, the next time you see a scrawny sheep chewing a weed by the side of the highway, remember, we can do much better in ministering to the Lord's flock.

A couple of Good Shepherds in Mankessim.

The branch president was not able to attend the conference because he had been injured two weeks ago.  He is a farmer and was bicycling to his farm at 5 a.m. in the dark.  There was a man sleeping in the road that he did not see and it sent him over the handlebars and he landed face first.  He gets his five new teeth this week and his face was pretty well healed, although still a little puffy around the mouth. We stopped by his house after the meeting to say hello and wish him a quick recovery.   The missionaries have been spending some time out on the farm to help keep things going while he is down.  Good shepherds!

Look what we had for dinner today! 

Chicken Satay with peanut sauce and cucumber salad.