Beth Puha's Testimony:

I have been avid about keeping a journal, especially the last few years of my life. Upon returning from Ghana, I have been asked about my trip. Most of the questions I receive are easy, friends wanting to know if I had a good time. Why is it that my journal has stayed empty since my return? Why is it that I find difficulty with even making the simplest reply to questions that friends ask me about my trip? I have prayed about this daily and would like to share my thoughts.

My will has always gotten in my way.
I had a Godly mother, a true prayer warrior who covered all who knew her in a blanket of God’s protection. I always took comfort in knowing that. Even as I witnessed her last breath I knew God was in the room and I felt honored to be gifted with his presence there at such a difficult time. She left behind Godly children, a brother and sister who live only to serve him. What a legacy to leave behind. Although I had accepted him years before her death, I still kept him at arms length while my will and I sorted out the details of my life.

“Come to Africa,” he said, “There, I will show myself to you.”
I came back with more questions then when I left. How is it that such a vast, impoverished continent can be so open to receiving God’s promises? In Ghana, no sentence was ended without thanking God. It has become evident to me that God connected me with a small group of people so that through us he became a body to walk with us and work through us, revealing himself to all who wished to see. We all witnessed him through that body. Every day, as we set out about our tasks he worked with us, he laughed with us, he wept with us. His daily presence was tangible to me.

Why then, in a country where the abject poverty and smells assaulted me on a daily basis was I able to experience His loving presence in a way that I never had before? How do I explain the power of prayer when kneeling with others over a dying baby? How do I explain searching frantically through the crowd, not looking for medicine I needed but knowing I needed to find Penny, to lay her hands on another child I knew was close to death, so that we all could pray that this small soul named Joshua and the grandmother who held him could know Jesus.How do I tell anyone that the very next day after Joshua’s death this same grandmother came to stand before me asking me to pray for her?

How do I tell anyone that I met God on a daily basis while in Ghana? How do I tell anyone that he was my constant companion? How do I explain to anyone that I heard his joyous laughter in Ghana? I heard him sing and saw him dance. I felt his great peace and assurance. When my trip was over, I felt him smile upon me.

For me, God answered one question, I know now what it means to be “The body of Christ.” Through his body all things are possible. To Him goes the glory! I will never be the same, and for that I am glad.

Beth Puha

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