International Development Missions

Ron Peterson

Page 2

In 1998, I returned to Ghana and was welcomed like a long lost brother. In my heart I knew I was home. The people were so happy to see me and grateful for what I could teach them. During this trip I was asked to join them at one of the Sunday services. Being a "Sunday-Go-To-Meeting" (under duress only) Lutheran, I said no. The visible disappointment in the Africans gave me the feeling I had really blown something. I couldn't shake the feeling.

Unfortunately for both the Ghanaians and me, funding for their project ended. But it did not end for me. I had to go back. But how? A few months later, I was thumbing through a journal and came across an ad for Lifewater International. Interesting, but I did not pursue it any further.

While I was involved with the Ghana project, I met Brimah Apambire, a Ghanaian working on his PhD in hydrogeology at the University of Nevada, near my home. We met often to discuss the water needs of his country. At one of our meetings he happened to mention Lifewater, and as he had worked with Lifewater previously, he convinced me to investigate further. At his insistence I contacted Lifewater and attended their annual convention in Pasadena, California. Even though I knew that Lifewater was a faith-based organization, I thought I could go to the convention and just ignore the "God" thing. At the convention I realized that the people involved with this group were very solid in their belief in God. They believed that God's hand was directing their work as volunteers with Lifewater. During the conference I became enamored with the Lifewater program and of the possibility of utilizing my skills all over Africa to drill shallow wells and teach pump repair and maintenance along with basic hygiene and sanitation.

Buying in and signing up, I was off. Over the next two years I was to go to Tanzania, Western Sahara, Ghana, and Togo. During this time I saw God through the eyes of the native peoples in a way I wasn't quite sure how to interpret. Something was stirring but I could put no name to it.

In November of 2000, I somehow wound up at a spiritual retreat in Northern Nevada sponsored by Tres Dias. During dinner one evening, I was discussing a technical problem that I had encountered on my last trip to Africa with a fellow engineer. I remember there was a woman sitting at our table listening quietly to our conversation. The conversation was short and we were off to our next Tres Dias activity.

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