stormy-sky-at-the-village The rains came abruptly, with little warning, just as darkness was settling in on Friday evening. The rains disturbed the wake keeping by keeping most of the villagers in their homes. A power much larger than the simple plans of man dictated that only the closest family members and the most committed supporters would show up that night.

My wife and I had travelled to her home village to take part in the funeral celebrations for the late ɔkyeamehene (chief linguist). This was a long awaited event – the man died more than six months ago, but due to circumstances relating to his high ranking position in the Traditional Council, his funeral had been delayed until this weekend. All of the conditions laid out by tradition had finally been met; all of the arrangements had been made; the rains were a humbling reminder of man’s limitations.

Rather than being distressed by the turn of events, we gave thanks because we knew that these rains would then signal an all clear for the much more important proceedings which would take place the following day. Once again, we could see the wisdom of that higher power, and we privately expressed our gratitude. Life is abundant with such wisdom, if only we are open to receive it.

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