Like a Missionary

I wanted to write a quick little note here for all of my lovely supporters!

Kait and I head out on Tuesday. Yes. This Tuesday. December 17th.

A lot of people want to know how I'm feeling about it. So, here is an attempt at it. I have things that I am looking forward to about being back, such as spending time with family and friends, eating American food, and having a snowy Christmas.

However, I will be leaving behind a piece of my heart. The people that I work with, live with, and see on a daily basis will forever remain in my memories. They will be cherished and missed. As for the Ethiopian people and culture: there will be many times that bring me to tears either from laughing at something that had happened, or because I miss it that much.  The beauty of Ethiopia is something that I'll remember, as well. It isn't northwest Montana, but it's still beautiful. I love looking out across the valleys, seeing acacia trees, donkeys, cows, and skinny horses.

Although there are many differences in Ethiopian culture and American culture, God is at work in both places. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. His people are working to spread the Gospel in both places. Although I am leaving this mission field, I am going back to another mission field. How do I feel about that?

Like a missionary.

Filling Buckets

Today I was at Bingham Academy helping out in the 1^st grade class. I have been assigned the task of helping the students with words. The teacher calls it Working with Words. When I walked into the classroom today, she had all of the kids sitting in the ‘library’ and she was reading to them – always a precious site. Then in walks another dude. This man does a character trait activity with the kids once a month. Today he talked about fillings people’s buckets.

He also read a book to them. The book told the children that everyone has an invisible bucket. Everyone needs to have their buckets filled by someone. We need to have our buckets filled by someone. We also need to fill other peoples’ buckets. The opposite of a bucket filler is a bucket dipper. A bucket dipper is someone who says mean things, does mean things, or ignores people. We don’t want people dipping out of our buckets; and we shouldn't dip out of other people’s buckets.

After talking about ways we can fill other people’s buckets, the man says something that was so profound. This is the part I really need to you to hear; the part that needs to sink in. He told them that often times we think nice things about people, but we never tell them. We need to tell people the nice thoughts we have about them.

In the American culture, people get so awkward when you compliment another person, particularly if they are the opposite gender. Why? I have zero idea. We need to kick that to the curb and start complimenting (within reason, of course. People don’t need to go crazy with it.). Why should we suppress a thought if it’s going to fill someone else up?

What are you: a bucket filler, a bucket dipper, or a compliment keeper?

I challenge you to be more of a bucket filler. Watch what happens. Filling people’s buckets fills your bucket in return. 

[Lack of] Freedom of Education

“I don’t want to go to school!” We hear these words, we say these words, we think these words. Why? Because in America we have to go to school. We have to. The government tells us we have to go to school or be homeschooled. There are states that if we aren’t sending our kids to school, we can get in trouble with the law. Students are unmotivated. Students fake sick, slack on their homework, joke around too much, deliberately just skip class - they just don’t care. Don’t get me wrong, I know there are students who do take school seriously, and sometimes even a little “too seriously” by some peoples standards. Kids all across the globe dread going to school….

Actually they don’t.

This isn’t a bashing on America post. Well, it isn’t intended to be one, so hopefully I don’t do that. Time and time again I am reminded of how little we Americans, especially those who are in middle school and high school, appreciate the fact that we are ‘forced’ to go to school. When did becoming educated become a bad thing in America?

That is not how it is everywhere. Here in Ethiopia, students are lucky to get passed the 8^th grade. Let me stop you right there. It is not, and I repeat not, because they are undereducated or unable to do school. It is because there is an extremely hard test that every student must take in order to pass 8^th grade. What happens if they don’t pass? Their education is stopped. So they study. Night and day. More than I have ever studied throughout high school and college. And they are in 8^th grade. For those that pass the test, they have  one year to study more, and more, and more, because they have to take another test in order to get to 10^th grade. Finally when they make it to grade 12 there is even more pressure to study their brains out because if they don’t score well enough on this one test, the chances of them getting into college goes down severely. Why? Because they can’t afford to go to a good University. Let me make it a little more personal.

My friend, Gilany, from Nekempte is a good student. She studied, and made it to 9^th grade. Then she studied, and studied, and praise God she made it to 10^th grade. Her entire high school career she devoted to educating herself, absorbing as much knowledge as she possibly could. Why? Because senior year she has to take a test that will determine the course of her life.  She took the test. We eagerly awaited the results, prayed, and waited, and prayed, and waited. Finally the day came that she got her results. She came to Bible Study. She spoke in afan Oromoo to Doretha. On the way home Doretha told us the results: she didn’t score high enough.

She doesn’t know where her life will go. She doesn’t know what she’ll do. All she knows is she failed.

For those that pass the test and are able to go onto University, they don’t hold much weight in the decision of their career path. You get to put down 7 choices of majors, starting from the one you want most. The school can, and often does, deny the major you want. They’ll tell you what you are going to study. Let me make this a little more personal. 

One of our workers, Zenbaba, has four kids, two of which are in school. Her eldest daughter wanted to be in medicine. The school put her in computer science. Her second daughter had a similar outcome. Neither were even close to what they hoped and dreamed for.  It doesn’t matter what their passions are. It doesn’t matter what they want. What matters is what the people in charge say. They don’t drop out because they need an education to get a good job. If they stopped going to school what could they become? A nanny? A house worker? A driver? I’m not talking down on these jobs, because these are important and good jobs here. People are honored to have these jobs. What I am saying is if they have the opportunity to get a good education, regardless it’s the field they want or not, they almost have to do what they are told.

What I want you to take from this is that the education system in America gives us freedom. We don’t have to put on more stress than should be allowed as a 13 year old. We don’t have to study ourselves sick just to make it to 10^th grade. We don’t have to worry ourselves to death that we won’t be able to get into a college. For those of us that go to college, we have the freedom to choose our major. We get to decide the course of our life. We all need to stop taking our education for granted. We all need to own our education. We all need to start taking our education a little more seriously. We all need to take a step back and realize how privileged we really are to be “forced” to go to school.  

Overseas Missionary

What is the purpose of a missionary? To evangelize to the broken. To share the Gospel with the needy. To introduce the Savior to the unsaved.

I can go on and on and on about being “overseas”, living as a missionary, having a part in God’s plan with the African people. But I’m not going to. I had a revelation yesterday that I think you need to hear.

I was talking to a dear friend yesterday via Facebook messaging (praise God for FB messaging!).  This friend is having some issues with a family member. One snippet that is sticking in my mind from what Friend said is this, “If you put me and (family member) overseas with a common purpose it wouldn’t make us get along.” It kind of made me stop and think for a minute before I made my reply.

First of all, you are overseas. In my eyes, you are overseas; from African’s eyes, you are overseas, from anybody who isn’t currently in North America, you are overseas.

The second thing I realized was this: if you are a Christian you do have a common purpose: making disciples. When you don’t get along with someone, when you don’t really care for someone, when someone rubs you the wrong way – you still have the common goal of making disciples. You do not need to be in Ethiopia, in Chile, in Ukraine to be doing what the Lord has commanded of those who love Him. Make disciples.

There are a lot of people with the mindset, “Oh, I could never live in another country to share the Gospel.” I have two things to say to that. 1.) If it’s the Lord’s will, you’ll go. 2.) GOOD! That means you have a heart for the people around you. Make disciples of them. They need the Gospel just as much as the unreached Gumuz people in Ethiopia.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you’ve heard this kind of talk before. Talk of reaching out to those who don’t know Christ that are in your neighborhood. But I’ll bet (not literally bet) that you have not had someone who is sitting in Africa as a missionary telling you that it is EQUALLY important to share the Savior with those around you.

Get out of the mindset that you are not a missionary. You are. Missionaries are people that are on a ‘religious mission, especially one to promote Christianity’ (from Googling missionary).  There are people all around you are not living their lives for Jesus. Notice I did not say “are Christians?” Many people will claim Christianity, but they aren’t living it out. If that’s you, I’m calling you out as well – if you are going to claim to be a follower of Jesus, be a follower of Jesus. If you are truly following Jesus then  you are missionary where ever you are. 

Teaching Update

I wanted to take a few minutes and update everyone on how I’m liking (or disliking…dun dun duuuun. Just kidding) homeschooling! So here ya go.

Things have been going quite well! Ethan and I have a pretty good understanding of how the other works. It makes things a lot easier! He knows what I expect of him as a student, and I have a good idea of what he expects of me as a teacher. We have a pretty good system down which makes our days go a lot smoother.

Homeschooling is hard for the both of us in ways that being in a classroom isn’t. The biggest reason it’s hard, I think, is the fact that there aren’t other students. This actually affects both of us. It affects Ethan because he has no other 4^th grade boys to talk to, or play with at recess, or to joke around with. It affects me because the transitions are extremely different. Students feed off of each other’s energy, which is actually a positive thing sometimes! I’m not really sure how to explain it better, so hopefully you can try to imagine it, haha.

There is a new update!

One of our teammates is having back surgery (pray for him!) and his wife flew to America to help. Two of their kids, Ezra and Anna, will be staying with us on the compound, and I’ll be teaching Ezra! He’s also in 4^th grade, and best friends with Ethan. I am very excited to have another student; Ethan is very excited to have a friend!

Pray for Ezra and Anna to not be too homesick. Pray that as we teach them we have a good time. Pray for Craig as he gets back surgery. Pray for Allison as she is away from her kids and helping her husband recover from back surgery. And pray for the rest of my time here. I’ll be back in the States in less than two months. I love home, but I also love Ethiopia.

Thank you for your prayers and your support! I would love to hear from you, either on here, Facebook, e-mail, or by you sending me a card or letter. I love cards and letters. J Let me know if you need my address!

Waqaauu si ha ebesu!

Ciao!

Soddo Homeschool Trip

Hey, y’all!

I was able to go on a little trip downcountry! We visited the town of Soddo, which is about 5-6 hours from Addis. It was beautiful – I have a lot of pictures to share when I get back! The compound we stayed on was at Soddo Christian Hospital. (They have Wi-Fi!!!!!) The purpose of the trip was for us to observe, help, and encourage the moms who homeschool their kids.

Homeschool moms (or dads) are incredible. These women not only have the roles of mom (which is huge in itself) and wife, but now teacher as well. Teaching is hard work when you teach one level, throw on two, three, four levels and it just blows my mind. A lot of the homeschool moms here do not have a teaching background, they are figuring it out as they go along. When they finish teaching, they continue being mom and wife (wives to doctors: ER docs, pediatricians, surgeons, and more). Incredible.

Since we were on the same compound as one of the best hospitals in Ethiopia, we took a little tour with Dr. Dave Ayer, one of the homeschool families’ dads. One thing that’s a little different than America is we were able to check out all kinds of things. So we started in the ER. We walked in to where the patients were. One person had been in a bad car accident, so we didn’t see him – it didn’t sound too pretty, though. We saw two other kids who had been in car accidents: one must have had his leg broken because it was all bandaged up with blood seeping through the bandages.

We continued on.

We went to the surgery part. We walked into an operating room and Dave told us all about the different equipment and how it is good for Ethiopia, but still sub-par for America. There was an operation going on in the next OR, so we poked our heads in. There was a pregnant lady having a C-section. There was blood everywhere. (Pretty much all I saw was a big belly, blood, and then I shut the door. Dave told me there was blood everywhere-like on the wall everywhere. Praise God I didn’t see that!)

We continued on.

Since this hospital is small and cramped the ICU and Recovery is in the same room, which is where we went next. As soon as we got in there everyone prayed together; not just the forengie’s, but the African people, too. The first boy we saw was about 4 years old. He was in the ICU part, not the recovery part. This boy is suffering from a type of paralysis that starts in your feet and works its way up. It happens quite rapidly. He has been in there for one week and the paralysis has taken over his body leaving his neck and head the only non-paralyzed parts. I prayed over him, then looked into the most scared child eyes I’ve ever seen. If he can make it past the next two weeks he should be fine. Pray that God heals his little body and he is able to grow in faith and spread the Gospel.

The next patient we saw was the smallest baby I have ever seen in my life. She was born four weeks early, which wouldn’t be a big deal if we were in America. We prayed over her little life and for her family. She was hooked up to this little machine with a small mask covering her nose and mouth pumping oxygen into her lungs. Pray that God strengthens her physically and mentally so she can grow to love Him and spread the Gospel.

We also saw a patient who had his jaw wired shut. Something started bleeding internally and he couldn’t get it out through his mouth because his jaw was wired shut. We looked over and blood was gushing from his nose. Doctors surrounded him trying to clear the blood and his airway. By the time we left he was back to his state of stability.

We continued on.

The rest of the hospital tour was less gruesome and heart-breaking. We saw one baby girl that was in an incubator. Her story is tragic, but her life is a miracle. While her mom was pregnant with her they were in a tragic car accident. They traveled a long time in order to reach Soddo Christian Hospital. They reached the hospital, got into emergency surgery, and began the C-Section. The next morning the mom lost her life. However, she gave life to this beautiful little baby girl. Pray that she will not blame God for what happened, but instead find the life that she has been given my Him.

Before we went Soddo there was a Measles outbreak. People, kids, were dying from this outbreak. Thankfully these doctors were able to administer the medicine that would save many. The end of our tour included seeing the last two Measles patients: two boys under the age of 2. They were healed from this outbreak – praise God. These babies were not granted the opportunity of a longer life, but they also now have the opportunity to be adopted by loving, supportive families. Upon leaving the hospital they will be taken to Italy, waiting, hoping, and wanting to be adopted.

Soddo Christian Hospital is a beacon of light for African’s all around. Many people from Ethiopia, Sudan, and probably other countries travel hours –days—to reach them. The doctors are knowledgeable and excellent at what they do. More important than that, they are compassionate. Their compassion reaches beyond the medical needs to the spiritual needs. Many of the doctors pray for their patients-which is so cool. What is even cooler, though, is the fact that their patients are open and willing to prayer. People come to know Jesus Christ because of the light that literally shines in a dark place.

Pray that the Lord will continue to work through this hospital, and through the doctors. Pray that the Christians are constantly seeking the Lord, allowing Him to take the hurts and worries and burdens of all that comes with being a doctor. Pray for the mom's and the children to be filled with love, joy, patience, and knowledgeable. Pray for the moms that are homeschooling to be filled with patience and encouragement. Pray that the people of Soddo see this difference in the Christian community and be changed because of the amazing grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ. 

The Orphanage

After two months of praying and asking, I was finally able to visit an orphanage! I was able to go with the 6^th grade class from Bingham Academy. It was a great experience and I hope to go back!

When we got into the orphanage the first room we went into was the babies’ room. There were 20-25 cribs crammed in this little room. Thankfully there were only 7 or 8 babies. I say thankfully because the babies keep getting adopted! Praise God for that! There was one baby who didn’t have a name that I happened to pick up. I couldn’t tell if this baby was a boy or girl, but I think he was boy – therefore I will refer to that baby as a boy. He had a really hard time focusing on my face, which I think is a combination between being so young and having very limited attention. I held this little baby for about half an hour before we saw the rest of the orphanage.

The second room we went into had 5 disabled kids. Let me tell you: they are precious. I mostly talked to Baby K and Jafar. Baby K could not move his legs more than -10 degrees, had limited movement with his arms, and could move his head back in forth, like when you shake your head no. When I talked to him he would stare at me with his big brown eyes, occasionally smiling back. He loved holding my hand, too. Baby K loved having attention and being touched.

Jafar had the biggest, prettiest eyes with the longest, best curled eyelashes I have ever seen. I have never seen a child more excited to be talked to in my life. It didn’t matter what I told him for two reasons: 1.) getting healthy attention is more important than talking about insignificant things and, 2.) he couldn’t understand me since I was speaking in English. I sat between Jafar and Baby K, taking turns looking at them, talking to them, rubbing their hands. Whenever I would turn my head to talk to the other then look back the first would have lost his smile and looked sad and forgotten again. Until our eyes met and I smiled, then he would smile, his eyes shiningly brightly. I told both of these kiddos what it was like outside, the conversation I had with someone earlier that morning, and about Darby who sat with me for a few minutes. It didn’t matter; they loved it.

After hanging out with them for a while I went back to the babies’ room.  There is a little girl in there named Elsa Bett. Little Else is around ten years old, can’t walk, and confined to bed. She can’t speak, can’t move her legs, and has limited movement with her arms – I saw no movement in her wrists or hands. She is suffering from hydro syphilis. Little Elsa Bett. She stole my heart. I talked, she listened. She looked at me when she could get control of her eyes. She smiled twice, made some gurgling sounds once, and cried once. We put some music on and she loved it. I danced for her, she loved it. When I started dancing she started moving her arms and trying to move her head, she smiled so big that it seemed like all of her problems disappeared.

After a while I decided to hold the little baby boy again. I picked him up and we talked for a while. After a couple of minutes he was able to focus his eyes on mine! It was a great feat for the day. After he figured out how to focus on my face he couldn’t stop. I help him, walked around with him, speaking softly to him. Then he fell asleep. More like he fell into a trance. We placed all of the babies on mats on the floor in the sunshine so they could get some sun on their little legs. I help my little sleeping boy for a while before deciding to lay him next to the other babies. He didn’t stir. We unbuttoned his almost too little onesie to let his skin be exposed to the sun, hopefully soaking up some Vitamin D. He still didn’t stir. There was crying, laughing, and talking going on – he didn’t stir. He was out; it was kind of funny. Since he was sleeping I decided to go tour the Catholic church next to the orphanage, so I did. When I came back he was awake and ready to be held again!!

I split up the rest of my time between the babies, Elsa, and Baby K and Jafar. These kiddos are precious. They are children of God. They are hanging out in this orphanage hoping and wanting and waiting to be adopted. Thankfully this orphanage was a decent orphanage. But an orphanage is not an ideal place to grow up. The babies, the toddlers, the older kids – disabled and non-disabled alike – they all need parents, families, homes to grow up in love, faith, and support. They need to hear and see the love of Jesus.

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress.” –James 1:27a