6 Reasons Why I Might Be the Real Elsa

Reasons why I might be the real Elsa:

1.) My favorite color is blue
2.) I love snow
3.) I have long blonde hair (well, if I dyed it I would)
4.) I have a little sister with brown hair
5.) I am royalty
6.) The cold never bothered be anyway

Moral of the story: if Eminem were to ask the real Queen Elsa to stand up, I would stand up.

Back to School Advice

The start of a new school year is upon us. The time to start fresh, try new things, and get organized (again) is here. Although this happens every year, sometimes we need to be reminded of a few things. Here is some food for thought as you embark on your new journey.

1.) Don't pack your schedule. Leave room for spontaneous events, whether it's a date to the donut shop with your pals or a nap. Over scheduling results in restlessness, and let's face it: most of us could use some more rest. We were created to work: "The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it" (Genesis 2:16). Work is good. But so is resting.

2.) Do something fun. We were created to work, but we were also created to enjoy this life. Have one day a week or one day every two weeks that you get together with a few friends and go to a movie. Plan a trip to see a concert, whether it's someone you've been dying to see or a band that is just starting out. Go camping or ice skating (depending on the time of year, of course). Have a photo shoot. Take a trip to visit that friend you've been meaning to visit for a while. You'll enjoy your life a lot more.

3.) Enjoy what you are doing. Or at least try to. I know many people who don't really like their jobs. I can understand that. If you hate your job, try to find things you do enjoy while you are there. If even that is too hard, try to be thankful you work there. Same goes with school or volunteering or whatever your case may be. When you can only see negatives, either you are involved with something bad or you need to change your mindset. Be thankful you are in the position you are in. Sometimes that can take a while, but it is an important step. Then you can find the positives that will help you enjoy what you are doing. To paraphrase what Mark Hall said, "so many of us are just trying to through the week to the weekend." Trying to get through the week. The week is 5 days. The weekend is 2. Trudging along, being miserable for five days, and enjoying only two days will lead to a fairly miserable life. Folks, we were not made to "just survive, we were made to thrive".

4.) Pick something new to try each month. Maybe you'd like to take up sewing, or swing dancing, or carving, or playing guitar. Do it. Just for one month. Even if you don't really like it, do it for the whole month. We could all use a little more practice at perseverance. If you do like it, that's great! You just found yourself a new hobby. It's a great way to find different things you enjoy or are even good at, as well as to make new friends.

5.) Take a nap. When your life is going crazy, you are going a million different ways, you are spread thinner than 1-ply toilet paper - take a nap. It helps you to destress. Your body needs a break from the insanity. Your brain needs time to process what has happened, what is happening, and what is going to happen. Our brains are amazing organs. Like any living thing, it needs to be cared for and nurtured. Taking a nap is caring and nurturing your brain. If you think you aren't good at taking naps, it's probably because you "don't have time". Except for some people that have negative side effects of taking naps. Then you should set 20 minutes aside to sit in silence, or lay because then you might find out you needed a nap, close your eyes, and relax.

Being a kid was so much easier. And by easier I mean more carefree. And by more carefree I mean we lived off of fun and didn't have schedules. When we started to stress our growing little brains and bodies, our moms told us what to do (ie take a nap). We also enjoyed trying out different things - albeit some probably weren't positive and/or healthy.

As you go into this new school year, remember these five little nuggets. They will make your life more enjoyable. After all, friends, "it's time for us to more than just survive, we were made to thrive".

Scholarship: Powerful Teaching

Hey, friends!

As we are all aware, paying for college is incredibly expensive. I am paying for private college AND out of state tuition at the university! So I have turned to student loans, grants, and scholarships! I have been applying for lots and lots of scholarships. Some of these require outside help.

With that said, I wrote this 250-word essay that I need people to "love" on the website. Please click the link and "love" my essay! I am aware there are two typos in the essay - just ignore those. Hahaha. I appreciate your support!

Here's the link: http://takelessons.com/blog/2014/07/powerful-teaching/

God bless!

The Faction Life

  For those that love reading, you'll understand what I'm about to say. But for those who reading isn't really your thing, it might be something you are like "Whaaaaat? You are so weird." (Hahaha) and that's totally fine. When I read a good book/series it becomes my life, the characters become my friends, the problems become my problems, their world becomes my world. It's crazy, I know.

So, I have been reading the Divergent series this last week. It's been great! Many of my thoughts consists of things that happen in the book. For example, when I see someone doing something I sometimes will automatically try to see what faction they would be in. (If you think that is bad, you should see me about Harry Potter. It's almost embarrassing.) In the series, the city is made up of different factions, or sections, in which each is assigned to a certain work force, if you will. There are five: Erudite, Candor, Amity, Abnegation, and Dauntless. Each faction consists of people with a certain mindset. Erudite loves knowledge and learning; Candor says whatever comes to their minds; Amity is all about peace, friendship, and love (aka the hippies); Abnegation is selfless, focusing on the need and good of others; and Dauntless are the protectors, the police force. Then there are the Divergent, those whose minds work differently and have tendencies of multiple factions.

While talking with my pal, Devra (author of The Pomeroy Life blog at: http://www.thepomeroylife.com/ ), I told her I have been putting my friends in factions. So, I have decided to think, analyze, and record what factions my friends would be in, in my opinion. (I know I can't be the only person who has at least thought of this!) Here are some of the results:

-Erudite: Will P., Adrian W.
-Candor: Juli, Taby, Chris, my mom, Meemo, Gram, Pop
-Amity: Jazmin L., Kirsten P., Haley F., Sarah S., Katie E., Kait C., Morgan B.
-Abnegation: Becky P., Carey L., Aleesha (with some Dauntless), Rachel H., Becky B., Kalyn W.
-Dauntless: Home school moms (because home schooling and being a mom would be hard and take courage),
-Divergent: Devra P. (Erudite, Abnegation, and Dauntless), Shawntel S. (Erudite, Abnegation, and Amity), Ethan H. (Amity and Abnegation), Me (Abnegation, Candor, and a little bit of Erudite)

There you have it! My non-exhaustive list of some people I can put in factions. Where do you think you belong? 

Bag/Beg = Crayon/Crown

Dear Kansas friends,

This is for you. Let's take a little stroll down Memory Lane of the past 4 years. Remember all of those times I would say "bag", "tag", "flag", "wagon", "dragon", etc. and you would never cease to, at the very least, crack a smile and usually say "I'm sorry, you want a what?"

I am so happy to inform you of my not so recent discovery of a word that you cannot say correctly. A word that when said correctly means one thing, and when said your way means some completely different. The word is "crayon". Crayon is pronounced cray - on. Crayon. But when Kansas folk say it, it comes out "crown". So when my darling kids at work or the helpful staff at work ask me for a crayon what they say is "crown". "Miss Kayla, can I have a crown?" "Hey Kayla, where did you say the crowns are?"

My turn to crack a smile. Every time. The first few times I literally had no idea what they were saying. We are making sharks and sea anemones and you want a crown? That makes no sense. We aren't doing anything with princes or princesses, kings or queens. So I say, "You want a what?" or "Where did I say the what are?" After they repeat themselves, sometimes hand movements involved, sometimes after thinking about what I just said, I know they are looking for a crayon. A coloring crayon.

So, my dear friends, I want you to know that you also pronounce things incorrectly (although I still don't think I say "bag" incorrectly; b-a-g (bee-ay-gee) says bag). As you continue to call crayons "crowns" I will smile to myself, say "bag" in my head, and tell you where the crayons are.

Peace and love, my friends. Peace. And. Love.

Kait, the teammate

Friends!!

I have some exciting news regarding my teammate, Kait! She is going back to Ethiopia (I think I've told many of you that while sharing about my time there)! Of course, that means she needs support. Support in prayer, financial support, and encouraging words.

I'll be happy to send along any words of encouragement to her that you may have -- including if you are praying for her!

Her last update was that she was at 67%. Guys. 67% in like two months. She has to raise about $50,000. So that is incredible. Once again, the Lord is showing off his grace, blessing, and riches. Don't you just love it?

So, what will Kait be doing?

Great question! Thanks for asking! She'll be teaching at Bingham Academy, an international school in Addis Ababa. Her first term will be two years! She did her student teaching there the semester we were in Ethiopia together. Bingham is also the school I volunteered at for a few weeks. It's a school filled with incredible teachers, awesome men and women of the Lord. These people have moved to Addis from literally all over the world to aid in spreading the Gospel by teaching missionary kids. And now Kait gets to be one of them! I cannot tell you how excited (and jealous!) I am of this opportunity for her!

I hope you take this opportunity to partner with Kait and help her to get back to Ethiopia! Here's the link to help her financially. Any bit will help. I can attest to that!

https://give.cmfi.org/p-247-kaitlyn-cody.aspx 

Thanks, my friends!
Bless and be blessed!
Ciao, ciao!

Three Months Later...

It still seems like I was just in Ethiopia a few weeks ago. When in reality I’ve been back for three months. Some days are good, some days are rough. Ethiopia will forever have a piece of me. I think I’ll always want to go back, even if it’s just for a visit.

The thing I have been struggling with a lot lately, in regard to my heart being in two countries, seemed quite trivial (insignificant) to me. I almost had myself convinced I was being a little overboard with it. Until today, when I talked to a friend and fellow missionary who just returned from the field, Jordan Shelton. It was the first time I had heard said out loud what I was thinking and feeling, and it’s because Jordan is experiencing the same thing. I feel like I’m forgetting all of the language I have learned in Ethiopia.

Language connects you to a culture. We speak English in America. If you were to go to Mexico, you would have a harder time connecting with Spanish speaking people at first, especially if you are limited in your Spanish and they in their English. Finding people in Mexico who speak English gives you a sense of home, and you can’t help but be excited about speaking fluently, with no mistakes, mistranslations, or misunderstandings. You are free to speak your language.

Try to imagine speaking a language that is not Spanish, or French, or German. A language that is found in a place on the opposite side of the world; in Africa. That language probably will not be easily found in America. It is much harder to feel connected to the culture through language, because it just isn’t being used.

To not be so vague, I’ll make it personal. I learned afan Oromoo. It is spoken in Ethiopia - on the opposite side of the world. There aren’t too many people in America who can speak this language. I haven’t found anyone in Manhattan who can. Because of that, I feel like I’m becoming more and more disconnected from Ethiopia, and in my mind it’s a tragedy. Sure, I have all of my notes from our language tutor, Kalbessa. Sometimes I chat with him in afan Oromoo over Facebook chat. Don’t get me wrong, I cherish those brief conversations where I can communicate in a language that is now so dear to my heart. But it still doesn’t stop the sadness I feel when I realize the language that connects me to my friends in Ethiopia is fading faster with every passing week.

So there you have it. An update on my thoughts concerning my life in Ethiopia. 

Being a Pebble

One thing I learned in Ethiopia, probably the most difficult to learn, was how to be in the background of the battlefield instead of on the front lines. It took a while, but the Lord revealed it to me in this way:

When you drop a pebble in the water you get a ripple, then another ripple, then another ripple, and so on. You have to have something to make the initial ripple, otherwise the ripples will never be created in the first place.

While in Ethiopia I taught mainly one of the missionary’s boys. I was really discontent and unsatisfied in my ‘ministry’ because my primary ‘ministry’ was with an American boy. Over a few weeks God showed me how I was placing limits and boundaries on what it ‘ministry’ means, and how ‘missions’ is supposed to look. Day after day I would cry out to the Lord, “Why! Why am I here in Africa teaching an American boy? It makes no sense!” I was frustrated – really frustrated. Every time I would cry out to God He would soften my heart. Day after day the bitterness and the boundaries were dissipating.

One day the Lord told me, “You are the pebble. Every ripple is created from something, and you, My beloved, are the pebble to keep this ripple going.”

What?

Then He explained. If I hadn’t been teaching Ethan, Jennifer wouldn’t have been able to focus on the Home School moms all across Ethiopia. If she isn’t supporting the home school moms across Ethiopia, they would be getting burnt out and restless, not being effective in their ministries. If the moms are having a really hard time being there, the husbands wouldn’t be as effective in their ministries – which means people aren’t hearing the Gospel, and are not accepting Jesus Christ as their Savior.

Ministry is such a large, ambiguous term. It encompasses so much. I didn't know that before. I was teaching an American boy, and it was ministry. We talked about the Lord. We grew in our faith and knowledge of Him everyday. The Lord blessed us because we were seeking Him. That is ministry. Missions doesn't have to be living with another culture. My mission was to live in Africa, among Ethiopians, to teach an American boy. 

Although being at the frontlines, preaching the Gospel to the Ethiopians, watching people being saved by the dozens was something I was, dare I say, expecting, it is definitely not what God had planned for me in my time in Africa. I did get to teach and witness to young Ethiopian ladies, and it was awesome – my favorite thing I did while I was there. I have to remind myself not to be bitter about the time I didn't get to do that, and instead remember that I did, and the Lord was with us, and it was good. The most important thing was that God used me exactly the way that was needed, and His Kingdom will be furthered because of it.

“For the Lord is good, and His love endures forever.” –Psalm 100:5a

Another Amoeba?

The day to fly out of Ethiopia has finally arrived. We load our suitcases, say goodbye to the Giles family, and head into town. Before we head to the airport we have a full day ahead of us.

Our first stop: Bingham Academy. The entire drive to Bingham I was crying. So I told myself: stop crying (because we all know that works). Then I made a deal with myself: “You can cry when you see Joy Heddleston. But not before.” So we pulled into the parking lot, and I get ahold of myself. I hop out of the van and start walking. The first person I see: Joy Heddleston. I made a deal with myself, and you better believe I kept it.

We spend our time with the Bingham staff. We pray together a few times. Kait was sick, so we prayed for her. Then we went to Mallory’s piano recital. After Kait and I ran over to Joy’s apartment to say ‘Ciao!’ we loaded up and drove away from Bingham.

We decided to eat at Tivoli’s. Kait puked on the way there. My stomach started acting a little funky, but not enough to concern me. We ate dinner, except the puking Kaitlyn, and hopped back in the van. We had to stop at Sishu’s, a local restaurant with super awesome burgers, to deliver some pottery. Then came our last drive – the drive to the airport.

The drive was mostly hilarious. I was quoting Hot Rod when Rod Kimble and Kevin Powell were talking about the ‘safety word’. Rod says, “Why am I saying what what whay?” Darby, Mallory, and I could not stop laughing. We get to the airport, get all thousand bags onto carts, and say our goodbyes to the Fehllas (my hilarious and loving nickname for the Fehl family). Kait and I get our luggage checked, through security, and to our gate in no time. As we are waiting for our plane my stomach starts acting up. It’s mostly fine. Until we are about two hours from D.C. Then I start puking, and other things. My symptoms are eerily similar to last month when I had Bert, my amoeba.

After we landed in D.C. I texted Bethany to tell her I’m about to die and need to go to the doctor when we get into Indianapolis. Bethany picked us up from the airport in Indy, we grabbed some dinner, and went to the hotel. Kait and I drove to a clinic to get a prescription for Bert 2.0. Of course, it wasn’t that easy.

I am in the room, chillin’ on the bed, freezing my tail off. A nurse walks in; a young, African American woman. She takes my vitals and asks me what is going on. I told her that I was in Ethiopia for about 6 months, just got into the States earlier that day, had an amoeba last month, took metronidazole and it made me sick, and now I think I have another amoeba. Not a big deal. I just need some medicine to kill it, and I’ll be on my way. She asked me my symptoms from the metronidazole, so I told her. I became really dehydrated, weakness, slight fever, and black urine. The woman almost had a heart attack. She slapped the cabinet door, looked at me and said, “NUH! UH! NO YOU DID NOT!” Naturally, I laughed.

The doctor came in and I told him the same thing. His reaction was something else. He told me this: “You need to see a GI (gastro intestinal) specialist immediately. You’ve had this going on for over a month. You might have to have surgery and get part of your intestine taken out. You could DIE!” Naturally, I laughed. I reminded him that I had an amoeba last month and it was taken care of. He did not give me any medicine, or a prescription. He did give me information for a GI Specialist. And a stool sample kit.

Whatever was wrong is gone now, no thanks to the doctor. And CMF now has a full stool sample kit to use at their disposal. 

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 

A Drive to Town

Opening the front door of my apartment, I step out into the cool, rainy air. I look across the helicopter landing pad in the center of our compound, over the high wall with wire twisted in loops on top, to the green fields filled with crops, donkeys, cattle, and goats, and the green hills that are hidden behind a thick fog. I look to the sky to see if there is any chance of sunshine. All to my left I see clouds and fog. I look to my right and see a patch of blue sky with the sun poking through.

I step into the open, onto the wet grass, rain gently sprinkling my face body. The short walk between my apartment and the missionary’s white 12-passenger van is just enough to get a little chilled. Letting my teammate sit in the front seat, I hop in the back with six kids, ages five to sixteen. The van starts backing out of its parking place and soon we are waving at our guard as he lets us pass through our metal gate doors.

The semi-paved road is bumpy. As I look out my window there is a boy around age 12 wearing ragged clothes and lime green rubber boots with an opened red umbrella and a stick walking nonchalantly behind a flock of goats, every now and then gently motioning the stick to the right of the flock so they knew not to get any closer to the road. As we pass the boy with his goats we see a group of three girls wrapped in their beautiful white fabric covering their hair, shoulders, arms, and torsos. The van rumbles on the now broken, half paved, half gravel road forcing the van to tilt almost uncomfortably to the right. In the middle of the road there is a light brown dog lying on its stomach, scratching behind its right ear. It must not hear the van advancing towards because it continues to lay there. A gentle honk tells the dog we are coming. Casually it stands up and trots off to the side. By now there are many Ethiopian people walking along the road to go to work, or to school, or to the market. The kids see us coming and they excitedly wave their hands at us, flashing their biggest and brightest smiles at us, yelling, “Forenji! Forenji! How are you? Forenji!” in their best English. We smile and wave back as we pass them. Splashing through puddles, driving over rocks, passing a large cement building, we have reached the main road. We see a blue and white taxi van racing in our direction; he flashes his lights to let us know he is coming. After he passes we leave the bumpy half paved, half gravel road and get on the smooth, fully paved main road.

As we gain speed, I look out the window and see a new site. There is a large pile of something covered in white with little blue lines. I immediately realize it is a large pile of guts, covered in white slime with the veins running through it. I quickly look to the right and see the body of a large animal with the head still attached; it is a cow. “Ew! Did you see that?!” exclaimed one of the kids, half giggling. Chuckling to myself at her comment, I see yet another cow that has come to the same fate. There must be a holiday tomorrow, we concluded. As we continue on passing huts, little shops, vegetable stands, elderly women carrying large sacks on their back, other people carrying stacks of the round bread, injera, on their head, we see ahead of us a large dump truck is slowing down traffic. It is a ‘no passing’ zone. Everyone knows those laws only apply when there is a cop visible, so we, along with the other vehicles, scoot right along past the dump truck. We follow the road, now on a gentle grade, with two green hills on either side and a few goats sprinkled among the dewy grass, around a corner, around another corner, and to a bridge with the dirty brown water below, the beautiful green hillside sprinkled with different colored clothes and linens laid out to dry in the sun that is now forcing its way through the clouds.

We pull into the city limits, weaving through the people, the animals, and the other cars, and come to the first roundabout. Traffic is heavy, the most cars I’ve ever seen. Blue and white taxi vans are trying to shove their way in, a little black car is sick of waiting and honks twice, up ahead there is a long red city bus waiting to enter the roundabout. Slowly, we inch our way forward and finally make it to the front of the line. We see a large puddle of water that no one will drive through. We enter the circle, head straight to the puddle, drive through it, and exit the roundabout. Watching out for the random teenage boy that ran in the road not paying attention, we see vegetable stands, clothes shops, people roasting corn, taxi drivers laughing while they wait for their vans to fill, soldiers casually carrying M-16’s joking and laughing with their fellow soldiers.

After ten more minutes of driving along the highway passing cars and pedestrians, we pull up to the large, brown gate of Bingham Academy. As the guard opens the gate door he smiles warmly and excitedly waves to us as we pass him. We go up the hill, pass the guard house, down the hill, and find a parking spot. The van backs into its new spot and turns off. Everyone unbuckles, opens their doors, and files out. We go to our different places for the day until we are reunited once again at the white, 12-passenger van. 

Languages of Love

Some of you may know, and some of you may not, what I mean by “love language”. For those who haven’t heard it before it’s pretty easy to figure out by breaking up the phrase and looking at what each word means. Love. Language. Cool. Now everyone is pretty much on the same page.

There is a book written on the five love languages called The Five Love Languages. The five are: quality time, receiving gifts, words of affirmation, physical touch, and acts of service. (You can find all of this at 5lovelanguages.com, so go there, check it out, and take the little quiz. I just did it in like 5 minutes.)

These are true. Think about it. When do you feel most appreciated, most loved, least depressed, etc.? Is it spending time with someone? When someone gives you a gift? When someone encourages you through words? When someone shows love or appreciation through physical touch? When someone does something for you?

For me, quality time is my top love language, with words of affirmation second. When I think about times when I know my friends love or appreciate me, it is almost always because they have hung out with me or given me an encouraging note (or some other type of word of encouragement). I know that quality time is my primary love language because when my best friends do not make time to hang out or spend time with me I am hurt and begin to think that we really weren’t that good of friends to begin with. I know that words of affirmation are my second because I cherish the encouraging notes friends give me, or the encouraging words from people; and because I get hurt by some things that people say, or when people are not encouraging me. Which reminds of something I read: “Better is open rebuke than hidden love” Proverbs 27:5.

Now, I know that I have family and friends all over the place. So the ‘quality time’ has to change a little bit. It is not possible for me to spend time with each friend or family member in Virginia, Kentucky, Kansas, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, and Washington. Especially while I’m in Africa! This is where I say Praise God for technology. Phone calls, text messages, emails, Facebook, and Skype are all ways that I can get my ‘quality time’ with my peeps. Sure, it means going out of our way to sit on the phone, sit at the computer, etc. But it is so worth it.

Think of how you feel most loved. What happens when you aren’t getting that quality time, or that word of encouragement, or that (you fill in the blank)? You start feeling sad. You start being hard on yourself. You think to yourself, “I just want one person to ….”. Now do you see what I’m getting at?

Pick a person or two that you are really close to: boyfriend, girlfriend, spouse, best friend, sister, brother, etc. Think of what their love language might be. Now start showing them love in that way, even when it means going out of your way. When you show them love with their love language it will make your relationship better. They will feel loved, and you will love knowing that you made them feel that way! And, I’ll bet that they will go out of their way to speak your love language.

Oooh. But what happens when you score a 2 on physical touch and your person scored a million on physical touch? (I scored a 2, and people are very, very touchy. Especially in Ethiopia.) Let me tell you what you do: you get over it. Chances are, someone is getting over themselves and going out of their way to love you how you receive it best. If the other person knows you are not a physical touch (or whatever else) person and you do go out of your way to do it, they will appreciate it all the more.

My challenge to you is to not only find out what your love language(s) is/are, but to find out the love languages of those you love or care for; and do something about it. Relationships are two way streets. It’s not all about you, and it’s not all about them. Going out of your way to show someone you love/care for/appreciate them is a good thing. It will not always be reciprocated, but that does not matter. Keep doing it. Persevere through those times. “The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)

I would love to hear stories from you guys! Whether it’s with a person of the same love language, or different. 

Back in Addis Ababa

We came back to Addis Ababa last Sunday! Addis Ababa is different than where we were in a few ways. For example, Addis is a lot bigger than Nekempte. We are also with a different family. We actually are living with two families on the compound.  There are no godees (horses pulling wooden carts). The taxis are a little different. And we are not in the heart of Addis, we are a little bit out of the city.

Just so you can kind of get an idea of what our living situation looks like, here’s a brief description. The compound is a piece of land, but I don’t know how much. I’m not even going guess because I don’t even know how big an acre is. Therefore, the compound is one some land. The compound is surrounded by a gate. We have guards at the doors of the gate. We have a small storage unit. There are a couple sheds, two houses, and an apartment building. The apartment building has 4 apartments and a conference room. Kait and I are staying in one of the apartments. On either side of the building are the two houses.

The two families we are living with are great; the Fehl’s and the Giles’. The Fehl’s have four kids: Addison (16), Mallory (13), Darby (11), and Ethan (9). The Gile’s have three boys: Danny (7), Ryan (4 I think), and Casey (3). The adults names are Adrian and Jen Fehl and Marshall and Rachel Giles.

Ethan is my new student. He is finishing up 3^rd grade and starting 4^th grade. He is a lot of fun! Full of energy, but it’s never a dull moment with him. We take a couple breaks throughout our day to have a snack and play a game. We have completed our first week of school, and have many more to come!

Prayer requests:

-Our time here in Addis

-Ethan and I have a fun time together

-Kait as she starts teaching at Bingham Academy soon

-We have a homeschool conference coming up and Kait and I are in charge of like 45 kids! Pray for no injuries, no lost kids (just kidding, we won’t lose any; but seriously), but that we would have a lot of energy and have a blast with the kiddos!

-We have a team meeting in a few weeks. That means all of our teammate from Ethiopia will be traveling to Addis. Pray for safe travels, productivity, and lots of fun. I think I’ll be watching the kids, so for that, too!

I think that about sums up what I wanted to say! I would love to hear about your summers and how God is moving in your lives. Please let me know how I can be praying for you!

Blessings!!

Breaking Cultural Norms

I was privileged to teach at our last Girls Time in Nekempte. About a week and half before I taught God laid it on my heart to teach them about when Jesus washed His disciples feet (found in John 13:1-17). Along with this teaching would be Kait and I putting into action Jesus’ teaching. But I knew that us touching their feet was probably not culturally acceptable. When I tried painting their toenails they were very adamant against it. (After persisting and telling them it’s what we do in America, they let me!) So I knew that we would be breaking cultural norms and possibly even be rejected.

I talked to my awesome host missionaries, Steve and Doretha, about whether or not it would be okay to give it a shot. They both told me to go ahead. So I continued to pray about it. A lot.

I felt strongly I should do it. So I started to study. And I prayed. Kait and I talked about the meaning of some passages. With the Lord’s help, I was able to get everything in order and written down. Finally Friday came. It was the day to wash the girls feet.

As usual Doretha, Rowan, Kait, and I loaded up and started the walk/bajaj (taxi) ride to the church. We had a bucket, a pitcher and some good smelling body wash from Bath and Body Works. Of course I forgot a towel, but no matter. We walked into the beautiful new church building to see our girls excited to see us; quite the blessing. We sit down, pray together, talk about our blessings from the day, then get started with the lesson.

I was shaking from being so nervous. I have taught these girls multiple times throughout the month, teaching them was not the problem. We read the Scripture; the girls said they had heard it before. I asked them if it would be okay if Kait and I served them by washing their feet.

Silence.

I reminded them of Peter’s reaction. I told them the disciples feet were probably way dirtier than their feet. I told them it would bless Kait and me if they would allow us to serve them in that way. I asked again, “Would it be okay if we washed your feet?”

Finally one girl responded. She timidly nodded her head and whispered, “Yes.” Excitedly I said, “Yes?!” A few more of the girls nodded and smiled. I asked for a volunteer to go first. No one volunteered. Doretha suggested the girl who had shown great leadership qualities. I said, “Adamay! You can go first!” She got up, came over, took off her shoes, and put her feet in the cold water. Kait and I washed her feet. We finished, and the next girl came. Then the next, and the next, and the next. None of our girls rejected the invitation.

We finished and Kait sat down. Doretha came over and we started washing Kait’s feet. We were almost finished when all of our girls got up and walked over to us. They said, “Kayla. Ta’e.” Which means, “Kayla. Sit down.” So I sat on the bench. They washed my feet. Then Kait’s. Then Doretha’s.

God was definitely moving. Moving in a bigger way than I could ever have imagined. They even dried our feet with their skirts.

After we were all finished we sat down together again and I asked them what they thought and felt about that teaching. Their responses left me speechless.

“I am blessed.”

“No one has ever done this before.”

“I have never seen this kind of humbleness in the church before.”

“I will never forget this.”

“We will always remember this, and do it with others.”

God doesn’t just answer prayer. He goes beyond what you are asking. When you obey Him, He will bless you immensely. Praise God for His faithfulness, His wisdom, and His love. This day will be a day I won’t forget (unless I suffer from memory loss). But in all seriousness, my faith in God just went one step deeper. I have never loved the Lord more. He is good. He is faithful. His love endures forever. 

*All praise goes to God. I was just doing what I was told! He worked through me, and opened the girls hearts and minds. Without His work, this would have been a disaster.