Homeward Bound

     Blog posts from the airport... Some of my favorites! A symbol of what has been and what is to come. 

     Today I write from the airport in Venice, Italy. Just 8 short days ago I left Ethiopia full of every emotion imaginable. Sadness over leaving the children I love so much. Joy over the people waiting on the other side of my journey. Fear over the unknowns that adjusting to life back "home" hold. Feeling overwhelmed by how quickly time passed and what all God allowed me to be a part of. And that is just to name a few. 

     When I left a year ago, this moment seemed like an eternity away. Walking through security, looking back and not seeing my family was the moment it all began. I was doing this and there was no turning back. Now, a year later, I look back in awe of how far God has brought me. I was excited from day 1, but nothing compares to the deep love I carry with me now. A love for the people I met, children I loved, and experiences I have had. Topping the list of course is the children. 

     But now, it's time to return home. Time to figure out what life looks like for me now as I transition from a 3rd world country into living life back in the states. There are still plenty of unknowns, plenty of hurdles to overcome, and plenty of stories to share... But I am excited. I don't know what to expect in the coming days, weeks, and months. It could be an incredibly smooth transition or could be far more difficult than I am anticipating. However, as I sit here waiting for my flight to board, knowing that THIS IS IT, I cannot help but be overjoyed. When I get off the plane, my Mom and Dad will be waiting for me, and whatever ups and downs await me beyond the airport doors will not matter, because in that moment all will be right. 

     This is it friends. My time in Ethiopia has drawn to a close... Though the journey continues. 

Goodbyes

     Today was the day... The long awaited and dreaded day of saying goodbye to the children that have lit up my world and warmed my heart for the last year. This week did not fully go as planned, but when I went in to say goodbye to them I could not have been more blessed.

      On Thursday I woke up with a sore throat that quickly worsened. Turned out it was strep throat. I was NOT anticipating my last two days at the orphanage (Friday and Saturday) to be thrown off because I was sick, but we don't get to pick when we get these things. Thankfully I started antibiotics on Friday and by today am feeling MUCH more like myself. 

       This morning I took a bit of time to go to the orphanage. I needed to say goodbye. Needed to hold each of these children one last time. Give them hugs, kisses, and remind them that I love them so very much, and yet Jesus loves them even more. It was a sweet time. I anticipated an emotional farewell, but instead their smiles were contagious and warmed my heart as they always do. Such young lives, but such a great impact. 

       To be fully in the moment this morning was a blessing. To hold these gifts from God, to thank Him for who they are and who they will become, and to look into the hearts of the children who have taught me the true meaning of love brought such a deep blessing into my day. 

        I cannot lie. As I sit here with my thoughts, it is slowly hitting me that that was indeed goodbye. That my time with these children is over, and I will likely never see them again on this side of heaven. But it was worth it! A thousand times worth it. Because the hurt that I am feeling now is nothing compared to the joy that their little lives filled my heart with. I'm not afraid to grieve... I'm more afraid of what would happen to these precious children if nobody took the time to love them. I saw God actively at work in them--providing homes, restoring life, granting joy... I leave them sad, but thankful that they are, always have been, and always will be in the loving arms of the Most High! 

       Tomorrow morning (Monday) I head up to Addis Ababa. From there, I will fly out VERY late on Wednesday night. Please be in prayer for safe travels during all phases of my return home! And as always, I will do my best to keep you updated. 

Lost in Others

     

     I love this quote because it could not be more true! This year, I have had the opportunity to serve. To be the hands and feet of Christ, sent to this place for a purpose. I came here to serve others, and through it I have learned time and time again what real joy is. 

     Real joy is serving somebody who can never repay you. Real joy is knowing that you are exactly where God desires for you to be. Real joy is living life so far beyond your comfort zone and yet feeling that that is where you were meant to be. 

     The life that I have stateside is wonderful. It's full of love and laughter, happiness and joy. However, this year I discovered a deeper happiness--one that came not from the quality of my life but rather from the quality of others. I learned what it means to live. I experienced what it is to love with my whole heart and live beyond myself. 

    The children that God placed in my life this year are young. Most under two years old. The reality is that they will not remember me, they won't know about the days we spent laughing and loving. At first, that was hard for me, but I realized something in it. I realized that the ripple affect of this love in their lives will continue on. They may not remember, but they are changed. As I go, I go with their faces forever etched on my heart, forever a part of me. Ready to share their stories and grow the number of prayer warriors lifting up their souls and their earthly lives to the ever-faithful Father. 

    This year, God placed young lives before me and called me to share His love with them. To hold them close, pray over them, and tell them each and every day that they are loved. In two weeks, my days with them will be over, but my opportunity to lift them up to the God who holds their lives will live on. In leaving Ethiopia, I am ever so thankful for prayer. Thankful that while I will no longer spend my days with a lap full of these beautiful children, I can spend them with my heart full of love for them praying that each of these children will find their place at the feet of Jesus. 

It's Complicated...

     I am just 2.5 short weeks away from leaving Ethiopia. Not going to lie, I am a little nervous. I am nervous because not a cell in my being is ready to say goodbye to these children. I am nervous because, as excited as I am to be home, I don't quite fit in there anymore. I am nervous because I have an entire year's worth of life changing experiences that nobody can fully understand. 

     I think the easy part is behind me. Leaving America and crossing the ocean to serve for a year in Ethiopia was nothing compared to my fears in returning into the unknowns of home. They say every returning missionary experiences the reestablishment process differently. The hard part for me, being a planner, is that I will not know what to expect until I am in the midst of life stateside again, taking joys and struggles one day at a time. 

How can you pray?

• As I start setting dates to present at churches and committing to different speaking engagements, pray that God would place the right words on my heart. 
• As I take in my final 2 weeks with the kids at the orphanage, pray that my love will overflow in greater ways than ever before and that I will be able to leave saying "Lord, I gave it my all... I have nothing left". 
• Pray for my family as they prepare to welcome me home, as life yet again changes for all of us. 
• Pray for my heart as I deal with the ups and downs of this unknown path I am embarking on, and that through my greatest joys and moments of deep sorrows I would find myself deeply rooted in Christ. 

     There is a lot that lies ahead in the next 2.5 weeks. I am frightened and excited, joyful and yet sad, and eager and yet unsure. Thankful for all of you who are prayerfully walking with me in this. 

How Ethiopia Broke Me...

     Today I returned to the orphanage. The minute I walked in the door I was hit simultaneously with such a full heart and yet such a brokenness. It took time for the children to warm up again--after 3 months away they had to decide if this white girl was somebody they could trust. But by the time I left today my name was being repeated like a broken record and my arms, lap, and heart were full. I love this place. Yes, it is an orphanage. Yes there are hurting children there. Yes, I wish places like these did not have to exist... I wish all children could stay happy and healthy with their parents where they would grow up loved and nurtured. But that is not reality. If I could move in there, have these children crawl into bed with me every night and wake up to their faces each morning, I think I would do it. Nowhere else in my life have I been able to pour out so much of Christ's love and see Him work in such huge ways! Nowhere else on earth do I feel so close to my creator, and so called to bring the troubles that lie within the compound walls to His feet knowing He is the only one who can transform these children. 

     These children, before I even get into the compound are calling my name. Toddlers who know my knock...See my shoes under the gate...Know that after breakfast, Hannah comes. Their lives, their treasured little souls, rejuvenate me in ways nothing else ever has before. 

     But being back today was not all sunshine and bliss. I was reminded yet again of the brokenness in our world. My little miss with a little less sparkle in her eyes. A 1.5kg baby boy abandoned on the streets Friday afternoon. I just want to fix it. To give up everything and take in these babies. To help strengthen just one more tiny soul. To extend my trip just one more month. To change just one more life. But then I am reminded that God did not NEED me for any of the things I have been a part of this year. But He graciously saw my heart willing and desiring to make a difference and He invited me along to be a part of what He was doing. 

     Since arriving in Ethiopia, my innocence has been shattered. My ability to simply exist in this world is gone. You see, in coming here I have been broken. Broken in a good way, but broken nevertheless. Broken for the lives of children who are thrown out. Broken for the hearts of children who will never feel a deep bond and security of a loving mother and father and a nurturing home. Broken for the reality that this world is about as far from perfect as things get, and yet I cannot change it. I cannot change the laws, provide a home for every child, and ensure every baby is loved. I sit here some nights wondering if by some stretch of the imagination I can. And believe me if there was a way I would find it. But in these times when I am reminded of how small I am in this world, it takes me to a deeper place of trusting God who is BIGGER than the brokenness of this world. 

     I wish I could fix it all. I really do. But I am left clinging to this quote and trusting that while I was here I did everything I could for the lives God placed in my path... 

"This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities. We may never see the results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders, ministers not messiah, prophets of a future that is now our own, empowered by the Spirit who draws us onward." 

"You've Got Mail"

     While packing up my suitcases to move on to my 4th and final house in Ethiopia, I came across each and every card and letter that has been sent my way during the past year. O-N-E   H-U-N-D-R-E-D cards and letters. I knew my stack continued to grow, but this was the 1st time I had actually counted the sweet notes from you all back in the states. When I reached the triple digits I was overwhelmed. You all are so much of what keeps me going strong when times get tough. And those cards and letters... That's only the mail that came across the ocean. That's not counting the countless messages, care packages, e-mails, and texts I have gotten. Then there are the prayers that were sent up on my behalf... All I can say is THANK YOU; you all are the most amazing support.

     I have a slight fear that the Ethiopian postal service will not know what to do once my constant flow of mail coming and going draws to a close. Hopefully the whole economic system of Ethiopia does not come crashing down. :) 

To Everything a Season

Today, I am writing asking for special prayer. 

     Tomorrow, the baby girl I have been caring for will transition into her next home at the orphanage. As you can imagine, we have both bonded and grown very close to one another, so this transition will not be an easy one. 

     When she came into my world she was so tiny and fragile, desperately in need of love and steady care. That is where God called me into the picture. For the past few months she has received just that and has thrived. God brought each of us such a blessing when He merged our two lives, but now the time has come when our journey together must come to a close. As much as I try to detach and mentally prepare myself for what tomorrow will bring, it is not easy! It is not easy to think about dropping her off, it is not easy to think about going to sleep without her tiny snores beside me, it is not easy to think about waking up and not having her "good morning" smiles to greet me. 

     The Bible says "to everything there is a season...". What a beautiful season I was gifted with when God brought this little girl into my life. What a beautiful chance He gave me to be faithful and be part of sparing a life. Looking into the remainder of my time here, I will still have the opportunity to see her every day as I return to the orphanage. It is a far cry from having her safe and secure under my roof, but I am thankful for it nonetheless.  

 Tomorrow, please be in deep prayer for the steps that lay ahead of Little Miss and myself. My heart will shatter into a million pieces as I hand her off, even though I know this is what has to happen. Walking out of the gate without her in my arms will likely be the most difficult thing I have to face here--and to be honest I am terrified of the emotion that tomorrow will bring. Be in even deeper prayer for her as she enters total and complete newness. Pray that she develops healthy attachments, that she is deeply loved, that she would remain strong and healthy, that her bio-family would return for her, and that the time that God gave me to be a part of her life would forever change her. 

Past, Present, Future

     You may have noticed that I have taken on a more reflective mindset recently... That is because with less than 7 short weeks before this chapter in Ethiopia comes to a close, I find myself looking back on all that God has brought me through this year. Some of my greatest joys and deepest sorrows have taken place over the last 365 days as God has taught me what it is to love without limits and serve selflessly. 

     Even reflecting back on the year, preparing for what it will look like to close this chapter and open the next, I still see the great deal that remains ahead of me in the next 6.5 weeks. As I look at what is to come, I cannot help but see the extreme hurt and abundant joy that I am preparing to experience. Thoughts of allowing my little girl to enter he new life, away from me. The excruciating idea of saying "goodbye" to the boys that have filled my heart with their smiles, hugs, and laughter. The reality that I will hop on a plane in a few short weeks not knowing what God has in store for my future beyond Ethiopia. Now, you'd think with the story and unknowns accompanying my journey to Ethiopia I would be assured and content in the unknown, yet I remain human and wonder if I will ever be able to come back. 

     Even still, right along the hurt and sadness that will embody the coming weeks, there is abundant joy for what is to come. Joy at the thought of being back with my family. Joy in a year spent right where God wanted me, full of memories, love, and transformation. Joy in the thought of going into a grocery store and buying any food my heart desires. Joy in the ease of life and comforts of home. Joy in knowing clean feet are just weeks away. Joy in the fulfillment that comes with knowing that dreams can become reality and nothing is impossible with God. 

     Right now, as I find myself living simultaneously in the past, present, and future, I am loving life. Loving what I have been through, loving where I am now, and loving what I see ahead. If only I could figure out how to have it all, forever and always. And yet, that is not what God called me to. For this year, He called me to Ethiopia. But not forever... At least not that I know of yet. And when I leave this place and step both feet back onto American soil God will have a new mission for me. This time, something a little less extravagant than spending a year in a developing Third World country, and yet equally as important in my walk with Him and equally as important in bringing the Kingdom of God just a little bit closer to earth.  

A Sweet Sabbath

     What a fabulous sabbath day it has been! Today were the Ethiopian elections where they voted on a Prime Minister to serve the next 5 years in office. For us feringes, that meant laying low and staying home while the chaos ensued around us. Soddo stays pretty calm in general so I am sure there was nothing to worry about, but the caution remained the same. 

     Mid-morning Little Miss and I went over to our neighbor's to enjoy Sunday tea. One conversation led to another and it was 3:30pm by the time we left. It is amazing to me how God brings people into our lives in the most unexpected ways to us, and yet totally masterminded and planned in advance by Him. These dear friends have walked beside me for quite a few months serving as mentors, fellow missionaries, neighbors, and the dearest of friends. I count knowing them to be a blessing, and am so thankful that the next step for both of us leave us only a few hours apart. I see some road trips in my future! 

     This afternoon I started packing. Yes, PACKING! Next month, the month of June, I will move to my 4th and final house in my Ethiopian stay. The compound I live on now will be pretty empty and being a bit closer to town and nearer the missionary community brought on my decision to uproot one final time here. Missionaries who have headed home for the summer willingly opened up their house for me, and so I will wrap up my stay there. But that means packing up. The house I am in now (house #3) was my first ever home of my very own. Not many people get to say that their first house was in Africa, but I do! However, come Thursday I will say goodbye to this house, goodbye to life on the Tarapaza compound, and goodbye to the purple couches I have come to love. And with that I will be saying hello to my last full month here, hello to life a bit closer to town, and hello to hot showers! With 3 days and counting, Mission Move is a go.

     Caution: this side note contains material that may not be suitable for those with a weak stomach or who have a strong aversion to bugs. The only downside to my day... I just found a cockroach in my chocolate bumbalino. Guess they really were too good to be true. 

Life of Contradictions

     For the past 10.5 months I have struggled to describe what life is like here. Struggled to explain the mountain highs and valley lows. Struggled to accept that feelings of loneliness, homesickness, or defeat were real, and yet were taking root at the same time as feelings of belonging and victory. You see, my life here is the epitome of contradictory. 

     The physical environment of Ethiopia is one huge paradox: amazing, breathtaking beauty met against immense poverty and filth. My life--especially me emotions--hang in the balance between loving my life here and wondering what in the world I was thinking taking on something so much bigger than I am. And yet, admitting the down sides to life here somehow made me feel like I was affirming the doubters, implying that I couldn't do what I set out to do, or even somehow sharing that I was not happy in God's plan. And yet now looking back I realize that was pride and the reality is the complete opposite. The moment when I accepted that all of these feelings and emotions were real was the moment that I could embrace the good with the bad. Then suddenly I could accept that the happiness that overtook me ran just as deep as my occasional loneliness in a world so different from my own. The certainty about being exactly where God wanted me was solid, and yet just as firm was the fact that I sometimes wondered what on earth I was doing here. The frustration that threatened to take control of me at times was just as true as the unbounded joy I felt at other times. The truth is... I love my life here, but compared to the life I left behind, this one is hard!  

     There is something freeing about accepting the contradictions that have come to define my life in Ethiopia. Embracing them has allowed me to feel an indescribable assurance that I am indeed where God wants me for this season. Through the ups and downs He is molding me and shaping me into the person He desires for me to be. Though contradictory and far from anything I have experienced ever before, I am assured beyond all understanding that this is the place I was born to be for this season... And that is a good feeling. This life that challenges me each and every day is the same life that brings me the ultimate fulfillment--fulfillment in Christ.  

This Day in History

     On this day in history, one year ago to be exact, my best friend Melita and I ate Ethiopian food for the 1st time. At the time we asked the waiter what the most commonly eaten food in Ethiopia was and that is how we placed our order. Doro Wat. At the time I had NO idea how precious this dish was (the yummiest Ethiopian food of all and served only on special holidays), and I had no earthly idea what the other foods were that were sitting on my injera roll. Now I look back at what we ate the day and enjoy reminiscing over how new it was back then. Totally and completely foreign. Now, a year later, I can cook half the foods that stared back at me that day and thoroughly enjoy any invitation to eat Doro Wat with the locals.

      What a difference one year can make. It feels like so very much has happened since then. At that point I was still fundraising. Still had not been to my Global Outreach training. Still had not booked my plane ticket. Now, my time here is nearly over and I am left wondering where the time went. Thanks Melita, for being brave and trying new foods with me on this day in history. You rock! 

A Day in the Life

     As I prepare my next newsletter, church update, and continue on my blogging journey, I find it so very difficult to come up with things to write about. After nearly a year of life in Ethiopia, there is such a normalcy to the ins and outs of my day. Nothing seems "odd" now, and cultural differenes are just a part of day to day life. And yet, I stop and think that for me this is all just life, but for those of you who are connecting stateside, there is absolutely nothing normal about the life I am living. So, allow me to share a day in the life of Hannah...

     During this season, my day starts around 5am when my sweet little miss decides it is time to start the day (cannot complain too much, she is sleeping 8 or 9 hours straight at night). Time to get up and make a bottle, feed, then lay her on my chest in hopes of a few more hours of her squirmy sleep. Today was a victory... Back to sleep until 8:30am! The morning continues with baby cooing as I get ready for the day. 

     There is nothing quiet about our days... From inside the house we hear the blairing local churches that begin a call to prayer or even just start with some music. 5:45am is the key time to start, but they continue on and off throughout the day. I hear Mulu outside who comes to cut my grass for his sheep who just had triplets. The local boys play soccer and marbles not too far from my front door and their shouts and hollers surrounding the game rarely cease. The funny part is I never know which game they are playing because they get just as into both of them. There are the knocks of girls looking for housework, boys selling eggs, or friendly neighbors stopping by to chat. The birds sing, dogs bark, and donkey carts roll along the road behind my house with squeky wheels and clinking water cans. Around noon the kids return from school so their blissful conversations fill the air. There is the skitter of the creatures living upstairs, small limbs falling on my tin roof, and water leaking from my tank outside. Somehow though, these sounds have come to be a part of my day. An expeded part of routine. 

     Sometime mid morning I put little miss in the frontpack and we stroll off down the red dusty dirt road into town. Off to get our fresh bread for the day. It's about a mile stroll to the end of the dirt road and shops where we buy our fresh bread every few days. Today, as I walked passed the shops looking for the type of bread I like best a boy came up to me... "Hannah, one birr?" This is a boy I know well from my walks to and from town. He has the biggest coffee brown eyes and warm smile. I replied to his plea for money (only the thousandth I had heard that morning) with an ishy (which means "ok" in Amharic). I held out my hand, pointed to my palm, and said "One birr." He seemed to get the joke as a grin took root, and needless to say he stopped asking for money. 

     I found the shop I liked and stepped inside. Two small children sat behind the counter with their older brother. After greeting them I placed my order. Just then a giant rat scurried up a pole in the back wall and into the ceiling. ICK! Rats, in my bread suke. It's ok, I told myself... He was not actually IN the bread cabinet. And with that we had our bread, paid our birr, and were on our way home. Making a quick stop by the lady selling avocados on the side of the road, we are back on our way. Back down the rocky, dusty, dirt road. Along the way children swarm, and by the time I reach my compound I have accrued quite the mob of children. 

     The days are pretty relaxed. I make lunch, little miss takes a nap, and I usually spend that time reading or writing. Cleaning up the house. Prepping for dinner. Occasionally we go next door to our neighbors for chatting and tea. The evenings come, the sun goes down, the air catches a little extra chill, and we settle in. By 8:00pm my girl is usually ready for bed. Prayers, songs, and a story sent by a sweet friend all have become part of our nighttime routine. Then snuggles. Always snuggles! As her eyes grow heavey and she slowly falls off to sleep, my mind opens the floodgates and thoughs start racing. Thoughts of the day, thoughts of what is to come, thoughts of my past and my future. With sweet baby snores beside me, this is my time. With another day behind me, this is when I find God. And as conversations with Him lend way to heavey eyes and eventually sleep, another day is done. 

     You see my friends, for this season, this is my life. It is normal. The rats running up and down in the bread shop. The early morning baby smiles and afternoon boys outside the door. The mobs of children along our walk. The donkeys and sheep I avoid running into along the way. The dirt that stains my feet and the rocks I trip over. The ladies selling produce along the way. And the hyenias that howel announcing the start of night. This is my "normal". This is a day in the life of this white girl embracing life in the hills of Ethiopia... 

Send Me

     I have been so blessed in my time here--even more so than I deserve. But I can tell you this much... It is not because of anything I did, but rather because I serve a God of grace who accepted my willing and obedient heart. The love that I have for the children at the orphanage and along the streets is not a love that I could have created of my own doing; it was God given and came from the overflowing love that He has filled my life with. 

     In coming to Ethiopia, I had a degree of qualification for working with and loving these young children, but to a large degree I was not at all qualified for the work that was ahead of me. I never studied cross-cultural ministries, I simply fell in love with it. I had no experience with orphans or social work, and the extent of my medical capabilities reached just about as far as the closest box of bandaids and tube of Neosporin. And yet God looked down upon me and saw something He could use: He saw a willingness to serve.  

     I have learned throughout this year, as I prepped and landed on the mission field, that something magical happens when we say "Yes, Lord." God starts moving in ways we never could have dreamed of. It was as if, by simply offering myself to God He began doing things in me, through me, and around me that could only be explained by His faithfulness even in this fallen world.  

Changing Seasons

There are seasons to mission work, just like there are seasons to life. Right now, I find myself in the most enjoyable season yet. Though I have many challenging days ahead that will test both my faith and strength, this season suits me. 

Two months from now I will be stateside. The chapter in my life lived in Ethiopia will be in the past and a new chapter will begin. Two months. That is how long I have to drink up each and every moment here, that is how long I have left to be transformed by this experience, and that is how long I have left to do what God has placed before me on this side of the world. 

Each season has it's ups and downs. But now, with two months to go, I feel like I am in a constant state of reflection. I have just enough days left that it is not overwhelming. I am close enough to the end that I am not experiencing even the slightest bit of homesickness. For that I am grateful. I am also close enough to the end that I am constantly feeling more challenged than ever to appreciate the now, the moment that God has placed me in. 

When I started this journey, I thought these feeling would never come. It seemed like a year might as well have been a lifetime commitment. That's not a bad thing, but I so often found myself taking the moments for granted. Wishing parts of them away so that I could be back with my family. But as you would assume, now that each day seems to fly by faster than the last, I am willing time to slow down because what lies ahead of me does not seem nearly as impossible. I feel like that is part of what God desired to teach me in this year though. He wanted me to enter what felt like the impossible so that He could be glorified in the wonder of possibility. He wanted me to step beyond my comfort zone so I could both grow and lean on Him in new and undiscovered ways. He wanted me to leave the norm not to change the whole world, but to make a difference for Him. 

I have said time and time again, at the end of this year my one desire is to feel God say to me, "Well done my good and faithful servant." I still have a lot ahead of me, but I hope that even up until this point I have fulfilled what God has asked of me, placed before me, and entrusted me with... Because this year, this not-so-normal path I have chosen, is purely because I love Jesus and this is what He asked me to do. 

Safari at Last

Wordless Wednesday... Went on a safari over the weekend. It was the most amazing experience. Rather than try to put it into words, I will let the pictures do the talking. Enjoy! 

Only in Ethiopia

   I am just about to begin my 10th month in Ethiopia, and with that I am left thinking about how different my life here is. Often times I am simply left to laugh at the things I do here that I never expected. Enjoy a laugh along with me...

Only in Africa would I...

• Remove an acrylic nail with dentil floss
• Take baby wipe "baths" for over a week straight
• Make my own yogurt, tortillas, bagels, and hummus, among other things
• Paint my nails regularly in an effort to hide the dirt
• Go for a month without electricity...and water...with a newborn! 
• Eat mangos 3 meals a day without shame
• Pay 20 birr ($1) to have my house swept and moped
• Haul water and live in a mud house
• Be living 7 years behind people in the US, and yet remain 7 hours ahead of them
• Draw excessive attention while simply living my life--occasionally it feels like I am an animal at the zoo
• See a child and think, "Hasn't he thrown a rock at me before?" 
• Embrace a life of such simplicity and fine such pure joy and happiness in it!

   This is my life. Some days are tough. Others are purely draining. I'd be lying if I said some days weren't. However, each day brings about its own rewards and beautiful moments. From time to time I even have to pinch myself to be sure this life is real: living my dream, the one that brought me to Africa! 

Let the Children Come

This week my heart is so full! 

Yesterday, on my way to Bible study at the local hospital, I passed a little boy in town. He looked SO familiar, just like one of the toddlers from the orphanage! Though I did not know if he had a home or not since I had not been since little miss came into my life, I was still convinced this was him. The boy I saw was happy, full of life, and complete in the joy of belonging.

Today, I went with a friend to the orphanage for a bit. God has been so good! After not being there for nearly 2 months, they have totally transformed! Many more of the children have been adopted into families, and those that are still in the home look so wonderful! They have all grown, and those that were "babies" before are now crawling around quickly enough to keep up with the big kids. And the best part... They still knew my name when I walked in! 

The little boy I saw in town was indeed a boy from the orphanage placed with a forever family! My heart swelled even more knowing it really was him! God sees these children. Even though they are orphans and abandoned by the people that are supposed to love them most, He watches out for them and provides for their every need. 

Not being with the boys every day has been tough, I missed them even more than I realized. However, today as I spent time with them again, I was reminded of the gift that they are in my life--gifts from God with a purpose and a special place in this world. Their starts may not be "typical" starts to life, but I have full faith that God saved each of these children's lives for a purpose! 

A God of Faithfulness

     Faithful and constant. Two words that have come to describe God for me this year. But I am not the only one who has experienced God in this way over the last year...

     My younger brother, Noah, shared his faith story this past Sunday at church for Youth Sunday. He sent me a copy earlier in the week. All I can say is WOW! He talked about how he has lost several people in his life this year, relationships changed, and he found himself feeling lonely and discouraged. One after another, some of the most important relationships in his life took on a totally new light: marriage, a foreign country, death... However, the amazing part of this story that both melted my heart and caused it burst with pride was how Noah found a deeper relationship with Christ through the losses. He shared that he felt God speaking this transformational truth into his life, "Yes, you've lost several people in your life, but I'm still here. Am I not enough? Why is your happiness based on those around you and not on Me, who has promised to never leave you nor forsake you?" W.O.W. 

     When I first read his sermon, I was simply lost in the joy of knowing my brother's heart had been captured by God in a very real way. But as I have read it since then, the truth that God spoke into his life has been something that has challenged me. 

     My time here is flying by faster than I ever could have imagined. And all the while, the only thing that I can count on as normal is that there is no normalcy! As soon as I get settled and things become routine, the game changes and suddenly I am called to serve somewhere else. In that, it is easy to attempt to grasp onto those around me, those that the Lord has me serving for this period of time, for my happiness and joy. Being a part of these lives has been transformational, and each experience that God has gifted me with He has also used to refine me and work within me. But the time will come that these relationships will draw to an end, and when that time comes, my hope is that I can remember the truth that was spoken into Noah's life this year... Joy in a faithful and constant God. 

     Right now it is easy to find that joy and fullness in Christ. After all, I am living my dream surrounded by amazing people that God has gifted me with for this season. But the real test will come when I return to the states and face the bittersweet of ending one chapter to start the next. 

When I Took a Bus

This past weekend, my friend Jodi and I set off for a few days away in Awassa. Awassa is essentially the Addis Ababa of southern Ethiopia. With everything from stop lights to an ice cream shop, Awassa has all the natural qualities of Ethiopia with a bit of a more developed spin. 

Friday morning we set off to the bus station for my first experience with public transportation. I had NO idea what I was getting into, but I certainly looked forward to the experience of doing things just like any other Ethiopian. Wow! Twenty minutes into the ride we had a stop; upon reboarding the bus, they let the local beggars on for a quick chance to bring in some money. I quickly learned that allowing beggars to board is a totally normal thing. Just a bit further down the road and we pulled over quickly to pick up a few people headed to the next town... and their 8 chickens. There was a short debate about whether or not the chickens could board, but when it was all said and done we found ourselves with a handful of chickens as seat-mates. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried! The rest of the trip remained pretty uneventful with the exception of a few window wars and a guy hanging out the door as we drove on down the road. 

We arrived in Awassa and I drank in the newness, the beauty of the lake, and the experience of seeing another piece of Ethiopia. We stayed in a guest house a short distance from the lake, not too far from the fish market. That made for a lovely smelling walk to town each morning. Storks roamed the area, hippos mooed away the evenings, and monkeys swung from the nearby trees. Each night we enjoyed dinner at a restaurant overlooking the lake as the sun set off in the distance. It was beautiful! The mornings were easy-going, sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee and listening to the birds and watching the rays of sunshine bounce off the water in the distance. 

We spent one day by the side of the pool at a local resort. I decided I was going to pamper myself with a pedicure. After nearly 10 months of Africa built up on my feet, they were begging for a little love. I spent a whole 70 birr ($3.50) for my hour and a half pedicure. I'd say it was worth splurging, wouldn't you?

Sunday afternoon we returned home. This bus trip called for a lot more patients than the 1st. It was cold and rainy, the girl behind me was smacking gum like it was her job (which is one of my pet-peeves), and the man three seats down decided it was his responsibility to provide music for everybody. With his radio turned up as loud as he could get it, he jammed away. We arrived home though, without a hitch, and with that our weekend getaway came to a close. It was so nice to get away for the weekend and enjoy a change of pace. I got some great pictures, and thoroughly enjoyed spending time in fellowship with Jodi. What a weekend...  

Pictures

Here's a quick peak into what has been happening here lately, all via pictures.

 

     If your first response was "ICK!" then we are on the same page. I found this ugly thing (totally my opinion, some may find icky 8 legged spiders to be a beautiful addition to this world) on my kitchen floor. I assumed he was dead. If I had known otherwise I most certainly would NOT have stuck my hands that close to place a coin. Sure enough, when I came back to get rid of him, he was GONE! As I shared before, the only thing worse than finding this guy in my kitchen was coming back to find him GONE! A few days later, a similar spider showed up and lost his life to the end of my broom. You always hear about people having these encounters with gargantuan critters in their 3rd world country experiences... I am here to tell you, the encounters are real! A healthy dose of confidence and a cleaning tool took care of this one. Let's hope there are no more.

     These next two pictures I got while in town the other day. I love them because they are so representative of life here... 

 

Donkeys pull carts. They haul loads to and from market. They carry rocks and wooden beams. They bring "donkey water" when the water goes out. They are working animals. Often times they will pull carts, other times they just have loads on their backs. Here, right beside the veggie stand that we like, is a boy and his donkey. Obviously intrigued by the feringe girl (Jess) at the stand. 

And below... the epitome of organized chaos. This is the line for gas at the local station. Gas is mostly used in town by guys who make their money as motor bike and bajaj drivers. When there is gas to be had, the station looks like this. Ok, well, it looks like this on a good day. Most of the time is is a free for all. No line. Though this line looks organized, just to my left was a fight that was just about to break out over who got gas next. The funny part is, in the midst of the chaos I barely batted an eyelash because here, this is just normal. (I would have snapped a picture of the near fight, but I am not sure that would have gone over so well in the midst of their frustrations).

Playing Catch Up

Wow, a whole week into April and I have yet to post anything. 

     Many of you know from my newsletter and updates what I have going on in life right now. And unfortunately, as much as I would like to share on here, I am much more limited in what I can post. I am not intentionally putting my blog on the back-burner, but when my whole life right now is something I am limited in sharing, it is much more difficult to find things to post about.

     I shared a couple weeks ago about feeling caught in a valley. A number of things seemed to contribute to that, but I am thankful now to be well on my way out of it! Holy Week and Easter both proved to be encouraging times for me. This year, the reality of why we celebrate Easter seemed so much more real in my life. It may be because I know my Pappy is up in Heaven this year because of the love and grace that surrounded the death and resurrection of our Lord. It may be because this year I have more freely given myself to God, been more dependent on Him, and have been strengthened by His faithfulness time and time again. Perhaps because of that it just seems closer to my heart. 

Just a quick update on what has been going on lately: 

    This past Sunday, we celebrated Easter. We had a morning church service with the other missionaries in the area, and time of fellowship during a mid-morning brunch. I always enjoy the music at church, it is how I worship, but this week especially the music was top notch! Enjoyed the celebration of Jesus rising from the grave. This coming Sunday, Ethiopians will celebrate the same holiday which they call Fasika. I hope to go to the orphanage and take some new clothes and treats that some good friends have sent in the mail. Celebration of Easter here looks very similar to celebration of Christmas and New Years: coffee, tea, and lots of doro wat! 

     One of my closest friends and I are planning a weekend getaway at the end of April. This is my first real excursion, so I am looking forward to it! We'll visit the town of Awassa and enjoy time walking around the lake, time of relaxation, and quite possibly a bowl or ten of ice cream! We will be taking public transport there (a bus) which I am looking forward to. I am sure it will be miserable, hot, and stinky. And the odds of me getting car-sick are HIGH... But it is such a part of life for Ethiopians, so I feel like I have to experience it at least once. 

     Monday I celebrated 8 months in Ethiopia. It is absolutely mind blowing to me that is has been that long. This time last year I was just weeks away from graduation, and as ready as I could possibly be for August 5th to get here! Now I am starting my 9th month here and realizing that I am just a blink away from the end of July when I will fly home. 

Big God: Little Me

Just before drifting off to sleep last night, I laid listening to sounds of the night. With my window open it seemed as if the night was coming to life. The sounds of crickets filled the air and reminded me of home. Dogs barking in the distance, a mosquito buzzing around (who feasted on my arm last night), and the occasional scurry of the mongoose that lives in my attic. Oh, and how can I forget the hyenas. Yep, I have hyenas that spend their nights calling not too far away from my bedroom window. I guess it's safe to say that I am not in North Carolina anymore. 

Even in an evening of listening to life come alive all around me, I am reminded of what an amazing experience this is! I have had a rough go at it lately as I have tried to, yet again, create a new normal. Home has seemed even further away than usual, and with that my desire to be there has grown even greater. Yet after days upon days of crying out to God for a peace, comfort, and joy that can only come from Him, I felt His very real presence today. 

The reality that I am in Africa literally living my dream in bigger and bolder ways than I ever imagined hit me. The work that God is doing, and that I get to be a part of, hit me. The ways that He has revealed Himself to me in my time here hit me. I am not saying it is an easy road from here. However, what I am saying is that I am thankful to be on mission serving a God who is faithful. A God who looked upon all of His creation and intentionally sought out my hurting heart to reach today.  

Too Pretty!

Today, before the evening rain, God placed a beautiful double rainbow in the sky. It was too pretty not to share!

Early Rains are Back!

You are in America welcoming spring, and here in Ethiopia we are welcoming the early rains! 

After months upon months with full on sun all the time, I am excited to welcome back the rains. Or, the early rains. For the next month or so we will get a nice rain storm every day that will hopefully cool the air and hydrate the dry and dusty earth! That means it is time to pull out the rain boots and the rain coat again--and figure out how to zip my little miss up inside! These rains will last about a month before the sun returns full time. At that point though it will only be a month of sun before the full rainy season comes back.

Excited for the rains and looking forward to the life that it will bring back to the earth here! 

Mountains and Valleys

I have debated whether or not to post this for some time, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that it is okay to share the valley moments as well as the mountain top experiences. Right now, I am in a valley.

Sometimes it is hard to admit that things do not go smoothly all the time. It's hard to allow for that vulnerability and share the reality that some days, weeks, or even seasons of mission work are not always easy. Right now, I am in one of those valleys. 

I am at a point where I am so passionate about what I am doing, but struggling with being away from home. I am living my dream here in Africa, but life in America seems so appealing. I am struggling with feeling disconnected and separated from life on the East Coast. I am both pouring out and receiving love from the boys at the orphanage and my baby girl, but I am longing for the tangible connection with my loved ones stateside. I so want time here to stop so that I can drink in the blessing that is mission work, meanwhile another part of me is willing time to fly so I can be running into those long awaited hugs back home. 

You see, it's a battle. A time when everything is good, and yet I am struggling. I don't share this so you can feel bad for me, but rather so that you can pray for me. But not just me, each and every missionary around the globe that is feeling this same way for this given time. 

This week, be in prayer that God would wrap His ever present arms around my fragile heart and remind me that even in the valley He is faithful! Pray that this truth is one that I would not just believe, but accept. Pray that this time of discouragement and missing home would pass quickly and I would find myself feeling fueled and ready to face whatever God has for me in the next 4 months here.