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."