To The Other Side

I'm here, I'm really here. Sitting in my bed in Mississippi, still in my PJs at 11:30 am, wondering how I can still be so very tired.
The last few days in Ethiopia were full and good and hard. Saying goodbye, packing up my house and suitcases, running errands, hugging friends.

With Andy and Bev Warren at their house a few minutes before we left for the airport





Some of my friends in Addis right before I left



I arrived in Jackson Monday night, in time to pull off the birthday surprise for my Dad (and Mom). It wouldn't have happened without my brothers and Robin and Jeremy--they made it work:) My flights were of course long and slightly miserable, but really pretty smooth. I sat in the "adopted Ethiopian babies" section of the airplane for the 14 hour flight from Addis to DC--that was fun but not at all conducive so sleep, which I don't do in an airplane very well anyway. I spent a rather frantic hour in DC at the Delta counter, trying not to freak out that my tickets were showing up in the system as expired. I could just see the whole birthday-with-a-surprise crumbling before me:) But it all worked out, and when I arrived breathless at the gate, I realized the flight had been delayed. A very kind lady I had met in the Addis airport watched my stuff while I traipsed through the airport in search of the perfect Diet Coke. It was sooooo good. Icy cold, burning sweetness.
I was glad when I made it to America. For all her faults, America is a blessed place. I breathed this sigh of relief when I entered immigration in DC under a big sign proclaiming, "Welcome to the USA." I felt welcomed indeed and was astounded by the kindness of American people. We are often perceived as loud and rude, but I was overcome by the friendliness of the diverse faces staring back at me. From the security man who heard one of those adopted kids wailing way back in the line and let that family go to the front, to the baggage guy who stopped my strained luggage-cart-pushing and offered to recheck my bags from there all the way to Jackson, to the two guys who assured me they would figure out my "expired" ticket and get me on the flight, which they did, to the realization that I was truly in the US headed to the deep South when the flight attendant drawled out, "Thank you, baby"!!
I was met in the airport by a random unexpected act of Providence by my good friends Nathan and Becky and their little baby Owen--they were there to pick up Nathan's mom, who was also flying in from Africa. The odds of us both flying in at the same time are astoundingly small, but it was a sweet reunion. But the best part was seeing the darting, squealing form of my dear, dear friend Robin!! What a great hug that was! Her husband Jeremy picked us up in the parking lot, I picked up the diet Coke waiting on the floorboard for me, and we headed straight to Marble Slab, where I had possibly the best ice cream of my life! We got to hang out for awhile before going to my brother's place where I showered in attempt to look like I was in the land of the living. From there the plan was set into motion . . . my brothers had arranged to take my parent's out to dinner for my dad's birthday. Jeremy entered a few minutes later and made my whole family feel extraordinarily awkward by hurriedly asking them if they would mind taking in some stranger for dinner who he thought really needed to be ministered to, but he and Robin just didn't have time. Seconds later, Robin and I entered. My mom saw me first and just stared, jaw dropped. My dad hadn't noticed us yet and mom kept jabbing his elbow, "Steve! Stephen!!" It was a wonderful reunion indeed!
So now I am trying to recover from jet lag and plan out the craziness of the next couple of months!! Thanks for all your prayers for me, even though most of you didn't know what you were praying for!

From This Side of the Ocean . . .

Days of transition . . . full of joy and sorrow, excitement and fear, laughter and tears, confidence and nervousness, hope and despair . . . .
I've spent this week trying to wrap up my work with the project and prepare for my time in the States. It's not an easy thing to tie up one life--even for a couple of months--and think about living another one. I, for one, don't deal with change all that well, and this is major change. So each day it's a battle to remember that indeed my life is in HIS hands--and thus I need not fear, worry, or fret (I do all three very well:-).
All week the women in the project have astounded me. They have nothing--really, truly, nothing--and yet they give so generously from their nothingness. I've received gifts, hugs, tears, smiles . . . love so abundant and undeserved. They bless me. They are so precious to me. I'm shamed by my tight fists . . . I think I'm generous, but it's only because after I give something away, I know I'm going to have something left. Letay brought me a basket . . . brightly woven, a little worn. She cried as she handed the gift over. She said she didn't have any money to buy me something, but she wanted to give me a gift. So she gave me the one thing she had . . . a little basket she's always kept her jewelry in.
Yesterday I went to visit a couple of beneficiaries who I fear will not be alive when I return. I find it so hard to trust Father . . . that He will work, and we must be faithful to scatter the seed. "Sara, why are you leaving us? Why? Jennifer (a previous staff member) came, and she was our friend, and she left. Then you came, and you were our best friend, and you are leaving. Why?" Geta said, as tears dripped down her face. I weep. Why? Why? Why have they been abandoned over and over and over throughout their lives? Am I adding to the burden? "But Geta, Jesus is here. All of the time. I love you, I will pray for you. I will not forget you." May my words not be empty, but may truth ring through them.
The next few days will be busy with all the transitions, so this is my last post from this side of the ocean! I will soon be in the land of all things modern, my family and friends, and, of course, diet coke. Just so everyone knows my priorities!! :-)
You've blessed me, supported me, sustained me, and encouraged me this past year. I am grateful for you. May our Father guide and keep all of us until the day we get to stand together in a world without sorrow, pain, weeping, and death.

Moving Stories

In February, a couple of guys came along with a medical team to spend 2 weeks filming and photographing the project here with the hope of sharing with the wider world what God is doing. They are still working on compiling this work, and at the same time processing the people and scenes they experienced through the lens. But they've just posted some of the preliminary pieces, and I wanted to share them with you.

This is a video generally of their team's first week here in Addis. I think I already wrote about this, but the night I watched it while the team was still here, I wept. It was joy and pain all mixed up, and it profoundly impacted my thoughts about returning here. So here it is for you to share our joy through!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ey1KNQdewaE

And this is Danute's story. She's one of the first beneficiaries of the project, and she is a beautiful testimony to God's power and grace. She came to the office a few minutes ago, and I got to watch this video with her. She cried and laughed, and I told her that because of her story, many people would be praising God. She said, "Thank you. I am praising God too."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5_0jh1lM7k

Beautiful Life

How many times have I walked the Addis streets to Elsa’s home, only to be greeted by her father’s sad, tired face and a little heap of body curled under the blankets on the mattress on the floor? How many times have we gone through her medicine, hoping for wisdom to know what else to give her? How many times have we tried to improve her appetite and diet with milk, eggs, oatmeal, Campbells instant noodle soup? How many times have we sent her by taxi back to the hospital, paying for a doctor and medicine but never for improvement? How many times have we knelt beside her on the cold concrete floor and prayed for her? How many times have we said, “There is hope”? How many times have you prayed for her? How many times have I prayed for her? How many times have we as a staff prayed for her?

It’s all countless, but yet never enough. She’s always sick, always weary, always hopeless, always wanting only to stay in her curled heap and not face a harsh world. She hasn’t been to our office in months because she is always at her house in her bed. I admit that I, too, had come so close to giving up on her as well. As one we couldn’t help, one who wouldn’t get better, one we would lose sooner rather than later.

Because Elsa has been so sick for so long, she hasn’t really been a part of a support group, which is the functional unit through which much of our project’s work is accomplished. She’s a member of the newest women’s support group, but has never been well enough to come to their meetings or be connected to the other women. Several weeks ago, her support group talked to Betty, the staff member who coordinates and directs the support groups. They said they wanted to take some of the responsibility of caring for Elsa, even though she hadn’t really been a real part of their group. So they went to her house, they bathed her and cleaned her house and fed her. In essence, they loved her—though she had done nothing to deserve their care and concern.

Today I was preparing to teach in the women’s support groups. I was upstairs at the project office, gathering my wooden toothbrush sticks and supplies to teach on hygiene. One of the support group women came and got me and kept saying I had to come downstairs. I kept saying, “I’m coming, I’m coming!” But she insisted that I had to come now. So she pulled me downstairs and into our group meeting room, where I saw a few other women waiting for support group to start. She kept tugging, and as I rounded the corner, I saw her.

Elsa. Smiling. Sitting up. Alive.

My heart swelled as I exclaimed in Amharic “God be praised!”

I ran upstairs to get Betty, and told her there was a surprise for her down where the women were. She skeptically entered the room, only to repeat my reaction of amazement and joy and praise. She ran back upstairs to get Alemu, another staff member, to send him down as well. We rejoiced together, with Elsa and her father and her support group. A small victory, yes, but an incredible one nonetheless!

I changed my mind about devotions in the next 5 minutes before support group started. We read instead Psalm 118, and all the while I kept glancing up to see Elsa’s beautiful, beaming face. Indeed, our God is good.

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for He is good!

For His mercy endures forever.

I shall not die, but live,

And declare the works of the Lord.

Psalm 118:1, 17

Bursting Forth in Glorious Day

There in the ground His body lay,

Light of the world by darkness slain;
Then bursting forth in glorious day,
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory,
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me;
For I am His and He is mine—
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

--Stuart Townend

This Easter means more to me than perhaps any before. It's always been a good day--Easter makes me think of being in Paris (TX, I'm not that cool!) and eating with my extended family and fighting for sofa space to read the comics. But this time, Easter astounds me. This year has been one of being surrounded and overwhelmed by the powers of darkness and death. To be able to celebrate such a glorious reality--that indeed, Christ HAS conquered death--is incredible and joyous. I want hearts to be captured by this amazing Love that defeats all other powers. I want my heart to be captured again and again by this Light and Life.

The drippy view from my porch this afternoon

I hope you are celebrating this day wherever you are--whether it's with your family or far from them, in your home country or another. I can't speak much Amharic, but I just keep saying in my kindergarten version, "It's a very good holiday! Jesus died! Jesus rose! So it's a great day!" I hope that today is indeed for you a glorious day.
I celebrated Easter this afternoon with some dear people—my small group from last year. We had a feast and great fellowshipJ

My little friends Kate and Erin

Loading up on a feast of good things--we had ham and chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy and salad and rolls and cake . . . there was nothing to complain about today!!

And all the adults waving to those in the group who couldn't be with us!!

Happy Easter!!

A Smattering

So I've been thinking . . . .
See, you can watch me as I'm thinking . . .
My arm is so short that my self-portraits are a little frightening!!
Thinking about life in general, how incredibly blessed I am, what great friends and community I've been given, the wonderful work I've had the privilege of participating in, the joy and the pain of the journey we are all on, the glorious beginning we hope in for the end . . .
I'm beginning to feel the stress of what the next few weeks of life hold. I don't want that stress and wish it would go far, far away, but knowing myself it's going to be much more complicated than that. So instead it's a battle every day to give those fears and uncertainties and worries and anxieties to the One who is much more capable to deal with them.
At work I'm trying to wrap up what feels like a million little projects that need to get finished before I leave. I find it less than motivating to format patient referral forms, but yet I've got to get it done.
At my house I'm staring at all my stuff thinking about how I need to at least think about sorting and packing and storing. Yes, storing.
Because I have my answer about the next step in life! I'll be here for the next stretch, and I'm really glad I've been given this opportunity by the "Giver of all good gifts". This one is indeed a sweet and joy-filled gift. It does not come without pain and heartache, though, because in many ways it means giving up again all that I hold dear in my life back "there". But I'm content even in that sorrow, for it means I do not yet have to say goodbye to this place and people who have become a part of my heart. Someday I will, and that will be a hard day, but for now I am glad that there is a place and work for me here.
I'm headed "home" at the end of April, and I'll be in the States for a couple of months. This week I've started to get more and more excited about that and seeing all of you! Of course the abundance of things like diet coke and hot water and high speed internet and Mexican food make me inordinately happy when I think about them, but really the joy is in getting to see you, hug you, cry with you, laugh with you, and again share life for a bit with you.
At the same time, "home" is an overwhelming thought. For one thing, it is no longer home in the way I always saw it. This year has stretched "home" for me so much that I can begin to understand why we've been given these restless hearts here . . . for here is not our home. Nonetheless, being there means being inundated with all things Western and American and material, and I'm not sure how I'm going to adjust. Will everyone I meet think I've become some crazy weird single female missionary??!! It also means about a million trips crammed into those 2 months--all fun, but hectic at the same time. A lot of people, a lot places, a lot of things to do . . . and am I just going to be running around with that deer-in-the-headlights expression as I try to take it all in? I want to savor it, to worship at my church and not think about how few days I get to do that, to watch movies and not think about "wasting" time, to rest and not worry about that to-do list, to be diligent and productive and yet laid back. Yep, pretty much I want to achieve perfection! Ha. Well, it's good to know from this end that that is not going to happen! Those of you who have done this before--this major, weird, horrible, wonderful cross-cultural transition--if you've got advice for me, bring it on!
These are a random collection of photos from the past few weeks.

This first couple is from a rather interesting ride into work a couple of weeks ago. The short rainy season has come, and with it mud and water in all the places you don't want it! On this day, there were about a 100 people waiting for taxis and with 2 other friends I ended up taking a contract taxi. Unfortunately, there was no flotation device on this car . . . and we ended up thoroughly STUCK in what looked like a lake out the windows! I still don't know how the taxi driver did it, but somehow he "rocked" the car forward (like the back and forth motion while sitting in his seat) and eventually we inched out way out of the muddy pool. I think it took about an hour and a half to make it to the office that day, so by the time I got there I was ready to go back home:-)











2 weeks ago I went to a women's retreat with a bunch of other mission women. It was a refreshing quiet weekend with some good friends and too much good food:-) It was at the retreat center at the volcano lake I've posted photos from before--it just always amazes me how beautiful and calm it is after the dirt and chaos of Addis. I needed that time to renew before these last crazy weeks here, I think. And yet again He provided. Always and again.

This is my friend Mindy. We were in a small group together last year, which was by far one of the sweetest times of community I've had here over the past 12 months.

And this is with my friend Dorinda, who's taught me many great Australian things, including words such as "lou" for the bathroom!! She's living far, far away in the SW part of the country now where they communicate with the rest of the world mainly by radio, but at least she's still in the same country as me!!

Here I'm with my friend Laurie, who's living in the same place as Dorinda. We didnt' tip over. It's a good thing I don't row like I walk!







One night a bunch of us piled into Dorinda's big land cruiser and went hyena hunting. We spotted a lot--at least 15! We weren't in it for the meat--it's just spotlight hunting. Hyenas live up to their name--they are possibly the ugliest creatures I've ever seen next to opossums.
Jackie decided the best viewing spot was on the top of the vehicle . . . we were pretty nice to her and didn't go flying over too many bumps!




On the drive back to Addis after the retreat . . . D looking cool in her shades (and hanging onto for dear life??).








It was market day in Debra Zeit, the town nearest the lake. I was working on my tourist appearance that I normally try to downplay:-)

Just the view out my window . . . .

Back in Addis, life has been back to normal. Two of my fellow staff had birthdays recently, so last week we celebrated with a joint b-day party. Both thought the party was for the other one, so that worked out pretty well:-)




With Teddy, the project manager--my boss and dear friend.






And this is Alemu and Jim. Alemu is generally my cohort in crime--he's a nurse as well and is the one I work with mostly in caring for our beneficiaries. Jim's here for a year or two, and he's working a lot with the men's support groups and boy's program.

We celebrated a friend's b-day at a great "Irish" restaurant several weeks ago. Here I'm with my friend Kristen who happens to be sitting in my living room right now.







And that's my life over the past few weeks!
This weekend is Easter (the Ethiopian and Western calendar match up this year!), and it's a huge celebration here. The past couple of days I've been thinking about how it should be the biggest party of the year. Today in one of the women's support groups I got to share the glorious story of Easter--the prophesy, the coming, the death, the resurrection, the promise of Jesus. I don't think about that nearly enough, but what greater hope to have in this broken and messed up world we live in than the knowledge that DEATH has been conquered?!

That's all from this side of the world. I pray this weekend is a sweet one for you as well as you reflect and pray and worship and eat and spend time with your families.
See you soon, dear ones . . . .