Extracting the Precious from the Worthless

Etanaite and her son

out·cast
noun


1. a person who is rejected or cast out, unwanted, not accepted
2. rejected matter; garbage

She lives in a community already rejected by the world around it. Yet, within Korah she has been tossed aside herself. It's a curious thing, how people who are outcasts themselves can put that label even more brutally on one of their own. She did nothing to cause this, nothing to deserve being shunned by her own community.

She was raped. Just before turning 17.

She now has a son just one year old as a result of that rape.

And while she may be labeled an outcast, she has a name - Etanaite. And behind her name is a beautiful human being, both inside and out.  If people would only take the time to see.

My friends Yemamu and Sisay did take the time to see.  Because of that, we were welcomed into Etanaite's home to hear her story firsthand.  

We stepped into her one room house to find her little brother and her son playing by the bench.

The room couldn't have been more than 6x8. We asked how many people lived in the room.  There were 7 of them.  Etanaite's mother, Etanaite and her baby, and Etanaite's four siblings.  

They all slept on this bed or on the floor...

There used to be eight of them in this small room, until about 6 months ago when her father died.  He was blind and would go into the city to beg on the streets. The money he brought home would feed them on some days.  After his death, Etanaite's mother, Zenebe, went to the garbage dump to scavenge for food and materials to sell.  The dump is where she found the bottle her grandson is holding below. Dirty doesn't begin to describe it.

Zenebe and her grandson

After Etanaite was raped and gave birth to her son, she found work outside the city in the countryside making fabric.  She made 450birr ($26)a month.  Half of that money went to pay the rent for their one room house and the other half went to pay for her transportation to work.  There was no money for food other than what her father brought in from begging.  When he died, the family started struggling even more. Zenebe started going to the dump with her grandson on her back to find food.

What heightens the tragedy of this situation for me is that this family is alone.  Because of the stigma associated with rape and with giving birth out of wedlock, they are shut out. They live in a community that they are not welcomed in.  As we listened to Etanaite tell her story, tears slid down her face.  Now, at the age of 18, she knows she has no prospects for marriage because of a horror that was perpetrated against her.  Along with mourning the loss of her father, she mourns the loss of her future. Or at least she did, until Love walked through the doorway of her house in the form of Yemamu and Sisay. Jeremiah 29:11 says that God has plans for Etanaite.  Plans to prosper her and to give her a hope and a future. And that is exactly what is happening.

Can you even imagine what Etanaite must have thought as Yemamu and Sisay came into her home and asked how their family was?  When was the last time anyone had asked that simple question of her? But they went further than just talk.  They registered her siblings in their feeding program to help alleviate some of the financial stress on the the family.  And they then proceeded to offer Etanaite a job at the Center helping to cook and clean, which she joyfully accepted.  They pay her twice what she was making at her job outside the city and she now just has to walk for two minutes to work, allowing her to use her transportation money for something else.  Etanaite's brother had been struggling and sleeping at the garbage dump without coming home since their father's death, but now that he is enrolled in the feeding program he has changed.  She says he comes home every day and is like a different person.  Etanaite said that they have so much hope now.

We had bought baby bottles, blankets and a new dress for Zenebe, which we gave to her on our last day in Ethiopia. Yemamu and Sisay had brought two mattresses from their own home to give them so that the children would not have to sleep on the dirty, hard floor. Etanaite's tears flowed freely upon receiving the gifts.  I asked Yemamu why she was crying and he said it was because she was very, very happy.  She said no one had ever treated them this way and cared for them like this.  She said that she thanked God for the new life they could start to make for themselves because of the feeding program and her new job.

What I really think she was thanking God for was that someone had stopped to see their pain and enter into it with them.  Someone had cared.  There's a little verse tucked away in Jeremiah 15 that says "And if you extract the precious from the worthless, you will become My spokesman". That's exactly what Yemamu & Sisay have done.  They have taken time to see that which is precious hidden away in the seemingly worthless, and they have called it out.  By their love and care for Etanaite she is seeing that she is NOT an outcast to the One that really matters - to the One who knit her together and knows the number of hairs on her head.  She is a daughter of the King and is valuable and precious in His eyes. 

And isn't this every one of our stories, really?  Hasn't God taken our broken, messed up lives and transformed them into something beautiful and precious? Hasn't He rescued us from the label of outcast and given us an identity as His own children, despite our history? Hasn't He offered us hope?

There are Etanaite's all around us...people who have been rejected and labeled.  Will we make the choice like Yemamu did to seek them out? Will we reach out in compassion and kindness?  Will our actions on their behalf prove our words to them? Will we reflect the heart of God in extracting the precious from the worthless?

"For God is a God of the humble, the miserable, the troubled, the oppressed, the despairing, and those who have become totally nothing. He lifts the lowly, feeds the hungry, heals the blind, comforts the miserable and troubled.  For He is the almighty Creator who makes everything from nothing." - Luther

The Boys

So, if you missed my last post about the garbage dump, you might want to go read it so that this post makes sense.  The garbage dump in Korah (Ethiopia) ripped my heart out.  Or, maybe I should say the people who go to the garbage dump every day or LIVE there ripped my heart out.  Garbage is garbage, but the people who are left with no choice but to frequent this hell hole are not. 

The day we walked through the dump I knew we were going to give food to the boys who lived there.  But you just can't prepare yourself for something like that.  You can't understand the stench, the filth, the grime that these boys live in until you see it.  Until the smell hits your nostrils and turns your stomach.  Until you try to scrape off layers of muddy filth from hands that have been searching through the garbage for unfound "treasures".

 Until you struggle to see what's in front of you because of the hoards of flies buzzing all around.  Until you step in the excrement that is everywhere.  Until you take in the faces of the ones who live in it all day every day.

My friends Yemamu and Sisay who grew up scavenging in this dump, intentionally continue to walk through it to find children just like the ones they met above.  They want to bring them into the feeding program they run and help provide for their basic needs and education.  Understand that NO ONE goes into the trash dump if they don't have to.  But Yemamu and Sisay choose to go.  They no longer have to, but they are compelled.  Much like Jesus who went to the forgotten, the outcast, the people deemed worthless - the least of these.  He sought them out.  There was something precious Jesus saw in the people that the world had turned their backs on.  And let me tell you, there is plenty that is precious about the boys above too.

We took these 12 boys who live in the garbage dump back to the Hands for the Needy center to profile them for the program.  I want to protect their exact identities, but here are just a few snippets from some of their stories...

Boy #1: Not in school. He and his father live at the trash dump.  Mother was murdered. His father had to relinquish his other 5 children to government orphanages because he could not afford to care for them. This boy wants to go to school and be a doctor.

Boy #2: Not in school. Has a mother but is not living with her because she is a beggar and lives on the street. He wants to be a pharmacist.

Boy #3: Age 16. His parents died when he was 5 and he lived on the street. He lives at the dump now and from what he makes from the metals he collects there, he pays for himself to go to school. He wants to be a teacher.

Boy #4: Age 14. He stopped school last year. He has a mother who lives in Korah but he left to go live at the dump because she was abusive, but he wants to go back home and live peacefully with her. He wants to be a teacher.

Boy #5: Age 11. Not in school.  His parents died when he was a young child.  He has had no one to care for him and has lived in the trash dump ever since. He wants to be a doctor.

As we heard from these boys, each of their stories was more raw and painful than the last.  Yet the way these boys cared for each other was beautiful and amazing.  Talk about a sense of community and brotherhood...these boys had it.  But as a mom I just wanted to gather them all up and hug them and never let go. 

The boys find everything in the dump - including their clothing.  They find clothes, wear them for two weeks, then throw them back in the dump once they find "newer" clothes.  It's disposable clothing in the truest sense of the word.  And their shoes...

NONE of their shoes fit them, and few of them actually matched.  They just used what they could find.  I think about all the sharp things I encountered in the dump and I look at the flimsy plastic boot on the boy above and I cringe.  Everyone on my team did.  So, we decided to do something about it. 

We decided to pack up all twelve boys into a taxi along with our whole crew for a total of 22 people in this small "bus".  It was hilarious...you can watch a video of us piling everyone in HERE. And we took all 12 boys to the Mercado to buy good, sturdy shoes that actually fit them.  On the way, some of the boys from the dump discovered the wonders of my iPhone. :)  By the end of the bus ride I got an error message from my iPhone that it needed to "cool down" because it was overheating from use. :)

We got to the shoe store.  I'm not sure there are words to describe the looks we got when walked in.  At this point, the boys were still in their clothes from the dump.  It was their first time in a store ever to purchase something for themselves.  All of us looked a little bewildered at where to start, including the staff.  We did the boys by groups - youngest first then the oldest.  It was seriously so fun to watch their faces as they waited to be fit. Let's just say we brought a special smell with us into the store. :)  Because of that, the store owner made the boys wear plastic bags over their feet when they tried the shoes on.

Everyone walked out of there with a new pair of shoes.  I can't tell you how big the smiles were and how much my heart wanted to explode at how happy such a simple thing made them.  Meanwhile, it took so long to get 12 boys fitted for shoes that our taxi driver (Yemamu's brother) resorted to napping :).

We had brought some second hand clothing from the States, but quickly realized we didn't have anything for the majority of the boys, so we also took them to buy pants, underwear, socks and sweatshirts.  Because there were so many of us and because the prices for things go up substantially when the shopkeepers at the Mercado see white skin, we girls stayed back in the taxi while Yemamu and Sisay bartered.  Some of the older boys were with us in the taxi waiting their turn.  I looked back and saw one of the boys taking it all in from the taxi window. He sat there gazing outside...

 I wondered what he was thinking as he watched all the people scurrying into shops and buying the things they needed.  I thought about how when he needed something, he went scavenging through a trash heap.  He was usually one of the people who watched all the taxis drive by as they walked to their destination.  Yet here he was sitting inside of one observing things from the opposite standpoint for the first time.  I honestly can't imagine what was going through his head. 

Once everyone had purchased all that they needed, it was dark.  It had taken hours to accomplish all the shopping.  My stomach was hungry and I looked around at the boys.  Yemamu leaned over and asked if we could take the boys out to dinner.  Um...YES!!!  So we went...all five of us crazy white people and a trail of 12 boys from the dump.  The boys hadn't changed into their new clothes because we wanted them to shower first, so they were still in their clothing that reeked of trash.  The looks we got all filing into the restaurant were priceless.  I'm quite sure they didn't know what to make of us all.  I wanted to stop and take a picture of the people looking at us, but figured that would be rude. :)  Here's the view from one end of the long table...

We ordered everyone Cokes, which was a big deal for the boys.  Actually, scratch that.  Just being at a restaurant was a big deal for the boys.  For most of them, it was their first time.  Can you imagine?  So, after we ordered dinner and Cokes we did what any ignorant Americans would.  We offered them hand sanitizer.  I wish I had video of THAT!  Ethiopians eat with their hands and often hand feed each other as a sign of respect and love.  So, we Americans are thinking the boys could use some hand sanitizer considering they spend all day in a garbage dump.  We pull out our bottles and start squeezing it into the boys' hands.  Yemamu and Sisay start explaining that it's just like soap and like washing their hands.  All the boys are smiling and laughing until...here's where the ignorant part comes in...all of the open cuts on their hands start stinging from the alcohol that's in the sanitizer.  I'm sitting there watching all their eyes get really wide and they tell Yemamu that it hurts their hands.  So we Americans show them how to wave their hands in the air so that it will dry quickly and the burning will go away.

Then they all promptly got up and went to wash their hands. So funny. :)  We had a GREAT time at dinner, as you can imagine.  The boys were smiling and eating.  Sisay got up and was hand feeding some of the older boys rather large handfuls of food. :) We even talked a few of the older boys into showing us what traditional Ethiopian dancing looked like...

It was a fabulous day.  It felt good to use our resources (which many of you readers generously donated!) to help provide for the boys in such practical ways and it was pure joy to see their faces have these first time experiences.  There was so much laughter that night.  I'll remember it for the rest of my life.  Now, dropping the boys back off at the dump that night is another blog post altogether...

The Garbage Dump (AKA... hell on earth)

(Disclaimer: Let me just say that as I read back over what I have written below I realize that I can't begin to adequately describe this place.  Several times while writing this I wanted to just delete the whole post because my attempts felt so futile. How do you find words for a place that has completely broken your heart? I don't think I can...so just know that as you read there is so much more behind each word.)

Oh the stench.  I kept myself from gagging as we hiked up the steep, slippery mud trail and crested the top of the hill.  It was almost as cruel on the eyesight as it was on my sense of smell.  But, I guess that's what it was supposed to be.  I was, after all, walking through the city garbage dump in the capital city of Ethiopia.  I scanned the surroundings.  There were vultures everywhere.  Gigantic, nasty birds just waiting.

 

This wretched garbage dump is tied to many of the people who I got to meet a few weeks ago in Ethiopia.  It's important to understand what the dump means to the people of Korah...how their lives are connected to it.  I heard so many people talk about "the dump" as they would share about their daily lives.  I had to experience it for myself.  Here in the States, probably the only way that someone would go into a garbage dump is if they were driving a truck or bulldozer of some sort.  At first glance, it appeared that there were only bulldozers and trucks at the dump.  But then I looked closer.  What I thought were actually garbage piles were people. There are at least 11 people in the picture below that would be easy to miss at first glance. 

The people in Korah are so poor that often their only source of food is from the garbage dump.  The dump also provides them a way to earn money.  They spend all day collecting plastics and metals that they then sell so they can survive.  You can see in the picture above that a garbage truck had just arrived and dumped "fresh" garbage.  Typically, the garbage dump is covered with people scavenging, but this day was a Holiday so there weren't as many people there.  The "best" trucks to watch for are the ones from the Sheraton and Hilton Hotels as well as the one that comes from the airport.  These trucks have the leftover food that is thrown out.  Anything and everything is fair game.  The dump is frequented by people who have no other options.  I mean, really...would you even go to this god-forsaken place if you didn't have to?  The stench alone is enough to keep you away.  But all kinds of people come here trying to find ways to survive...

Teenagers scavenging for metals and plastics...

Elderly women trying to find plastics to sell to earn some money...

Men looking for food...

We had just come from a woman's house down the hill in Korah.  She was house bound because she had lost her leg.  She had stepped on something sharp in the dump while she was scavenging and didn't have the money to get her foot treated for the wound.  That foot wound infected her leg and eventually turned into gangrene.  She became very ill and had to have her leg amputated as a result.  It is maddening that such a simple thing like a cut foot ends up taking someone's leg and ultimately, their livelihood.  That would never happen here in America, yet it happens every day in Ethiopia.  My friend Abbey, who is a nurse, was with me on this trip and EVERY wound she cared for was a foot wound.  Every single one.  You can't imagine the types of plastic shoes that people walk through the dump in - they are completely unprotected.  People contract HIV by stepping on needles that have been used to treat an infected person.  People wear bloody clothes that they find in the dump from hospitals.  They walk through all sorts of feces and bacteria.  This garbage dump is so much more than a place that holds trash.  It is a place where the people who come start to believe that they are the very garbage they are there to collect. It is oppressive, dark and hopeless.  These are people without choices - because of their poverty, because others who could help have chosen not to care about their plight and because people just don't know it even exists.  We don't know this kind of life is what many people wake up to day after day after day.

Walking through this dump was like watching a nightmare unfold.  And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, Yemamu pointed out the two small structures across the way in the garbage dump.  

The people in those structures (I can't bring myself to call it a house) were the reason why we had come to the dump in the first place.  We wanted to bring them food on New Year's Day...food that they wouldn't have to scavenge for.  They walked across the dump to greet us.

They were boys.  Some of them orphaned.  Some of them there because their family in Korah couldn't provide for them. My mama's heart started to explode at what I was seeing. The boy in the tan leather jacket lived with his father at the dump...you'll hear more about him later.  We greeted the boys and they took us down the path to their "house".  This short video clip will give you a glimpse into what it consisted of on the inside.  As I stood there filming the inside of their house (which they had welcomed me to do), the tears started sliding down my cheeks. I kept thinking about the inside of my own house.  I kept thinking about the lifestyle that my own children live.  I kept thinking that the boys standing in front of me at that trash dump were God's children. I kept thinking that this couldn't be real.  And my heart literally ached.  I wanted to scream.  It was all so wrong.  This was never how things were meant to be.  Children weren't made to live in garbage dumps.  Seeing it all was so painful.  I can't imagine how living it must be. 

But seeing is crucial for us.  We MUST choose to see.  Honestly, there is a part of me that wishes I had never walked through that garbage dump, because now I know.  And it hurts to know.  Some days it eats me up to know.  Some nights I lay my head on my pillow in my warm, comfortable bed and all I can think of is that nasty, filthy, fly-infested tarp where those boys lay their heads.  But I would do it again and again because becoming aware of other people's realities is what leads to compassion and ultimately, change.  I know not everyone can go to Ethiopia and see what I saw first hand.  But my prayer is that you will choose to see through stories and pictures, the people in this small corner of the world...  that you will come to know the boys who live in this dump not just as statistics but as precious human beings who are important and valuable. I hope that you will start to see the kind of difference that people like you and me can make for these boys and others like them.  I pray that we can shake our comfort off long enough to take a look at the situations our brothers and sisters find themselves in and be compelled to do something about it.

Proverbs 24:12 says: "Once our eyes are opened we cannot pretend we do not know what to do. God, who weighs our hearts and keeps our souls knows we know and holds us responsible to act."

My prayer is that our eyes become opened.  And that Proverb is right because I couldn't pretend I didn't know what to do if I wanted to.  I KNOW now.  And knowing other people's pain and situations is actually a gift, because along with the pain of knowing, there is great joy in being part of the solution...in embracing what we see and throwing our arms wide around it - dirt and pain and all.  Transformation happens and let me tell you, it is pure joy to be a part of.  Wait til you hear what happened next for these boys...it's a story I can't wait to tell. :)

Jesus With Skin On

I don't really have the words to describe the kind of love I saw in action the past two weeks in Ethiopia.  I've heard the term "Jesus with skin on" tossed around, but I'm not sure I ever really grasped its full meaning until I watched my two friends Yemamu and Sisay in Korah.  God has uniquely positioned them to minister to this community.  They both grew up in Korah.  Yemamu's parents both suffer from leprosy - his father can't see most of the time and his mother lost her leg to the disease.  Sisay lost his father many years ago to sickness.  They can relate to the pain and the suffering that exists in Korah because they have lived it.  They have scavenged at the trash dump from the age of 12 for food or metals to sell.  You might think this would harden them, but in fact, the opposite has happened.  These men care deeply for the community they grew up in and have chosen to stay and help the people in Korah.

The people in this community are oppressed by disease, death, hunger and poverty. Korah literally means "cursed". These people are outcasts in their own city because of their poverty and disease.  But through their actions, Yemamu and Sisay are helping to break the power of the label that has been put on this community. They are breathing life into dead things, bringing beauty from the dirt, filling emptiness with love and hope.


I was in awe of the humility and gentleness that Yemamu and Sisay exuded.  They were never in too much of a hurry.  They crossed busy streets to greet people, taking the time to ask how they were.  They stopped walking when a little one pulled on their arm, wanting their attention.  They bent low to look the children in the eyes.

They carried with them any leftover food they had and gave it to the beggars on the street - always.  They wrapped their arms around the suffering. 

They gently led blind women to chairs.  They cleaned gaping wounds day after day. 

They looked a young, raped girl in the eyes and offered her hope when everyone around her offered her judgment.  They rolled up the hem of my jeans to protect them from the mud. They walked through a garbage dump to find boys who needed food. 

They gave shirts off their backs and belongings out of their own home to those who needed them.  They went straight to the people who no one wanted anything to do with. 

In a community full of outcasts they were present and engaged.  They radiated love and spoke value and worth to hearts who were convinced they were garbage. 

I witnessed Jesus with skin on.  Again and again.

Before I start sharing stories I wanted you to know where it all started - with two men dedicated to sacrificing for the least of these...giving all they are for the sake of the vulnerable, that the "cursed" would have hope and live in the abundance of joy they were meant to have.  Simply beautiful. 

Together, they run a feeding program (and so much more!) called Hands for the Needy Ethiopia.  What God has done in just one year to bring this organization into being is beyond words.  There have been so many hurdles and difficulties along the way, but last week they received the final piece of paper they needed to officially begin feeding the children.  I am amazed, humbled and privileged to be a part of the work they are doing in Korah.  And I know the best is yet to come...

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor...to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve — to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor. They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations. And you will be called priests of the LORD, you will be named ministers of our God. Instead of their shame my people will receive a double portion, and instead of disgrace they will rejoice in their inheritance.

- Isaiah 61

I remember...

I'm back from Ethiopia...well, at least my body is back.  I'm quite sure I left most of my heart there.  I find myself immediately hit with the reality of my life here...work emails to catch up on, grocery runs to make, kids to spend time with, bills to pay, a calendar to manage.  But in the all the scurry and madness that marks our lives here in America, I remember. 

I remember the faces of children being fed more than one meal a day for the first time...

I remember the dirty dwellings falling apart that house people full of joy or in deepest pain...

I remember the garbage dump where people scavenge for food...

I remember the face of a handicapped girl playing soccer with one foot...

I remember the young girl raped and her son who held the dirty bottle that his grandma had found in the dump for him...

I remember the the face of the man who grew up scavenging in the dump, caring for the young orphaned boy who lives there now...

I remember that hope springs up in the most unlikely places...

I remember that I find my life when I'm willing to lose it for someone else. 

I have a lot to share about this last trip to Ethiopia.  A LOT.  But, I'm going to take my time.  I want to do justice to what I saw and experienced, so I'm going to slow down and allow myself time to process and then share my stories with you.  I can tell you that the past two weeks have been the most humbling weeks in my life.  I have seen what God looks like when He puts on skin and walks around loving people and it has stirred me in ways I didn't anticipate.  Can't wait to share more with you guys...thanks for being patient with me as I process.  Much, much more to come!

Live Your Story

I'm an emotional wreck today...but of the best kind. I'm not sure what it is about today, but my heart is so full... so expectant. 

Two years ago on September 7th I flew to Uganda - my first time setting foot on African soil. Next week on September 7th I will fly to Ethiopia. It's impossible to describe what has happened in the past two years in my life and in my heart. You might call it revelation or awakening. Whatever you call it, it has changed my world, my faith and my desires. It has made me more alive than I've ever been and has brought me into a fuller understanding of who God is. These are not small things. I am not who I was.

I listened to my friend, Tom Davis tell his story last night and was struck with the redemptive beauty of what God creates out of our stories. You and I are stories in progress. "The End" won't be written on our lives until we meet God face to face someday. He is writing our stories. The God of the universe is authoring our lives. Through conflicts, valleys, mountaintops, the mundane...He is writing something amazing with us. And all of our stories are a part of a larger volume that is shaping the direction of the world.

It's been said many times before, but it bears repeating: We are not meant to live our lives on the sidelines, watching a great event unfold. Our lives are to be part of the action, part of the story. We weren't designed to sit in a seat shoving our faces full of foot longs and nachos while the people on the field sprint, kick, push and score. We are not meant to be onlookers! Even Adam and Eve at the beginning of creation were given a purpose! I have been an onlooker most of my life...thinking that what other people were doing was great, but it wasn't something I'd be good at, or it wasn't anything I had a desire to do. So I stayed glued to my seat while the excitement of participating in something important blew right past me.

The past two years have shaken me out of my idleness. There is absolutely nowhere else I'd rather be than in the middle of the action...in the thick of the story. Because God doesn't just write a story to write a story. He writes stories with our lives because He does things through them - through us! He draws people to Him, He brings people out of darkness, He feeds and clothes people, He fills them with joy, He shows people their value, He redeems broken, ugly things and makes them beautiful.

At the crux of being a willing participant in the story God has for us is surrendering. I have had to set aside all of my ideas of what my life should look like and say "God, I want YOU and what YOU want for me more than I want anything else in my life. There is nothing else I desire - just You." I don't want to settle for ordinary, when God is calling me to a crazy, wild adventure with Him. Does it scare me? YES!!!!!!!!!!!! When we look at the people in the Bible who were close friends with Jesus, it didn't end too well for most of them...beheadings, prison stays, beatings, hanging upside down on crosses...being stoned to death. As they walked with Jesus they often didn't know where their next meal was coming from or where they would lay their head or what a single day would hold. BUT. Their willingness to be a part of the story Jesus had for them changed the course of history. A band of 12 men started the spread of the gospel all over the world. They healed the sick. They spoke boldly and did miraculous things in the face of danger because they believed living out God's story for them was more important than anything that could harm their physical bodies.

I want that. Even when the world may look at me and think the way I live my life is crazy and doesn't make sense and that I'm more than a little "out there". I want God's story for me more than I want my own comfort. More than I want safety and security. More than I want the American dream. More than I want to be liked.  More than I want the things that make me happy. My happiness and joy is found in living out the story God is writing with my life.

This trip to Ethiopia is just another chapter in my story, but I have this unshakable sense that it will be a defining one. I have a high anticipation of how God is going to show up...I'm not just excited about the trip - I am expectant and hungry for what God will do and how He will reveal Himself. I just want more of Him. I want people there to experience Him in profound and real ways that leave them no room for doubt. Heck, I want that for myself!!

So, I'm embracing my story - the one that has already been written (despite some of its ugliness and darkness) and the continued story that I have yet to experience. God is good, guys. Even when our circumstances are not, God is. And He's worth everything. It's all trash apart from Him.

Praying that we not only embrace the story God is writing with our lives, but that we pursue it, that we seek it, that we run after it with all that we are.

Psalm 107
Let the redeemed of the LORD tell their story— those he redeemed from the hand of the foe, Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind, for he satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things. He brought them out of darkness, the utter darkness, and broke away their chains. Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind, He sent out his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave. Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love!

Bending Low

"Our only real Home is Christ and Cross, and the cross is endlessly raised where the poor bow. The poor give us this — turn us from the illusion of climbing ladders and never invite us to go higher, but to come lower — to where Christ is — to the lonely, the lost and the least.

It’s our burden of stuff that blinds us and the real danger of wealth is that it causes us to lose our vision — our vision of Christ.

 

The poor might release the rich and the rich might release the poor and only Christ can release us all from blindness to really see — and it is contemplating the love of Christ that makes us act out the love of Christ."

 - Ann Voskamp

Shedding This Skin

"Some of the impossible things we're believing God for will never happen in our lives if we stand in hope instead of walking in faith." -Steven Furtick

I'm typing these words while I'm smiling and shaking my head at myself.  Why do I doubt God's care and provision?  What is it that sometimes makes me think that His words are for everyone else but me?  1 John 5:14 says "This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.  And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him."  But, I've got to fess up...I don't live like God has heard me.  Often, I live a "well, wouldn't it be nice if this would actually work out" kind of life...a life of small faith.  My small faith protects me from disappointment when things don't go the way I thought they would or should.  My small faith keeps me from having to face hard questions or do scary things.

How sad.  Because I love and serve a HUMONGOUS God who desires that I have a humongous faith.  And slowly and surely, I think I just might be taking baby steps towards a faith that does more justice to the faithfulness and character of the God I serve.  I think that at the root of my small faith is fear. Big, ugly, nasty fear. Fear that God might not come through and so I don't want to risk anything just in case. My friend, Cozette shared something a few nights ago that struck a huge chord with me. Do I live under an orphan mentality or an adoption mentality? Orphans are alone...they cling to what they have because they don't know if they'll get more. They have no one to trust and no one to care for them. But as an adopted daughter of the ultimate Father, I can trust His love for me. I can know that at His very core he is Daddy...full of love and goodness. I know that He only desires my good. I can trust that if He removes something from my hand, it's only so that He can fill it up with something better. He is not a taker. He is a Giver...every good and perfect gift comes from Him.

We talked at church on Wednesday night about Isaiah 41 where God says that we don't have to fear because He is our God and will strengthen and HELP us.  It seems like a relatively simple truth when you first read it:

God wants to help us.  GOD wants to help us.  God WANTS to help us.  God wants to HELP us.  God wants to help US. 

Suddenly, what is simple becomes beautiful and somewhat unbelievable!  And yet it is true.  We have nothing to fear because God always gives us what we need.  He always provides.  I have seen it time and time again.

...Growing up my dad was laid off for months and we didn't have money to pay the bills.  So, as a family we  prayed together and asked God to provide for us.  People anonymously sent us money to pay the bills just when we needed them...over and over again until my dad got a job.

...I lost a college scholarship due to funding issues and my tuition was due...I faced having to drop out.  One night while vaccumming at Eddie Bauer where I worked, I found a loose diamond among the dust bunnies on the floor.  I turned it in, but since no one claimed it, it was given to me since I had found it.  I sold it and paid my tuition.

...After being awakened to the orphan crisis in Africa, we felt like we were supposed to go to Uganda to witness it firsthand.  We had no money for the trip but people donated their sky miles to us for free tickets and God provided the rest through amazing people who just gave us the money.

...We knew we were supposed to adopt, but had $1,000 out of the $25,000 needed to start the process.  God said to start anyway.  So we did and little by little money showed up out of nowhere to pay all our expenses. 

...We got to the point in our adoption where it was time to book our tickets to go to Ethiopia to get our son.  It was so expensive!  We booked two roundtrip tickets but only the charge for one ticket showed up in our bank account.  I called the airline to tell them that we weren't charged for the other ticket.  After hours on the phone, the lady said "I don't know what to tell you, ma'am.  Your ticket has been paid for." Well, okay then!

...And then it came time to go to Ethiopia again to work with a feeding program.  Financial hurdle after financial hurdle was thrown at me.  Three weeks ago I had zero dollars for this trip.  Today I am almost fully funded.

...We wanted to take water filter straws to Ethiopia for the 150 kids in the feeding program so that they can stick their staw into any dirty water and have it enter their bodies as clean water.  That's $1500 to raise in the next two weeks.  I got an email last night from someone saying that it was no problem and they'd write a check and fully fund all 150 kids with clean water straws!

...I mentioned the need for used clothing for the kids and it looks like I'll have 4 suitcases worth to take.

...My church just talked about generosity on Wednesday night and challenged us all to choose one thing that is valuable to us and sell it.  The proceeds from these items will be given to me to take to the leper colony when I go for needs that arise on the ground for these people.

Yes, indeed.  "Do not fear, for I am your God....I will strengthen and help you."  And He has.  Over and over again.  He is always moving...always working...always willing to help.  We need but ask.  Asking propels us forward out of our small faith into the realms of possibility that exist with our humongous God. 

Get me out of this skin that keeps God small and me safe! I want to shed it and leave it far behind.  His love is so wide, so high, so deep...no one can fathom how He desires to move on men's behalf!

An Afternoon Well Spent

Today wasn't unlike any other day off work for me.  I had bills to pay, a grocery run to make, a house to clean, laundry to do, children to spend time with, dinner to get ready, emails to respond to...you get the idea. But for the past few days since writing my last blog post about how compassion is ultimately about relationship, I just haven't been able to shake something. 

Bear with me as I try to put to words what is even difficult for me to identify in my own heart.  I am passionate about orphans and issues of poverty.  My heart is especially drawn to Ethiopia, where my son came from.  I spend a significant amount of time trying to advocate and develop relationships with people in Ethiopia who are doing great work to help those in need.  Sometimes people will tell me how great it is that I'm doing these things.  And it IS great!  But, guess what?  It's easy for me in so many ways.  It's what I'm passionate about...it's where my heart is...it's how I want to be spending my time.  It's not really hard for me to do because I LOVE it!!  Many of these interactions and relationships are with people across an ocean, which is fine, BUT what about the people right here where I live? 

This started me thinking about how God says to "love your neighbor as yourself".  I've done a great deal of soul searching in past years that has lead me to realize that my neighbors are in Africa, but they are also right here.  I feel like sometimes I'm so busy with what I do in Africa that I forget to open my eyes and see what's right in front of my face. And sometimes, to see what is right in front of you, you have to be intentional.  

So, today, the kids and I decided to go downtown to Acacia Park, where many homeless people hang out, and take them lunch.  I was going to just make peanut butter sandwiches and take down bottled water, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I was supposed to do something more.  So, I packed up the kids, hauled them to Subway and bought $50 worth of subs.  I know I'd prefer a Subway sandwich to PB&J any day, and I just felt like I was to sacrifice for the people we met.  On the drive downtown, the kids and I talked for 15 minutes about what we were doing and why.  Really, the only exposure they have had to homelessness in the U.S. was about a month and a half ago when we were eating downtown on the outside patio and a homeless man named Ron came up to us and struck up a conversation for 15 minutes.  We gave him some cash and explained the basics of his situation to the kids afterward.  So, when I started explaining what we might see, Ella said "Oh!  You mean like that man, Ron we met?".  Yep.  

So, we pulled up to the park and I took a few minutes to pray with the kids before we got out of the car.  Tariku prayed and asked God to help us show love to the people we gave food to.  Precious, considering his own personal history with hunger.  We finished praying and I was strangely not nervous at all.  I was excited to see what the afternoon would bring.  So, we got out of the car and started walking down the street. We got to the corner to cross over into the park, and guess who walked around the corner at that very moment? Ron.  I almost started laughing out loud at the opportunity.  I called his name and at first he didn't answer, so I called it louder, realizing it's probably been a very long time since anyone has called him by name.  He looked up and recognized us instantly.  I gave him a hug and told him we were so glad we ran into him.  I asked him how he was and he started telling us how he had gotten jumped a week ago and was in the hospital for four days with broken ribs and other injuries.  The guy who jumped him stole his backpack with all of his belongings so now he is starting over.  We hung out for a while with Ron and gave him a sub and a cold water.  He just kept talking with us.  As our conversation drew to a close, I asked him if it would be okay if we prayed for him.  So, my three little ones and I put our hands on him right there on the corner and prayed for God to provide for him, protect him and help him get back on his feet.  He had a tear in his eye as we all said Amen together.  We all hugged him and told him we'd be praying for him and that we'd look for him again soon.  

How cool is that?!  Not even 60 seconds out of our car and there was Ron.  The kids and I talked immediately about how God answered our prayer to be able to bless someone and how important it was to take time to spend with the people we were bringing food to.  Sweet little Tariku said that what we should have done was take him to buy a new backpack.  DUH!!  How come it can be so obvious to children what needs to be done?!  

Anyway, we spotted an elderly man curled up on the ground in the shade napping with his arms tightly around his pack.  I gently tucked a sandwich bag under his arm and we left.  Tariku said I did a good job not waking him up. :) Then we walked over to a group of guys who were hanging out on some rocks.  I just told them that we had some extra subs if they were interested.  Their faces lit up and of course they said yes. So, we sat down and talked with Sam, from Southern Arizona and Connan from Colorado Springs.  They kept saying how nice it was of us to give them subs.  I told them that as a family we were learning together how to care about the people around us, whether we know them or not and they kindly affirmed that we were doing a good job. :)  We hung out for a little bit while they ate and just talked.  

After that, all 10 subs were gone, so we walked about 100 feet to the fountain and the kids ran into the water to play.  Not long after that, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned around to see Connan.  He was eating the rest of the sub that I had watched him put in his pants pocket for later.  He asked me my name again and I told him.  Then he just said that he couldn't get over what a nice thing we had done for him.  He said we were like angels. :)  I asked him to tell me his story. It was then that he said how rough things were for him.  He showed me the scar on his throat from where he had a tracheotomy.  He said that he was 31 and had had a job before he was diagnosed with a certain disease (I'm blanking on it right now) and had spent an extended period of time hospitalized.  He now is mildly disabled due to his illness.  He told me that life had just been very hard and that he was a hard worker but no one would hire him due to his disability.  I told him that I was sorry he had encountered that kind of hardship in his life, but that I firmly believed God had plans for his life and that he could count on that. I told him that I believed in the love of God and that He hears us when we pray and that I would commit to praying for him.  I gave him a hug and he thanked me again for taking the time to talk with him and feed him.  

And there you have it...he thanked me for taking the time to talk with him.  It's exactly what I was getting at in my blog post a few days ago.  People want our presence.  And today, I took the time to give it.  Why in the world don't I do that more often?!  It was so great to do this with my children and have them be an active part.  I am so thankful that God is showing me it only takes willingness and intention to live compassionately toward the people around me.  I can't wait to do this again and again with my kids and teach them how to look for opportunities wherever they are to stop, listen and give of themselves.  

I'm so glad God puts up with me. I can be so slow to see the obvious.  I'm so thankful for my experience with my kids this afternoon.  Praying that I can see those around me who could use some time and attention.  Praying that I'm willing to give it, no matter how uncomfortable...no matter the cost.  Because it's beautiful.

Just Be

When among the suffering we find that they do not so much need the skills of our hands or the knowledge of our minds as they do the compassion of our hearts. It is as if the suffering person extends an invitation to us saying ‘Before you do anything FOR me, please come alongside me. Enter into communion with me so that you can BE with me in my pain. Walk alongside me as my friend and companion.’ – Trevor Hudson

I love this quote because I think it houses a very important truth for us: Compassion is ultimately about presence. An outflow of compassion can be giving of our finances, resources and skills, but at the end of the day while those things might help display a compassionate heart, compassion is really about relationship. Compassion is about coming alongside someone in the midst of their pain and struggle and just being there. Pain involves discomfort. Entering into someone else’s struggle IS uncomfortable. But, it’s how life is meant to be lived. It’s how we know that love is genuine…we intentionally enter the murkiness of someone’s situation because that’s what love does. It gets dirty. It is willing to suffer with someone.

I don’t know about you, but my instinct is to fix whatever situation is causing pain. And sometimes, we CAN do things that help fix a problem. But I have come to realize that there are just some situations that I can’t fix (yeah, I’m a little slow on the uptake sometimes!). There are many difficult circumstances in which I can’t offer anyone anything but myself. Problems caused by extreme poverty like I’ve witnessed in Africa can send me running to put my head in the sand because they are so overwhelming. But it’s precisely my interactions with people in some of those extremely difficult situations that have helped me to see that Trevor Hudson is right on… People in pain want our presence. They want to know that someone cares. More than they want us to DO something for them, they want us to BE with them.

I saw this played out in Africa so many times. I would visit with people in impossible situations and they wouldn’t ask me for anything. Not a penny, not a drop of water, not a bit of food. Nothing. They would simply thank me for coming and spending time with them. It was so humbling…so astounding to me.

I find myself again about to go back to Africa. A leper colony called Korah in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia has captured my heart and I can’t get back fast enough. Most of the trips I have gone on in the past have rushed me from one community to another, and I’ve tried to take in as much as possible in as little time as possible. These trips have left me with crucial glimpses into the realities others face in the world, but with little time to just “BE” with the people that I met.

So, that is what this upcoming trip is all about. Just being with the people. I have no intention to run from once place to another trying to fit a bunch of stuff in. Aside from providing some clean water filters, doing some fun activities with the kids in the feeding program, and providing some basic medical attention, I don’t really even have big plans to be “doing” things for the people I spend time with. This time around I just want to be present. I want to hear their stories, share meals together, hold their children, laugh with them, cry with them, pray with them. I want them to know they are valuable. I want to KNOW them.

Yemamu and his father

My friend, Yemamu, is Ethiopian and runs a NGO (non-government organization) called Hands for the Needy in Korah. He grew up in Korah with his parents who both have leprosy. His father begs in the city and his mother embroiders trying to make a living. Yemamu has chosen to stay in Korah, despite opportunities he has received to leave it. He wants to help the people in his community. He has just started a feeding program in Korah and so we are going to serve alongside him and get to know the people he is helping in hopes of establishing long term relationships. I hope to come back with some very practical ways that we can help partner with Yemamu in the work that he is doing in Korah. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to spending an extended period of time in one place with one group of people.

So...who, you might ask, am I going to Ethiopia with??  Well, I wish my hubby could go with me this time around, but he'll be getting back from a trip to Swaziland the day before I leave for Ethiopia.  So, not this time. But, I am going with some GREAT people!

Meet Lindsey.  She's a fellow adoptive mama to two precious little Ethiopian angels (and soon to another girl from Thailand!), a children's author, an attorney, a blogger, an orphan advocate, an Africa lover...and I could go on and on.  While all those things are great, I just love her because she knows how to love God, love people.  We are lucky enough to have her fireman hubby, Le, come along with us too! Poor guy...the only male among us crazy women! I am so glad he will be joining us!  Hope he feels the same way by the time it's all said and done!   

Meet Abbey.  She just moved to Colorado Springs about a month ago and she is a nurse who wants to use her skills in Ethiopia with me.  I truly can't tell you what having her along on this trip will mean! Medical help is invaluable!! I met her right after she moved here and asked if she'd be interested in joining us and she willingly jumped right on board! Love that!  I’m not going to go into all the details, but suffice it to say that we both have some unforeseen, crazy, God size financial hurdles to overcome in the next week.  However, this past week I have seen God provide in some really cool ways, which is so encouraging!

My church has set up a way for funds to be donated that are tax deductible that will go directly to my Ethiopia trip. It’s really humbling and frankly more than a little embarrassing to be an adult fundraising for a $2,000 trip to Ethiopia but I feel like I just need to humble myself and put the need out there. These people are worth it!!  If you feel so inclined, you can click HERE and donate online, being certain to note “Amy Savage Ethiopia Trip” in the notes section. If you prefer to mail a check, please indicate “Amy Savage Ethiopia Trip” in the memo section and it can be sent to:

The Movement Church
PO Box 62891
Colorado Springs, CO
80962-2891 

Oh, and just in case you come away with the wrong idea…we can practice the gift of presence anytime, anyplace and with anyone. You don’t have to go to Ethiopia to find someone who needs you to come alongside them (although I highly recommend it!).  I’m learning that if we just slow down and take the time to open our eyes, we’ll see that there are lots of people in need of a little presence. They may be in our families, down our streets or through the doors of our workplaces. They are there. And they need compassion in the form of companionship and presence.  I hope we choose to see them.