september 1
the stench of filth and feces wafts up to my nose... I find myself repulsed. but only for a moment. the minute that little one crawls into my arms, the repulsion melts. she just wants the warmth of an embrace... someone in whose arms she can be cradled to sleep. some say that love is blind, but i'm learning that it just has no sense of smell ;)"
Saturday, October 24, 2009
lean on me (2)
Those 4 guys in the bible who brought their lame friend in to be healed…they must’ve walked for miles, on a dusty road, in sandals or no shoes at all, carrying their friend the whole way. And when they arrived—the room was full. That didn’t deter them. They found some stairs, carried him up, proceeded to untile a roof, and then used all of their might to lower him into the room?! What friends! And Jesus healed him. He picked up his mat and he walked out- a lame man! He might never have been given wholeness and healing (and I’m not just talking about physically!) if it weren’t for the persistence of his friends. And I wonder sometimes…if maybe Jesus chose to heal him because he saw the persistence of his friends….
Where I am from if my friend is in the hospital maybe i send flowers or go for a visit….but these 8 men…they challenge me. I want to be that kind of friend…....
Where I am from if my friend is in the hospital maybe i send flowers or go for a visit….but these 8 men…they challenge me. I want to be that kind of friend…....
lean on me (1)
july 21, 2009
On one of many of my journeys back and forth from yetebon…………
As we drove, it was getting dark. No longer light enough to read my newspaper. I looked up to see a group of friends propping up an obviously sick man on top of a horse. Wherever they were taking him I’m sure it was somewhere to get help...
At home we get sick and go to the emergency room. At the very worst call an ambulance, or a helicopter. In 5 min help arrives and we are whisked off to the best medical care and most plush accommodations in the world.
Here, no such option exists. No matter where you are it is a long journey to get to any sort of medical care. And even that is only slightly better than home care at best---IF there is someone at the facility, IF they have adequate supplies available, IF there is electricity, IF they can scrimp together to afford whatever medicine they may need…. IF.
And odds are those friends had been walking that man for many miles… it makes me think of 4 other friends who went to similar lengths on behalf of their friend…"
On one of many of my journeys back and forth from yetebon…………
As we drove, it was getting dark. No longer light enough to read my newspaper. I looked up to see a group of friends propping up an obviously sick man on top of a horse. Wherever they were taking him I’m sure it was somewhere to get help...
At home we get sick and go to the emergency room. At the very worst call an ambulance, or a helicopter. In 5 min help arrives and we are whisked off to the best medical care and most plush accommodations in the world.
Here, no such option exists. No matter where you are it is a long journey to get to any sort of medical care. And even that is only slightly better than home care at best---IF there is someone at the facility, IF they have adequate supplies available, IF there is electricity, IF they can scrimp together to afford whatever medicine they may need…. IF.
And odds are those friends had been walking that man for many miles… it makes me think of 4 other friends who went to similar lengths on behalf of their friend…"
wedding season (2)
Taxi to my friends hotel. No idea if they are there. Find them sitting in the lobby- of course that would happen. Hit the roof for dinner- 7 stories high. Might as well be the top of the world. Tin roofs and shanties as far as the eye can see. Home to millions. Sunset and city lights. Beauty in the breakdown. There’s something fishy: tuna sandwich, spicy mustard, and French fries. yumm. Cold water is a treat. On the way down we run into a wedding party procession. Before I can blink my hand is grabbed and I’m pulled in despite my protests—I am underdressed! The bride and grooms parents welcome me warmly. “Du nah nesh” good thing I learned my Amharic greetings. Sister of the bride designates me a seat. I must regretfully decline—my ride is here. Some other time.
Its’ wedding season. Only here- if you invite 50, you expect 500 people. And that’s a small wedding. The Ethiopian way- an all day affair beginning with breakfast at the bride’s, events snowballing into dinner hosted by the groom’s family. They know how to party. Traditionally, for 2-3 months following the wedding- friends and fam of the bride and groom throw the wedding party a dinner every weekend. Quite a Kodak moment and I missed it. No camera. Oh well, I’ve got the still frames in my mind."
Its’ wedding season. Only here- if you invite 50, you expect 500 people. And that’s a small wedding. The Ethiopian way- an all day affair beginning with breakfast at the bride’s, events snowballing into dinner hosted by the groom’s family. They know how to party. Traditionally, for 2-3 months following the wedding- friends and fam of the bride and groom throw the wedding party a dinner every weekend. Quite a Kodak moment and I missed it. No camera. Oh well, I’ve got the still frames in my mind."
wedding season (1)
July 20
its funny how most things in Africa move at a pace as slow as molasses, but at the drop of a hat things can happen like lightening...
plans to meet friends for pizza quickly foiled as I show up to the blue top restaurant and its closed. Silly me. it's monday. All by myself at rush hour.yes car traffic, but more so people rushing to catch the next form of public transit. Shoulder to shoulder at times. Can’t help but stand out. So as not to become an easy target- I walk. “look like you know where you are going,” I rehearse in my head. “Firenje!” kids shout as I walk by. Little ladies shriveled by the side of the road. Alms for the poor. Shoe shine boys line the streets—they want my business—I’m wearing flip-flops. Students bustling to and from the university. Sidewalk cafes filled to the brim. Smell the roast of Ethiopian coffee beans. macchiatos. Trash-filled potholes line the muddy streets. Fresh rain. I round the block to pass by once again. Head up. Eyes forward. Hand on bag. Be wise. I turn many eyes, but only catch a few. Big grin. blue top is still closed- yes, it’s still Monday.
No sign of my friends. Busy intersection. Back into a corner so I’m not such a spectacle. Safe haven. Watch the world go by. Thank heaven for cell phones. You can talk on them even if no one is on the other end and look like you know what you are doing. Time to plot plan b. sweet little girl offers me a kernel off of her cob of “bokolo;” a precious gift. tickled I know the Amharic word. Older brother scolds her- she is supposed to be begging. Instead she offers me her hand. We smile. Time to leave my spot I suppose."
its funny how most things in Africa move at a pace as slow as molasses, but at the drop of a hat things can happen like lightening...
plans to meet friends for pizza quickly foiled as I show up to the blue top restaurant and its closed. Silly me. it's monday. All by myself at rush hour.yes car traffic, but more so people rushing to catch the next form of public transit. Shoulder to shoulder at times. Can’t help but stand out. So as not to become an easy target- I walk. “look like you know where you are going,” I rehearse in my head. “Firenje!” kids shout as I walk by. Little ladies shriveled by the side of the road. Alms for the poor. Shoe shine boys line the streets—they want my business—I’m wearing flip-flops. Students bustling to and from the university. Sidewalk cafes filled to the brim. Smell the roast of Ethiopian coffee beans. macchiatos. Trash-filled potholes line the muddy streets. Fresh rain. I round the block to pass by once again. Head up. Eyes forward. Hand on bag. Be wise. I turn many eyes, but only catch a few. Big grin. blue top is still closed- yes, it’s still Monday.
No sign of my friends. Busy intersection. Back into a corner so I’m not such a spectacle. Safe haven. Watch the world go by. Thank heaven for cell phones. You can talk on them even if no one is on the other end and look like you know what you are doing. Time to plot plan b. sweet little girl offers me a kernel off of her cob of “bokolo;” a precious gift. tickled I know the Amharic word. Older brother scolds her- she is supposed to be begging. Instead she offers me her hand. We smile. Time to leave my spot I suppose."
treasures of darkness...
july 14
oh sweet child...in the eyes of many, you are poor.
but I see the riches you possess.
you may not have electricity,
but you have a million stars that blanket the sky.
you may not have a fancy ipod,
but you are lulled to sleep each night by a chorus
of a thousand crickets.
you may not have the latest fashions,
but you get to run barefoot through the grass and
squish the mud between your toes.
you may not have a million toys,
but you have the imagination to make 1 toy
into a million things.
you may not have the warmth of a winter coat,
but you have the arms of family to hold you close.
you may not have a bath tub,
but you have the freshness of the rainfall that
touches your cheeks.
you may not have a fancy house and fine things,
but what a view from your front door—
majestic mountains, lush landscape…
oh sweet child…I see how rich you are---
and in fact, how poor I am. For I am a slave
to comfort and to things.
I find myself wanting what you have:
the freedom of simplicity.
funny how the grass is always greener….
oh sweet child...in the eyes of many, you are poor.
but I see the riches you possess.
you may not have electricity,
but you have a million stars that blanket the sky.
you may not have a fancy ipod,
but you are lulled to sleep each night by a chorus
of a thousand crickets.
you may not have the latest fashions,
but you get to run barefoot through the grass and
squish the mud between your toes.
you may not have a million toys,
but you have the imagination to make 1 toy
into a million things.
you may not have the warmth of a winter coat,
but you have the arms of family to hold you close.
you may not have a bath tub,
but you have the freshness of the rainfall that
touches your cheeks.
you may not have a fancy house and fine things,
but what a view from your front door—
majestic mountains, lush landscape…
oh sweet child…I see how rich you are---
and in fact, how poor I am. For I am a slave
to comfort and to things.
I find myself wanting what you have:
the freedom of simplicity.
funny how the grass is always greener….
it's like ra-a-ain
july 11
afternoon with the kids outside the dorm. Pingpong. Basketball. Beauty parlor. English lessons. The thunder booms. The lightning claps. The cloudy mist moves in. we run for cover. Torrential downpour. Roads turn into rivers. Not a soul is dry. The boys sport deflated basketballs as hats as they join us under the awning (quite creative I must say!).
outside the compound banana leaf umbrellas will have to do. Life must move on. Finally patches of blue sky break. It’s a beautiful day. Where I once despised the rain, now I pray for it; and dance in it when it comes. In a land where water is scarce, the rain upon my face is as welcome as sun kisses on a dreary day. Without water, life doesn’t exist. Without rain, there is no water(or electricity as ethiopia depends on hydro electric power!).
Think of us tonight when you brush your teeth. Remember how lucky you are to have any water, let alone water that is not disease ridden, and please conserve. We can meet simple needs in a complicated world; just add water. Bridgingthegapthroughgiving.org
to see more about the project i'm currently working on (setting up a system of wells and pipes that will supply thousands of people with clean water) email me or maybe i'll get the proposal posted to my blog :)"
afternoon with the kids outside the dorm. Pingpong. Basketball. Beauty parlor. English lessons. The thunder booms. The lightning claps. The cloudy mist moves in. we run for cover. Torrential downpour. Roads turn into rivers. Not a soul is dry. The boys sport deflated basketballs as hats as they join us under the awning (quite creative I must say!).
outside the compound banana leaf umbrellas will have to do. Life must move on. Finally patches of blue sky break. It’s a beautiful day. Where I once despised the rain, now I pray for it; and dance in it when it comes. In a land where water is scarce, the rain upon my face is as welcome as sun kisses on a dreary day. Without water, life doesn’t exist. Without rain, there is no water(or electricity as ethiopia depends on hydro electric power!).
Think of us tonight when you brush your teeth. Remember how lucky you are to have any water, let alone water that is not disease ridden, and please conserve. We can meet simple needs in a complicated world; just add water. Bridgingthegapthroughgiving.org
to see more about the project i'm currently working on (setting up a system of wells and pipes that will supply thousands of people with clean water) email me or maybe i'll get the proposal posted to my blog :)"
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