Love Does

We all know the phrase, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” This is Ethiopia: its land, smells and people in a nutshell. When I first arrived, smells were the first thing I noticed. Some were hard to place, a few were new, others were much more obvious. Since I’ve been here, I’ve grown accustomed to what I’m smelling and understand a majority of them. Ones I didn’t like or were hard to place now remind me of food and customs I’ve shared with new friends while bonding over mutual appreciations and smiles all around. Ones that I know, I can spot and brings back a smile to my face over memories made. Coffee for instance and invaluable memories made learning the importance placed on friendships and the honor bestowed upon us to be welcomed into their homes.

Beauty is everywhere in this land if you take the time to stop and appreciate it. Where there is a small flower growing next to a garbage pile, beautiful trees against dilapidated corrugated metal long forgotten or in bright green hills contrasted with the red dirt beneath. The beauty of the trees here are nothing like I’ve ever seen, well except for in iconic “this is Africa” in a National Geographic. This land is beautiful!

But the people steal the show and they steal our hearts. We were exposed to many ministries in Ethiopia while we were here, whose hearts all beat as one. Taking care of the widows, the sick and women and children. They are helping these people by giving them a hand up, not a hand out. These directors and leaders literally have a glow about them. The beauty from within is blatantly abundant and obvious. Their crowns will be amongst the most beautiful in Heaven.

In addition to the ministries, the people of Ethiopia are beautiful as well! I’ve noticed that it’s easy to make eye contact and keep it with them. In a world where I don’t know the language, I have absorbed the greetings they make with their eyes and eyebrows. I have really absorbed the looks, kindness and fascination that they have with making eye contact. I feel an immediate connection to them through that simple act and it’s one of the happiest moments of my day. The joy that spreads from their eyes to their lips knows no bounds, no class separation or language division. My prayer as we interact briefly as we pass by each other is that they will not see me, but see Jesus loving them. Like I see in my fellow Ethiopian brothers and sisters.

We sing the song Beautiful Things, with the children and it’s a perfect way to sum up Addis Ababa and all of Ethiopia.

All this pain

I wonder if I’ll ever find my way

I wonder if my life could really change at all

All this earth

Could all that is lost ever be found

Could a garden come up from this ground at all

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

All around

Hope is springing up from this old ground

Out of chaos life is being found in You

If you have the blessed opportunity to come here, I pray that you won’t judge this book by its cover. Open it up and immerse yourself. I feel as if I’ve just begun to crack open the book and it’s titled, Ethiopia and its Beauty!

 

Preparing for this trip I read books, had discussions, searched the internet, and tried to prepare myself. I thought I was prepared. I was naive. Nothing can prepare you for how real this poverty is in Ethiopia. Nothing can prepare you for the beauty and joy you find in these children. The hope that lies in each one of them. God is working here in so many ways. He was here long before we came!

The school that the kids of Bring Love In attend is called Safari School. Safari means journey. They picked this name because they believe learning is a continuous process with no ending. I believe that this is also true for your faith. It’s a continual process of growing stronger and stronger. It’s so easy to become content in your faith and stop pursuing God. To unintentionally stop building your relationship because things are going okay and you don’t need to lean on Him as much, or at least think that. I will never be as close to Him as I want to be but will strive to bridge that gap while here on earth. This trip has been about so much more than helping the children of Bring Love In. It’s been about compassion, love, relationships, hope, heartache, selflessness, and growing in faith.

My favorite part of each day with the Bring Love In kids was the singing we did in the afternoon. Brandon always has a way of speaking to my heart during worship but watching these kids sing the words of Beautiful Things and Good Good Father when they don’t have a good earthly father reminds me that He is a Good Good Father to these kids and each one of us. He can make Beautiful Things out of all of our pain and suffering! My days in Ethiopia have been filled with joy, heartache, love, pain, and change. Change in my heart, change in my thankfulness, and change in the way I view all of God’s children. I have learned so much about the person I want to be and want to model to my kids and people around me.

God has blessed me in so many ways. I realize now it’s for the purpose to be a blessing to others. To serve Him and be His hands and feet. I have heard that said so many times, “be His hands and feet”, and can say that it truly resonates with me now. I was made for a purpose! God has broken my heart for the things that break His.

– Jessica

Drives to the Safari School, where we teach the Bring Love In kids, play in our minds like a blurred, disturbing video. When our eyes meet those of desperation, it’s as if they sear a mental tattoo into our minds. We are all asking “Now what?” in our own ways.

This is a difficult and delicate time of working out our salvation, being intentionally aware of the still small voice that whispers “Do you love me? Do you trust me? Do you know that I am a good Father?” Sometimes it’s hard and confusing to trust a God that allows such pain in our lives and those around us. And, yet, He promises in Matthew 12:20 that “a bruised reed He will not break.” We need only to surrender to Him alone.

These people are bruised. When a family who so desperately needs water is bombarded by a flash flood in their humble shack, forcing them to quickly hang everything on the walls, they are bruised. When a landfill resident and her children have to be dug out of a landslide of putrid trash that kills hundreds of her neighbors, they are bruised. When all the orphans at A-Hope For Children are abandoned by society because they are labeled HIV positive, they are bruised. When a family uses a dirty sleeping mat to serve as their home while our van casually passes by within 3 feet, they are bruised. When my son and I visit our sponsored child’s family in Uganda who continuously struggle to barely make ends meet, they are bruised. Life seems to continuously slap these precious people in the face without hesitation, without remorse.

A bruised reed He will not break.

Our Heavenly Father, in His love and infinite wisdom, permits this pain. Whatever His reasons, I know He is a good, good Father. His plans are profoundly perfect and multifaceted and, yet, often misunderstood.

If the walls of the counseling room at the Bring Love In office could talk, they would sob. They have a beautiful mural painted on them, bearing encouraging verses. However, one wall bares an image of swaying reeds and is the only wall lacking a verse. The director, Birhan, has informed me that he will have Matthew 12:20 painted on that wall. So when that child who has experienced almost unspeakable pain that most of us will never know, reads those words from our Heavenly Father, they will hopefully realize that He acknowledges their pain and is there to bring healing and purpose to a bruised soul.

– Jen

We are halfway through our trip and what an adventure it’s been! Nothing is as humbling as getting sick. I woke up this morning to a pounding headache and a nauseous stomach, after trying to eat at least some breakfast I called it quits and asked to stay home for the day. Let’s just say it was a good thing I did.

Yesterday was the highlight of my trip, as I got to go visit my Compassion child! If you don’t know about Compassion, I highly recommend you look into it. Check it out here: www.compassion.com

Nels and I decided to start sponsoring a child back in November. We picked Mekdes specifically because she lived in Ethiopia, so that when I went this summer I could go and visit her.

As the team was preparing to go to Ethiopia, we dedicated a day of our trip to visit Compassion children. Five of us on the team sponsor a Compassion child. My child lives in Meki, which is about a three hour drive south of Addis. So the morning of the 24th, Kirsten, Logan, Chuck, Saumara, Malea and myself loaded up into a 10 passenger van. The drive was fun being able to get away from the smog and rain of Addis. We headed to the plains of Africa and the heat.

Upon arrival, I got to meet Mekdes and give her a hug as well as her twin sister. They spoke no English. We proceeded to have a coffee ceremony which included popcorn and bread. I was given the honor of cutting the embasha bread (similar to cutting the first piece of wedding cake). I gave Mekdes her present which included nail polish, a water bottle, a back pack, and a solar flashlight/radio. I painted her and her sisters’ fingernails. We played games, which include an Ethiopian version of jump rope and hopscotch.

Abraham – our Compassion host – then took us to Mekdes’ home. Her home is located in a small community. They have a communal well, and a local mill where they grind maize. She lives in a mud hut 6ft by 12ft. Mekdes and her sisters as well as her parents all live in the house (5 people). They have one bookshelf and one corner is reserved for sleeping. Her father works in the flower beds (roses grow the best in Ethiopia) and her mother works by selling her own liquor. Their rent is 200 birr a month, which is equivalent to $10 a month. We had another coffee ceremony, and even though we knew the water was not bottled we participated anyway. Hence the upset stomach today. Mekdes then presented me with a gift, an embroidered shirt. There is a loss for words here. I was then able to pray over their family and their house.

Our fun part of the afternoon was then being able to take Mekdes, her sisters and her mother all out to lunch. We went to Ziway, which was about thirty minutes down the road. After lunch we walked out to the lake, and Mekdes and I held hands and skipped. The joy I felt is indescribable, it brings me to tears writing about it. We played Rock, Paper, Scissors and looked at the birds and petted the herds of cows we walked though.

We had to get back in the car and head back at that point, and Mekdes fell asleep on my shoulder. We dropped them off at their home and I received the biggest, tightest hug from the sweetest child I know. As we pulled away I couldn’t help but cry my eyes out.

To sponsor a child is only $38 a month. I hope you consider sponsoring, it will change your life as it has changed mine.

– Grace

Wandering.

What a state of being.

It is like floating.

Indifferent to the movement that flows around me.

Weightless in the current of life that pushes me.

Forward. Forward.

Never stopping.

 

Here I stand.

The current of life flows around me.

A blur of colors. Faces. Sounds.

I am in the chasm.

Distant from that which drives the current.

Pain. Sorrow. Joy. Love.

I see souls wandering as I stand in the silence.

 

Silence permeates this space.

A space only I reside in.

All else is lost.

I am lost.

Lord save me from this space.

I feel unsure of what I hold onto for strength.

Yet, in the silence I feel You.

 

Your steadfast love keeps my footing.

Your grace manifests itself in the children.

They no longer wander.

They bring me closer to You.

Your mercy knows no bounds.

You bring me in.

You hold me close.

I am still. You are here.

 

Wandering.

Alongside of the Lord I float in His grace and mercy.

He gently brings me along to show me who He is.

A whisper of love reminding me to be still.

Be still in who He is.

For He will guide my wandering feet.

 

– Elise

 

Dear Lord,

Depth. Intensity. Longing. Confusion. Clarity. Joy. Love. Eyes. The eyes of your people speak wonders. They hold something our very mouths can not fathom at times; our inner beauty. Beauty that you have bestowed in each one of us. So much beauty. Such a sight it is to see the inner beauty of such diversity. Your work is magnanimous Lord. As I try and focus on the good, Lord, I can not help but to be consumed by the eyes in search of Your love. The eyes that long, long for something, something more. It saddens me Lord.

Eyes surround us. Everywhere we go. Eyes. Little eyes. Big eyes. All types of different eyes. All carrying a different background. A different story. Different emotions. Different hopes. Different dreams. All of which are created by Your hand, Lord. A hand that never falters.

As I continue to look deep into the depths of these beautiful people, I long to know the role You play within their lives. I struggle to separate my world from theirs. Two very different worlds. Worlds that contrast in just about every way. Reasoning is hard. Understanding is even harder.

I search for a steady heart. Reassurance.

Wondering what my eyes give way to. What do the eyes I look so deeply into see from mine. Do they see my struggle? My sadness. My frustration. My longing to help. In any way. Is It obvious that my heart breaks with every eye contact?

Teach me. Mold me. Continue to break my heart for what breaks yours, Lord.

Always yours,

Heather

How much of what we see in our daily lives do we discount and disregard as broken and worthless? How much of what we discount and disregard is priceless in God’s eyes?

There is no running water in the open air restrooms we use at the Safari Academy. The toilets have no valves or internal workings and the normal process we expect to happen when we pull the handle is instead performed by a remarkable group of ladies whose job it is to keep the school clean and presentable. They flush the toilets using a garden hose that is more plastic than rubber and has more repairs than anyone I know would contemplate making – it would have ended up in the trash long ago.

I was intrigued by the fixes; the amount of time, energy and thought that had gone into plugging the holes and fixing the defects caused by abuse to make it whole again. It was time spent on something most of us would have thrown away so it could fulfill the purpose it had be created for.

I believe that’s what God sees when he looks at the beautiful children broken by a broken world. Children abandoned by their parents to the streets or government orphanages where they are little more than a number on a tally sheet. Children who have no hope for a better tomorrow. Children whose only prayer is for safety and someone to love them.

But, where most pass by and look the other way, the people of Bring Love In step in, wrap their arms around these precious kids and put them together in new forever families where they are loved, cherished and given opportunities for a future free from fear and abandonment. Evidence of God’s work is everywhere in this ministry; it is both breathtaking and humbling.

Broken things can be fixed if we are willing. I pray for God to break my heart for the things that break his and to show me what he would have me do to help meet needs around me and serve where I am called.

So, as I looked at the hose and marveled at the time loving hands had spent making something so broken valuable again, I saw an old woman looking at me like I had lost my mind. I pointed at the repairs and in my pathetic Amharic said “thank you”. She nodded, gave me a knowing smile and said “welcome”. My life will never be the same.

– Chuck

Hi, it is the third day, and all I can say is I love the kids. That’s all – I love the kids. This will be short because that is all I can say. I love the kids. They are the most beautiful things I have ever seen, everything about them blows me away. The joy they have is like nothing I have ever found. They are treasure, everything about them is perfect and so unknown and new to me. Before Ethiopia my life was nothing, and it was actually completely nothing. I cannot feel any emotions which really irks me. My only need is to feel emotion, or to feel anything, and these kids have given me all emotion and all life back. Their life and love and their joy has filled me and I can only praise God.

One other thing I have to mention is the singing, or maybe the songs. Every day we sing after lunch, one song we learned was “Good Good Father”. This song has done nothing but break me and make me. Other than seeing the kids this is the thing I look forward to most. I love Jesus, I hope you love him too because he loves you.

Malea

I wish I knew what I wanted to say right now. I wish I could take the sights, sounds, and smells and bottle them up so you could experience them too. But on the other hand, I don’t. I don’t wish to do that because it absolutely breaks a person to see what you see in a world of broken, messy, and organized chaos. In fact, I feel that all I am doing is observing the world around me and taking it in, but my mind does not know what to do with these foreign, cluttered sights. I want to take each encounter of Addis and put it in a perfect box in my memory and stow it away for the rest of my life, but I am realizing that is not how this trip is going to work. Having experienced this trip last year, I thought I knew what to expect. I thought I had all the messy, dirty parts of Ethiopia seared into my brain so I wouldn’t have to work through it all over again. Boy, was I wrong. While I percolate on the brokenness of it all, let me instead tell you about a beautiful and precious memory I have so far.

If any of you followed our blog last year, you may have heard a thing or two about Kalkidan. Kalkidan is a fierce and wild soul that loves outrageously; and she loved my dad, Chuck. Needless to say, leaving her was tough. Yesterday was our first day of teaching English and seeing the kids. Miraculously, we arrived at the school before the busload of kids did so we unpacked and prepared for a whirlwind of a day. The next thing I know I see Kalkidan run into the room, jump into my dad’s arms, and scream, “Chuck!” with teeming delight. If I had to describe what it meant for your heart to smile, it would have been how I felt in that moment. She beamed with radiant joy as she gave me a hug as well. It was like I was home. It felt like I was right where I was supposed to be, lost in that moment, and loving the kids who have loved us so well.

I hope to have some grand “aha” moment by the time I get back, but that is not up to me. All I know is that I am standing here in Addis Ababa with arms wide open, praying that God would break my heart for the very things that break His. So far, He is answering that prayer like a flood. Until next time,

Jourdan

Five of us were here last year and we were all in shock at how much things had changed since a year ago.

First, nearly all of the roundabouts we went through last year are gone. They’ve been completely removed and paved, and in their place are new traffic signals with countdown timers. No more Bob Marley statue in the middle of the roundabout garden. Gone is the traffic circle with a memorial praising the country’s successful defense against foreign invaders during the First Italo-Ethiopian War.

Many of the villages that had been there along our drive around the edge of Addis have been bulldozed and replaced by 8 story, half-finished government apartment buildings where gentrification has been mandated by the government.

Ishy, our thoughtful driver who always gives us history lessons (and quizzes) as he chauffeurs us around Addis, has traded up his original van for a new, pre-loved Toyota that goes about twice as fast as his last van. His speedy new van plus the newly paved intersections has cut our 90 to 100-minute commute from last year down to about 35 minutes each way, a blessing which will allow our team more rest each day.

But what changed the most since last year are the kids. They have shot up in stature and confidence. During the first week of the trip, we get to teach ESL to the younger kids of Bring Love In. For them it is an English language immersion experience; for us it is seeing lives transformed. Having us here forces even the shyest kids to plunge into the deep end of the spoken English pool, and this year we have a slightly larger team in order to have even more individual discussion time.

This year we are lucky to have Luther Ramsey with us who runs the Bring Love In program from the states. Tonight at dinner he told us how nearly all of the kids in Bring Love In had biological dads who either died of AIDS or had just abandoned their kids, and many of their biological moms either died or were forced to put them into an orphanage because they couldn’t put food on the table. But 5 years after being adopted by Bring Love In and having new forever families, we see their confidence growing. They get their first picture of good, loving, godly dad from the men who are on staff at Bring Love In, replacing their experiences from the past, and giving them an example of biblical fatherhood. We see it when the boys and girls all run up to us with excitement and hugs for everyone. We see it when we ask the girls “Who braided your hair?” and they say, “my mom” with a big smile on their face.

We’re standing on the shoulders of the teams who went before us and the teachers, counselors and leaders who poured into these kids, who patiently cared for them and saw the image of God in them, treating them as His precious sons and daughters. It’s a foundation of love and hope laid by the prayers and support of the people who have financially committed to the kids of Bring Love In. When I asked the girls at my table what they want to study in college one said they want to be a counselor, another said heart surgeon because there are a lot of people with heart problems here in Ethiopia. I know 5 years ago when they were in a government orphanage they were more worried about where their next meal was coming from and didn’t have time to dream about their future.

At dinner tonight we went around the table and had each person tell us what they liked most about today. Jessica said, “the singing.” The kids had remembered all the words and parts we taught them last year for the song, “Beautiful Things”… a song that carries so much power in this context. The girls sing “You make me new; You are making me new.” All the kids sing “You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of us.” He’s making them all so beautiful, filling them with love and healing, new hopes and dreams, and I’m forced to remember that he does that equally, for all of us, even for me. Thank you God for your promises and for your change.

– Brandon

Our team rolled out of the Addis Ababa Bole International Airport around the same time a sizable thunderstorm was rolling in. The cool mountain wind gave us a surprisingly “Bozeman” kind of welcome to Ethiopia. Our friends Ishy, Ephraim, and crew skillfully loaded our large pile of 50lb suitcases atop a van, and we drove off as the rain and lightning descended on us. As we tooled along the streets of Addis, familiar sights, sounds, and smells returned – familiar but not diminished. Bustling commerce living beside poverty, people in every stage of life, everywhere, doing everything. Sometimes I have no idea what they are doing. They seem to be waiting. We arrived at the guesthouse in a heavy rain and pulled all our bags inside. They had received a good soaking, but nothing that some time inside couldn’t dry out. Lightning was still crashing around us.

Not to be too clever here, but I think God has some more storms to stir up… if we let Him. The kind of storms that blow around inside a person… Pollution-cleansing rains (fresh starts), winds that mess up your hair (and plans), and close calls as the sky sends down cracks of lightning. There will be foreboding moments of darkness, uncomfortable downpours of water from the sky, and foggy van windows preventing us from seeing all that we think we should be able to see at that moment. Because God uses discomfort and uncertainty to bring things to our attention – namely Himself and our place in His world. And then, each day this week and next we get to see the bright young faces of the kids of Bring Love In. Some are hiding deep pains of the past while displaying genuine smiles that represent their joy of the moment. Pain and joy, dancing together in the rain, in the storm. Stay tuned.

– Logan