the journey

I have lately, maybe more than any other time in my life, felt like I am on a journey.  I feel like this magnificent journey started almost a year ago when I took a trip to North Carolina to visit friends and entered once again into the office of a dear friend, Lyston Peebles.  He is one of the many people that God put into my life to ensure that I ended up in Ethiopia three years ago in 2007.  Once again I found myself in Lyston’s office where he encouraged me to consider moving to Ethiopia for two years and 7 months later I was on a plane with my life packed in 4 suitcases, destined for Addis Ababa, Ethiopia once more.  I didn’t really know all that my time here would hold, I just knew that I felt like I was being faithful to a call that God has placed deeply on my heart and that I had to respond by saying yes to Him.

When I tucked into bed my first night back at the Cherokee House this past July, I looked to the side of my bed and there was a simple colored paper illustration of a sunrise coming over the mountains with the verse written, “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage” Psalm 84:5. As strange as this sounds, right above the drawing as an “r” that had been carved into the shelf where the drawing was hanging.  Something told me that God was saying, “Rachael, this is my verse for you, cling to this.” I’m not sure who the artist of this little picture was, probably one of the dozens of Cherokee volunteers that come through the house each year.  Even on that first night, I felt the significance of that little drawing, and five months later, the meaning of it has just increased.

This verse was so striking to me because I felt like I just started out on a pretty significant journey moving to Ethiopia, one that was definitely not comfortable and on my first night at the house, it really hit that this was going to be the reality of my life for the next two years, at least according to my plan.  I started reflecting more on this verse my first morning that I woke up in the house and wrote in my journal, “My strength can’t be in myself—I do not have enough of it by far.  But O God may my hope and strength be in you—help me to set my heart on the pilgrimage that lays ahead.” –July 15^th, 2010. I thought about the fact the verse promises that we will be blessed if we don’t rely on our own strength but rather on the Lord’s.  Also, I considered the image of a pilgrimage-a journey usually to something sacred and holy to pay reverence.  It dawned on me that God was asking me to commit to the upcoming journey, the pilgrimage, towards what I did not know but definitely towards knowing Him more deeply and fully.  The journey and the twists and turns of starting life in Ethiopia definitely seemed unclear and unknown and yet there was something about knowing I was in the middle of God’s will that comforted me that the I was on the road, which was exactly where I was supposed to be.

As these last five months have unfolded, I have sensed an incredible feeling that I am being led on this road.  There have been some big ways that God has interjected that I have seen his hand strongly at work, and there have been other ways that have been more like quiet whispers that say, “this is the way, walk in it.”  A quote from Paul Tournier describes the season of my life much more eloquently than I could.  He writes, “He leads us step by step, from event to event.  Only afterwards, as we look back over the way we have come and reconsider certain important moments in our lives in the light of all that has followed them, or when we survey the whole progress of our lives, do we experience the feeling of having been led without knowing it, the feeling that God has mysteriously guided us.”

This morning, the other girls and I didn’t feel like we could muster up the strength to put on church clothes, get on public transportation and make our way to church.  Instead, we decided to stay home and listen to a sermon from Austin Stone Community Church.  The sermon was entitled “Sabbath: Learning To Trust.”  The main message was that God commanded us to rest on the Sabbath in order to train our hearts and remind us that all good things that happen in our lives are a result of our strivings and our own strength, but instead, that Sabbath teaches out hearts to remember that God is the one working and that it is his mighty outstretched hand that is in control of our lives.  Sabbath shakes us from the illusion that if we accomplish our checklists and errands, that the week ahead will be successful.    After the sermon, we all started talking about how it is so clear that God has brought the eight of us together on this wonderful journey.  We are from California, Texas, Montana, North Carolina, and Indiana.  We are all very different and yet we are living life together in Ethiopia, striving towards Christ-like community with one another and serving others.  We realized that we are all in a place of waiting-some waiting to hear about what college to attend, some waiting to hear about what jobs they will find when they get home, but all of us waiting.

Enjoying the sunset in Awassa, Ethiopia

In these times of waiting on the next step in the journey, it is comforting to know that we are on the pilgrimage God has set out for us, and that is a place that is better to be than anywhere else in the world.  I would not trade this rainy morning in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia for any other place in the world today.  The journey over the past 5 months has not always been easy–there have been times of frustration, of pain, and sorrow.  There have been times where we have felt the incredible brokenness of the effects of poverty, of orphans not having anyone in the world to show them love, a child on the verge of death because there is no doctor to perform a surgery that is routine in the US, sadness from being away from family, missing comforts of the States.  Yet all of the hard times have been equally weighed with times of incredible joy and the most overwhelming feeling that I am exactly where I am meant to be..when we are hugging the same children, sitting around the table at night and hearing incredible stories about each others’ days, eating lunch in an Ethiopia’s one room house and feeling the best sense of hospitality you have experienced in years…the list goes on.  The highs and lows are all apart of this journey.  I am resolved that I never want to end this pilgrimage.   I never want to go on my own way, try to manipulate circumstances to bring my own plans to fruition because this way is such much sweeter, so much more fulfilling, so much more rich—like this is what life is meant to be like.

in Dahley, Ethiopia. (photo credit: Geoff Duncan)

I am thankful beyond words to the unknown artist who left behind the sweet reminder for me that “blessed are those who strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.”

 

Good News.

Something that I have seen time and time again during my three trips to this beautiful country is the fact that on a daily basis I feel like I see the words of the gospels of Jesus’ life lived out in front of me.  In the United States, I can often feel the distance between the life of Jesus and the life of Rachael on a daily basis.  Talk of blind men on the street, demon possessed people, shepherds and orphans and widows feels a far cry from my typical day filled with shopping trips to Target, lattes from Starbucks and whatever other seemingly important tasks my day may hold.

Just for a quick example, shepherds from the countryside abound here in the city.  They all are dressed in the exact same short shorts and plaid blankets draped around their shoulders.  You can pick them out in any crowd.  They are some of the poorest of the poor who have immigrated into the city to try their hand at making a living in Addis.  When the Bible talks about the angel appearing the lowly shepherds and telling them of Jesus’ impending birth—it actually resonates much more clearly the significance of this gesture.  Jesus from the beginning of his life wasn’t focused on attaining the attention of kings but of the least of things.

I have recently been reminded again of this fact living in Addis—that I feel so much more in tune with the gospels than I do in my daily life in the states.  Last weekend I had the opportunity to visit a small street kids ministry started by a young Ethiopian woman named Enu.  She hasn’t created any impressive programs but instead is investing in the lives of a few boys who for whatever reason, spend the majority of their days on the streets trying to sell small items like tissues, gum and cigarettes to earn a living.  There are so many young children selling things on the streets rather than being in school that it is easy to start seeing them as a whole category of people rather than individuals.  That was all shattered as we stood with Enu and her friend Ruth talking with a few boys on the side of the street.  Their names were Nazretu, Biniam, Henok, and Tola.  They became real children, with real stories, and real dreams.  We heard about how one of the boys left his family when he was 6 years old—he snuck onto a truck headed to Addis and hasn’t left since.  Henok told us that he dreams to be an engineer and that he is going to school at nights so that he can still sell things on the streets during the day to make money.  We had the opportunity to pray with them on the side of a busy street.  I think the thing that impacted me most was that if we all invested in a few people’s lives deeply, we could make an incredible difference. I think often we are overwhelmed by the many places we could give our money and time that we throw our hands up in the air and feel like we could make no difference at all.  I was so encouraged by these two sweet young women and their hearts for these street boys.  As we walked to a coffee shop to spend more time together I made the comment, “I think if I spend more time with the two of you I just might see Jesus on a regular basis.”

We were headed to a favorite coffee spot called Yeshi Buna thinking that we had done our good deed for the day spending time with the street boys and feeling like it was now the time to grab some coffee and relax.  All the sudden we saw a man approaching us who looked like he was either drunk or high so we quickly side stepped to the right hoping we could avoid any kind of unpleasant interaction.  It is hard to explain but something felt different about this guy, he genuinely had a pretty evil threatening look in his eyes.  He had lots of coverings around his head and body and his presence was startling.  Somehow despite all of this we found our group of 4, (me, Geoff, Ruth & Enu) stopped and listening to an exchange between the man and Enu in Amharic that Geoff and I couldn’t really make out.  Enu took out some money to hand him which we hoped would allow us to pass on to our destination and in a matter of a few minutes, he was down on his knees and Enu was praying over him.

Even though Geoff and I weren’t exactly sure what the prayer was for, we put our hands on him and prayed along with Enu.  After continuing like this, the man fell to the ground and started convulsing with his hands lifting to the sky but we just kept our hands on him praying.  After Enu finished her prayer, the man sat up and started unwrapping his head from the many layers he had around his face.  In all of my life I have never so clearly seen a man’s face change from darkness to light.  There was an incredible softness about him that was such a stark contrast from before that all of us were sure that we just saw an evil spirit leave the man.  A crowd was gathering around us so we helped him up and went to a nearby restaurant to by him some food and water.  As he sat and ate, we got to hear his story.  We found out that his name is Fisume and that recently both of his parents died in a car accident and that he dropped out of business college and became addicted to drugs & alcohol.  He told us that even though he lived in a large gutter in the city, that he had a bible there and Ruth asked him to read through John and that she would follow-up with him.  He showed us pictures of his family and Fisume and Ruth continued to talk more about how he wanted to change his life and start following Jesus.  This wasn’t your typical mountain top church retreat experience—we literally watched a man come to new life and watched him change.

We all walked away pretty speechless.  As we finally made it to our coffee shop destination, we sat without many words in awe of what we had just seen.  As I sat and reflected, I couldn’t shake the question of why things like this do not happen in the United States.  Why do the gospels seem like some far off story rather than a daily experience?  Are our lives too loud and distracting?  Do we not have the need for such an incredible dependence on God as the people do here?  I don’t really have any answers.  I know that life lived here feels like I can relate to the Jesus of the Bible in such an intimate way and that after tasting the richness of life here that I am not sure I can go back to the ordinary.  Target trips & lattes just won’t cut it after you spend the day with children living on the street and praying over a man to truly receive new life.  The gospel really is good news.

A beautiful day.

Sometimes a day spent here in Ethiopia can feel so full that there is no need to try to extract any powerful words or meaning from it, it just speaks for itself.  Tuesday was one of those days.  Alex, Caroline, and I just started out for the day with no real agenda just trying to fill the morning since the city is kind of in holiday mode due to the approaching New Year (more to come on that in the next post).

We started out by going to visit Mother Teresa’s home for the Dying and Destitute where I worked during my first summer in Ethiopia in 2007.  I cannot clearly express the affect that this place has had on my life.  I came to Ethiopia in 2007 searching.  Searching for a better me, my place in the world, an experience.  Without knowing what to expect in that first experience, I met some of the most beautiful boys of my life.  For those of you that haven’t heard me talk about my initial experience, it was life altering.  The boys at Mother Teresa’s are a group of boys who have been labeled as society’s destitute due to their various types of special needs.  Most of them have cerebral palsy but there are those with other special needs as well.  I came to Ethiopia as a pretty self-centered person and then I encountered these sweet boys who rattled all of that.  They rely on people for their every need—to be fed by spoons, to have their diapers and bedpans changed for them, to move them from their beds to wheelchairs.  Their complete dependency and reliance on others taught me something beautiful; maybe we don’t always have to walk through life trying to be so tough and independent.  Their joy in the midst of what seemed like a hopeless situation was inspiring.  The way that they loved me despite my selfishness changed my heart.  It is hard to explain the way that they loved me; the words that we exchanged were few.  Often time was just spent together, sometimes coloring, sometimes reading through a children’s bible, but always they were smiling.  I have now had the opportunity to know these sweet children for 3 years.  On both of my return trips to Ethiopia, including this one, I have been greeted warmly as they remember my name and exclaim it with joy as I walk into the room.  Though I don’t know how much they understand about my comings and goings from Ethiopia, these children and I share a deep love.  I hope that beyond the language and cultural barriers that they understand the powerful role they have had and continue to have in my life

Abush from Mother Teresa's

While I don’t make it as often as I would like to see them, Tuesday morning I took Alex & Caroline to meet them.  We had a sweet morning together throwing a ball around, laughing with them and just being together.  I also got to see a friend from 3 years ago, Hailu, who is the social worker at Mother Teresa’s but who I didn’t get to see this past summer when I was here.

Yared from MT's

After we left Mother Teresa’s I had the idea that we should go and stop by a small orphanage that is literally next door to Mother Teresa’s called Moses.  I spent some time at this orphanage as a tutor my first summer in Ethiopia and wanted to go and see the children since I had not seen them since my return this time.  This stop wasn’t on our original agenda for the day but something told me to stop by.  When I walked into their compound, I immediately felt a coldness about it.  Typically the 17 children that live there are all playing outside but instead the place looked deserted.  We ventured inside and found some of the boys all huddled in their room around an old computer watching a movie from India.  Like usual, as many Ethiopians are, the boys were reserved in their expressions but as I hugged each one of them they wouldn’t let go.  I pulled Teklemariam, the oldest boy who is 18, aside to tell me about how things were going.  He quickly told us that Moses had lost it’s director and thus, lost most of its funding.  His words were that the place had become hopeless and I could see that hopelessness in the faces of all of the children.  As we talked more about his upcoming departure from Moses to attend his first year of college, he talked about his view that children should get to grow up in society instead of within the walls of an orphanage compound.  He is wise beyond his years and could make a very compelling argument about the negative effects of institutions.  Tek (for short) explained that when he compared himself and the other children from Moses to children that live in families, that they lacked confidence.  At this point he had to leave the room for something and I sat a minute with the weight of all he had told me.  Tears filled my eyes as I felt the heaviness of it all—children should not have to live like this.  Children should know that someone besides their bunkmates in their orphanage care about them and think they are special.

Me, Caroline & the boys from Moses

We left our visit at Moses burdened.  We wanted to try to go find a 10 year old boy named Abraham that lived in the area because the father of a family that visited Ethiopia a few weeks ago through Cherokee had bonded with this little boy from meeting him on the street and had sent a package for us to deliver to him. Tek and one of the other boys walked with us to make sure we did not get lost and along the way the young boy from Moses exclaimed, “You didn’t forget us.  Other volunteers come and they go but you always come back.”  I couldn’t really respond in words but his words were moving beyond measure.  When we were approaching the area where I remember meeting Abraham the first time we started asking around to try to find him.  We actually ended up finding his brother, through the translation help of Tek.  His brother led us to his family’s home, which was right around the corner where we discovered that Abraham had gone to visit his relatives but instead we were invited into his home by his mother, father, two brothers, and sisters.  They asked us to sit down in a tiny one-room house with light except from the open door and asked if we would stay for coffee.  This invitation could not have been more timely as I reflected on my previous blog post.  We were being invited into a complete strangers home—3 foreigners and 2 orphans for coffee.  While we were sitting there and having a conversation through translation, Tek turned to me and explained, “See, this is what I mean.  This is amazing to be in a home in a family.  This is what I want my life to look like in society.”  I just felt my heart breaking.  We shared the package of clothing with Abraham’s mother and inside were also pictures with the dad who sent the package of him with Abraham that he had taken on his trip.  When the mother opened the pictures, with a joyful smile she kissed each one of them before proudly passing them around the room for us all to see.  After coffee, we gratefully left the family’s home after them making us promise that we would return the next week to see Abraham in person.  Another fun part about that experience is that one of the Cherokee volunteers, Alex, who is 30, has managed to never even try coffee in her life.  She had her very first taste and actually whole cup of coffee made in a traditional coffee pot over a fire in a one-room house with an Ethiopian family—I can’t think of anything more special.

As we said our goodbyes to the family and the boys from Moses and boarded a minibus to head back to our house, the three of all talked about this incredible sense of heaviness yet a feeling of being so blessed from our day.  On this beautiful day we truly encountered Ethiopia in all of its beauty—the beauty which are the people that remind us of our shared humanity with people who were once strangers that lived half way around the world, and are now dear friends.

The Culture of Coffee (Buna)

Many times people ask what Ethiopian culture is like and I often have found that I cannot simply put it into words.  The culture here is so unique that it is better to be experienced rather than explained.  However, in hopes of being able to share my love for this country with people that are not able to be here with me right now, I will attempt to share a small glimpse into the beauty of this place and its people.  I have come to personally believe that nothing better symbolizes Ethiopian culture than the coffee ceremony.

Most people, even those from the US, have heard about Ethiopia’s reputation for good coffee but few know the full extent it’s importance.  Ethiopians claim that coffee, or in Amharic buna, was first discovered in Ethiopia by a goatherd named Kaldi in the province of Kafa in southwest Ethiopia-this region of Kafa is where the Western name “coffee” comes from.

As you visit Ethiopia as a foreigner or guest you quickly realize the importance of buna.  It is shared with friends, after meals, and always with guests.  While the local coffee shop’s macchiatos are some of my favorite, nothing replaces being invited to an Ethiopian’s home for the full coffee ceremony.  The whole process can take hours and it is something to be slowly enjoyed.  It is a far beat away from our American idea of coffee, which involves driving through the closest Starbucks drive-through and having your grande soy hazelnut latte (my drink of choice) ready in minutes.  The coffee ceremony begins with the raw coffee beans that are green to start with.  The beans are roasted on an open fire in the home, giving off a wonderful smell.

After the beans are finished and roasted, they are ground my hand in a mortar and then scooped carefully into the traditional clay coffee pot called a jebena.  The coffee is mixed with water and cooks in the jebena over the fire until it starts to steam signaling that it is ready for drinking.  It is then poured into 12 small cups, representing the 12 apostles.  While for most Americans one cup of this unfiltered coffee is enough, guests must receive three rounds of the coffee as each round has its own significance.  The third and final cup of coffee is the one that symbolizes blessing and is know as bereka.

As a guest when you visit people’s houses, it is amazing how little they might have and yet they will still have all the necessary supplies to put on an impromptu coffee ceremony at a moment’s notice.  I have had people who are living in extreme poverty send their kids out to buy sugar, a delicacy here, so that we maybe be able to enjoy it with out coffee at their home.  The process is slow and unhurried.  I think that at it’s core it represents the hospitality of Ethiopian culture as well as the heightened importance of relationships as compared to the importance of time.

Over the process of the coffee ceremony, time is spent together just enjoying each other’s company and presence.  The first time that I ever went to one of these during my first trip to Ethiopia, I have to admit that it felt a little uncomfortable as the hours passed by.  It is sadly no longer in our DNA as Americans to be able to just simply enjoy time spent together without any purpose other than building community and relationships.  We are so task driven that the slowing down and enjoying the moment is not always comfortable.  I think it is easy to walk away from an afternoon at someone’s house here and feel like you have accomplished absolutely nothing—and that is the beautiful part-nothing needed to be accomplished in the first place.

I had to get up early four mornings in a row a few weeks ago to attend a conference on Foster Care here in Addis.  Due to the need to wake up so early, I didn’t have the normal time for my two cups of coffee from my French press.  One morning, I decided to take my coffee with me in a travel mug and as I walked through the streets to the taxis holding my mug it dawned on me—the cultural differences and implications of coffee was clear.  In the US coffee is something that we use merely as a way to help us get through the day—though sometimes, it is rarely a sign of community.  While the unhurried nature of the Ethiopian coffee ceremony can be uncomfortable at first, it is something that I hope to gain a stronger appreciation for.  I think we all can benefit from learning the lesson that we do not always need to produce or accomplish a task—sometimes the best way we can spend our time is to enjoy one another in sweet relationships. So slow down today with me and take the time to sip your coffee slowly with friends and family and enjoy.

Firengi.

Firengi! Firengi!  I probably hear this word dozens of times as I walk around Addis each day.  While I am still new at trying to pick up Amharic, the main language spoken in Addis, this word is one that I am so familiar with as it is whispered and shouted all around me.  In the U.S. it might be seen as rude to point out the blatant fact that someone is a foreigner and doesn’t quite belong.  Here it seems to almost be encouraged as mothers will point to me and exclaim to their young children, “Firengi.”  It is easy to quickly become annoyed at the constant pointing, snickering, and labeling as a foreigner in this country but I am starting to realize that this label is a good reminder to me that I am guest of this beautiful country of Ethiopia.  I am a learner of this country, I am not a local.  I am a foreigner to their food, language, customs, greetings, and mannerisms.  I have to check myself when I start feeling a little prideful that I have learned a few Amharic words, I can navigate public transportation, or that I have favorite coffee shops in the city.  I find myself wanting to differentiate my experience of living in Addis and justify it as different from those who are just visitors.  Then I remember and am humbled by the fact that a few months spent here does not change the fact that I am a full-blood American, not from this place, truly a foreigner.  Although my hope is that I would lose a little bit of my American identity and gain a little Ethiopian identity, the truth will always be that I am a foreigner.  After a few months of living life here, or even a few years, the label will still apply, at least based on my exterior.

The author of a book called Ministering Cross-Culturally discusses a concept of becoming a 150 percent person.  He explains that we all start out being 100% of our home culture and that although it is impossible for us to become 100% incarnate of another culture in which we are a foreigner, through the process of learning and living as a foreigner, we lose little pieces of our American identity and in the process gain pieces of the second culture.  He explains that this process ultimately makes us more human than when we started but that we can only do they by  “[accepting] the value priorities of others.  We must learn the definitions and rules of the context in which they live.  We must adopt their patterns and procedures for working, playing, and worshipping.  We must become incarnate in their culture and make them our family and friends” (Ministering Cross-Culturally, p. 122).

In the book of Hebrews when talking about great people of faith, the author writes that these men of faith “admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth.  People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own.  If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return.  Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one” (Hebrews 11: 13-16).

These men really understood what it meant to be a foreigner in this life.  While being a Firengi and being labeled as such is often times uncomfortable, it is a constant reminder that I do not belong to this world. I think often in the United States we have so many material comforts and distractions that it is easy to forget that we were made for much more than this broken world.  We stop living in light of the hope that is promised to us in the future that awaits us in heaven. I hope that I do not start to despise or resent the reminder, but take it instead as a gift, a gift that reminds me to not be comfortable.  As I am on the journey of becoming more human in Ethiopia, I hope that I am a learner of the people here, the culture here, just life in general here.   So today I am thankful for the label.  I am thankful for the reminder that I am a stranger in this land, both Ethiopia and this earth.

“If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy, I can only conclude that I was not made for here….” Brooke Fraser C.S. Lewis Song

From Austin, Texas to Zeway, Ethiopia. 8000 miles.

As I sit down to begin trying to write an update about my first days in Ethiopia, I am overwhelmed at the immensity of all that has happened in such a short time. The word that keeps coming to mind to describe it all is full. Full of pain, Full of tears, Full of joy, Full of questions, Full of peace, and full of HOPE. The week started off with a hectic morning of post-wedding busyness, trying to pack all of my last minute things into four suitcases and meet the team at the Austin airport for our 11: 15 departure. I knew it would be hard but hugging my mom and sister Kaitlyn for the last time until Christmas was painstakingly difficult with the only short-term comfort being that I had an amazing team surrounding me that quickly took me under the wings and into their hearts.

Just as we were boarding the plane in Austin to DC, as I had finally got my emotions under control, I turn around to find my dad standing at my gate with open arms to give me a hug. He had flown from Houston to Austin that morning just to give me one last hug and one of the most special notes anyone has ever written me. What a blessing it was to stand with my father in the airport as he told me through teary eyes that he was proud of me. I think that this scene depicts every girl’s dream of their father’s love.

With a last big hug from my dad, we were off, bound for Zeway, Ethiopia, around 8000 miles from Austin, TX as the crow flies. After stops in DC & Frankfurt, we eventually arrived in Addis many hours later with eager anticipation of our upcoming adventure. After being met by our soon to be dear friend, Markos, who works for Food for the Hungry, we headed to our hotel for a night of rest before departing the next morning for Zeway. As I layed in my bed that night, I could barely believe that I was back in Ethiopia. For the third time I was in the country that I love so much but this time, not for a few weeks, but for two years.

The next morning we were off to an early start as we drove through the Ethiopian countryside on a 2 and a half hour journey to the quaint town of Zeway. To me this small town arranged around one main road with everything within walking distance feels so small in comparison to the bustling city of Addis, but in Ethiopia it is said to be urban as compared to the majority of Ethiopia’s rural landscape. Now is where the writing gets hard—it is hard for me to even try to think of how to begin to describe the next 6 days. Before even trying, I will explain a little bit about the purpose of our trip. Our main goal was to continue to strengthen the partnership that Grace Covenant had entered into almost 1 year ago. The community-to-community partnership consists of a three way collaboration between Grace Covenant Church, Food for the Hungry in Zeway, and the Fellowship of Evangelical churches in Zeway. In particular, the partnership is focused on holistically addressing the needs of child-headed double orphan households in Zeway. The two primary goals of the partnership are for the members of Bridges of Grace in Austin to serve as the virtual foster parents for these children through material and emotional support, as well as working with FH and the churches in Zeway to create a culture of adoption so that these children can eventually be grafted into permanent loving families rather than having to face the world alone.
Rather than trying to describe our 6 days in Zeway in full detail, I am going to try to share one of the children’s stories because their stories are so much more telling than anything I could write.

Eden is a 14 year old girl who is living with HIV. We got the chance to visit Eden at her home as our first home visit in Zeway. Though she was slow to warm up to 8 of us piling into her one room home, the more time we spent with her, the more her story unfolded. Her mother died when she was three years old and she was raised by her father and stepmother along with two step-siblings. While Eden’s father was wealthy, he spent all of his money on alcohol and medical bills to cover his expenses related to AIDS. After the eventual death of her father, Eden’s stepmother blamed her for his death, a wait which she would continue to bear for years. In the following years, Eden spiraled into a time of complete hopelessness—she drank rat poisoning as an attempt to kill herself an on another occasion, pretended to be her friend and called her step-mother to tell her that Eden had died. When the step-mother learned of this, they came to Addis to collect Eden’s possessions and were angered to find out that she had faked the situation and even made Eden pay their transportation fare back. Since entering into the Food for the Hungry program, Eden speaks of a much different perspective on life. She explained that for her “there is no one else to care for me and my health. I have no family. FH is like my father and mother.” One of the most remarkable moments of the trip occurred when one of our teammates, Dawn, near the end of our visit reached out to give Eden a hug. It is hard to explain the significance of this sweet moment but as Dawn tried to pull away multiple times, Eden would not let go. We were all crying as we watched this beautiful moment of redemption, as Eden received a hug of unconditional love from a mother, and I truly believe that while this hug might have only lasted for minutes, that it truly healed a place in the depths of Eden’s heart that she has buried to survive all of the hurt and pain she has suffered.

While this is just one of the many stories we encountered during our time in Zeway, I think it is one that captures the very purpose of the Child-Headed Household partnership. FH entered Eden’s life at a time of utter hopelessness, and now, she is under the care of social workers who are attempting to care for spiritual, social, emotional and physical needs. We all walked away from this visit with a real heaviness and yet a glimmer of hope of the redeeming work of bringing hope the most hopeless of situations.

We met a 10 year old boy, Dawit, who is the head of his household, working daily instead of going to school to support his sister and mother, who will probably die soon of AIDS. We met a little girl named Lydia, who with her two siblings is so shunned by their community due to HIV/AIDS that they will not let the children use the community latrine. We met a set of siblings whose mother hung herself in the very home they still live in.

And yet…all hope is not lost because I believe our God is a good and gracious God who is close to the broken hearted. We met a mother, who despite having AIDS and three young sons, claims that she would rather have Jesus than food. We met two little girls, who are about to have a brand new house built for them to live in. I got the chance to participate in one of our team member’s jewelry training where the girls go to create jewelry and express themselves through creation. And as Dawit, the FH Director of Zeway says: “Beads are hope.”

The intermingling of pain and hope, brokenness and joy, tears and laughter doesn’t make much sense to me most days but I know that both are very real as I have seen in the lives of the orphaned children of Zeway.

Much more to come as I continue to process and work through all I have seen. I am at the Cherokee House now trying to settle into the beginning of the next two years of living in Addis Ababa. I cant wait to share more stories and thoughts with all of you as the journey continues to unfold. This is just the beginning.

Small Reminders

I cant believe all that has happened since my last post almost 6 weeks ago!  The list of to do’s is dwindling down: car sold and delivered in NC, visa in my passport, luggage packed, apartment empty, passed my SW licensing exam, health insurance and shots complete, orientation in Raleigh, and an amazing trip and time with sweet friends in North Carolina and celebrating Tyler & Meghan’s wedding. 

While the list is getting short, the distance left to travel between now and Monday feels huge.  I am in Austin about to get to celebrate my good friend Carly’s wedding to the love of her life, Chad, with a weekend full of wedding activities and a 4th of July wedding Sunday night as the finale.

People keep asking, “How do you feel?” “Are you excited/nervous/scared?”  My response lately has been-I’m just ready. I’m not sure there is any more emotional or mental preparation that I can do-how can you fully prepare to say goodbye to your good friends and family and move across the ocean to a life of unknown?  While I can do all that I can to make sure I have all the right things packed, and all of my to-do list items crossed off, I’m not sure “preparing to move to Ethiopia” is something that can be easily crossed off a list.

I read this quote the other day in Francis Chan’s Crazy Love and it was such a comfort:

“But God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn’t come through” -Francis Chan

So I am moving forward in trust and faith knowing that I am in the middle of God’s plan for my life and there is no better place to be although it doesn’t mean all of the questions are answered.

Last night I went out to dinner with my team for my upcoming trip to Zeway, Ethiopia. While many of you know, others don’t that I will actually be spending my first 10 days of my time in Ethiopia with a group from Grace Covenant Church in Austin on a Food for the Hungry trip to get to see a partnership going on working with Child-Headed Households.  For more information about this partnership, visit the Partnerships blog at:

http://zewayupdate.blogspot.com/2010/05/caring-for-widow-and-orphan.html

For more information about our actual trip click here: http://www.grace360.org/zeway.php

But back to dinner….we all met up for our last team meeting before we set off on Monday at a little Ethiopian restaurant just north of Austin called Taste of Ethiopia.  The Ethiopian owners, Wionne and her husband Solomon, know some of our group members well but it was my first time meeting them.  When Wionne found out that I was moving to Addis, she immediately went and wrote down her best friend and cousin’s contact information in Addis and told me that I have to contact them when I get there and that they will treat me like family and watch out for me and help me with whatever I might need while I’m there.  There is something about Ethiopian culture that I’m not sure you can describe, it is best left experienced firsthand.  When do you experience it, it touches you so deeply that I’m not sure you can ever be the same. After finishing up our macchiatos and our 3 hour dinner, it was time to say goodbye to Wionne and her family and as I walked out into the Austin night, I felt like I had received a sweet reminder and answer to the question, “Why Ethiopia?”

The countdown begins….

As my internship and classes start to wind down (I finish May 7th!) I have been starting to think about all of the things that need to happen before I leave on July 5th.

As of today, the countdown to when I leave is 75 days! Here are the things that still need to happen between now and then:

-Finish raising support (almost there–thank you to all who have been a part of this!)

-Apply for my Ethiopian Visa

-International Health Insurance & Travel Clinic for shots etc.

-Figure out how to pack my life in 4 suitcases?

-Sell my car

-Move out of my apartment and distribute all my furniture to friends & family

-Graduate from grad school–May 22

-Take my SW Licensing exam

-Trip to North Carolina to visit friends & for Meghan & Tyler’s wedding

-Carly’s Wedding (and all wedding activites)–July 4th!

Those are the big things!  I am so excited to spend the next 75 days preparing my heart, mind, and spirit for this upcoming adventure–thank you for your prayer and support along the way!

Support Letter–Returning to Ethiopia :)

So it is official—I have a return flight to Ethiopia on July 5, 2010 for my third trip—and this time it is not for 8 or 10 weeks but for 2 years….More to come as I start to prepare to leave and get ready for this upcoming journey but for now below is the support letter that I sent out to friends & family members with a few more details 🙂

Hi dear friends,

I hope this letter finds you well! I am about to graduate in May with my Masters in Social Work and I am amazed at how quickly the last two years have flown by.  As I look forward to May, I have some exciting news to share about my post-graduation plans.  Many of you have walked with me as I have developed my love for the country of Ethiopia, falling in love with it on my first trip during the summer of 2007, and then confirming my love on my second trip this past summer.  I was reflecting on my love for this place as I re-read one of the update emails I sent during my time there in 2007:

“I am still in love with the country and with the people here.  Many days I am overwhelmed by the poverty and large amount of need. On my travel to work everyday I pass dozens of beggars, starving children, elderly, and people without proper wheelchairs who are walking on their hands and feet through the street.  Many times if my guard is down I can easily get overwhelmed and feel defeated and helpless surrounded by such need. I find comfort in the truth that during his time on earth Jesus did not heal every single person he saw or came in contact with but instead he knew that his mission on the earth was to ultimately die on the cross for the salvation of all.  Here in Ethiopia, I know that it is not my mission to eradicate world poverty or suffering but to show compassion to one person at a time.” Update Email from July 8, 2007.

As graduation nears and I look forward to what God’s next step is for my life, I am excited to share with you that I have been offered a position to return to Ethiopia for two years to work with the same organization I have gone through both summers, Cherokee Gives Back.  I will be serving as the Cherokee Gives Back program manager including hosting volunteers, typically college students and young adults, as they come from the U.S, as well as working with Cherokee’s partner organizations in Ethiopia.  Since this is the very way that I was exposed to Ethiopia the first time, I am overjoyed with the opportunity to walk alongside volunteers as many of them have their first experience in a developing country and have their eyes opened to a different culture and a different way of life.  I also will have other opportunities during my time there to develop my skills and passions to work with the people of Ethiopia through various non-profit organizations.  Right now the plan is for me to leave for Ethiopia around mid-July.

I am incredibly humbled by this opportunity to get to spend the next two years of my life learning from the people and country of Ethiopia and growing into more of the person who God has created me to be.  While the thought of leaving all of my friends, family, and comforts of life in America for two years can easily bring me to tears, I am confident that I am being called to say yes to this opportunity.  Throughout the past few years, I have come to realize that I need Ethiopia more than Ethiopia needs me.  I have nothing but my willing hands and it is completely a gift that God has given me this opportunity.

I have come to learn through my spring break trips in Costa Rica and trips to Ethiopia that one of the many beautiful parts of overseas trips is the opportunity to involve many members of the body of Christ in the journey rather than just the one person who is going.  Trips like this are not meant to just involve one person, but rather, through depending on people through financial support, many more people are intimately involved with the work being done overseas.  I am so incredibly thankful for those of you that have financially and prayerfully supported my past trips. I now ask if you would consider doing this same for my upcoming journey.

While Cherokee will be covering many of my expenses, such as my flights and food and housing, I am needing to raise $12,000 to cover my salary and other expenses for the next two years.  I ask that you prayerfully consider what portion of this amount you and your family are called to be a part of.  Just to give you an idea of what it will take for me to raise this money, if each of you commit to $5.00 a month ($60 annually or $120 total) , my salary will be completely funded.  Another option is to decide to give a one time donation that would cover a month of my time there which is $500.  While I know that this is not possible for many of you, I ask what you personally are able to give.  All of the money I raise will go through Cherokee Gives Back and be tax-deductible.  They will wire me money each month and 100% of the money you give will go directly to me.  There are a number of ways to donate.  You can either give a one-time donation, or you can support me monthly.  Included with this letter is a commitment form where you can fill out this information and each month that you send money to Cherokee Gives Back they will mail you a tax receipt and a form to fill out for your next month’s contribution.  There is also an area on the commitment form to indicate if you want to intentionally support me through prayer during my time there.

If you will return the commitment form in the stamped envelope by May 1, 2010.

I am so grateful for each of you and your willingness to walk through this journey with me.  I have been humbled by the experience already and I am sure the next two years will be more amazing than I can even imagine.  Please don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions and I will be in conversation with all of you over the next few months!

Gratefully,

Rachael Moise

Rachael.moise@gmail.com

713.501.4176

Last two weeks in Ethiopia

Sorry it has taken me so long to get to this last post, I am writing it from my home in Houston being back in the United States for a couple of days now.  My last two weeks in Ethiopia were spent tying up all the loose ends that I had created during the previous 8 weeks of my time there.  After returning from our backpacking trip we were all exhausted for a couple of days from our travels so getting up in the morning was a little bit harder than usual but we were glad to be home and back into city life in Addis. The week after returning I spent some time out in Ayat with the kids at foster care.  I did a craft with them on Tuesday decorating canvas bags which was very messy but so much fun to see their creativity come out!  Ethiopian culture isnt one that necessarily encouraged critical thinking and creativity so its also fun to push the boundaries and let the kids try something new (although the caregivers never seem too happy when the children end up covered in paint!).  I also spent time with the infants finishing up footprinting all of the youngest children for their soon to be new families.  It amazed me how much some of the kids that I met when I first started working at Gladney had grown in the short 2 months that I had been there!  Our house had always been trying to go to a Jazz club on a Thursday night but since the music didnt start until 10:30 (way past our 9:00 bedtime!) we hadn’t made it yet.  Thursday night we were determined since a lot of us were leaving that week so we went out to a late dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, Makush, and then headed to the Jazz club.  People say that Addis is like the NYC of Ethiopia and

Photo 1: Out to lunch at Castelli’s with the Baers (Me, Emily, Tom)

Photo 2: Out at the jazz club with the roommates!

that night I felt like that was the absolute truth.  The crowd drawn by the jazz club was very different than the crowds you see day in and day out in the city. We enjoyed the time together with our roommates and the good music and it was fun to get out and do something different during the week.  Saturday I had the opportunity to go out to lunch with the Baer Family, long-term volunteers with Gladney, who I had been working with throughout the summer as a farewell.  We went to an Italian restaurant called Castelli’s and had by far the best meal that I had the whole summer together.  Their family was such an incredible blessing to me this summer so lunch was bittersweet as we had time to celebrate our friendship and yet after out yummy desserts and coffee had to say our farewells. Sunday we went to IEC church for the last time which ended in teary prayers at the end of the service as we prayed around one of our roommates that was leaving that evening.  I think it really hit all of us that the summer was coming to an end and I dont think any of us could truly believe it.  We went out to a yummy lunch after church and did some shopping which consisted of walking for about 4 hours through the pouring rain and laughing the entire way.  It was truly a day of sweet fellowship with each other that we all drew in life deeply and enjoyed each other’s company.  

Monday I did my last day of placements with Travis.  It was a day full of joy once again as families got the chance to meet their new children.  One family asked if I was Rachael and said that I had written an update on their son and in it I had said he was like a little engineer–the family told me that it was so fitting since the child’s new father is actually an engineer himself!  It was a sweet reminder that the updates and photos that I worked on this summer were a blessing to the families.  Tuesday I went back to Mother Teresa’s and Moses and spent time with the children there and said my goodbyes.  Time at Mother Teresa’s with the kids I worked with two years ago is also so sweet. Their beautiful faces shine unconditional love and acceptance even if they have very limited words that they can communicate. On my last day in Addis, I helped with a training for the caregivers who take care of the children at Gladney.  We talked a little bit about attachment and their role in the child’s transition from their care to the care of the adoptive family.  It was a nice way to feel like I had some closure and to say goodbye to all of the caregivers at once and thank them for all of their help throughout the summer.  Thursday afternoon I spent time with Elisa at the house as we packed up the rest of our things.  Elisa wasnt scheduled to leave until the following night but even though the flight was overbooked she decided to try to come to the airport and fly standby.  The night was full of emotion as I said goodbye to my roommates through tears, knowing that our little ideal community in Ethiopia couldnt last forever.  I saw God move at the airport as Elisa ended up being able to get on my flight because someone didnt show up for the flight so we both boarded the plane together 10 minutes before it was scheduled to take-off and were able to sit together for the flight.  It was such a blessing having her with me on the plane as we started to process and talk about our trip and the many things we had experienced throughout the summer.  I couldnt help but feel a sense of incredible loss as the plane’s wheels left the ground in Ethiopia.  The feeling of physically leaving Africa still makes my eyes well up with tears even as I write this now.  We landed in DC 17 hours later and had to say our goodbyes as we left for our separate connecting planes-me to Houston, her to Raleigh.  I had to take two more planes to get back into Houston so I was definitely sick of airplanes when I finally arrived safely in Houston.  

The culture shock stared in the airport as we checked our email with the incredibly fast internet, I was amazed as the crunchiness of an apple, the cleanliness of the airport bathrooms, and my eyes filled with tears at all of the vegetables that would most likely not make me sick that I could choose from at Subway.  The way that people at the US airports dont talk to one another and put in their headphones of their ipods, I realized that as Americans we are missing true deep connections with people that I experienced in Ethiopia on a daily basis.  In the world of Iphones, Ipods, Facebook, Twitter, DVR, lighting-fast internet, kindles, text messages, Red-box, and on and on it is easy to get wrapped up in our mindset that we should have everything available to us when we want it, how we want it, and as fast as possible.  I went to Starbucks one morning with my dad and was overwhelmed with the multitude of choices and the many ways I could customize my drink….all with coffee that they claim is from Africa but who really knows.  Now my aim is to not grow bitter here in the US, to not grow judgemental of the people who dont understand.  If you havent seen the things I have seen and dont know any better, how can I hold you responsible? But I have seen these things, and so I am responsible.  The lyrics of one of my favorite songs were never far from the mind on my trip back:

“now that I have seen, I am responsible
Faith without deeds is dead
now that I have held you in my own arms, I cannot let go till you are

I am on a plane across a distant sea
But I carry you in me
and the dust on, the dust on, the dust on my feet, Rwanda
I will tell the world, I will tell them where I’ve been
I will keep my word
I will tell them Albertine” (Albertine by Brooke Fraser)

That is my prayer and I hope that you will pray for me–that I would have the courage and boldness to change the things in my life that cant remain after an experience like that.  That I would not become idol but do something about the things that I have seen and be called to action in whatever way God calls me.  While being in Ethiopia had it’s difficult points, I think the hardest part is now, living in America.  How do I embrace living in America and yet not be swept back into old patterns and ways of life that are empty?  I’m not really sure what comes next–I know that tomorrow I return to Austin and on the 26th I start my second year of grad school for social work.  I dont know what I will be doing in a year, if it will be related to international adoptions, international work, or Ethiopia.  As Haptamu, our taxi driver who is more like a father, drove us to the airport he said, “You dont know what will happen in a year, only God knows, all you know is what you are doing today.”  I want to live embracing that truth and live it fully.  It ‘s a bold calling and I don’t know what it holds for me for the future but I know that life with Christ on this journey is better than anywhere else I could possibly be. 

The end. (really just the beginning)