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My rough night – Ethiopia Day 2

23 Feb

I knew something was terribly wrong when I was struggling to walk to the bathroom.  My stomach was crapping, my head spinning, and I was beginning to fever.  It was 11 pm, and I knew I was in for a long night.  Travel isn’t always glamorous.

I spent most of last night lying on the bathroom floor in my Ethiopian hotel so that I could be next to the toilet.  As you can imagine, my body was in revolt of something that had entered in.  Was it the food?  Who knows?    Everything I had eaten was cooked and delicious so there was no obvious cause.  If God were to come back for the rapture, I was in!

I crawled back to the bedroom to take some Cipro, because if there ever was a time I needed this antibiotic, it was now.  By the way, I never travel without it.  I then prayed that God would help me keep it down long enough to let it get into my system.  My prayer was answered  and it wasn’t until later that I had the joy of complete bodily chaos (no details necessary). I then spent the next 5 hours in a state of misery.  I just kept telling my self, “this soon shall pass, and I am loosing the five pounds in the process.” Self-talk is a good thing.

Finally, about 5 am, I was able to get in my bed as things to settle.  My alarm went off at 7 am and I knew that my body was not capable of moving out of the hotel room, so with great disappointment I had to stay behind today and not visit the Compassion children and go on the home visits.  I was sad to say the least.

It’s hard when plans change and things don’t go the way that you had hoped.  It’s hard when you have expectations, and those expectations aren’t meant.  I was so excited to visit the moms and babies at the Child Survival Program, but there was no way I could go.

Now, it’s about 2 pm, and I am feeling better…still a little weak, but better.  I am thankful for modern medicine.

On the bright side, my hotel room has a nice sliding door that goes out onto a beautiful deck, and I have been enjoying the nice breeze, the sunshine and the view of the lake below.

All around are beautiful birds and I have been an enjoying the sites and sounds of them. I finally got up and snapped a few shots.

 

If each day is to be a gift, then I need to see this day as a gift as well; the lake, the sun, the quiet and the birds.  Beautiful. I am noticing things I might not have noticed if I had gone out.   Still, I am sad I couldn’t see the sweet babies at the Child Survival Program, but God had this for me today, and I certainly have enjoyed His creation in a beautiful place.   It’s all good.

My own poverty – Day 1 Ethiopia

21 Feb

I made it safely to Addis Ababa.

It was good to see the sweet faces of our staff, and much to my surprise the beautiful woman at the hotel, Hannah, recognized me for before and greeted me with so much warmth.

“Welcome back,”  she said enthusiastically and her gracious smile made me feel a bit like I was home for some reason.

The dogs barking outside my window this morning woke me at 4 am.  Then the jet lag kept me awake.  It’s 5 am, and all I can think about it how good the coffee at breakfast will be.  Ethiopian’s say they invented coffee, and let me tell you my friends, it’s darn good!

I am feeling an overwhelming sense of thankfulness in this early early morning.  My bed was so comfy, the internet works, my luggage made it, I am with a wonderful group from Tri Lakes Chapel, but most of all, I feel God’s presence this morning.  I can’t wait to hear from Him this week and see what He has in store for me and this group.

When I left my house yesterday morning, I had a knot in my stomach and I was having a hard time letting go.  Yes, I alluded to this yesterday in my blog.  I left my babies in the wee hours of the morning and saying good bye to Stephen was sad.  My flight from Portland to Chicago was lonely, and I hung out in the Chicago airport by myself for another four hours.  Of course, once the group arrived, my extroverted self was happy to have new friends and company, but thoughts of home continued to fill my mind.  Why so hard this time?

I laid in bed last night and thought about it.  I have some things in my life I need to work on.  The details of life are becoming more important then the living.  I am not the wife I should be.  I am not the mother I should be.  I am not the child of God I should be.  I am not taking enough time to care for those things that fill my soul and matter most.  I am not exercising like I should.  I am not eating as I should.  The list could go on.

So then why travel?  Well…the timing is good.  Sometimes God has to pull me out of the daily grind, and refocus me.  Sometimes He has to get my attention by giving me moments of loneliness and experiences that show me what truly is important. So I am leaving the details for someone else for awhile,  so that I can soak in the presence of the HOLY and Living God in an amazing place like Ethiopia.

I really can’t think of a better place to be this week to hear from God.  The Ethiopian Christians are power house believers. They may have physical poverty, they may lack the things that I have, the meals, the shelter, the fresh clean water.  And of course there are those that still need the good news of a God who loves them.  Some live in hopelessness, despair and a constant feeling of powerlessness within their impoverished circumstances. Imagine having nothing and without any hope.

But the Christians here are rich in their faith.  My own spiritual poverty becomes more obvious…and I recognize just as they need my help,  I need their help for my spiritual poverty.  For sin and sin and I am no better.   God did not curse those that are poor, He is not punishing them, on the contrary, He is with the poor.  The Ethiopian Church is rich in their faith, and we in American are rich in our pockets.

Not too long ago, I heard someone preach that God will take care of all of our needs. And then they went on, when we trust Him, He will give us food,   shelter and water.  Humm…These words were confusing to me, because in this country I meet Christians who are starving, without water, without shelter.    While we at home have full pantries, cars to drive, the ability to eat out in restaurants costing as much as what they may make here in a month, our brothers and sisters, Christ followers struggle to get their physical needs met.  Yet their faith is  so strong! The hunger for Christ, they breath His name and they are filled with the Spirit of a Living God.

Man does not live on bread alone.

We have something they need, and they have something we need. God is providing our needs right in front of our very eyes, but it’s up to us to see it and obey.  Sponsoring a child, yes this is one way, but there are many other ways to help our brothers and sisters in need.

God is with the poor.

Is HE with us in our wealth and busy lives? Yes, but we often can’t see Him because these things easily become our little gods instead.

I look forward to my week and soaking it all in and listening, and praying and seeing the children, being with those who God loves and calls for us to serve.

Indeed God is faithful!

Please forgive me in all my typo’s, grammar, and writing mistakes.  I don’t have time to edit much so give me grace:)

 

Not an ordinary Monday

20 Feb

Today, I am on my way for another adventure.  4 hours down, 22 hours to go until I land in Ethiopia.  This is my 3rd time to Ethiopia; a place of ancient culture, and beautiful and intelligent people.   I look forward to learning and seeing what God has for me on this trip and  being surrounded by vibrant Believers of our faith. I look forward to the music and the children and dancing!

I was so crazy busy last week preparing to leave while still managing all the details of my job with Compassion, and managing the life of being a mother and wife. It seems like since the new year, life has been whizzing by and the details of the day to day activities have consumed my time and all my thoughts.  My three teen children have schedules to keep and places to go, and of course Stephen has his travel too and I am in the midst of planning 40 plus Short Term Mission’s Trips for churches who partner with Compassion.  And in all the details, I often get lost in the list of things to do, I scratch off my accomplishments, only to find a brand new list waiting.   It never seems to slow down, so it’s up to me to slow it down.

But now it’s time to let go and trust God in the timing of it all.   I will be in a time zone 13 hours ahead of home, which sort of makes me shift gears.

I get so busy sometimes, I forget to see God in it all.

It’s time to see God.  It’s time to listen, and I look forward to being with HIM in this foreign land.

But…

I had a hard time letting go…maybe still having a hard time.

I have a hard time saying goodbye…it feels lonely sometimes.

I know that God has a plan for me and for this group and in this trip, I get to see Christ in the eyes of the little ones who have nothing but their faith to count on day by day.  I get to touch Christ through holding their little hands.

So I will blog if I can, and if I can’t, well…you all know that I am safe in His presence and will look forward to sharing the stories later. I do pray I have internet, as this is the way I keep connected to my family too.  It’s hard to be disconnected from the ones I love the most.

This is my Monday.

 

 

 

 

Female Friday – The Feast

17 Feb

Last night, we celebrated our final dinner together for a couple of weeks.   My girls leave for a retreat tonight, they get home late Sunday night, and then I leave for Ethiopia on Monday morning.  It’s bitter sweet.  Everyone is excited about what they are doing, but saying goodbye and separating is the hardest part.

We gathered around the table and had a nice meal that we had prepared together. ( I like the potato and broccoli dish that Isabel designed.)

You know… there are times I fail as mom…miserably.

There are times my three girls fight and make me crazy.

There are times Steve and I argue.

There are times I grow frustrated.

There are times of stress, and anxiety and days I am way too busy for my own good.  But something seems to happen at night when we sit down to gather around a meal at this table.   (Please notice the girl scout cookies in the upper right hand corner that have been invited to the table).

And then we say grace for what He has given us and we pray for those who are in need.

Isaiah 25:6
6 “And the Lord of hosts will prepare a lavish banquet for all peoples on this mountain; a banquet of aged wine, choice pieces with marrow, and refined, aged wine.

We are grateful for the feast!!

        ( BTW -we eat more then Girl Scout cookies such as protein and vegetables!!)

Certainly there are times we argue at this table, and there are tears; but other days there is so much laughter and fun…like when we eat chocolate fondue.

Yes, we kiss at this table and often I hold Isabel’s hand underneath the table because she always sits next to me.

The table is a spiritual place filled with stories of our lives and this table deserves credit.  I try to honor this table with beautiful meals, candles and place settings.  There is something to be said about dressing up a table for a feast to help set a mood!

Out of all my travels in the world here is my favorite spot.  You all know it.  I write about it frequently and I would say that every family needs a place like this where they commit to gathering.  This is the place where love happens and we are fed both in body and in spirit.

I will miss my table when I am gone.  I always think about it while I travel and I look forward to coming back and sitting in my chair.Preview

His precious presence

6 Feb

Sunday morning

I looked out on the crowd at church from my corner where I sit and watched her stand; a woman who usually is isolated to her wheel chair, she is the first to stand up and sing this song.

“I will rise when He calls my name, no more sorrow, no more pain.”  (Tomlin, Giglio, Maher, Reeves)

Watching her worship brought tears to my eyes.  Her small frame, recently disabled by a disease she didn’t ask for, her hands held high toward Heaven, her face beaming, her eyes closed, she smiles as she reaches for His presence.

Monday afternoon

I hear news today from one of my very best friends in the world.  “I have cancer.”

She doesn’t have all the answers yet, she needs to go in for surgery, but this news distracted me all day and I am upset because I can’t fix it.

Yet, she shares these words from her devotions this morning.

“Lift up empty hands of faith to receive My precious presence”

Between the Superbowl parties, the birthdays, the travels and the lessons of life, I often forget to lift up my hands to receive His precious presence.  Why is it in our pain we are reminded to do this? 

And as the sun sets on another day of life, I look out on the sky tonight from my office… which also happens to be Isabel’s bedroom, and I am reminded that each day, each and every day is such a precious gift to be lived out in the fullest.

With our breath, our bodies, our minds and our spirit, and every ounce of living we have, we need to LIVE in the big open space of His precious presence.  Oh His mercies are new every morning and His grace is sufficient and wonderful and His presence brings us comfort, peace and strength.

I get so busy sometimes ya know…I spend time doing stupid things or I forget to find meaning in the tasks that truly are important, like looking in the eyes of my girls, or holding Stephen’s hand.

And when we reach for His precious presence…I believe that HE swoops us up like a child an embraces us. Don’t you just want to be held sometimes?

Psalm 57:10 For great is your love, reaching to the heavens, your faithfulness reaches to the skies.  (NIV version)

The Most Beautiful Girl in the World

24 Jan

We visited a church sandwiched between a Hindu neighborhood and a Muslim neighborhood. The children were just alive with the love of Christ, you could see it in their smiles. I was on the face painting team for the day, and what a blessing to be able to see each kid’s smiling face as I make them in to a tiger (a generous title). One little girl, after I painted her face, grabbed my head and kissed my cheek. My heart melted many times that day. I also met a girl who, with her friends, played a wrist cutting game, to see who could cut more. My heart broke many times that day.

In the midst of all this joy and pain, in a little home about a 5 minute walk from the church lives the most beautiful girl in the world.

Her name is Rubina. Her brother is a sponsored child and so we were brought to his home. Our group crouched through the 4 foot tall door into their mud walled, thatch roofed home and we were stunned that such beauty could live in a place like this. She smiled with love and greeted me with a “Hello sister!” She could take anyone’s breath away with her smile alone.

Her father spoke, he began to tell us his testimony. He told us that while working, he fell off of something and became paralized. The doctors told him they couldn’t help him. For 6 months he was paralyzed. His son then went to the Compassion project and asked the staff to pray over his dad. The staff went to his home and prayed over his father. The dad said, I then believed in Jesus and I was healed. It took six months to fully heal, but he knew it was Jesus that healed him.

We asked him what struggles their family faced, and he explained that their roof leaked because it was made of thatch. They wanted an asbestos roof instead. Rubina smiled as he told his story.

Among all of this hardship, this beautiful girl could smile and say that one day she would be a bank manager, and her brother would be a computer engineer.

I struggled with how this beautiful creation of God could live in a home without a proper roof. How she could stand and say, in perfect English, that she would not only be a banker, but manage the bank. She dreamed sky high while surrounded by complete darkness, and told by her culture’s religion that she was worthless.

Why was I allowed to be born in the United States? Why were His plans for me to live in the US, instead of Rubna? I doubt I will ever know.

We asked the father what we could pray for. He, without hesitation said, “Spiritual growth. We must grow in our relationship with Jesus. After that, God will take care of the rest of things like the roof and other needs.” I can only pray that I have half of the faith that that family has, and dream half as much as that beautiful girl.

My Special Friend

23 Jan

“Dear Remya, my daughters name is Julia, she would like to be your special friend.” That is how, eleven years ago my very first letter to Remya started, I was too young to write, so my mom wrote for me.

Meeting her was eleven years of anticipation and expectations. And that day blew them all out of the water. If ever a day was perfect, it was yesterday.

She held onto me the whole day, we went to a zoo, the kind where the monkeys ran free, and goldfish were so unheard of, they were in the aquarium. We had pizza for lunch, her first slice of pizza. Then we went to an old Buddhist temple where the monks used to live. Small square rooms carved out of a rock hill. Remya and I climbed to the top where we could see all of Bhubaneswar. We sang her happy birthday.

We went back to the hotel and talked some. As we asked questions, we found that her oldest brother had just started to recover from Polio this year. Her mother has no work, and her father cuts down coconuts for a living. He receives about twenty cents per coconut. That is what the family lives on. I had no idea that her situation was that rough, it was hard to hear.

Remya handed me a photo album. She had pictures of her family, and the first pictures I had sent her, from when I was very small. It was funny to see all of the history between us. She also had pictures of her friends the “Sixen Beauties”. I had sent her a picture of me and my best friend in a field a while back, which she had photo shopped over, so that it was her in the field with me. We got a big kick out of that. I learned that she wanted to be a teacher for computer sciences.

Remya had also brought her file with her. Every Compassion child has a file, it includes their grades, their medical records, and every letter she and I had ever written to each other in it.  It was overwhelming. It was both of our histories, all of the pictures we drew, all of the questions we asked. It was amazing to see.

Throughout the day I really fell in love with this wonderful girl. I loved how she wouldn’t let go of me, I loved how she loved my “fish eyes”, I loved how she cried as we said goodbye and she held me tight, I loved how she could only say “I love you so much” through her tears, I love how her mother grabbed my chin and smiled as she said I was like another daughter to her. I loved that day, and I love Remya. Words really can’t describe my day with that wonderful girl. God really did put us together for a reason. She has been my “special friend”, and a huge part of my life. One day, after eleven years, was worth all of the goodbye tears at the end, all of the sponsorship money. This relationship is priceless.

I have come to terms now that this will be the last time my family or I will get to see her, that we only have one more year to write letters before she graduates from the program. But I know that one day, I will see her again in heaven, my Kingdom friend. And it will be a joyous day, because we won’t have to say goodbye. I can’t wait till then.

Deep

20 Jan

I would love for you to meet a little boy named Deep Halder.

At five months old, doctors found that he was born with Thalassemia. Thalassemia is a hereditary blood disease that makes an abnormal form of hemoglobin. Because of this, every six weeks he needs a blood transfusion. The disorder is very costly, especially to a family bellow the poverty line. When he was diagnosed with this disease, his mother and father abandoned him and married other people. He has not heard from his parents since then.

His grandparents took Deep in and raised him. Every six weeks, Deep’s grandparents take him to the doctor to get his blood transfusion, which costs 1600 rupees, equivalent to 31 US dollars.

Deep’s grandfather drives a rickshaw; on good days he makes about 50 rupees.

Deep’s grandmother is a housemaid. She makes about 700 rupees a month.

If you try and do the math, Deep’s transfusions cost roughly 80% of the families income.

Deep sat playing with a little strip of fabric as his grandmother told us of their struggles. We sat on the bed in their two-room palm frond walled home and looked at that adorable little five-year-old, shy as could be, and I wondered how he was still alive. We asked the grandmother how they managed to pay for his transfusions, she replied that Compassion International paid for all his medical needs, and so in the Lords name, Compassion saved this adorable little boy’s life.

After this, we asked the grandmother what we could pray for, she said to pray for healing in Deep. So we prayed over Deep, we prayed for healing in his blood.

While we were leaving, the grandmother looked me in the eye and took my hand in both of hers and told me to come again. I can’t explain why this was so powerful to me, but I knew that it was completely genuine, and I could see the love in her eyes. What an amazing woman.

Please pray for Deep and his loving grandparents.

On my way! by Julia

17 Jan

I’m flying out today! Super excited! My dad and I have a 30 hour travel day ahead of us! Lets hope that it goes quicker than it sounds. Sunday, I had some friends over and we packaged 327 craft bags and 75 pairs of shoes! We even got it all to fit into one bag.

Yesterday my mom and I were looking through my file of Remya’s letters and old pictures, and we found that her birthday will be on January 20th, the day before I meet her! How exciting is that?! What a cool birthday celebration.

I cant wait to get there and see everything!

Thanks for the prayers! I’ll be posting my all of my adventures.

~Julia

My mommy cries – by Julia

13 Jan

There are only three days until I leave for India now. I was talking to my mom and dad last night about the trip when I realized how weird this was for my mom. Don’t get me wrong, I know that sending your child overseas without you has got to be a challenging experience, but I didn’t know why it was affecting her so much.

Last night we sat around our dinner table and she couldn’t help herself from tearing up. I couldn’t understand, because I will be going with my dad and I will be safe with him. She knows that. So she shouldn’t be worrying. However, she explained to me that she wasn’t worrying. She was just sad that she was missing this experience with her daughter. I realize that this isn’t a small thing, I am going half way across the world to a place where darkness is everywhere, I am going to see God in ways I never have, I’m going to meet people who’s lives depend fully on the Lord, and I am going without my mommy.

Let me tell you a great memory that I have of my mom. In the eighth grade my family went to Kenya, I had refused all week to put my hair up. Well, one of those days, I found my head itching uncontrollably. I asked my dad to look at my head and sure enough, there were cute little lice jumping all around my head. My mom and dad had sat down in their room and they pulled the little creatures out of my hair and I had the pleasant job of squishing them. Yay… Well, that night our trip leader went out and found some lice medication (a lot like pesticides for your hair), and my mom sat in the bathroom that night and rubbed that nasty stuff all over my head. The next morning I woke up lice free. She helped me fix my hair up everyday on the trip. Every night for a couple weeks after that trip my mom would straighten my hair and pull the dead lice eggs out of my hair. She had been there the whole time helping me patiently, and kindly. It was an experience that we both shared and can look back with a (sort of) smile together.

Throughout the planning process of the trip, my mom has been crazy, and I didn’t know why. She constantly told me about the things I would see, and how I would feel about things, how crazy the airports were, how I would love this or hate that. I was going nuts! Everyday she asked me how I was feeling about the trip, one day she asked me at least three times within just a couple hours (believe me, after a few months of this you would go crazy too).

But my mom wasn’t trying to pester me, she just wanted to experience this all with me, like she had in Africa, or the Dominican Republic. She wanted to be able to see her daughter change, and be able to understand why. And now I see why she tears up when she thinks about me leaving. And I know now how much I will miss her when I’m gone. Because lets be honest, there is absolutely no way that my dad will ever help me fix my hair!

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