I’m lying in my hammock on the beach of the Philippines underneath our tree house hostel… (yes, I did say tree house)… and I’m trying to process these past three months in just three short days of debrief.
What is “debrief,” you ask? Debrief is a couple days that are set aside every few months to pour into each other as a family, seek wisdom, share stories, worship together, attend to the health of the teams, encourage our brothers and sisters in their own walks with the Lord…..and think. There is so much to think about and so little time to do so during a ministry month, so I’m grateful for these three days that are set aside for just that.
It’s so easy to forget to reflect. What we experience on the race has the opportunity to change our lives forever if we allow it to. Ultimately, though, that choice is each of ours. My fear is not making the most of these unique experiences. So here I sit– trying to process whatever the heck is going on in this world and in my own life.
I learned some incredible things last month from the country itself. The culture in Ethiopia is one of hospitality, taking time, and building relationships.
-When you ask someone for directions, they are likely to walk 20 minutes out of their way to get you where you want to go.
-When you show up for a business meeting, you will likely be blessed with a “coffee ceremony” involving endless cups of insanely strong coffee and popcorn.
-When you sit down to talk with a homeless woman, she will probably offer you her only pillow (newspaper) to sit on.
-When walking down the street, you will be greeted kindly with, “Welcome to Ethiopia! How you see it?” by nearly everyone that notices you… and if you are white, everyone will notice you.
God told me at the very beginning of the month that I was going to shed tears for Ethiopia, and I have. I’ve never seen so much pain or witnessed so much need. I’ve never felt like I had so little to offer.
….And I’ve never seen such a vivid example of a nation desperate for God’s glorious redemption.
I don’t want these things to leave me unchanged. I refuse to see everything and do nothing.
As I write this, I am reminded of a song written by Brooke Fraser reflecting on her time spent in Rwanda…
“Now that I have seen, I am responsible. Faith without deeds is dead.”
(Albertine)
One of my favorite moments in Ethiopia was swinging a beautiful 3-year-old street child between the arms of a friend and myself as we walked down the sidewalk. Do you remember this game from your childhood? You held hands with adults on both sides of you and they lifted your arms up high so that your feet came off the ground for a few strides. I saw a smile and heard a laugh that this beautiful girl didn’t have the opportunity to use very often, if ever, because this child was a beggar. She had been taught to follow people down the sidewalk with her hands out in front of her waiting for someone to put money into them. That was the life she would likely live for the rest of her life. She may never dance on top of her bed in her very own bedroom. She may never play dress up with her best friends. She may never even enjoy a good, fun, bubble bath with all her favorite floating toys. But that day, she was swung in the air by two complete strangers who wanted to give her something more meaningful than a couple of birr, and she was genuinely happy. We gave that sweet girl her childhood back, if only for a minute, and our love was the most beautiful gift we had to offer..
