When we launched from Atlanta in August, I was beyond excited for new friends and experiences but I remember dreading 11 months of hard goodbyes as well. At the end of month one in India, the departure was less painful than I originally thought but not without a few tears as we left. Leaving the boys we lived with in a tiny Indian village was difficult for sure, but not unbearably so. I thought that month one would easily be the hardest goodbye, but I was wrong.
I find myself with a heavy heart writing this blog (which is why it is a few weeks late). I’ve simply procrastinated putting thoughts into words.
Month six in Ethiopia brought new experiences and new hardships in a new continent entirely. I learned more about my Father and about myself in the process. I learned how to be a better friend and follower of Jesus. I learned how to love recklessly and whole-heartedly the way Jesus did.
We arrived at HOPEthiopia with fresh eyes as we looked upon the African countryside for the first time. As soon as the van door rolled open, several little arms had already pushed their way into the vehicle and wrapped around us. Their excitement was both hilarious and adorable. Living at an African orphanage for a month and having 24 kids hug and kiss you every chance they get? This is what dreams are made of!
The first day turned into the first week and before we realized it, we were about to get on a van to catch a flight to our next country. Ethiopia was our longest month of ministry, but it felt like the one place I could live for the rest of my life. We played games like tag and soccer until we were huffing and puffing to keep up (which didn’t take long with the considerable elevation).
If you have ever been involved with children’s ministry, you know that you are not supposed to have “favorites.” But we all know that some kids just grab your heart and won’t let go. For me that kid was Daawiti. He is 8 years old and he is a natural soccer goalie. He has the sweetest smile and the biggest heart. Every time he is given a snack, he always shares it with some of the other children and/or with the Racers. When we walked to church (or anywhere, really) he insisted on carrying my water bottle or bible for me. If I walked past the soccer field to go to our dorms during the day, I would hear “Luqaas!!” and look up to see Daawiti sprinting to give me a hug as if he hadn’t seen me in weeks. He is quiet and reserved, but he loves to cuddle. Every time we had movie night with the kids, he would take my hand saying, “You. Me. Sit.” And of course I would find a way to get to him and snuggle for a few minutes even if I had other responsibilities.
Daawiti taught me what it looks like to love unconditionally. He may never fully realize the impact he had on my life and on my outlook on ministry. The most peculiar thing about Daawiti and all the kids at HOPEthiopia was the way they loved SO HARD. They have had visitors come to the orphanage in the past, and they knew when we got there that we would have to leave in a few weeks. Even knowing we would leave, they chose to love us with everything they had and they convinced us to do the same.
On the last day of ministry, we woke up early to begin spending time with the kids and say goodbye. Almost our entire squad was lined up outside of the kids’ homes and as the children poured out, they hugged and kissed each of us. When Daawiti came out of the house he came straight to me and just held me. I hugged him back expecting him to let go and move on to the next Racer, but he just stayed there. I picked him up and just held him as he wept through my sweatshirt.
I looked around at my squamates and saw tears falling as they hugged children as well. I realized that I could not feel anything. I wasn’t sad or happy. I wasn’t broken or excited. I was just numb. I held Daawiti and told him how much I loved him, but for some reason I had just bottled up my emotions and it just left me cold.
The rest of the day was kind of a slow blur. We had several hours to clean up the compound and finish packing. I tried to distract myself from the kids all around me because I refused to let myself hurt.
The time finally came to load up the vans and roll out. We prayed over our travel and over the ministry at HOPEthiopia and we hit the road. A little ways down the driveway we could see the kids gathering. As we got closer we realized what they had done. They created a blockade out of pipes, hoses, limbs, rocks, and pretty much anything 24 kids could manually move. They were telling us we could not leave and they were arguing with our drivers to take us back. At the front of the pack was none other than my little buddy Daawiti.
The staff moved some of the debris, managed to get the van past the blockade, and sped down the driveway to the gate. The kids sprinted to the gate where they had set up a second road block. At this point they seemed more upset at us. My squamates and I were flattered that they wanted us to stay so badly.
“How cute!” we said.
Then I saw him. Daawiti was there frowning at me with a large rock and his eyebrows furrowed. I smiled at him through the window, but he didn’t return it. He looked at me with rage and shouted, “No! You stay!”
I saw could still see the tear stains on his cheeks. I saw a child who had been abandoned by his parents. I saw a little boy who had let himself love me with everything he had and I was just another foreigner who had broken his heart.
He yelled at me and made a fist. His fury was very clear to everyone in the van and I was so ashamed of myself.
I could not get the image of Daawiti waving his fist at me as we drove away out of my head. I was so discouraged that we had just had such a beautiful time that month and my very last image of my friend was an image of pain.
To him I probably seem to be just another person who came, loved him, and chose him before packing my bags and rolling out to find the next group of kids. This has begged a question that has not yet come up for me on the Race.
Am I doing more harm than good?
I mean how could one month of kissing and hugging orphans really make a difference besides compounding a feeling of abandonment and the lie of “you are unwanted.” When Daawiti looks back on childhood in 15 years will he remember the faces of all those who left him and find my face in the midst of them?
I took these things to the Lord and just sat with Him. In bringing Daawiti’s pain to the Father, I finally broke loose and let myself feel it, too. I cried for him. I cried for his family. I cried for the other kids at the orphanage. I cried as I made myself to be a monster who hurts people and is not doing anything effective for the Name of Jesus.
Job 38.
In the middle of my sob-fest, I felt the Lord call me to read Job 38.
“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?”
[Job 38:4]
Who am I to question the intentions of the Almighty God. To question the effectiveness of the love and gospel I shared with 24 Ethiopian orphans is to turn and spit in the face of the One who called me here and who gave me Life. We were called to go and visit those kids. It says so in Scripture! (see James 1:27)
The World Race (and the Christian life for that matter) has been repeatedly leaving comfortability to follow Jesus into sometimes dark and hopeless places to bring Light and Life. I now get the choice to either deny the Father and His calling to share His gospel by wallowing in my self-pity and brokenness or choose to trust Him and His purpose.
I don’t have all the answers. I don’t have a book on “How to Love Perfectly and Never Hurt Anyone Ever,” but I do have a Savior who does have all the answers. I do serve a King who knows my heart and Daawiti’s heart. I do follow a God who walked this earth and loved recklessly no matter how long He spent in one place. Would Jesus avoid visiting orphanages to spare them pain? I’m not so sure He would.
So here’s to month 7 and crossing the halfway point of my Race. I want to be the kind of man who follows Jesus into those dark and painful places. I want to love people recklessly because Jesus has done that for me.
Every time I look at my journal I can remember Daawiti and the lessons he taught me because he traced his hand and signed it for me.
Take a moment today to reflect on the goodness of God and on His heart for His children. Do you reflect that well? When was the last time you loved so hard it hurt? I don’t mean a kind of human love. No, I mean the kind of love where you desperately want your sister or your dad or your coworker to come to know Christ. The kind of love where you fight for a friend who is going through a divorce or who has just lost a loved one. The kind of love that gets into the dirt and plays with kids who otherwise would have very few people to love them.
Spend some time today reading through 1 Corinthians chapter 13 and seeking the Father’s face. I promise it won’t be time wasted.
My friend Mary Claire Brogden made a beautiful video featuring all of our friends in Ethiopia, so I’ve attached it here. Enjoy this little glimpse into the month we spent with these beautiful souls!
