Thanks for your patience, and of course your prayers and support.
God bless.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
An update
Well, by now most people know (hopefully) that our team made it back safely. We had an amazing trip. Due to Internet issues and a busy schedule, we were unable to update the blog as much as we had hoped. However, notes were still taken each day and we hope to post the remaining entries starting later this week.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Day Four — Little ones to Him belong
We kicked off today with breakfast and a devotional from Tina. Tina, from Louisville, Ken., joined our team late and is a valuable addition to the trip. Her background in missions and team organizing is evident.
Once again, we returned to Merkato. We walked a short distance from the street children center to a church to spend time with the children in LIA's at-risk children's program. The church is essentially a series of rooms behind the same metal facade of the rest of the area's structures. It is much bigger inside than you'd think. The large room where the students are is even built using the same bricks and paint found in our schools back home. Inside are rows of children, ranging in ages from roughly 8 to 16. They are very happy to see us. Many are shy and sneak quick glances of our faces. Others, like those on the streets, extend their hand just wanting to touch you. Some boys rub their hand on my arm hair and pull at it. I act like it hurts to make them laugh. (It actually did hurt, but I eventually stopped crying.) We get to the front of the room, which, back home, could maybe fit two cars bumper to bumper. Here, there are about 150 children.
We introduce ourselves and Debelle has each of them repeat our names. Then, they each introduce themselves. Yes, every one of them. Many are shy and find it difficult to stand up and say their name. Debelle encourages these children to stand with confidence. Others are proud to share who they are. Debelle shares the meaning of nearly every child's name. Examples include covenant, resurrection and strength.
A few children are then invited to share their stories. The first is an older girl who told us yesterday in her classroom that she wants to be an engineer. Like yesterday, she's intelligent and outspoken. She proudly tells us of her nation's history and her dream of attending college in America only to return to help the street children of Addis Ababa.
The second child, Benjamin, 13, (although he looks much young) moved us in a different way. Wearing an orange hoodie and jean jacket, he stood before us and told his story with help from Debelle. His father left when he was young and told his mother she could get rid of him if she wanted to. His family now lives in the kitchen of another family's house. The other family regularly "discourages and disappoints" them. A few sentences into his story, he begins wiping away tears.
"I don't forget what my mother do in my life," he said. "She is my cause for reaching here."
He said the at-risk project allows him to have an education. He wants to be a "science researcher."
Debelle put his arm around Benjamin as if he's the father the boy never had, and kissed him on the cheek. You can tell he feels each child's pain with them.
Another girl told how she's lived with her aunt since her father committed suicide after entering a depression from his family's poverty. She shared with us her father's last words to her aunt.
"'I give this kid to your hands. I'm going to go die.'"
This girl told us how the at-risk street children project has given her clothing, counseling and education. She wishes to be a doctor.
Another boy, 10 (who looked maybe 5), had been sitting quietly by our team near the front of the room this whole time. When he stood up to talk, many of us were surprised. The bravery of this quiet little boy was powerful. As he shared his story, he stood there slightly bent over with his face looking down at the ground. His father left him. His mother raised him by begging. She still begs and may have a broken leg. When he finished speaking, Gary leaned over to give him a hug. The boy's crestfallen face suddenly lit up with a bright smile. He just needs love. Rich then pulled the boy into his arms and didn't let go.
Following the stories from the children, members of our team shared their views on the importance of education.
Kelly, a speech pathologist at Ridgeview Elementary School in Olathe, put her teaching skills to work. She explained how she's shy and not comfortable with getting up in front of so many people, but she's inspired by the courage they displayed by sharing their stories. She discussed when she realized how important her education was to her, and shared stories of the students at her school who actually have similar stories to the children in the room. She praised them for their attention and respect, and had them stand up, stretch and then touch their toes. She also shared the joys of being a teacher and working with children.
Then a hand went up in the back of the room. An older boy wanted to tell her something.
"I had in mind what I wanted to do for work," Debelle translated for us. "Looking to you at this time, I decided to be a teacher."
"You will love it," Kelly said, smiling. "It's a wonderful profession."
Kelly then encouraged those who are able to go to school to share what they know with their friends who don't attend.
"I think the future of your community is in the hands of the children in this room," she said.
"Thank you, Kelly," the children shouted back.
Then Lisa spoke. She has a similar background of speech therapy, but works in both school and hospitals settings.
"I went to school for a long time, but every day I learn something new and there is a new person I can help," she told the children. "Without my education, I wouldn't be able to have relationships with people who are very different than I am and who have different needs than I do."
She expressed pride for the children's dedication to their own education.
With some children in the room expressing a desire to be an engineer, Kent spoke about being an engineer for Garmin.
He, too, spoke about the value of education, the blessings that work provides and the importance of his relationship with Christ.
"When I was 10, I learned that Jesus loves me and I know Jesus loves you," he told the kids. "That's why I am here — because Jesus loves you."
Next, the children wanted to sing us a song. It was a beautiful clap-a-long tune that put a smile on each of our faces. Then they wanted us to sing. We decided on "Jesus Loves Me" and "All I Need." The line from the first song, "Little ones to Him belong, they are weak but he is strong," rang true today.
Beauty and school
After lunch we went out into the rain (and even at one point, hail) to visit a beauty school. It's one of the training centers where the hardcore street children learn job skills. There we saw Habtamu cutting a young boys hair. It was a cool thing to see him using skills he's recently learned, which, after he finishes training, will help him earn more income anywhere he wants to travel. An intimate, conversational vocation, such as cutting people's hair, is perfect for a young man who has a heart for the Gospel and easing people's pain.
Elsewhere in the school we saw a number of other students, both boys and girls, cutting and curling hair. A flat iron here means metal scissor-like tools that are literally placed on blue flames to be heated and then placed on a woman's hair. Both the hair of the students and their clients is beautiful. Since it's a school, the haircuts, etc., are free. If it were an actual salon, we learned that women would pay the equivalent of $2 for their new hairdo. We told them similar hair stylings would cost at least $70 back home. The women who heard this starred straight in front of them, as if to see what that would look like for them.
A mother (and father's) love
That evening, we went back to the street children project center in Merkato to meet the mothers — and one father — of the at-risk children we met this morning. Walking into the office we saw them sitting near the back, each wearing the most beautiful clothing and headdress. Each is older than you might think, but each is beautiful and dignified. The mothers greet us with strong hand shakes and hugs, and warm smiles. They are excited to see people from last year's trip, especially Peggy, who is a sister to them. One lady, who was apparently infatuated with John last year, quickly ran up to him after seeing him. It does appear as if the crush is still there. John is all smiles. (Debelle often calls John "the longest John" for his height, by the way.)
The center's staff prepared an Ethiopian coffee ceremony for our meeting. These are a big deal here. A woman sat near the door, roasting green coffee beans before our very eyes. Near her sat an ornate set of little coffee cups and plates. They later passed around hot buttered popcorn (we were just as surprised as you are reading this) and small plates of roasted barley. While the coffee is being prepared at one end of the room, we introduce ourselves to the dozen or so mothers and the father, who then introduce themselves to us. They each have between one to eight children.
The parents each spoke about the benefits they and their children have received through the project, including food, clothing, school uniforms, blankets and soap, among other things. The father shared how he, his son and daughter earned money through the project and decided to buy a PlayStation (Yes, that kind of PlayStation) and, essentially, open an arcade. The family made 44 birr last month. When asked what game they play, he said, "soccer." Rich stood up, clapping. He plays that game, too.
It was then coffee time. We are told by one of the center's teachers that coffee, or kaffe, comes from the Kaffa region of Ethiopia. It was actually discovered by goats, who ate the beans and became "excited." Those who witnessed the wired goats apparently said, "I'll have what they're having."
As the coffee cups were handed to each of us sitting in our circle, the few non-coffee drinkers sat between those of us who are coffee addicts to hand over their cups after they at least took a sip. We are proud to say that Kent now likes coffee. He had his first sip, ever, at the age of 46 in the slums of Merkato. Others hand multiple cups. Lizz had five.
Peggy then spoke to the mothers in the room.
"God has given you a special heart, one that cares for people," she said. "You will be the ones who make a difference in Ethiopia because of the love you give your families and communities. You have a special place in God's heart. I pray that I will always remember you, but I am human. I may forget one day, but God will never forget. He will always remember."
The mothers then waved their hands toward Peggy, as if to direct God where to send a blessing.
One mother stood up and shared how last year's visit from our team blessed her.
"Last year, some of you went into my home and prayed for me and this year I am observing many changes," she said. "My child is doing well and I am able to provide for my family. My son is in school and he is doing well. I also observe changes in my business and I am very comfortable."
Another shared a similar story.
"After you touch my home the blessing for my home was visible, I assure you," she said.
Alison, who the mothers were excited to learn is the daughter of Doug and Jan from last year's trip, spoke about the importance of parental support in her life and the struggles she has as a mom that these mothers likely share.
"I'm so proud of your beautiful children and how you are raising them," she said. "I will continue to pray for your families."
Kent spoke about the importance of keeping Christ as the center of his family. Peggy spoke again how God will never leave the mothers and will always be with them. Following the talks, the mothers asked us to pray for them. One said her daughter is sick. Another said her daughter has fallen away from Christ. Jeff led us all in prayer for the mothers, the father and their children.
Then, to thank us for our teachings and encouragement, the parents and staff sang two songs for us. Each was moving, worshipful and joyful. We clapped our hands with them as they sang. The mothers even did the high pitched "leyleyleyleyleyley" chants, which essentially means hallelujah.
Hearing these songs, your spirit is lifted, a smile grows on your face and you are grateful.
Then, as we said goodbye, we took turns hugging each of the parents. Small Ethiopian mothers give the best bear hugs ever.
Once again, we returned to Merkato. We walked a short distance from the street children center to a church to spend time with the children in LIA's at-risk children's program. The church is essentially a series of rooms behind the same metal facade of the rest of the area's structures. It is much bigger inside than you'd think. The large room where the students are is even built using the same bricks and paint found in our schools back home. Inside are rows of children, ranging in ages from roughly 8 to 16. They are very happy to see us. Many are shy and sneak quick glances of our faces. Others, like those on the streets, extend their hand just wanting to touch you. Some boys rub their hand on my arm hair and pull at it. I act like it hurts to make them laugh. (It actually did hurt, but I eventually stopped crying.) We get to the front of the room, which, back home, could maybe fit two cars bumper to bumper. Here, there are about 150 children.
We introduce ourselves and Debelle has each of them repeat our names. Then, they each introduce themselves. Yes, every one of them. Many are shy and find it difficult to stand up and say their name. Debelle encourages these children to stand with confidence. Others are proud to share who they are. Debelle shares the meaning of nearly every child's name. Examples include covenant, resurrection and strength.
A few children are then invited to share their stories. The first is an older girl who told us yesterday in her classroom that she wants to be an engineer. Like yesterday, she's intelligent and outspoken. She proudly tells us of her nation's history and her dream of attending college in America only to return to help the street children of Addis Ababa.
The second child, Benjamin, 13, (although he looks much young) moved us in a different way. Wearing an orange hoodie and jean jacket, he stood before us and told his story with help from Debelle. His father left when he was young and told his mother she could get rid of him if she wanted to. His family now lives in the kitchen of another family's house. The other family regularly "discourages and disappoints" them. A few sentences into his story, he begins wiping away tears.
"I don't forget what my mother do in my life," he said. "She is my cause for reaching here."
He said the at-risk project allows him to have an education. He wants to be a "science researcher."
Debelle put his arm around Benjamin as if he's the father the boy never had, and kissed him on the cheek. You can tell he feels each child's pain with them.
Another girl told how she's lived with her aunt since her father committed suicide after entering a depression from his family's poverty. She shared with us her father's last words to her aunt.
"'I give this kid to your hands. I'm going to go die.'"
This girl told us how the at-risk street children project has given her clothing, counseling and education. She wishes to be a doctor.
Another boy, 10 (who looked maybe 5), had been sitting quietly by our team near the front of the room this whole time. When he stood up to talk, many of us were surprised. The bravery of this quiet little boy was powerful. As he shared his story, he stood there slightly bent over with his face looking down at the ground. His father left him. His mother raised him by begging. She still begs and may have a broken leg. When he finished speaking, Gary leaned over to give him a hug. The boy's crestfallen face suddenly lit up with a bright smile. He just needs love. Rich then pulled the boy into his arms and didn't let go.
Following the stories from the children, members of our team shared their views on the importance of education.
Kelly, a speech pathologist at Ridgeview Elementary School in Olathe, put her teaching skills to work. She explained how she's shy and not comfortable with getting up in front of so many people, but she's inspired by the courage they displayed by sharing their stories. She discussed when she realized how important her education was to her, and shared stories of the students at her school who actually have similar stories to the children in the room. She praised them for their attention and respect, and had them stand up, stretch and then touch their toes. She also shared the joys of being a teacher and working with children.
Then a hand went up in the back of the room. An older boy wanted to tell her something.
"I had in mind what I wanted to do for work," Debelle translated for us. "Looking to you at this time, I decided to be a teacher."
"You will love it," Kelly said, smiling. "It's a wonderful profession."
Kelly then encouraged those who are able to go to school to share what they know with their friends who don't attend.
"I think the future of your community is in the hands of the children in this room," she said.
"Thank you, Kelly," the children shouted back.
Then Lisa spoke. She has a similar background of speech therapy, but works in both school and hospitals settings.
"I went to school for a long time, but every day I learn something new and there is a new person I can help," she told the children. "Without my education, I wouldn't be able to have relationships with people who are very different than I am and who have different needs than I do."
She expressed pride for the children's dedication to their own education.
With some children in the room expressing a desire to be an engineer, Kent spoke about being an engineer for Garmin.
He, too, spoke about the value of education, the blessings that work provides and the importance of his relationship with Christ.
"When I was 10, I learned that Jesus loves me and I know Jesus loves you," he told the kids. "That's why I am here — because Jesus loves you."
Next, the children wanted to sing us a song. It was a beautiful clap-a-long tune that put a smile on each of our faces. Then they wanted us to sing. We decided on "Jesus Loves Me" and "All I Need." The line from the first song, "Little ones to Him belong, they are weak but he is strong," rang true today.
Beauty and school
After lunch we went out into the rain (and even at one point, hail) to visit a beauty school. It's one of the training centers where the hardcore street children learn job skills. There we saw Habtamu cutting a young boys hair. It was a cool thing to see him using skills he's recently learned, which, after he finishes training, will help him earn more income anywhere he wants to travel. An intimate, conversational vocation, such as cutting people's hair, is perfect for a young man who has a heart for the Gospel and easing people's pain.
Elsewhere in the school we saw a number of other students, both boys and girls, cutting and curling hair. A flat iron here means metal scissor-like tools that are literally placed on blue flames to be heated and then placed on a woman's hair. Both the hair of the students and their clients is beautiful. Since it's a school, the haircuts, etc., are free. If it were an actual salon, we learned that women would pay the equivalent of $2 for their new hairdo. We told them similar hair stylings would cost at least $70 back home. The women who heard this starred straight in front of them, as if to see what that would look like for them.
A mother (and father's) love
That evening, we went back to the street children project center in Merkato to meet the mothers — and one father — of the at-risk children we met this morning. Walking into the office we saw them sitting near the back, each wearing the most beautiful clothing and headdress. Each is older than you might think, but each is beautiful and dignified. The mothers greet us with strong hand shakes and hugs, and warm smiles. They are excited to see people from last year's trip, especially Peggy, who is a sister to them. One lady, who was apparently infatuated with John last year, quickly ran up to him after seeing him. It does appear as if the crush is still there. John is all smiles. (Debelle often calls John "the longest John" for his height, by the way.)
The center's staff prepared an Ethiopian coffee ceremony for our meeting. These are a big deal here. A woman sat near the door, roasting green coffee beans before our very eyes. Near her sat an ornate set of little coffee cups and plates. They later passed around hot buttered popcorn (we were just as surprised as you are reading this) and small plates of roasted barley. While the coffee is being prepared at one end of the room, we introduce ourselves to the dozen or so mothers and the father, who then introduce themselves to us. They each have between one to eight children.
The parents each spoke about the benefits they and their children have received through the project, including food, clothing, school uniforms, blankets and soap, among other things. The father shared how he, his son and daughter earned money through the project and decided to buy a PlayStation (Yes, that kind of PlayStation) and, essentially, open an arcade. The family made 44 birr last month. When asked what game they play, he said, "soccer." Rich stood up, clapping. He plays that game, too.
It was then coffee time. We are told by one of the center's teachers that coffee, or kaffe, comes from the Kaffa region of Ethiopia. It was actually discovered by goats, who ate the beans and became "excited." Those who witnessed the wired goats apparently said, "I'll have what they're having."
As the coffee cups were handed to each of us sitting in our circle, the few non-coffee drinkers sat between those of us who are coffee addicts to hand over their cups after they at least took a sip. We are proud to say that Kent now likes coffee. He had his first sip, ever, at the age of 46 in the slums of Merkato. Others hand multiple cups. Lizz had five.
Peggy then spoke to the mothers in the room.
"God has given you a special heart, one that cares for people," she said. "You will be the ones who make a difference in Ethiopia because of the love you give your families and communities. You have a special place in God's heart. I pray that I will always remember you, but I am human. I may forget one day, but God will never forget. He will always remember."
The mothers then waved their hands toward Peggy, as if to direct God where to send a blessing.
One mother stood up and shared how last year's visit from our team blessed her.
"Last year, some of you went into my home and prayed for me and this year I am observing many changes," she said. "My child is doing well and I am able to provide for my family. My son is in school and he is doing well. I also observe changes in my business and I am very comfortable."
Another shared a similar story.
"After you touch my home the blessing for my home was visible, I assure you," she said.
Alison, who the mothers were excited to learn is the daughter of Doug and Jan from last year's trip, spoke about the importance of parental support in her life and the struggles she has as a mom that these mothers likely share.
"I'm so proud of your beautiful children and how you are raising them," she said. "I will continue to pray for your families."
Kent spoke about the importance of keeping Christ as the center of his family. Peggy spoke again how God will never leave the mothers and will always be with them. Following the talks, the mothers asked us to pray for them. One said her daughter is sick. Another said her daughter has fallen away from Christ. Jeff led us all in prayer for the mothers, the father and their children.
Then, to thank us for our teachings and encouragement, the parents and staff sang two songs for us. Each was moving, worshipful and joyful. We clapped our hands with them as they sang. The mothers even did the high pitched "leyleyleyleyleyley" chants, which essentially means hallelujah.
Hearing these songs, your spirit is lifted, a smile grows on your face and you are grateful.
Then, as we said goodbye, we took turns hugging each of the parents. Small Ethiopian mothers give the best bear hugs ever.
Day Three — We need Africa
Our second full day in Addis began with a heavy rain, but it only lasted about 30 minutes. This is typical here, for the most part.
After Kelly led us in a devotional, we were blessed with the arrival of Dr. Florence Muindi — the woman who started LIA 10 years ago (We will celebrate the 10th anniversary with her Saturday). Her husband, two boys and niece joined us for breakfast. Dr. Muindi is a calm, confident and cheerful woman whose passion for the poorest of the poor runs so deep, you can't help but think of Mother Theresa. It is her life's mission and the faith behind it can move mountains.
Her relationship with Cedar Ridge began when her family, from Kenya, lived in Olathe years ago. There, she connected with people from Cedar Ridge during its early years.
A partnership began even when LIA was more of a vision than anything.
"Cedar Ridge trusted us before we were on the ground," she told us. "Cedar Ridge got behind us 100 percent. You guys sent us to Ethiopia. You enabled us to be the hands and feet. For you to be here this week is very significant. It's a great revelation that God is great."
We're looking forward to spending more time with Dr. Muindi and her family. Today, however, they're taking time to rest.
We are off to Merkato again.
Hardcore street boys
After entering the courtyard of the Merkato street children center, we met more than a dozen of the hardcore street boys. Each is in their later teenage years. Hardcore only describes their situation of living on the streets for extended periods of time, not their spirits — at least not the version of them we met today.
During our time of prayer, Debelle told them the reason for our trip to Merkato.
"I told them that there is nothing except the love of God that brought you over here," he said. "I ask them if they have a love for you and they do. They show you by clapping for you."
Six of the boys then gave their testimonies of how God has changed them and how the street children project has supported them.
The first boy, Habtamu, 20, told us through Debelle's interpretation about the life he's lived since leaving home at the age of 8.
"I have not a good history, but my meaningful life starts with Jesus," he told his. "God is a major converter. God picked up my very trash life. Now I know God is glorified with my testimony."
After living on the streets of Addis with no money, clothes or school, Habtamu now lives in a house, is wearing clean clothes and is leading a safe life.
"It is very different in my life," he said. "I used to act cruel and had no respect for people and wanted to fight with people, but these days my character has changed. I've become obedient and humble and I respect people. God used this project as an instrument to convert my life. I cannot forget what God has done."
He said he wishes to have a successful marriage one day, continue his education and lead his own business. He also wants to serve God in his church and become a minister. He currently is training to be a hairdresser.
He said his prayer is that he never becomes so rich that he diverts from God's ways, and that he also never becomes so poor that he grows angry toward God.
"Please don't forget to pray for us," he said. "When you think of the street life and of the thousands of kids living on the streets, pray for them and may God bless you abundantly."
Many of these boys left their homes hoping to find work in Addis. Their image of the capital city was one of prosperity, however, once they made it here they were surprised by overwhelming poverty. Other hardcore boys turn to the streets because their families simply can't afford to feed another mouth.
Some of the boys were told they could have work if they handed over their money and belongings up front. It's easy to spot the scam, unless you're an 8-year-old boy who's by himself, searching for some hope in a city where everyone else has the same need. One boy said he began cheating others on his own because it proved to be a useful skill against him. They each claimed that LIA's program saved their life and, in fact, helped make it new. They give God the credit for this.
One boy, Abera, was living a good life until he became sick and lost everything. His deep poverty and despair led him to have thoughts of suicide. He wanted to "poison" himself with medicine, but he couldn't find it.
"My action failed and God let me live here today," he said.
However, he later found himself in another desperate situation and felt the same feelings again. This time he tried to electrocute himself . . . but as he touched the electricity nothing happened.
"Because of God's intervention, the electricity didn't harm me," he said.
After coming to Addis to find a better life, a friend told him about the street children project and he looked into it.
"At this point I have a good understanding that God used this project to bring me from so many dangers that would've destroyed my life," he said. "Now I am leading a different life. I consider this staff as my mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers. I believe in Jesus Christ who can save human beings from death and bring dark into light. I now live a life of light."
Following the boys' testimonies, Rich, Lizz, Gary and Jeff each gave their testimonies of how God has changed their lives. The boys listened intently to the stories and learned that those outside of Merkato and Ethiopia have their own personal struggles and life challenges, as well. The rest of us were inspired by these testimonies, too. It was an incredible experience. At one point during the exchange of stories and encouragement, something could be felt in the room. We all talked about it during our nightly debriefing time. We may need an interpreter to verbally communicate with these boys, but love was communicated in a very real way today. God tells us he is love. God was in the room.
After the testimonies, Habtamu, wearing a bright yellow shirt, jeans and a red stocking cap, humbly asked to pray for Gary and the health problems he shared during his testimony. He walked over to Gary and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"God, I know I am not good," he said. "I know that you are powerful. May your power be released in his life. May you touch him and be healed. God, you are able enough. I pray to you God to let the Spirit move through all of his life. In the name of Jesus Christ, may God give you the safest journey as you go back to your homeland."
Gary then hugged Habtamu. (We've learned that hugging is a more adequate way of saying thank you here.) We came to Ethiopia to minister to broken people, the poorest of the poor, in one of the poorest countries of our time, and we just witnessed one of these very people stand up and call out to God for us in our brokenness. We're beginning to understand the phrase, "I need Africa more than Africa needs me."
Going for a prayer walk
After lunch we returned to Merkato — this time to walk among its people in their environment. We split into smaller groups, each with a project staff member, and went out. As is the case with each of our visits so far, the young children run up to us giggling, smiling and looking deep into our eyes. It's as if you're a rock star, Big Bird or . . . Jesus to them. (For me, Kevin, I'm definitely getting the Big Bird vibe. Bird is the word, you know.) Most of the children, the ones who aren't shy, extend their hand and say "My name is ________, what is your name?" When you tell them your name, they repeat it as if to keep it for themselves. It's very easy to want to shake every child's hand and hug them all, even as new children continue to run up to you.
Before the walk, some members of our team felt overwhelmed by sites they'd seen earlier in the day. A begging mother with a baby strapped to her back. A young boy, probably 4-years-old, walking the streets by himself. Walking through the cobblestone alleys where these people live seemed like it would be too much. We expected to see despair, but we didn't. We saw joy. We saw gratitude for our presence. We, again, saw love. An older man whom I made eye contact with extended his hand and then embraced me as if to say, "Thank you so much for just being here."
The poor here truly do have neighborhoods, but it feels more like people playing house than anything. Or maybe permanent camping grounds. Women are out washing clothes in big bowls of soapy water and then hanging them on clotheslines they share with their neighbors across the muddy, rocky path. Other women are preparing meals on small stove-like structures. Children are running around, shouting to their friends that foreigners are here. Many of us feel frustrated that we don't know Amharic well. You want to communicate with these people and hear their stories.
The prayer walk made me wonder about so much. How do they sleep here during the cold nights when I'm freezing back in my bungalow room? How much water gets into their house during the daily downpour? What do they have that I don't?
After Kelly led us in a devotional, we were blessed with the arrival of Dr. Florence Muindi — the woman who started LIA 10 years ago (We will celebrate the 10th anniversary with her Saturday). Her husband, two boys and niece joined us for breakfast. Dr. Muindi is a calm, confident and cheerful woman whose passion for the poorest of the poor runs so deep, you can't help but think of Mother Theresa. It is her life's mission and the faith behind it can move mountains.
Her relationship with Cedar Ridge began when her family, from Kenya, lived in Olathe years ago. There, she connected with people from Cedar Ridge during its early years.
A partnership began even when LIA was more of a vision than anything.
"Cedar Ridge trusted us before we were on the ground," she told us. "Cedar Ridge got behind us 100 percent. You guys sent us to Ethiopia. You enabled us to be the hands and feet. For you to be here this week is very significant. It's a great revelation that God is great."
We're looking forward to spending more time with Dr. Muindi and her family. Today, however, they're taking time to rest.
We are off to Merkato again.
Hardcore street boys
After entering the courtyard of the Merkato street children center, we met more than a dozen of the hardcore street boys. Each is in their later teenage years. Hardcore only describes their situation of living on the streets for extended periods of time, not their spirits — at least not the version of them we met today.
During our time of prayer, Debelle told them the reason for our trip to Merkato.
"I told them that there is nothing except the love of God that brought you over here," he said. "I ask them if they have a love for you and they do. They show you by clapping for you."
Six of the boys then gave their testimonies of how God has changed them and how the street children project has supported them.
The first boy, Habtamu, 20, told us through Debelle's interpretation about the life he's lived since leaving home at the age of 8.
"I have not a good history, but my meaningful life starts with Jesus," he told his. "God is a major converter. God picked up my very trash life. Now I know God is glorified with my testimony."
After living on the streets of Addis with no money, clothes or school, Habtamu now lives in a house, is wearing clean clothes and is leading a safe life.
"It is very different in my life," he said. "I used to act cruel and had no respect for people and wanted to fight with people, but these days my character has changed. I've become obedient and humble and I respect people. God used this project as an instrument to convert my life. I cannot forget what God has done."
He said he wishes to have a successful marriage one day, continue his education and lead his own business. He also wants to serve God in his church and become a minister. He currently is training to be a hairdresser.
He said his prayer is that he never becomes so rich that he diverts from God's ways, and that he also never becomes so poor that he grows angry toward God.
"Please don't forget to pray for us," he said. "When you think of the street life and of the thousands of kids living on the streets, pray for them and may God bless you abundantly."
Many of these boys left their homes hoping to find work in Addis. Their image of the capital city was one of prosperity, however, once they made it here they were surprised by overwhelming poverty. Other hardcore boys turn to the streets because their families simply can't afford to feed another mouth.
Some of the boys were told they could have work if they handed over their money and belongings up front. It's easy to spot the scam, unless you're an 8-year-old boy who's by himself, searching for some hope in a city where everyone else has the same need. One boy said he began cheating others on his own because it proved to be a useful skill against him. They each claimed that LIA's program saved their life and, in fact, helped make it new. They give God the credit for this.
One boy, Abera, was living a good life until he became sick and lost everything. His deep poverty and despair led him to have thoughts of suicide. He wanted to "poison" himself with medicine, but he couldn't find it.
"My action failed and God let me live here today," he said.
However, he later found himself in another desperate situation and felt the same feelings again. This time he tried to electrocute himself . . . but as he touched the electricity nothing happened.
"Because of God's intervention, the electricity didn't harm me," he said.
After coming to Addis to find a better life, a friend told him about the street children project and he looked into it.
"At this point I have a good understanding that God used this project to bring me from so many dangers that would've destroyed my life," he said. "Now I am leading a different life. I consider this staff as my mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers. I believe in Jesus Christ who can save human beings from death and bring dark into light. I now live a life of light."
Following the boys' testimonies, Rich, Lizz, Gary and Jeff each gave their testimonies of how God has changed their lives. The boys listened intently to the stories and learned that those outside of Merkato and Ethiopia have their own personal struggles and life challenges, as well. The rest of us were inspired by these testimonies, too. It was an incredible experience. At one point during the exchange of stories and encouragement, something could be felt in the room. We all talked about it during our nightly debriefing time. We may need an interpreter to verbally communicate with these boys, but love was communicated in a very real way today. God tells us he is love. God was in the room.
After the testimonies, Habtamu, wearing a bright yellow shirt, jeans and a red stocking cap, humbly asked to pray for Gary and the health problems he shared during his testimony. He walked over to Gary and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"God, I know I am not good," he said. "I know that you are powerful. May your power be released in his life. May you touch him and be healed. God, you are able enough. I pray to you God to let the Spirit move through all of his life. In the name of Jesus Christ, may God give you the safest journey as you go back to your homeland."
Gary then hugged Habtamu. (We've learned that hugging is a more adequate way of saying thank you here.) We came to Ethiopia to minister to broken people, the poorest of the poor, in one of the poorest countries of our time, and we just witnessed one of these very people stand up and call out to God for us in our brokenness. We're beginning to understand the phrase, "I need Africa more than Africa needs me."
Going for a prayer walk
After lunch we returned to Merkato — this time to walk among its people in their environment. We split into smaller groups, each with a project staff member, and went out. As is the case with each of our visits so far, the young children run up to us giggling, smiling and looking deep into our eyes. It's as if you're a rock star, Big Bird or . . . Jesus to them. (For me, Kevin, I'm definitely getting the Big Bird vibe. Bird is the word, you know.) Most of the children, the ones who aren't shy, extend their hand and say "My name is ________, what is your name?" When you tell them your name, they repeat it as if to keep it for themselves. It's very easy to want to shake every child's hand and hug them all, even as new children continue to run up to you.
Before the walk, some members of our team felt overwhelmed by sites they'd seen earlier in the day. A begging mother with a baby strapped to her back. A young boy, probably 4-years-old, walking the streets by himself. Walking through the cobblestone alleys where these people live seemed like it would be too much. We expected to see despair, but we didn't. We saw joy. We saw gratitude for our presence. We, again, saw love. An older man whom I made eye contact with extended his hand and then embraced me as if to say, "Thank you so much for just being here."
The poor here truly do have neighborhoods, but it feels more like people playing house than anything. Or maybe permanent camping grounds. Women are out washing clothes in big bowls of soapy water and then hanging them on clotheslines they share with their neighbors across the muddy, rocky path. Other women are preparing meals on small stove-like structures. Children are running around, shouting to their friends that foreigners are here. Many of us feel frustrated that we don't know Amharic well. You want to communicate with these people and hear their stories.
The prayer walk made me wonder about so much. How do they sleep here during the cold nights when I'm freezing back in my bungalow room? How much water gets into their house during the daily downpour? What do they have that I don't?
Friday, August 6, 2010
Day Two — 20/20 Vision
Following breakfast and a devotional by Kent, our second day began with a warm welcome from an old friend of our team from last year.
Debelle, a project director for LIA, and a bus driver showed up to our main bungalow. After walking through the front door, Debelle (pronounced Double A) was greeted with shouts of joy from the six people who made the trip in October. It was an exciting reunion for the rest of us to witness because it gave us a glimpse of the relationships w'ell be making, too, while in Addis. Debelle, who some of us are guessing is in his mid 40s, can easily switch from lighthearted laughter to inspiring insight. He often answers questions with, "It is possible."
Our team boarded our bus and left our compound for LIA's headquarters (after an amazing breakfast by Gette, of course). Everything on the other side of our gate was eye-opening. We had missed a lot by arriving in the dark of night. There was much for our eyes to take in: beautiful young children wearing tattered clothes, worn shoes and a huge smile on their faces; elderly people laying near the street; donkeys, goats and dogs randomly walking . . . everywhere; small businesses stacked like a metal decks of cards and packed along nearly every stretch of road; the vibrant colors on clothes and on store fronts fighting with the dirt and mud for attention. It's a dizzying site — mainly because it's one that most of us haven't seen before.
Amber warned us about seeing the upcoming slaughter area to our right.
"Oh, you mean the smell?" I said. "We experienced that last night coming in."
"No, just seeing it," she said.
"Because it's out in the open or something?"
"Everything here is out in the open."
We soon passed the goat market, which included small groups of goats kept by small groups of men who sell and slaughter them on mounds of dirt and rubble right off the street.
"Sometimes you'll see a goat's head just sticking out," Amber added.
Life in Abundance headquarters
We made our way to LIA's headquarters, where Dr. Yared, executive manager of LIA, gave us a PowerPoint presentation of the organization's work in Ethiopia. His soft voice competed with the traffic just outside the windows of the third floor office. Any other such slide presentation would've lost to the car horns and truck engines, but Dr. Yared, as he's known to our team, drowned out the noise with his passion for LIA's mission and work. Dr. Yared is dressed nicely and looks professional. He means business, but inspires service.
He touches on the various projects LIA has in Addis and elsewhere in Ethiopia, primarily focusing on the Merkato Street Children project. He also mentions HIV/AIDS, child nutrition and sanitation projects. Merkato, however, is where we'll be spending a lot of time again this year.
"It is a very hard area," he said. "They are quite vulnerable and they are sensitive to people. They are very needy. Because of the deep problem they're in, they can be hostile. We have to be patient with them. We are trying to work with them very wisely. We what to love them."
Like LIA's other programs, the Merkato project focuses on the poorest of the poor. It focuses on two different types of street children. At-risk children are those who live on the streets during the day doing whatever they can to make a Birr. This may mean selling trinkets or shining shoes. Once their work is done, they return home to their families. They have a place to live. Hardcore boys are those who've lived on the streets, day and night, for a period of time. They often have no contact with their families and are wrapped up in the street life.
"You'll see many kids on the streets of Ethiopia," he said, later adding that 100,000 children live on the streets of Addis. "We are trying to break that cycle."
To do this, LIA believes in helping each child "holistically" (The "w" added by LIA). Instead of giving them fish, the boys are taught to fish. The boys are rehabilitated spiritually, socially and economically. They receive education and shelter. They also receive job skill training, among other benefits.
Other inspiring portions of Dr.Yared's presentation included his explanation of LIA's focus on the importance of the role of women in changing Ethiopia. He likened them to the "software of the nation."
"When you approach a woman, you really approach our nation as a whole," he said. "Our tradition and culture are really hard on women. We believe you must work on the software first, and then you can work on the hardware."
Another moving aspect was the evidence of the Biblical foundation LIA's built it's organization on. Dr. Yared revealed through two verses how LIA's leadership has broken down passages of Scripture to their DNA and rebuilt them as their work model and mission. After reading LIA's mission statement, he shared its source.
"John 10:10 is paraphrased here," he said. "This is our vision."
While LIA works to meet the needs of the whole person through its 17 partner churches in Ethiopia, elements of faith permeate its every move.
In Jimma, where we're set to visit later in our journey, LIA's partner churches are working with 265 at-risk and hardcore children. The program phased out last year after its three years of training and mentoring.
Why three years?
"Jesus equipped his disciples for three years," he said. " We agree with his timing."
Dr. Yared also explained how many partner organizations, such as UNICEF and USAID, are impressed with LIA's model and work. One USAID worker said she sees something different in LIA as she compares it to other organizations.
"The secret is we always communicate with God," he told her. "We e-mail him."
"Keep on that e-mail," she responded.
This "e-mail" is a regular part of LIA's work. Its staff fasts and prays each Monday until 2 p.m. It also prays for 24 hours once every month.
"This office is just like an office chapel," he said. "If you are with God, he will give you insight."
While most people might find the prayer time to be unproductive, it's essential to LIA. Dr. Yared said it gives them peace when everything around them seems hopeless.
"True peace is to sleep in the midst of a crisis," he said. "That kind of peace only comes from the Lord. That's the vision of shalom. That is the life of Christ."
Dr. Yared asked for us to pray for God to send the right people to them (servants, not employees), and to pray for quality in all they do. He asked for prayer for sustainability in all they do and a new training center, to give their staff a common place to share.
He also urged us to focus on God's will in our lives and to serve him by serving those in need, which are God's priority.
"He will bless you indeed with a joy and peace that the world can't give you," he said with his quiet confidence.
Following Dr. Yared's presentation, Lana informed him that the interest and support for LIA goes beyond that which is now in their office. Many people supported us on this trip through fundraisers, gifts, childcare, time off work and prayer. Many others support the organization itself in their own way.
"It's a much bigger thing than this group of people," she told him.
"I know," he responded. "Thank you."
Macchiatos and Merkato
After meeting with Dr. Yared, our team went downstairs to the building's ground floor, which is known as Cafe Chocolata. We were able to have our first cups of the famous macchiatos, which those who made last year's trip talk about as much as Gette's cooking. We now understand their enthusiasm. This was a cool experience for us coffee lovers — enjoying coffee in the birthplace of coffee.
Following lunch back at our bungalows, we were driven to the area we'd just heard so much about — Merkato. Merkato is the largest outdoor Market in Africa if not the largest in the world. For those of us who felt a sensory overload after seeing the streets of Addis for the first time, Merkato only challenged us more. It's 10 times more traffic, people and merchants existing in a more dense fashion. We witnessed many miracles in Merkato — they occur often in the form of a person, animal or vehicle not being hit by another vehicle. Drivers here don't wait their turn to drive, they compete for their turn to drive — and people, animals and those driving seem to care very little if a bus is passing them with two inches to spare.
Then there is the endless sea of merchants. One store will sell tires, while the one next to it is filled with wrenches. Another may sell appliances.
"If someone commits a theft and takes something, you come here to buy it again," Debelle quipped, sitting near the front of our bus.
An oasis of hope in a desert of despair
Soon after taking a right turn down an alley, we see an incredible view of a valley of slums. This is the heart of Merkato. Our bus then stops on the cobblestone path we're on. One by one we step off the bus and are greeted by a swarm of young children. They smile, giggle and stick out their hand to shake yours. "What is your name?" they each ask. Once you think you've hugged each of them and shaken all their hands, a few more run up to you. It is a heartwarming, humbling experience. The only things they know about us are that we're different than them, and we're here for a special reason.
That special reason is behind a rusted metal door. It is the Merkato Street Children project. We walk into the living room-size open air courtyard and meet Dereje, director of the project. If Barack Obama were of Ethiopian descent, he would look like Dereje. He is another soft-spoken man, who often flashes a closed-mouth smile that leads you to believe he knows something you don't — and you should trust him.
We sit on wooden benches and he and Debelle take turns explaining the work of the project in more detail than Dr. Yared. Dereje and his staff work with 50 hardcore boys and 150 at-risk youth and their families.
"If we empower the family, that is a way of protecting against street life," he said.
Many of the hardcore street boys rejoin their families after they move through the project.
That is a great success for us," Dereje added. "A privilege."
A highlight of this visit was through a tiny door near the back of the room.
On the other side was a class of more than 20 seventh and eighth graders sitting shoulder to shoulder and shoulder to wall. The light near the front of the small room revealed an English lesson on a large chalkboard. It's the room's only light. Each of these children — both boys and girls — are off the streets because of LIA. They are in school because of LIA. As our team members took turns entering the classroom, their teacher asked us what we do for a living and if it is what we envisioned ourselves doing when we were younger. This was their idea of success. Those of us who's original interests at least somewhat lined up with our current vocation were given a round of applause by the room of students. Another humbling experience. They've overcome much more in their lives than we did at their age too get where they are today. We couldn't help but return the applause.
In this room we met self-proclaimed future doctors and engineers.
In this room we discovered the future of Ethiopia.
Debelle, a project director for LIA, and a bus driver showed up to our main bungalow. After walking through the front door, Debelle (pronounced Double A) was greeted with shouts of joy from the six people who made the trip in October. It was an exciting reunion for the rest of us to witness because it gave us a glimpse of the relationships w'ell be making, too, while in Addis. Debelle, who some of us are guessing is in his mid 40s, can easily switch from lighthearted laughter to inspiring insight. He often answers questions with, "It is possible."
Our team boarded our bus and left our compound for LIA's headquarters (after an amazing breakfast by Gette, of course). Everything on the other side of our gate was eye-opening. We had missed a lot by arriving in the dark of night. There was much for our eyes to take in: beautiful young children wearing tattered clothes, worn shoes and a huge smile on their faces; elderly people laying near the street; donkeys, goats and dogs randomly walking . . . everywhere; small businesses stacked like a metal decks of cards and packed along nearly every stretch of road; the vibrant colors on clothes and on store fronts fighting with the dirt and mud for attention. It's a dizzying site — mainly because it's one that most of us haven't seen before.
Amber warned us about seeing the upcoming slaughter area to our right.
"Oh, you mean the smell?" I said. "We experienced that last night coming in."
"No, just seeing it," she said.
"Because it's out in the open or something?"
"Everything here is out in the open."
We soon passed the goat market, which included small groups of goats kept by small groups of men who sell and slaughter them on mounds of dirt and rubble right off the street.
"Sometimes you'll see a goat's head just sticking out," Amber added.
Life in Abundance headquarters
We made our way to LIA's headquarters, where Dr. Yared, executive manager of LIA, gave us a PowerPoint presentation of the organization's work in Ethiopia. His soft voice competed with the traffic just outside the windows of the third floor office. Any other such slide presentation would've lost to the car horns and truck engines, but Dr. Yared, as he's known to our team, drowned out the noise with his passion for LIA's mission and work. Dr. Yared is dressed nicely and looks professional. He means business, but inspires service.
He touches on the various projects LIA has in Addis and elsewhere in Ethiopia, primarily focusing on the Merkato Street Children project. He also mentions HIV/AIDS, child nutrition and sanitation projects. Merkato, however, is where we'll be spending a lot of time again this year.
"It is a very hard area," he said. "They are quite vulnerable and they are sensitive to people. They are very needy. Because of the deep problem they're in, they can be hostile. We have to be patient with them. We are trying to work with them very wisely. We what to love them."
Like LIA's other programs, the Merkato project focuses on the poorest of the poor. It focuses on two different types of street children. At-risk children are those who live on the streets during the day doing whatever they can to make a Birr. This may mean selling trinkets or shining shoes. Once their work is done, they return home to their families. They have a place to live. Hardcore boys are those who've lived on the streets, day and night, for a period of time. They often have no contact with their families and are wrapped up in the street life.
"You'll see many kids on the streets of Ethiopia," he said, later adding that 100,000 children live on the streets of Addis. "We are trying to break that cycle."
To do this, LIA believes in helping each child "holistically" (The "w" added by LIA). Instead of giving them fish, the boys are taught to fish. The boys are rehabilitated spiritually, socially and economically. They receive education and shelter. They also receive job skill training, among other benefits.
Other inspiring portions of Dr.Yared's presentation included his explanation of LIA's focus on the importance of the role of women in changing Ethiopia. He likened them to the "software of the nation."
"When you approach a woman, you really approach our nation as a whole," he said. "Our tradition and culture are really hard on women. We believe you must work on the software first, and then you can work on the hardware."
Another moving aspect was the evidence of the Biblical foundation LIA's built it's organization on. Dr. Yared revealed through two verses how LIA's leadership has broken down passages of Scripture to their DNA and rebuilt them as their work model and mission. After reading LIA's mission statement, he shared its source.
"John 10:10 is paraphrased here," he said. "This is our vision."
While LIA works to meet the needs of the whole person through its 17 partner churches in Ethiopia, elements of faith permeate its every move.
In Jimma, where we're set to visit later in our journey, LIA's partner churches are working with 265 at-risk and hardcore children. The program phased out last year after its three years of training and mentoring.
Why three years?
"Jesus equipped his disciples for three years," he said. " We agree with his timing."
Dr. Yared also explained how many partner organizations, such as UNICEF and USAID, are impressed with LIA's model and work. One USAID worker said she sees something different in LIA as she compares it to other organizations.
"The secret is we always communicate with God," he told her. "We e-mail him."
"Keep on that e-mail," she responded.
This "e-mail" is a regular part of LIA's work. Its staff fasts and prays each Monday until 2 p.m. It also prays for 24 hours once every month.
"This office is just like an office chapel," he said. "If you are with God, he will give you insight."
While most people might find the prayer time to be unproductive, it's essential to LIA. Dr. Yared said it gives them peace when everything around them seems hopeless.
"True peace is to sleep in the midst of a crisis," he said. "That kind of peace only comes from the Lord. That's the vision of shalom. That is the life of Christ."
Dr. Yared asked for us to pray for God to send the right people to them (servants, not employees), and to pray for quality in all they do. He asked for prayer for sustainability in all they do and a new training center, to give their staff a common place to share.
He also urged us to focus on God's will in our lives and to serve him by serving those in need, which are God's priority.
"He will bless you indeed with a joy and peace that the world can't give you," he said with his quiet confidence.
Following Dr. Yared's presentation, Lana informed him that the interest and support for LIA goes beyond that which is now in their office. Many people supported us on this trip through fundraisers, gifts, childcare, time off work and prayer. Many others support the organization itself in their own way.
"It's a much bigger thing than this group of people," she told him.
"I know," he responded. "Thank you."
Macchiatos and Merkato
After meeting with Dr. Yared, our team went downstairs to the building's ground floor, which is known as Cafe Chocolata. We were able to have our first cups of the famous macchiatos, which those who made last year's trip talk about as much as Gette's cooking. We now understand their enthusiasm. This was a cool experience for us coffee lovers — enjoying coffee in the birthplace of coffee.
Following lunch back at our bungalows, we were driven to the area we'd just heard so much about — Merkato. Merkato is the largest outdoor Market in Africa if not the largest in the world. For those of us who felt a sensory overload after seeing the streets of Addis for the first time, Merkato only challenged us more. It's 10 times more traffic, people and merchants existing in a more dense fashion. We witnessed many miracles in Merkato — they occur often in the form of a person, animal or vehicle not being hit by another vehicle. Drivers here don't wait their turn to drive, they compete for their turn to drive — and people, animals and those driving seem to care very little if a bus is passing them with two inches to spare.
Then there is the endless sea of merchants. One store will sell tires, while the one next to it is filled with wrenches. Another may sell appliances.
"If someone commits a theft and takes something, you come here to buy it again," Debelle quipped, sitting near the front of our bus.
An oasis of hope in a desert of despair
Soon after taking a right turn down an alley, we see an incredible view of a valley of slums. This is the heart of Merkato. Our bus then stops on the cobblestone path we're on. One by one we step off the bus and are greeted by a swarm of young children. They smile, giggle and stick out their hand to shake yours. "What is your name?" they each ask. Once you think you've hugged each of them and shaken all their hands, a few more run up to you. It is a heartwarming, humbling experience. The only things they know about us are that we're different than them, and we're here for a special reason.
That special reason is behind a rusted metal door. It is the Merkato Street Children project. We walk into the living room-size open air courtyard and meet Dereje, director of the project. If Barack Obama were of Ethiopian descent, he would look like Dereje. He is another soft-spoken man, who often flashes a closed-mouth smile that leads you to believe he knows something you don't — and you should trust him.
We sit on wooden benches and he and Debelle take turns explaining the work of the project in more detail than Dr. Yared. Dereje and his staff work with 50 hardcore boys and 150 at-risk youth and their families.
"If we empower the family, that is a way of protecting against street life," he said.
Many of the hardcore street boys rejoin their families after they move through the project.
That is a great success for us," Dereje added. "A privilege."
A highlight of this visit was through a tiny door near the back of the room.
On the other side was a class of more than 20 seventh and eighth graders sitting shoulder to shoulder and shoulder to wall. The light near the front of the small room revealed an English lesson on a large chalkboard. It's the room's only light. Each of these children — both boys and girls — are off the streets because of LIA. They are in school because of LIA. As our team members took turns entering the classroom, their teacher asked us what we do for a living and if it is what we envisioned ourselves doing when we were younger. This was their idea of success. Those of us who's original interests at least somewhat lined up with our current vocation were given a round of applause by the room of students. Another humbling experience. They've overcome much more in their lives than we did at their age too get where they are today. We couldn't help but return the applause.
In this room we met self-proclaimed future doctors and engineers.
In this room we discovered the future of Ethiopia.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Day One - Selam (Hello)
Selam from Ethiopia!
We are here and we survived the 20 hours of flying time without incident, except for the fact our flight out of Kansas City was rescheduled, canceled and rerouted. However, we were able to get back on track and fly through Amsterdam and Sudan to Ethiopia.
We arrived in Addis Ababa at 9:30 p.m. local time, and it was 57 degrees Fahrenheit — a welcome change from the Kansas City heat.
We were greeted by a young man named Teddy, who is in school and serves with LIA, and several other guys his age who helped with luggage and drove us to our bungalows in Addis Ababa. The further we drove away from the airport, there were fewer lights to light our way. We struggled to see what Addis looked like.
Dustin, who made the trip last year, quickly pointed out one of Addis' harsh realities.
"Those bundles on the side of the street — those are people sleeping," he said.
We soon made our way to our bungalows where we were greeted by Gette, who cooked for last year's team and won them over. She's quickly doing the same thing to this team. Waiting for us, after a day of travel, was warm potato and vegetable soup and biscuits — the perfect way to end a long day. I can see why last year's team spoke so highly and often of her.
Our journey to Ethiopia is done. Now we must get some sleep to prepare for our first full day in Addis Ababa.
If you're reading this — thank you for helping us get here. Your prayers and support are our real means of transportation. Please pray that we are effective in our work and are able to serve these people in love.
We are here and we survived the 20 hours of flying time without incident, except for the fact our flight out of Kansas City was rescheduled, canceled and rerouted. However, we were able to get back on track and fly through Amsterdam and Sudan to Ethiopia.
We arrived in Addis Ababa at 9:30 p.m. local time, and it was 57 degrees Fahrenheit — a welcome change from the Kansas City heat.
We were greeted by a young man named Teddy, who is in school and serves with LIA, and several other guys his age who helped with luggage and drove us to our bungalows in Addis Ababa. The further we drove away from the airport, there were fewer lights to light our way. We struggled to see what Addis looked like.
Dustin, who made the trip last year, quickly pointed out one of Addis' harsh realities.
"Those bundles on the side of the street — those are people sleeping," he said.
We soon made our way to our bungalows where we were greeted by Gette, who cooked for last year's team and won them over. She's quickly doing the same thing to this team. Waiting for us, after a day of travel, was warm potato and vegetable soup and biscuits — the perfect way to end a long day. I can see why last year's team spoke so highly and often of her.
Our journey to Ethiopia is done. Now we must get some sleep to prepare for our first full day in Addis Ababa.
If you're reading this — thank you for helping us get here. Your prayers and support are our real means of transportation. Please pray that we are effective in our work and are able to serve these people in love.
Monday, August 2, 2010
An introduction to Ethiopia
Capital: Addis Ababa
Bordering nations: Kenya, Sudan, Djibouti and Somaliland
Language: Amharic
Currency: Birr (U.S. $1 = Birr 8.8)
84 percent of people liver in rural Ethiopia
There are 83 different languages and 200 dialects spoken
63 percent of the country is Christian
34 percent is Muslim
Ethiopia is the birthplace of coffee
Ethiopia is twice the size of Texas
Ethiopia is mentioned or referred to as Kush about 40 times in the Bible.
So why are we drawn to serve Ethiopia?
Only 38.5 percent of Ethiopians are literate
Only 52 percent of children attend primary school, and 12 percent attend secondary school
It is one of the top five poorest countries on Earth
As AIDS takes its toll, the average life expectancy is 49 years
One in 10 children die before their first birthday
One in six children die before their fifth birthday
44 percent of the population is younger than 15 years old
60 percent of children in Ethiopia have experienced stunted growth due to malnutrition
1.5 million people are infected with AIDS
There are about 4.6 million orphans in Ethiopia
Per capita, Ethiopia receives less aid than any other African country
Ethiopia's doctor to children ratio is 1 to 24,000
Four out of five people in Ethiopia live on less than $2 a day
42 percent of Ethiopians have access to safe, clean drinking water
Only 11 percent of the population has access to proper sanitation facilities
Meet the team
Sunday was a special day for our Ethiopia missions team. With one day to go before our journey, we were prayed for during both services at Cedar Ridge Christian Church. "Love God. Love People. Serve the World." That's the tag line for our church. We're all excited to be a part of something that includes all three calls to action. Below is an introduction to the 18 members of our team:
Amber Bailey
29
I work at Anthropologie and spend most of my spare time hanging out with people. I'm going on this trip because I just want to love on these people as much as possible. I'm also hoping to be able to see a few of the people who became like extended family to me after last years trip.
Nicole Bailey
I'm a 26 year old who owns my own small business doing portrait photography. For this year's trip I have the joy of experiencing Africa with my sister Amber. In scripture (Isaiah 58:5-8) it is written that true fasting is “... to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke to set the oppressed free ... to share food with the hungry, and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter — when you see the naked, to clothe him ... ”
I cannot think of a better way to break away/fast from my day-to-day life than to take part in this trip, and encourage some of my Christian brothers and sisters in Africa.
Melissa McGee
30
I'm a merchandise manager for a retail store, and in my spare time I spend time with my husband and miniature schnauzer. I enjoy gardening, crafts, dance, and just about anything creative.
One wonderful husband and one tiny dog! As well as the world's best mom, step-dad, and sister!
I would like to have a fire in my heart for God again. I think it's easy to live our lives here, and even when life is hard on a day-to-day basis, we can still eventually get comfortable/numb, and our passion for God can dwindle. I believe going to Ethiopia, serving and getting to know the local people there, and observing their faith and their lives will be a wonderful jolt of lightning to my heart. Ever since seeing the documentary "Invisible Children" a few years ago, I have been paying more attention to what is going on in Africa in general, and I have a special place in my heart for the children in Africa. I can't wait to be able to see some of them, talk with and get to know them, and let them know that they are not alone in this world, and that God loves them so much!
Dustin
I’m a 24 year-old engineer in Lenexa, KS. I spend a lot of time with the youth group and worship team at church, and like to do woodworking and other projects like that when I find spare time. My wife (Hannah) and I went to Africa last year, and by the end of our trip had convinced ourselves that there was nothing worth coming back home for, and that we should just stay in Ethiopia. I’m excited to go back and see some familiar faces, and try to give back a little this time, since last time I pretty much just absorbed the culture. My prayer request is that I would be fully engaged while in Ethiopia, and really concentrate on building meaningful relationships, and encouraging and empowering those who are serving with their lives in some of the most needy areas of the world.
Lana Davis
I am 45 in Ethiopia years and can’t wait to get back to Addis to see our Africa family. Those we met last year put a forever imprint on my heart. I am excited that Gary is getting to go this year and that we will now be able to experience Africa together. We have three children and two adorable granddaughters. My prayer is that they too will all get to experience mission work in Africa. I work part time selling cool stuff to gift shops. I enjoy traveling, hanging out with our family and my zany fun girlfriends.
Gary Davis
54
I’m an Industrial Contractor in Sales & Project Management. Love to golf, BBQ, duck and pheasant hunt.
We have three kids, Tom (30), Angie (25), Matt (21) a daughter-in-law Sandra and two precious granddaughters, Marin (5) and Stori (3-1/2).
Tom and Sandra live just south of Boston, Mass., Angie lives in Gardner, Kansas and Matt is a senior at Arizona State University.
I have wanted to do mission work for many years, but in order to raise my family, my job required me to travel, which I did so for more than 20 years. In my mid forties I was hit with some health issues that I am still fighting to this day, but because of that I have a new perspective on life. I am hopeful that God will use this brief time in Ethiopia that He through me may make a difference in someone’s life and to have faith that everyone life and fortune is held in the hands of God.
Rich Ronning
I am a child stuck in the body of a 30-year-old man. I work for a construction company that lets me play with lots of tools and big equipment. I am married to Allison and we have three amazing children. I love the game of soccer and have the pleasure of coaching for my kids. That's the only sport I'm skilled at so I "assist" with baseball and softball from time to time as well.
I'm really excited to go on this trip to Ethiopia. My wife and I have talked about going to Africa for some time, but were never in a position where that was possible. Well, the time has come. The thing that I am most excited about is the chance to experience God in a whole new way. I've grown up in a place where God isn't "needed.” We have so many distractions here that God becomes an after-thought. I'm excited to encounter a people with a faith that towers above mine and a love for God that puts mine to shame. I'm excited to work with kids who just need someone to love on them because they've been ignored and forgotten. I'm excited to work with people who have HIV and AIDS because they are in need of hugs and prayer. I'm excited to reach out to the lost because deep down they thirst for something so much more and God is preparing them for an encounter with their creator. I'm excited because God is preparing me for the same encounter.
Allison Ronning
28
I have been married for almost seven years to Rich and we have three munchkins ages almost 8, almost 7, and almost 5. I am a stay at home mom/college student finishing my bachelor's degree. Africa has been on my heart since I was pretty young and my mom went on a trip there to visit some missionary friends. I have also known about the ministry of LIA since it started and have been waiting to be able to go and see all the things God is doing through it. I couldn't be more excited about the team that God has brought together to serve and join the work in Ethiopia!
Tina Bruner
43
Job: freelance missions mobilizer.
Family: single, love kids, especially my eight nieces/nephews.
I am a late addition to the team, and extremely thankful for the opportunity to return to Ethiopia and see how God has been working through the ministry of LIA.
Kent Broddle
46
I am a SW Engineer at Garmin during the day. During my free hours, I love to hang out with family and friends and just spend time getting to know people. I’m active in several sports, but especially love softball and basketball. And KU sports are definitely a passion of mine. But my biggest passion is serving Jesus. I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior when I was 10 years old.
I am married to Tonya Broddle, now going on 24 years. We have three kids — Jared, who will attend Savannah College of Art and Design as a sophomore this fall; Sarah, who will be a senior at Olathe Northwest High School; and Rachel, who is moving up as a sophomore at Olathe Northwest High School.
I am going on this trip to offer my service to Jesus. I’m excited by the work that LIA is leading in Ethiopia and surrounding countries. When Cedar Ridge was beginning, our family had the opportunity to worship for six months with Festus and Florence Muindi and their family. We know them well and know that God is working through LIA to accomplish great things.
Peggy Beddall
I'm a 57-year-old woman who is still working out her faith with fear and trembling! God put me on this faith journey some 23 years ago and it's been an adventure since day one with this trip being another exciting opportunity to GO! with God! I've done enough jobs in my life that you could say I'm a jack-of-all trades, master of none! Administration, production, teaching, cleaning, day care provider, PTA President, soccer coach, acting and, lately, Life and Fire Safety Clown (seriously!) are some of the things I've done! What keeps me busy these days are my family, friends and church ... I lead a women's bible study group and serve on our church's worship team in the production area. I'm so grateful for my husband, Ben, and our kids, Jason, Marcia and John, who are unbelievably supportive and encouraging about my adventures and for all the friends who've prayed for and encouraged me! This is my second trip to Ethiopia (I went last October) and I can honestly say that the love of Christ compels me ... I was humbled by these beautiful and generous people who are well aware of their plight and yet wear their joy as a garment of praise to our Lord! The ministry of Life in Abundance speaks to the core of my being ... equipping the local church to meet the greatest needs of the immediate community so that Christ is known as the One who provides! It's an honor to be a part of this team! I can't wait to see what God has planned for us!
John Duma
53
I am an attorney and in my spare time I try to play handball or just work out.
My wife, Bonnie, is going to Ethiopia in September on a medical mission trip. I am going on this trip to have God shake up my reality and change me into the person he wants me to be.
Lisa Gile
28
I'm a Speech-Language Pathologist. I work full-time for KCK public schools — mostly with children with autism. During my breaks from school and on the occasional Saturday, I also work for St. Luke's South Hospital and St. Luke's HomeCare providing speech therapy to individuals who have had strokes or any sort of brain injury.
Great, supportive parents, Terry and Nancy Gile, who live in Scandia, KS, where I grew up — Yes, it is as small as it sounds! ;) My brother Michael and his wife Sarah live in Shawnee, KS.
This is my second overseas mission trip — I went to Poland last summer. About two years ago, I listened to a team share what an impact a trip to Africa made on their lives ... I sat with tears streaming down my face thinking, “Perhaps I have a heart for Africa!” I decided to let God decide if I'd go to Poland or Africa that next summer. Due to scheduling issues with work it was clear I was to go to Poland. I was open to the idea of going to Africa this summer and God kept placing people or circumstances in my life making it clear that I was supposed to go! I'm anxious to see what's in store and get a better glimpse of Him through the hearts of the people in Ethiopia. I'm humbled and honored to be a part of this team and experience!
Jeff Prince
29
I work for Garmin in the Dealer Technical Support Department. If I’m not working, I am either spending time with my wife Leanne, daughter Lainey, and puppy Bogey or playing some sport outdoors.
I enjoy hunting, fishing, golfing, long walks on the cobblestones of Ethiopia and BBQs with friends.
I went to Africa last year with the team and fell in love with the people from LIA and the boys and at risk families that we met. I love seeing what God is doing in a country that doesn’t rely on personal gain.
Laurie Hess
Fifty something
I retired from DST Technologies after 20 years on July 16. I did a variety of jobs while at DST — most recently I worked as a project manager/product consultant. In my spare time, I like to walk my dog, garden, spend time with family, cook, shop, watch movies, and volunteer.
I am married to Jerry Hess. He is my life partner, funny guy, and great cook. We have been married for 17 years. We have a blended family of three wonderful sons: Jonah - 37, Kevin - 28, and Tyler - 21. All three boys will be going to college this fall. Kevin is engaged to be married on Oct 9!
I have a strong calling to make this trip. It started out as something that sounded 'like fun' when I heard about it from Lana. (She makes everything fun.) Lana and Bonnie (Duma) told me about their incredible experience of last year's trip to Ethiopia (meeting the 'boys of Merkato' and lots of wonderful people). It sounded interesting, but I wanted to find out more about LIA. I went to the LIA dinner, heard Dr. Florence speak, reviewed their hand outs, read her book, checked out their website, and then made a decision to sign up. I feel stronger every day that this is what I should do. I do not belong to Cedar Ridge Church, but feel a strong kinship with everyone that I have met in our group. I really want to serve God and I think this is one way that I can. Can't wait!
Kelly Steinle
29
I am a speech-language pathologist at Ridgeview Elementary in Olathe, Kansas. I am so blessed to work with the students, parents and staff at Ridgeview! Outside of my job, my first priority is my family. I love being the mother of my 1-year-old son and spending time with my husband, our pets and our family and friends. My husband and I are very fortunate to have so much support in everything we do. Going on this trip means a lot to me. I look forward to using any skills and strengths that I have to help in any way possible during this trip. I'm excited to learn and grow from the cultural, social and spiritual experiences. I'm interested in acquiring a different perspective on life and being reminded of what is really important. I hope this trip and these experiences will have long-lasting positive effects that I will be able to apply to my responsibilities with my family, friends and coworkers.
Elizabeth Selders
29
I am a wife and mother of three little people: Brendan, the creative, outgoing 7 year old; Aidan, the comedian, lover-boy 5 year old and Lola, the sweet, princess 1 year old. I am a florist, photographer and college student. I enjoy running, reading, cooking, gardening, anything crafty and spending time with my family and friends.
I became interested in going to Africa because of my husband’s passion for the people of Africa. My friends who went on the Ethiopia trip last year also inspire me and I have grown to be excited through their stories and many pictures. I am thankful for this opportunity to go and very excited for what the Lord will be doing through our team and the many people we will be meeting. My heart is open for His plan.
Kevin Selders
32
I'm an editor for Ascend Media in Overland Park, Kan. In my spare time I write for Relevant magazine, enjoy music and love spending time with family and friends.
I've been married to my wife, Elizabeth, for nearly eight years. We have three hilarious children: Brendan, 7; Aidan, 5; and Lola, 15 months.
I'm going on this trip because I've had an interest in Africa since college where I met several people from various African countries. I've heard great things about Ethiopia from my sister, Katie, and friends who’ve traveled there before, and I'm very inspired by Life In Abundance's model for helping the poor. I'm also looking forward to serving in Ethiopia with both my wife and my other sister, Kelly Steinle.
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