Calm as the Summer's Ocean...

     Throughout the trip, I read Morning & Evening by Charles Spurgeon.  On our first night in Addis, the reading was June 22 and accompanying verse was "That those things which cannot be shaken may remain" Hebrews 12:27.  Something about this verse struck a chord.  I'd been awake so long that everything was blurry, and yet this verse and this reading were clear, crystal clear.  I read this passage, then reread it and even reread it again.  It's become so marked up in different colors, but that makes it even more precious.

Two quotes became the themes of my trip. 

1. You are standing at the foot of His cross, trusting alone in the merit of Jesus' precious blood.
2. Therefore, calm as the summer's ocean, we will see the wreck of everything earthborn, yet rejoice in the God of our salvation. 

     So how did these become the theme quotes of my trip?  Well the first one is true regardless of where I am.  As Buster (ECBC Pastor) says often, we are leaky buckets and need to continually run to the cross to be filled up again and again with the grace and love of Christ.  During the trip, it felt like that was even more true.  Everyday, running to the cross and having nothing to trust in except the Cross.  I was being thrown into situations that were new and definitely out of what I would call my comfort zone.  It felt like I was being drained at an even faster rate than usual, or maybe it was simply that I was paying more attention to the draining and vast need for my Savior.  There was no way to put trust in myself but my trust had to be fully in Jesus' precious blood.

     The 2nd quote is how I feel about Korah.  Korah: a town formed on the outside of a Leper Hospital in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  The people who are a part of this town are 3rd and 4th generation living there (a lot of them anyway).  The town itself is just adjacent to the trash dump.  So this area is dirty, muddy and smells horrific - horrific in a manner that I can't even begin to describe fully.  It's one of those smells that simply won't leave though... When our bus wound around the muddy streets, it was all I could do to keep the gag reflex under control.  Mud huts and Tin walls.  Feces in the street.  When we got lost, Rachel saw Bones (I don't know what they were of...) in the street.  This place felt to me like the wreck of everything earthborn.  There was nothing in my mind that could relate to this or fully understand what we were walking into. We spent the week working with Project 61 and the kids there.  Carrie and Rachel taught English.  Emily, Alex and Heather did crafts.  Julia and Michael taught Bible lessons.  Steve and I played games.  This week was without a doubt the best week in Ethiopia.  We came together as a team and worked as a unit.  

     Together, we discovered what it truly meant to rejoice in the God of our Salvation.  These kids live (at first I wrote lived, but even though I'm not there... they still are...), on average on about $1-3 USD per month, and yet they rejoiced.  We had the opportunity to feed them lunch (if a part of the program, they are allowed as much food as they desire) and from the very start, they wanted to feed us - an Ethiopian sign of friendship.  They fed and fed and fed us until we couldn't take one more bite, yet we did anyway.  This moved me in a way that very few things have ever done.  Generosity and joy overflowed from them.  If I was in their position would those words describe me?  I keep coming back to that question... and a resounding and humbling NO comes to mind.

     On the first day Rachel, Michael and I volunteered to feed three men who suffered from Leprosy and could not feed themselves.  At first, I was apprehensive.  How do I go about feeding injera to someone else?  I can barely feed myself injera without making a complete mess.  How much shiro (chick peas) do I put in the injera?  What is the right amount of food?  These questions raced through my head.  After an awkward start, we found our rhythm.  My friend and I fumbled (ok I fumbled) through hand gestures and finally I understood that he liked a HUGE bite of injera, preferred when it was steaming hot, was okay with biting my fingers if need be so long as he got the whole bite of food, and he loved leftovers.  It worked for us.  But how humbling it was for me to feed this man everyday.  To realize that this is his life and that each and every time he wants to eat, he has to fully rely on others - unhinged me but also uplifted my spirit.  The leprosy had taken away his hands and feet.  According to PubMed Health "People with long-term leprosy may lose the use of their hands or feet due to repeated injury resulting from lack of sensation"  Despite all that he had to struggle through, a life that could easily be construed as "the wreck of everything earthborn" by typical standards, he rejoiced...  He tipped his hat to me in gratitude (as my grandfather would have done) while another one of the men sang blessings over us, daily.  They truly "rejoiced in the God of our salvation."

  Now that I'm back in America those two quotes still move me.  I hope and pray that I can remember the lessons taught to me in Korah and that I can continue to tell their story... the story of rejoicing in the God of our Salvation despite living in the wreck of everything earthborn.