“Medicine of the world”
I went on a run tonight. It was still light outside but the sun was quickly trading places with the moon and I was racing to beat it. The plan was to run around for a little while and get to the market before the sun was down. That way, I could get home before dark (No worries, Mom and Dad, it’s safe). I had been running for about 15 minutes when I saw 4 kids under the age of 10 huddled in the dirt with their mother. I stopped, greeted them, and asked if they wanted bread. The eldest (9) told me “no” which was the strangest answer. He pointed to his head and then to his mother. I asked, “Inatish?” “Your mother?” I looked at a little girl. She nodded her head. I asked her, “Edmish sentino?” “How old are you?” “Suhment”. “Eight” she answered. “Edmish sentino?” I looked at the youngest. “Sost.” “Three” said the 8 year old, answering for her little sister. I looked at the oldest brother and pointed to my head. “Chigger Alla?” “Is there a problem?” “Ou”. “Yes.”
The mother had pulled the blanket down and looked at me. I was kneeling with the family and waddled over to the mother. I’m not a doctor. I barely speak Amharic. I had no idea what I could do and I knew the reason the boy didn’t want bread was because he’d have come with me to get it and he wasn’t about to leave his mother. I put my hand out and prayed. I prayed for healing and blessings… in English. “Amen.” I looked up and the children smiled. “Medahalialam.” “Medicine of the world” I whispered (Medicine is their word for Savior). They nodded. This family broke me. They sat in a pile of dirt. Their clothes were ripped shirts and shorts. They were each malnourished. Yet, they smiled.
I cannot count the number of times these sorts of interactions happen. On my walk home I thought about all of the support I had to raise to get here. It was hard work, and strategically mapping out all of the details was difficult. Asking for money isn’t something I’m comfortable doing either. But, from the moment I stood at the airport gate with shaking legs, a reliable backpack, and my parents behind me, people like you have prayerfully and financially accompanied this journey. When I give to people, it’s you who’s giving. When I receive, it’s you receiving as well. I am grateful to have been sent by you and I thank you for being apart of it. P.S. I saw Berano (the “give us our daily bread” man). It was about 3 days ago and I gave him a big piece of cake and water. He had the exact same reaction as before. He kissed my hands. I kissed his hands. He cried, and I did too
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
“And let me tell you the greatest way... Love.”
“And let me tell you the greatest way... Love.”
I struggle in the things I want to say. How do you paraphrase your
life to fit in a readable manner so that other people will know the
things you see, the things you feel, and the things that matter? Life
is overwhelming and burdensome a lot of days…overwhelming in the sense
of darkness, and burdensome in that I feel heavy nearly everyday of my
life. I think of a drop of food coloring being placed in a glass of
water. In comparison, the drop is nothing in volume to the cup. Yet,
somehow it changes the appearance of the water. I pray my life
resembles a drop similar… gradually sifting through these people’s
hearts to turn their eyes upon God… to color the things we’ve turned
black.
A child ran into my arms last week. She was filthy. Her
filth began to rub off as she embraced her, what seemed to be, 5-year-
old body around my waist. A co-worker of mine pointed out that the
more she hugs her, the less filthy she will be… the filth will
eventually rub off and she will look into the eyes of a child who
ached to be loved. It was kind of a remarkable observation for me to
hear.
If I exist in my own strength, in my own love, and in my own
potential, nothing will be accomplished. I will be but a life that
was born, existed, and died… most likely forgotten by generations to
come. But, if the smallest seed from God dwells in my soul, I have
the capacity to move mountains… the ability to display Love as a
masterpiece that extends far beyond death.
I zoom out from my life and look upon the world and it appears that
nothing else matters besides the love and grace the Savior of the
world left us with over 2000 years ago.
I struggle in the things I want to say. How do you paraphrase your
life to fit in a readable manner so that other people will know the
things you see, the things you feel, and the things that matter? Life
is overwhelming and burdensome a lot of days…overwhelming in the sense
of darkness, and burdensome in that I feel heavy nearly everyday of my
life. I think of a drop of food coloring being placed in a glass of
water. In comparison, the drop is nothing in volume to the cup. Yet,
somehow it changes the appearance of the water. I pray my life
resembles a drop similar… gradually sifting through these people’s
hearts to turn their eyes upon God… to color the things we’ve turned
black.
A child ran into my arms last week. She was filthy. Her
filth began to rub off as she embraced her, what seemed to be, 5-year-
old body around my waist. A co-worker of mine pointed out that the
more she hugs her, the less filthy she will be… the filth will
eventually rub off and she will look into the eyes of a child who
ached to be loved. It was kind of a remarkable observation for me to
hear.
If I exist in my own strength, in my own love, and in my own
potential, nothing will be accomplished. I will be but a life that
was born, existed, and died… most likely forgotten by generations to
come. But, if the smallest seed from God dwells in my soul, I have
the capacity to move mountains… the ability to display Love as a
masterpiece that extends far beyond death.
I zoom out from my life and look upon the world and it appears that
nothing else matters besides the love and grace the Savior of the
world left us with over 2000 years ago.
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