There is a lot of talk that always happens in churches about being a “mature Christian.” And honestly a lot of it is a bunch of crap! The things that people usually point to as marks of “maturity” quite often have nothing to do with spiritual formation. They usually include some knowledge of the Bible with the ability to quote portions of it, and being able to have a conversation about spiritual things in which you have some new knowledge or insight to share. I hate conversations with people who define maturity this way and I get frustrated with churches that tend to facilitate this idea through their “dispensing of knowledge” approach to doing church. Just come on Sundays and hear what the master of knowledge has to say… and you will be mature! What a joke!
I think a better indication of maturity has a lot to do with how much we see ourselves as orphans adopted by God and how that plays out in this world. It has a lot to do with how we view this world and how we talk to God about it. Maybe the first mark of moving toward maturity is when a person looks at the world around them and is struck with the idea that “this is not right.” Again I want to share with you a portion of the book Adopted For Life by Russell Moore.
“The Spirit drives us to discontentedness with the status quo, and so we call out together for our Father’s attention. The Abba cry just might be the most easily misunderstood aspect of the biblical revelation of our adoption. How many of us have heard Abba described as an infant cooing out the words “Da-da” or “Papa”? This cry though, in the context of the Scriptures, is not an infantile cooing. The Abba is a scream! It’s less the sound of a baby giggling up into his father’s face, and more the sound of a child screaming “Daddy!” as his face is being ripped apart by a rabid bulldog. It is primal scream theology.”
“The Bible tells us “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence” (Hebrews 5:7) Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane is screaming to his Father for deliverance, to the point that the veins in his temples burst into drops of blood (Luke 22:39-44). That’s the Abba cry. It’s the scream of the crucified.”
“For all of the disturbing aspects of the orphanage in which we found our boys, one stands out above all the others in its horror. It was quiet. The place was filled with an eerie silence, quieter than the Library of Congress, despite the fact that there were cribs full of babies in every room. If you listened intently enough, you could hear the sound of gentle rocking – as babies rocked themselves back and forth in their beds. They didn’t cry because no one responded to their cries. So they stopped. That’s dehumanizing in its horror.”
“That’ where the Spirit is leading us, in Christ. The Holy Spirit doesn’t lead us to be the toothy, giddy caricature of a “Spirit filled” Christian. The Spirit leads us to see when we are in enemy-occupied territory, and he teaches us to rage against that machine. We’re frustrated right now when we see images of a python swallowing a pig on a nature program on television, when we see a billboard for a divorce attorney, when we hear of children swept away by a mudslide in the Third World, when we find ourselves gossiping about an acquaintance. The Spirit leads us to cry out with the rest of the universe, “O God, deliver us from this! This is not how it’s supposed to be!”
“It is through this kind of praying that we know we have “received the Spirit of adoption as sons” (Romans 8:15). Through this, “The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs” (Romans 8:16-17). Sometimes this passage confuses believers because we assume this means there’s an internal prompt, reassuring us that we’re really children of God. We assume this means a kind of peace in our hearts, a tranquility of assurance. It’s actually the opposite.”
“The Abba cry is a groan. Paul tells the church at Rome that because of the curse, “the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.” But it’s not just the creation screaming. Paul writes that “we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies” (Romans 8:26). When we recognize the groaning of the universe – and groan with it – we are confessing our own part in the curse. We recognize then, all around us, the need for a crucified Christ, and we endure suffering because we know that it is only in his shed blood and pierced flesh that the universe will be restored.”
So when is the last time you cried out to God, because you knew he would hear you and respond as a Father who deeply cares?
Love loud…risk often…hope always,
David
Showing posts with label orphans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label orphans. Show all posts
5.18.2010
5.15.2010
The Terror of Being Adopted
Many times when I am sharing the idea of the gospel with those who have not believed or received it, I use the idea of adoption. It's imagery is so perfect... (maybe that is why it's in the Bible!) But one of the facts of adoption is so profound yet rarely shared in the gospel conversation. It makes sense when we are talking about physical adoption, but we don't want to admit it when it comes to spiritual adoption. The fact is that when a child is first adopted - literally when he or she is transferred into the arms of their new mom and dad, they are usually NOT FEELING WARM AND CUDDLY FEELINGS. In fact they are probably SCARED TO DEATH! Think about it, they barely know their "mom and dad." The experiences are often times so new that all they long for are the "safe" confines of the predictable orphanage - no matter how grotesque the situation was. Reminds me of the people freed from slavery in Egypt only to whine about how they would rather return to that slavery than the face the risk that comes with freedom.
But spiritually this happens as well. When a person believes and receives Jesus Christ as Savior the spiritual adoption is complete and that person is given the "right to become the son of God." Yet this person knows very little about the nature of their new adoptive father. Nor have they experienced any "adventures" of risk and faith that their father loves to take them on. These were my thoughts when I read this portion of Adopted For Life by Russell Moore.
When Maria and I at long last received the call that the legal process was over, and we returned to Russia to pick up our new sons, we found that their transition from orphanage to family was more difficult than we had supposed. We dressed the boys in outfits our parents had bought for them. We nodded out thanks to the orphanage personnel and walked out into the sunlight, to the terror of the two boys.
They'd never seen the sun, and they'd never felt the wind. They had never heard the sound of a car door slamming or felt like they were being carried along a road at 100 miles an hour. I noticed that they were shaking and reaching back to the orphanage in the distance. I whispered to the boys, "That place is a pit! If only you knew what's waiting for you - a home with a mommy and a daddy who love you, grandparents and great-grandparents and cousins and playmates and McDonald's Happy Meals!
But all they knew was the orphanage. It was squalid, but they had no other reference point. It was home.
The fact of the matter is that many new believers are scared to death at what their new adoptive father has planned for them. No matter how bad their life was - it was their life - and it was home. But now there is a journey into the unknown. A journey where you feel your way around "by faith and not by sight." Now there is a relationship that requires trusting someone other than yourself. A thought so scary that you find yourself reaching out with your arms for your past orphanage life. It is terrifying... and yet God sees it as exciting. God knows the good things he has planned for you. He has such great stuff in store, but He requires trust (faith) to experience it. The thing with God is that the new experiences he wants to take us on NEVER END. Each of them require us to let go of our "safe life" and learn in a fresh way to trust and hold on tight. So some of you need to let go of your crappy life regardless of how "safe" it is, some of you need to get over any failures of the past and gear up for another "adventure," and some of you who are already launching way out on a new journey just need to hold on tight to God. HE IS GOOD, not safe, but GOOD. You can trust Him.
Love loud... risk often... hope always.
But spiritually this happens as well. When a person believes and receives Jesus Christ as Savior the spiritual adoption is complete and that person is given the "right to become the son of God." Yet this person knows very little about the nature of their new adoptive father. Nor have they experienced any "adventures" of risk and faith that their father loves to take them on. These were my thoughts when I read this portion of Adopted For Life by Russell Moore.
When Maria and I at long last received the call that the legal process was over, and we returned to Russia to pick up our new sons, we found that their transition from orphanage to family was more difficult than we had supposed. We dressed the boys in outfits our parents had bought for them. We nodded out thanks to the orphanage personnel and walked out into the sunlight, to the terror of the two boys.
They'd never seen the sun, and they'd never felt the wind. They had never heard the sound of a car door slamming or felt like they were being carried along a road at 100 miles an hour. I noticed that they were shaking and reaching back to the orphanage in the distance. I whispered to the boys, "That place is a pit! If only you knew what's waiting for you - a home with a mommy and a daddy who love you, grandparents and great-grandparents and cousins and playmates and McDonald's Happy Meals!
But all they knew was the orphanage. It was squalid, but they had no other reference point. It was home.
The fact of the matter is that many new believers are scared to death at what their new adoptive father has planned for them. No matter how bad their life was - it was their life - and it was home. But now there is a journey into the unknown. A journey where you feel your way around "by faith and not by sight." Now there is a relationship that requires trusting someone other than yourself. A thought so scary that you find yourself reaching out with your arms for your past orphanage life. It is terrifying... and yet God sees it as exciting. God knows the good things he has planned for you. He has such great stuff in store, but He requires trust (faith) to experience it. The thing with God is that the new experiences he wants to take us on NEVER END. Each of them require us to let go of our "safe life" and learn in a fresh way to trust and hold on tight. So some of you need to let go of your crappy life regardless of how "safe" it is, some of you need to get over any failures of the past and gear up for another "adventure," and some of you who are already launching way out on a new journey just need to hold on tight to God. HE IS GOOD, not safe, but GOOD. You can trust Him.
Love loud... risk often... hope always.
5.14.2010
The Orphan is...
The more you think through the reality of adoption, the more you come face to face with the spiritual realities of God as my adoptive Father and me as the former orphan who is now fully his child. The more we engage in fighting for the sake of the orphan, the more we get a picture of how God fights for us. When I read this part of the book Adopted For Life I was struck with this reality.
"Imagine for a moment that you're adopting a child. As you meet with the social worker in the last stage of the process, you're told that this twelve-year-old has been in and out of psychotherapy since he was three. He persists in burning things and attempting repeatedly to skin kittens alive. He "acts out sexually," the social worker says, although she doesn't really fill you in on what that means. She continues with a little family history. This boy's father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather all had histories of violence, ranging from spousal abuse to serial murder. Each of them ended life the same way, death by suicide - each found hanging from a rope of blankets in his respective prison cell.
Think for a minute. Would you want this child? If you did adopt him, wouldn't you keep your eye on him as he played with your other children? WOuld you watch him nervously as he looks at the butcher knife on the kitchen table? Would you leave the room as he watched a movie on television with your daughter, with the lights out?
Well, he's you. And he's me. That's what the gospel is telling us. Our birth father has fangs. And left to ourselves, we'll show ourselves to be as serpentine as he is." - Russell Moore
Yeah well, when I imagine myself as an orphan, I always think that I would be the good orphan, the one everyone would want. I would be likable and would probably only be in the orphanage due to some tragic set of circumstances that killed both my parents and many of my family members instantly and all that was left was me. And the first family that took me in would love me, because after all, I'm me. A great kid who got a raw deal in life and wound up an orphan. And they would love me, not so much because they are completely full of love, BUT because I am that lovable.
Yeah well, that is the lie I want to believe to deflect the truth about who I am as a spiritual orphan. The bible says that I was "dead in my sins" and that "while I was helpless... Christ died for me." I wasn't helpless because of all the unfortunate circumstances that "happened to me." I was helpless because of the choices I made. The orphan is me. BUT that's how great God is. He was never phased by my sinful heritage, my sinful choices, my deep brokenness. He moved, at great cost to himself, to secure my adoption.
"Imagine for a moment that you're adopting a child. As you meet with the social worker in the last stage of the process, you're told that this twelve-year-old has been in and out of psychotherapy since he was three. He persists in burning things and attempting repeatedly to skin kittens alive. He "acts out sexually," the social worker says, although she doesn't really fill you in on what that means. She continues with a little family history. This boy's father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather all had histories of violence, ranging from spousal abuse to serial murder. Each of them ended life the same way, death by suicide - each found hanging from a rope of blankets in his respective prison cell.
Think for a minute. Would you want this child? If you did adopt him, wouldn't you keep your eye on him as he played with your other children? WOuld you watch him nervously as he looks at the butcher knife on the kitchen table? Would you leave the room as he watched a movie on television with your daughter, with the lights out?
Well, he's you. And he's me. That's what the gospel is telling us. Our birth father has fangs. And left to ourselves, we'll show ourselves to be as serpentine as he is." - Russell Moore
Yeah well, when I imagine myself as an orphan, I always think that I would be the good orphan, the one everyone would want. I would be likable and would probably only be in the orphanage due to some tragic set of circumstances that killed both my parents and many of my family members instantly and all that was left was me. And the first family that took me in would love me, because after all, I'm me. A great kid who got a raw deal in life and wound up an orphan. And they would love me, not so much because they are completely full of love, BUT because I am that lovable.
Yeah well, that is the lie I want to believe to deflect the truth about who I am as a spiritual orphan. The bible says that I was "dead in my sins" and that "while I was helpless... Christ died for me." I wasn't helpless because of all the unfortunate circumstances that "happened to me." I was helpless because of the choices I made. The orphan is me. BUT that's how great God is. He was never phased by my sinful heritage, my sinful choices, my deep brokenness. He moved, at great cost to himself, to secure my adoption.
3.24.2009
Adoption :: Resolve
For several years Mendy and I have talked about (and around) the idea of adopting a child. But most of these conversations had the tone of “one day” or “some day” or “we’ll see what happens.” This tone began to change two years ago when I spent the night on the streets of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia with a few orphaned street kids. When one of these boys told me that his mom died when he was five and he just walked to the city where he knew he could survive, something happened deep inside me. It was a resolve to quit talking and start doing.
In January 2007, I led a series of talks at church titled The Monday After Pill, in which I simply focused on taking action on the things we all know God has asked us to do. One of these messages was from James 1 where James tells every Christ follower to DO what the Word says instead of just listening to the Word. He follows that teaching by telling us to care for widows and orphans in their distress. One month after giving this message to our spiritual community, I am face to face all night long with these orphans in Ethiopia. There was a resolve to ACT!
I have always HATED when I hear other pastors say something like, “I just love to preach the Word!” I didn’t know why this phrase bothered me so much until recently I was thinking, “I don’t think I like preaching the Word near as much as I like trying to live the Word.” What good is being more excited about telling others to follow Christ than actually following Christ myself! From this point on there was a resolution in my soul to get active about the pursuit of adoption.
For the next two years, Mendy and I prayed, planned and prepared. January 1, 2009 was our start date. We began the paperwork process, fund-raising process and intensified our search for the kids we would bring into our family.
In January 2007, I led a series of talks at church titled The Monday After Pill, in which I simply focused on taking action on the things we all know God has asked us to do. One of these messages was from James 1 where James tells every Christ follower to DO what the Word says instead of just listening to the Word. He follows that teaching by telling us to care for widows and orphans in their distress. One month after giving this message to our spiritual community, I am face to face all night long with these orphans in Ethiopia. There was a resolve to ACT!
I have always HATED when I hear other pastors say something like, “I just love to preach the Word!” I didn’t know why this phrase bothered me so much until recently I was thinking, “I don’t think I like preaching the Word near as much as I like trying to live the Word.” What good is being more excited about telling others to follow Christ than actually following Christ myself! From this point on there was a resolution in my soul to get active about the pursuit of adoption.
For the next two years, Mendy and I prayed, planned and prepared. January 1, 2009 was our start date. We began the paperwork process, fund-raising process and intensified our search for the kids we would bring into our family.
10.29.2007
Watershed Church and UCF
Today when I got to my desk I had a small package sitting on it. I opened it to find a DVD from Scott Hofert and Matt O’Neil at Watershed Church in uptown Charlotte. The video came as a thank you from them to University City Fellowship on their two year anniversary. It doesn’t seem like that long ago when we helped them launch. And I am filled with joy that we had an opportunity to play a part in getting them off the ground. Now they are a force for the kingdom of God in uptown Charlotte and I don’t know of two better people to lead a church that the uptown area needs other than Scott and Matt.
I laugh when I think of the six months that Scott spent on our staff. I laugh because we called him the “Intern.” He was the “intern” that knew more than all of us combined about what the church should be and how to make that a reality. When Scott and I would talk, I would be the one with making notes and trying to remember what he would say. Scott is one of those guys that I always look forward to hanging out with because they are always rich times. I had lunch last week with him to pick his brain about a Justice type series that I am working on for the early part of ’08.
When I think of opportunities like planting a church - really beginning a mission focused expression of the body of Christ that is set free to explode into a community- I am grateful. I am grateful for the way this changes me and us. They are thanking us (UCF) and all I can think of is thanking them for what they are leading and what they have poured into us.
So many times we miss out on these kind of opportunities because we do a quick cost-benefit analysis and we decide we don’t have time, don’t have the money, don’t have the leadership capacity to help someone or something else out. Situations where we are the strength or establishment or the mentor and we decide that we just can’t help a weaker person, a start-up group or someone in need of help. What we miss out on is the life change that would happen in us, if we would engage and give of ourselves. When we decide we just can’t we cut off the potential for life change.
We (Mendy and I, and our kids) are currently planning on adopting a child from Ethiopia. And while my heart breaks for the present conditions that this child is living in, and while I am fully aware that we will give him hope that he has never experienced, I think I am heading into this looking forward to how this child is going to change us. I can’t wait for a thank you card from a child, thanking us for changing his life. When I receive it… I will just laugh and know in my own heart that I am the one who will have been changed. Let the journey begin.
On a different note: A few things that are blowing me away right now:
1. Dave and Robin Laney (Omaha) – you HAVE TO READ what they are up to weekly
2. Mike and Amy Rodgers (Ethiopia) – simply amazed at their faithful journey and the
weekly updates on their blog
3. Creating a 3rd Space – anyone know what I am talking about
4. Our new family room (UCF’s small groups)
5. Stories from those of you who are investing in relationships and inviting them to church.
I laugh when I think of the six months that Scott spent on our staff. I laugh because we called him the “Intern.” He was the “intern” that knew more than all of us combined about what the church should be and how to make that a reality. When Scott and I would talk, I would be the one with making notes and trying to remember what he would say. Scott is one of those guys that I always look forward to hanging out with because they are always rich times. I had lunch last week with him to pick his brain about a Justice type series that I am working on for the early part of ’08.
When I think of opportunities like planting a church - really beginning a mission focused expression of the body of Christ that is set free to explode into a community- I am grateful. I am grateful for the way this changes me and us. They are thanking us (UCF) and all I can think of is thanking them for what they are leading and what they have poured into us.
So many times we miss out on these kind of opportunities because we do a quick cost-benefit analysis and we decide we don’t have time, don’t have the money, don’t have the leadership capacity to help someone or something else out. Situations where we are the strength or establishment or the mentor and we decide that we just can’t help a weaker person, a start-up group or someone in need of help. What we miss out on is the life change that would happen in us, if we would engage and give of ourselves. When we decide we just can’t we cut off the potential for life change.
We (Mendy and I, and our kids) are currently planning on adopting a child from Ethiopia. And while my heart breaks for the present conditions that this child is living in, and while I am fully aware that we will give him hope that he has never experienced, I think I am heading into this looking forward to how this child is going to change us. I can’t wait for a thank you card from a child, thanking us for changing his life. When I receive it… I will just laugh and know in my own heart that I am the one who will have been changed. Let the journey begin.
On a different note: A few things that are blowing me away right now:
1. Dave and Robin Laney (Omaha) – you HAVE TO READ what they are up to weekly
2. Mike and Amy Rodgers (Ethiopia) – simply amazed at their faithful journey and the
weekly updates on their blog
3. Creating a 3rd Space – anyone know what I am talking about
4. Our new family room (UCF’s small groups)
5. Stories from those of you who are investing in relationships and inviting them to church.
8.31.2007
A "Dangerous" Church
I remember a conversation I had with someone who had been to UCF a few months and wanted to know a little more. At the end of our conversation he called us a "dangerous church." Dangerous in the sense that our desire to follow Christ takes on a barbaric, unconventional, sometimes inappropriate expression - but it IS unmistakably following Christ. Dangerous in that we are not bound by the usual thinking of most churches, dangerous because we are focused on the world, dangerous because we are clear in our focus, and dangerous because we don't seem to take the same path as most new suburban churches.
I think one of the things that makes us dangerous is the responsiveness of UCF as a community.
-A few weeks ago we received all the commitments necessary to provide 25% of the funds necessary for Mike and Amy Rodgers (missionaries to Ethiopia). Initially we committed to 17% of their support (which we raised in one day in Feb.). But two months ago we realized they were running short on their full support and needed to get on the ground in Ethiopia in August to begin language training. We committed to picking up another 8% of their support. You guys have stepped up in huge ways to make sure the mission of Christ is fully funded and fully resourced. Thanks for being responsive to this need.
-A few weeks ago, I talked with Rich Garretson who is leading our Habitat for Humanity work here in our community. He told me that over the last two weeks he has been overwhelmed with the number of people who have signed up for Sept 8th and Sept 15th. We have all we need, but he isn't going to turn anyone away. Thanks for being responsive to a simple opportunity to serve people in our backyard.
-We are approaching the 4 year mark of feeding our homeless friends every Saturday in uptown Charlotte. And we aren’t talking about 20 or 30, we are talking about over 100 each week. And it isn’t only about feeding people, it is about using a meal to build relationships with friends… friends who happen to not have a house.
-8 months ago, I knew I couldn’t ignore God’s directions to care for orphans. It started in James 1, but spread to the other parts of the bible. It began in my heart and mind but was exploded in my face on the streets of Ethiopia. In the last few months God has led several to begin the adoption process, we have a passionate point leader (Ron Smith) making plans, we held our first adoption workshop led by Aimee Pfitzner with 16 families represented who are open to what God has for them regarding the orphans of the world, and we have begun a plan to help fund adoptions for years to come which has over $30,000 in it at this point.
-on top of this is 8 houses built in Mexico, a family service every week like KIDSTUF, middle school and high school communities that are thriving, and a growing focus on changing lives one on one.
These things have left me thinking about who we are as a church. "Dangerous" is a good word. We respond to God, we respond to our world, we respond to our community and we respond to people! We engage what God puts before us and we make it happen. I talk many times with people who wonder how a church our size loves people this much. I mean we don't have a thousand people knocking these things out. The fact of the matter is those churches that do have a thousand people usually only have about 20-30% of the people actually loving people around them. I'm not sure but I think we probably have at least 75% of the people doing something to express God's love in our world. I wonder what a church that has 100% of people loving others looks like.
Note: At this point some of you are saying, "wait a minute, what do you mean by love people that much." All people love, all churches love... right! Well, love is measured by action not by words. People and churches can say they love people, but love is a verb! Love is responsive, love is active, love changes people, love changes the world around us. I love the way you guys love. Thanks for loving!
I think one of the things that makes us dangerous is the responsiveness of UCF as a community.
-A few weeks ago we received all the commitments necessary to provide 25% of the funds necessary for Mike and Amy Rodgers (missionaries to Ethiopia). Initially we committed to 17% of their support (which we raised in one day in Feb.). But two months ago we realized they were running short on their full support and needed to get on the ground in Ethiopia in August to begin language training. We committed to picking up another 8% of their support. You guys have stepped up in huge ways to make sure the mission of Christ is fully funded and fully resourced. Thanks for being responsive to this need.
-A few weeks ago, I talked with Rich Garretson who is leading our Habitat for Humanity work here in our community. He told me that over the last two weeks he has been overwhelmed with the number of people who have signed up for Sept 8th and Sept 15th. We have all we need, but he isn't going to turn anyone away. Thanks for being responsive to a simple opportunity to serve people in our backyard.
-We are approaching the 4 year mark of feeding our homeless friends every Saturday in uptown Charlotte. And we aren’t talking about 20 or 30, we are talking about over 100 each week. And it isn’t only about feeding people, it is about using a meal to build relationships with friends… friends who happen to not have a house.
-8 months ago, I knew I couldn’t ignore God’s directions to care for orphans. It started in James 1, but spread to the other parts of the bible. It began in my heart and mind but was exploded in my face on the streets of Ethiopia. In the last few months God has led several to begin the adoption process, we have a passionate point leader (Ron Smith) making plans, we held our first adoption workshop led by Aimee Pfitzner with 16 families represented who are open to what God has for them regarding the orphans of the world, and we have begun a plan to help fund adoptions for years to come which has over $30,000 in it at this point.
-on top of this is 8 houses built in Mexico, a family service every week like KIDSTUF, middle school and high school communities that are thriving, and a growing focus on changing lives one on one.
These things have left me thinking about who we are as a church. "Dangerous" is a good word. We respond to God, we respond to our world, we respond to our community and we respond to people! We engage what God puts before us and we make it happen. I talk many times with people who wonder how a church our size loves people this much. I mean we don't have a thousand people knocking these things out. The fact of the matter is those churches that do have a thousand people usually only have about 20-30% of the people actually loving people around them. I'm not sure but I think we probably have at least 75% of the people doing something to express God's love in our world. I wonder what a church that has 100% of people loving others looks like.
Note: At this point some of you are saying, "wait a minute, what do you mean by love people that much." All people love, all churches love... right! Well, love is measured by action not by words. People and churches can say they love people, but love is a verb! Love is responsive, love is active, love changes people, love changes the world around us. I love the way you guys love. Thanks for loving!
8.23.2007
a Night on the Street in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia - part 6
ethiopia journal - feb 19 part 6
"stone cold"
At first we all sat with our backs against the wall. Soon the boy who wasn’t feeling so well curled up on the ground. Ephraim covered him up with a light blanket that he had. The taller boy curled up next to him and the other boy stayed against the wall. Within five minutes of us sitting down all three boys were sound asleep. The boy against the wall didn’t seem very comfortable so I helped him lay down.
It was sad to me that these boys fell asleep so quickly. To me it meant that they were comfortable with their surroundings, they were used to the dirt, they were used to the hard ground, they were used to curling up and supporting their heads without a pillow, they were used to the cold, they were used to the smell, they were used to the fear of the unknown, they were used to being completely vulnerable, they were used to being exposed to the elements, they were used to not having a mom and dad tuck them in, they were used to being alone. I was overwhelmed with sadness as I looked at these boys resting. It was at this moment that I had another one of those REAL but very UNREAL moments. I couldn’t believe that we were sitting there with three homeless boys who were sleeping. I couldn’t believe that there were boys 8, 9 and 12 who lived like this and yet there was absolutely no denying it. They were lying all around me. I could hear their breaths. I could reach out and touch them.
It was true that even though we were there with them, we would never fully identify with them. Maybe they had no fear because this was all they knew. Part of my fear was the fact that I have a lot to lose if something happened to me. I have a wife and four kids to care for and a spiritual community to lead. On top of that I am a very wealthy person in this setting. These boys have nothing, why would anyone even bother them – even if they died would anyone even notice?
Soon I decided to settle in and try to sleep. I laid down on my back with one boy a few feet to my left, two others a few feet to my right and Andrew and Ephraim close by. I didn’t want to look at what I was going to lay on. I put my head on the stone riser and my feet rested against the other stone riser. I stared at the sky and wondered what kind of world we live in that tolerates and allows this kind of existence. It was sad but somehow I felt good just trying to identify with what these boys experience every night.
One of the boys was obviously cold so Andrew took off his sweatshirt and laid it over the little boy. That left Andrew with only a t-shirt on. One thing we had not taken into account was how cold it was. I think I went to sleep for a few minutes but soon I woke up because I was so cold. My back and my neck were freezing cold and I had to get off the ground. I laid there for a few more minutes, looked over at Andrew who was wide awake, and got up and sat on the wall. I tried everything to stay warm, but it didn’t work very well. I wondered how tired I would have to be to actually fall asleep like these boys. Throughout the night I tried several times to lay down and sleep but simply couldn’t. Ephraim seemed to be sleeping, but Andrew and I were in for a long night.
We ended up talking about the whole experience together – our thoughts and our feelings about the night so far. I started doing push ups to try to warm up and after several sets it started to work. I began to do those over and over again when I would get cold. Andrew and I were trying to guess what time it was because the night seemed endless. We guessed that it had to be close to 6 am, but found out later that it was probably just 3:30 or 4:00. The long night intensified in my mind the struggle that these boys face every day. It made me sick that they were so comfortable with their circumstances. I could only imagine the fear, anxiety and trauma that would happen if one of my children had to live for one night like these boys live every night.
"stone cold"
At first we all sat with our backs against the wall. Soon the boy who wasn’t feeling so well curled up on the ground. Ephraim covered him up with a light blanket that he had. The taller boy curled up next to him and the other boy stayed against the wall. Within five minutes of us sitting down all three boys were sound asleep. The boy against the wall didn’t seem very comfortable so I helped him lay down.
It was sad to me that these boys fell asleep so quickly. To me it meant that they were comfortable with their surroundings, they were used to the dirt, they were used to the hard ground, they were used to curling up and supporting their heads without a pillow, they were used to the cold, they were used to the smell, they were used to the fear of the unknown, they were used to being completely vulnerable, they were used to being exposed to the elements, they were used to not having a mom and dad tuck them in, they were used to being alone. I was overwhelmed with sadness as I looked at these boys resting. It was at this moment that I had another one of those REAL but very UNREAL moments. I couldn’t believe that we were sitting there with three homeless boys who were sleeping. I couldn’t believe that there were boys 8, 9 and 12 who lived like this and yet there was absolutely no denying it. They were lying all around me. I could hear their breaths. I could reach out and touch them.
It was true that even though we were there with them, we would never fully identify with them. Maybe they had no fear because this was all they knew. Part of my fear was the fact that I have a lot to lose if something happened to me. I have a wife and four kids to care for and a spiritual community to lead. On top of that I am a very wealthy person in this setting. These boys have nothing, why would anyone even bother them – even if they died would anyone even notice?
Soon I decided to settle in and try to sleep. I laid down on my back with one boy a few feet to my left, two others a few feet to my right and Andrew and Ephraim close by. I didn’t want to look at what I was going to lay on. I put my head on the stone riser and my feet rested against the other stone riser. I stared at the sky and wondered what kind of world we live in that tolerates and allows this kind of existence. It was sad but somehow I felt good just trying to identify with what these boys experience every night.
One of the boys was obviously cold so Andrew took off his sweatshirt and laid it over the little boy. That left Andrew with only a t-shirt on. One thing we had not taken into account was how cold it was. I think I went to sleep for a few minutes but soon I woke up because I was so cold. My back and my neck were freezing cold and I had to get off the ground. I laid there for a few more minutes, looked over at Andrew who was wide awake, and got up and sat on the wall. I tried everything to stay warm, but it didn’t work very well. I wondered how tired I would have to be to actually fall asleep like these boys. Throughout the night I tried several times to lay down and sleep but simply couldn’t. Ephraim seemed to be sleeping, but Andrew and I were in for a long night.
We ended up talking about the whole experience together – our thoughts and our feelings about the night so far. I started doing push ups to try to warm up and after several sets it started to work. I began to do those over and over again when I would get cold. Andrew and I were trying to guess what time it was because the night seemed endless. We guessed that it had to be close to 6 am, but found out later that it was probably just 3:30 or 4:00. The long night intensified in my mind the struggle that these boys face every day. It made me sick that they were so comfortable with their circumstances. I could only imagine the fear, anxiety and trauma that would happen if one of my children had to live for one night like these boys live every night.
6.10.2007
A Night on the Street in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia - part 5
ethiopia journal – feb 19 part 5
“meskel square”
After what seemed to be about an hour we left Ephraim’s house and walked up the stone pathway toward the street. Two of the boys stopped to pee. This happened several more times. Ephraim said that all the street kids have very small stomachs and bladders because they simply don’t get that much to eat. Each of them stopped to pee two or three times in the next 30 minutes.
We decided, or I should say Ephraim decided that we should try to sleep at Meskel Square, a large open gathering place that was a few miles away. We began walking. The boy who didn’t feel good was very tired and I felt like I should have carried him, but I didn’t know how far I would have been able to. The other two boys got on each side of him and put their arms around him and his around them. It was then that I noticed that he didn’t have any shoes on at all. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t notice it before. The reason I noticed it now was that the oldest boy was taking off his sandals and putting them on the sick boys feet. It was another real/unreal moment. One that stunned me by the need present but also by the incredible care they had for each other.
Walking on each side of him, the two boys propped him up between them. A few minutes later I heard the two boys laughing and then a few minutes later they laughed again. I asked them what they were laughing at. They told us that the boy in the middle was falling asleep while he was walking. It was funny to them and a little to me – but overall my feeling was sadness. Sadness that this boy had no mom or dad to care for him – sadness that the boy had no bed to sleep in – sadness that suffering like this exists every night – sadness that I was actually one of the reasons he wasn’t laying down right now asleep already.
We walked a long way stepping over dry and not so dry puddles of urine. Most of which were two or three yards away from a person lying on the sidewalk completely covered with a blanket.
Soon we passed a woman standing alone on the corner. I didn’t see her face, but the setting told me everything I needed to know. Ephraim confirmed that she was a prostitute, one of the thousands upon thousands in Addis Ababa. We walked by her before she knew we were even close by. I didn’t turn back to look at her – I didn’t want to see her face or her pain – that is for another time. We continued our journey walking down the street and soon passed a few men selling little things (at 1:30 am???). They bothered us for a second and then we walked on. As I was leaving these men I turned to look forward and I glanced down to my left. Sitting in the window sill a few feet from me was a girl maybe 17 or 18. She was a girl probably trapped in prostitution with these men. She looked up at me and I was forced to see her sadness. She had a beautiful face and beautiful eyes, but the saddest most stoic look – a look of hopelessness. It is a look that I feel like I had avoided, but one that God wanted me to see… and feel. It is a look that I will not soon forget – a look of pain. She said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes to me.
Several blocks later we again attracted some attention, but of a different kind. We obviously passed a house of prostitution and after we passed, two girls came running down the street after us. They both called out for us in a brash, sickeningly-sweet tone that almost mocked at us. I could only imagine what they were saying. I didn’t look back and maybe I started walking a little faster. After a few minutes they finally listened to Ephraim and gave up their pursuits – their hope for the night of making money. It was a sickening experience, but very brief.
After a while we arrived at the meskel square. It was a huge open area with about 10 lanes of roads, an open courtyard and some kind of stadium type steps or rows. Each step was about five feet deep and was formed by a rise of concrete and then dirt. Climbing each step felt a lot like stepping over railroad tracks. The whole place seemed empty, but it is a huge place dimly lit. The area is probably 400 yards long and several football fields wide. We decided to climb to the top to settle in along the tree line. I didn’t see anyone around, which surprised me a little because during the day this area is packed with street kids.
We walked to the top and began to settle in quickly.
“meskel square”
After what seemed to be about an hour we left Ephraim’s house and walked up the stone pathway toward the street. Two of the boys stopped to pee. This happened several more times. Ephraim said that all the street kids have very small stomachs and bladders because they simply don’t get that much to eat. Each of them stopped to pee two or three times in the next 30 minutes.
We decided, or I should say Ephraim decided that we should try to sleep at Meskel Square, a large open gathering place that was a few miles away. We began walking. The boy who didn’t feel good was very tired and I felt like I should have carried him, but I didn’t know how far I would have been able to. The other two boys got on each side of him and put their arms around him and his around them. It was then that I noticed that he didn’t have any shoes on at all. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t notice it before. The reason I noticed it now was that the oldest boy was taking off his sandals and putting them on the sick boys feet. It was another real/unreal moment. One that stunned me by the need present but also by the incredible care they had for each other.
Walking on each side of him, the two boys propped him up between them. A few minutes later I heard the two boys laughing and then a few minutes later they laughed again. I asked them what they were laughing at. They told us that the boy in the middle was falling asleep while he was walking. It was funny to them and a little to me – but overall my feeling was sadness. Sadness that this boy had no mom or dad to care for him – sadness that the boy had no bed to sleep in – sadness that suffering like this exists every night – sadness that I was actually one of the reasons he wasn’t laying down right now asleep already.
We walked a long way stepping over dry and not so dry puddles of urine. Most of which were two or three yards away from a person lying on the sidewalk completely covered with a blanket.
Soon we passed a woman standing alone on the corner. I didn’t see her face, but the setting told me everything I needed to know. Ephraim confirmed that she was a prostitute, one of the thousands upon thousands in Addis Ababa. We walked by her before she knew we were even close by. I didn’t turn back to look at her – I didn’t want to see her face or her pain – that is for another time. We continued our journey walking down the street and soon passed a few men selling little things (at 1:30 am???). They bothered us for a second and then we walked on. As I was leaving these men I turned to look forward and I glanced down to my left. Sitting in the window sill a few feet from me was a girl maybe 17 or 18. She was a girl probably trapped in prostitution with these men. She looked up at me and I was forced to see her sadness. She had a beautiful face and beautiful eyes, but the saddest most stoic look – a look of hopelessness. It is a look that I feel like I had avoided, but one that God wanted me to see… and feel. It is a look that I will not soon forget – a look of pain. She said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes to me.
Several blocks later we again attracted some attention, but of a different kind. We obviously passed a house of prostitution and after we passed, two girls came running down the street after us. They both called out for us in a brash, sickeningly-sweet tone that almost mocked at us. I could only imagine what they were saying. I didn’t look back and maybe I started walking a little faster. After a few minutes they finally listened to Ephraim and gave up their pursuits – their hope for the night of making money. It was a sickening experience, but very brief.
After a while we arrived at the meskel square. It was a huge open area with about 10 lanes of roads, an open courtyard and some kind of stadium type steps or rows. Each step was about five feet deep and was formed by a rise of concrete and then dirt. Climbing each step felt a lot like stepping over railroad tracks. The whole place seemed empty, but it is a huge place dimly lit. The area is probably 400 yards long and several football fields wide. We decided to climb to the top to settle in along the tree line. I didn’t see anyone around, which surprised me a little because during the day this area is packed with street kids.
We walked to the top and began to settle in quickly.
6.08.2007
A Night on the Street in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia - part 4
"epraim's house ... and hope"
ethiopia journal - feb 19 part 4
As we left the first group, one of the guys who was following us earlier got up and followed us again but he soon gave up interest. However, we did attract the attention of another man who happily followed us. After walking a couple of miles through the streets, we arrived at Ephraim’s living place. (I call it a living place because if I called it a house everyone reading this would have some preconceived idea about what it looked like. And your idea would be much bigger and more spacious that this place.) No one followed us as we entered Ephraim’s “house.” As we entered we woke up his sister who already thought we were crazy.
Ephraim asked if the boys were hungry – they all said they had not eaten since the morning – leftovers from a restaurant. Ephraim got out a big bowl of leftover pourage – something like oatmeal. He set it on the table with three spoons. At that moment, another amazing thing happened. None of the boys began eating and one of the boys offered the bowl to Andrew and I. I can’t describe the feelings I had. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to me. It amazed me that they were able to place us in front of their hunger – it was priceless. We quickly refused and the boys began to dig in. They all ate quietly and we asked on of them how long he had been on the streets and what happened to his parents. He told us (through Ephraim’s translation) that he grew up in the countryside. He said his mom died when he was about 5 years old and he decided he needed to go to the city, so he began walking to the city. Just listening to him was hard to take – as Ephraim translated his words I couldn’t help but cry. I simply can’t fathom the thought process of a five year old deciding to travel to a city of 5 million people to live on the streets. My thoughts went to my own son Jacob and the fact that I can’t imagine him having to make any kind of decision like that. My stomach ached for this boy. He never mentioned his dad and we didn’t ask. There was already enough sadness in the room.
I am trying again to describe a feeling that I have no words for – surreal or “real/unreal” is maybe the best. Everything in my mind says that there is no way that this happens in this world… there is no way that 5 year-old boys make those kind of decisions… there is no way that 3 boys band together to survive in a city of 5 million people… there is no way that the boys are eating at a strangers house at 1:00 am and no one cares that they aren’t at home… no one is calling for them, searching for them or wondering where they are. It has to be an unreal dream… a nightmare… NOT REALITY! And yet I know that I am alive and awake and experiencing this REALITY. I can smell the boys. I can hear the rattle of their spoons against the tin bowl. I can see their black skin with an ash white covering because it is dried out. I can see their eyes and hear their voices. I know that they are real boys… with real feelings… with real hunger… with real need… with real pain… AND with real LOVE for each other.
Half way through eating I could tell that one of the boys didn’t look good at all. I asked Ephraim to ask about him. The other boys said that he had a sore throat and a fever and hasn’t been feeling well all day. For whatever reason I hadn’t noticed other than the fact that he was the one who fell asleep earlier. I was amazed at the care the other two boys had for this boy. Ephraim gave him some Tylenol.
(By the way, Ephraim’s house is a 12X12 room with a small bench that the boys sat on, a small table that they ate off of, a large cabinet, a small fridge, a bookshelf and a very narrow bed. A ladder goes straight up to another room the same size. Very humble yet livable.)
The sick boy took the medicine and they all drank a lot of water. Quickly the sick boy quit eating and the tallest boy put his arm around him and began to make him eat a little bit more by feeding him. He did this over and over until the boy fell asleep sitting up. When he fell asleep the tallest boy propped the boys head up with his arm so that his head wouldn’t fall over and wake himself up.
We asked the other boy (the one who left home at 5) if he thought he would be on the street his whole life. He quickly answered Ephraim and Ephraim told us he said “no – that he did have some hope. Hope that one day he could get some help from a NGO (non-government organization) and this would get him a home and some education.” Again it is amazing that hope endures in this boy. But you could see it in his eyes and all over his face (he is the boy on the right in the picture of “displacement 2”). He really did have hope and a smile –simply amazing!
ethiopia journal - feb 19 part 4
As we left the first group, one of the guys who was following us earlier got up and followed us again but he soon gave up interest. However, we did attract the attention of another man who happily followed us. After walking a couple of miles through the streets, we arrived at Ephraim’s living place. (I call it a living place because if I called it a house everyone reading this would have some preconceived idea about what it looked like. And your idea would be much bigger and more spacious that this place.) No one followed us as we entered Ephraim’s “house.” As we entered we woke up his sister who already thought we were crazy.
Ephraim asked if the boys were hungry – they all said they had not eaten since the morning – leftovers from a restaurant. Ephraim got out a big bowl of leftover pourage – something like oatmeal. He set it on the table with three spoons. At that moment, another amazing thing happened. None of the boys began eating and one of the boys offered the bowl to Andrew and I. I can’t describe the feelings I had. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to me. It amazed me that they were able to place us in front of their hunger – it was priceless. We quickly refused and the boys began to dig in. They all ate quietly and we asked on of them how long he had been on the streets and what happened to his parents. He told us (through Ephraim’s translation) that he grew up in the countryside. He said his mom died when he was about 5 years old and he decided he needed to go to the city, so he began walking to the city. Just listening to him was hard to take – as Ephraim translated his words I couldn’t help but cry. I simply can’t fathom the thought process of a five year old deciding to travel to a city of 5 million people to live on the streets. My thoughts went to my own son Jacob and the fact that I can’t imagine him having to make any kind of decision like that. My stomach ached for this boy. He never mentioned his dad and we didn’t ask. There was already enough sadness in the room.
I am trying again to describe a feeling that I have no words for – surreal or “real/unreal” is maybe the best. Everything in my mind says that there is no way that this happens in this world… there is no way that 5 year-old boys make those kind of decisions… there is no way that 3 boys band together to survive in a city of 5 million people… there is no way that the boys are eating at a strangers house at 1:00 am and no one cares that they aren’t at home… no one is calling for them, searching for them or wondering where they are. It has to be an unreal dream… a nightmare… NOT REALITY! And yet I know that I am alive and awake and experiencing this REALITY. I can smell the boys. I can hear the rattle of their spoons against the tin bowl. I can see their black skin with an ash white covering because it is dried out. I can see their eyes and hear their voices. I know that they are real boys… with real feelings… with real hunger… with real need… with real pain… AND with real LOVE for each other.
Half way through eating I could tell that one of the boys didn’t look good at all. I asked Ephraim to ask about him. The other boys said that he had a sore throat and a fever and hasn’t been feeling well all day. For whatever reason I hadn’t noticed other than the fact that he was the one who fell asleep earlier. I was amazed at the care the other two boys had for this boy. Ephraim gave him some Tylenol.
(By the way, Ephraim’s house is a 12X12 room with a small bench that the boys sat on, a small table that they ate off of, a large cabinet, a small fridge, a bookshelf and a very narrow bed. A ladder goes straight up to another room the same size. Very humble yet livable.)
The sick boy took the medicine and they all drank a lot of water. Quickly the sick boy quit eating and the tallest boy put his arm around him and began to make him eat a little bit more by feeding him. He did this over and over until the boy fell asleep sitting up. When he fell asleep the tallest boy propped the boys head up with his arm so that his head wouldn’t fall over and wake himself up.
We asked the other boy (the one who left home at 5) if he thought he would be on the street his whole life. He quickly answered Ephraim and Ephraim told us he said “no – that he did have some hope. Hope that one day he could get some help from a NGO (non-government organization) and this would get him a home and some education.” Again it is amazing that hope endures in this boy. But you could see it in his eyes and all over his face (he is the boy on the right in the picture of “displacement 2”). He really did have hope and a smile –simply amazing!
6.02.2007
A Night on the Street in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia - part 3
"No place to lay my head"
ethiopia journal, feb 19 part 3
As Andrew and I began to sit down, a boy who was probably 14 or 15 jumped up and gave me a piece of the cardboard he was sitting on, so that I didn’t have to sit on the dirt. He gave the other piece he had to Andrew, which left him with nothing left to sit on. It left me in awe! This little gesture was so amazing to me. The thought process that had to go through this boys mind that said I will give whatever I have to make a stranger just a little more comfortable – even if it means going without. As I looked around I realized that this was a place that several people stayed not only at night but during the day as well. There was trash, paper and junk everywhere, so having something to sit on was something of value. I felt bad about taking the cardboard, but it was one of those situations where I didn’t feel like I could reject it. I took the cardboard and sat down on it.
One of the men had a little fire going and he had made some sort of tea, which he quickly offered to us. This man seemed to be the voice for the group. We quickly refused the tea with thankfulness. It really did amaze me that within thirty seconds of approaching the group we had been offered cardboard and something to drink. The generosity of those that have so little was stunning to me and I started to think that this place might not be so bad to spend the night in.
It was now that I finally got a good look at the three boys who were with us. The oldest had a red hooded sweatshirt on and was much taller than the other two. His face was plain and stoic, but he didn’t seem sad. The second boy was animated. You could tell that he thought it was cool to be on a different kind of adventure with Ephraim, Andrew and me. The third boy didn’t look very good and as they sat down he quickly laid down. The next time I glanced over he had laid his head in the lap of the second boy, and the second boy was patting his head as he slept. It was amazing care for each other. I was stunned by the heart he had for his friend.
After being offered some chote (the local drug of choice) the conversation began to get louder and I could tell something wasn’t right. The main leader and Ephraim were talking and it seemed a little tense – but everything seems a little tense when you are displacing yourself. Long story short, the spokesman for the group seemed to want us to leave. The conversation died down a bit, but then two of the guys who had been following us both sat down separately with the group. Soon two more guys who seemed to be a part of the regular group sat down and began talking. The spokesman then said that he did not want us here because we were there to laugh at them. Ephraim assured them that this was not our intention, which worked for a while but then the talking began to get really tense. I think the idea of two foreigners (who have almost a god-like status in Ethiopia – or at least a rock star status) actually wanting to experience what these boys experience was something that was impossible for them to grasp. Our presence with them just made them very uncomfortable. They kept questioning “why and would not accept any of our answers. Finally the two that joined the group late said that we might actually be putting them in danger by staying with them because others around might not like that we are there and treat them badly because we were with them. Finally we decided to leave. As I got up to leave I really wanted to keep the piece of cardboard that had been given to me so that I could remember the night and this incredibly kind gift. But I could never actually walk away – keeping something that the boy would use. I gave him both pieces of cardboard and thanked him.
At that time Ephraim decided that we needed to go to his house so that anyone following us would leave us alone. After a while we would then look for another place to sleep. The second boy woke the third boy up from his sleep and the six of us began traveling to Ephraim’s house.
ethiopia journal, feb 19 part 3
As Andrew and I began to sit down, a boy who was probably 14 or 15 jumped up and gave me a piece of the cardboard he was sitting on, so that I didn’t have to sit on the dirt. He gave the other piece he had to Andrew, which left him with nothing left to sit on. It left me in awe! This little gesture was so amazing to me. The thought process that had to go through this boys mind that said I will give whatever I have to make a stranger just a little more comfortable – even if it means going without. As I looked around I realized that this was a place that several people stayed not only at night but during the day as well. There was trash, paper and junk everywhere, so having something to sit on was something of value. I felt bad about taking the cardboard, but it was one of those situations where I didn’t feel like I could reject it. I took the cardboard and sat down on it.
One of the men had a little fire going and he had made some sort of tea, which he quickly offered to us. This man seemed to be the voice for the group. We quickly refused the tea with thankfulness. It really did amaze me that within thirty seconds of approaching the group we had been offered cardboard and something to drink. The generosity of those that have so little was stunning to me and I started to think that this place might not be so bad to spend the night in.
It was now that I finally got a good look at the three boys who were with us. The oldest had a red hooded sweatshirt on and was much taller than the other two. His face was plain and stoic, but he didn’t seem sad. The second boy was animated. You could tell that he thought it was cool to be on a different kind of adventure with Ephraim, Andrew and me. The third boy didn’t look very good and as they sat down he quickly laid down. The next time I glanced over he had laid his head in the lap of the second boy, and the second boy was patting his head as he slept. It was amazing care for each other. I was stunned by the heart he had for his friend.
After being offered some chote (the local drug of choice) the conversation began to get louder and I could tell something wasn’t right. The main leader and Ephraim were talking and it seemed a little tense – but everything seems a little tense when you are displacing yourself. Long story short, the spokesman for the group seemed to want us to leave. The conversation died down a bit, but then two of the guys who had been following us both sat down separately with the group. Soon two more guys who seemed to be a part of the regular group sat down and began talking. The spokesman then said that he did not want us here because we were there to laugh at them. Ephraim assured them that this was not our intention, which worked for a while but then the talking began to get really tense. I think the idea of two foreigners (who have almost a god-like status in Ethiopia – or at least a rock star status) actually wanting to experience what these boys experience was something that was impossible for them to grasp. Our presence with them just made them very uncomfortable. They kept questioning “why and would not accept any of our answers. Finally the two that joined the group late said that we might actually be putting them in danger by staying with them because others around might not like that we are there and treat them badly because we were with them. Finally we decided to leave. As I got up to leave I really wanted to keep the piece of cardboard that had been given to me so that I could remember the night and this incredibly kind gift. But I could never actually walk away – keeping something that the boy would use. I gave him both pieces of cardboard and thanked him.
At that time Ephraim decided that we needed to go to his house so that anyone following us would leave us alone. After a while we would then look for another place to sleep. The second boy woke the third boy up from his sleep and the six of us began traveling to Ephraim’s house.
5.31.2007
A Night on the Street in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia - part 2
"three boys"
ethiopia journal – feb 19 part 2
We met at 11:00 and started walking. It didn’t take us long to start really talking about what we were going to do. Andrew (my fellow UCF adventurer) said something that I had thought a lot about. He said he was glad we were doing this but he realized that we would never really be able to identify with the street kids because we had showers, shelters and soft beds to go back to. I agreed! No amount of effort was going to allow us to fully identify with them, because it was only going to be one night, but for one night we would try.
I put on my jeans, a long sleeve shirt and a light pull over jacket. I left all my money and anything valuable at the SIM headquarters and we met Ephraim around 11:15. He said that he knew where some kids would be, so we followed him. Immediately we seemed to attract a lot of attention – one man who passed us began to turn around and follow us. Soon after he quit following us another man started following. I don’t think they were dangerous – just curious or maybe hoping to get some help from the two white guys. In hindsight, I should have worn a hooded sweatshirt (for a few reasons) that would have hidden our identity more. We walked a mile or two through the streets of Addis and suddenly three kids came running up to Ephraim.
(Ephraim –pictured in the first journal - seems to be a very trustworthy and responsible – almost too trustworthy! But he has been consistent throughout and seems to have a real heart for kids on the street. He demonstrates kind compassion and many of them know him by name. They yell to him as he walks by.)
The three boys were full of energy – at least they seemed to be. I asked their names, but all of them seemed to be too difficult to pronounce. I asked (through Ephraim) their ages and they told me 12, 8 and 9. It didn’t seem like they had a regular place to sleep, so we kept walking trying to find a place to sleep.
Just thinking of actually sleeping out on the streets almost made me vomit. Many times as we were walking on the sidewalk, I would be overwhelmed by the smell of stale urine, or the wreak of crap, or a funky combination of the two combined with a wet trash smell. I just hoped we could find a place that didn’t wreak. As we would walk I would step over puddle after puddle of urine - most of them very close to people who were sleeping on the sidewalks. We passed 100’s of people scattered along street after street. Each of them were usually covered up completely by a blanket. Some of them had some padding, but most were just lumps on the sidewalk. Several of the businesses we passed actually had night guards sitting or laying in front of them to keep everyone else away each night. It was awkward passing them in that you would think they would make you feel more secure, but in reality most of them are probably street people themselves and this is their job at night. Some of the nicer businesses actually had a small rectangular tin structure that one guard would sleep in while the other guard kept watch.
As we were trying to find a place to go to sleep, another man started following us, and then another. It wasn’t frightening at the time, just a little creepy. At some point you kind of realize that Andrew and I are some of the biggest, strongest guys around. We obviously didn’t have any weapons, but we did have some size on just about everyone around. (which is comforting because you don’t want to get into a foot race with an Ethiopian). We tried to lose these guys, but couldn’t. Finally Ephraim led us to a group of 5 or 6 street people who were huddled in a corner. It wasn’t what I had envisioned when I had the idea, but I was simply following Ephraim at this point. We asked if we could sit down and in Amharic they said that we could.
ethiopia journal – feb 19 part 2
We met at 11:00 and started walking. It didn’t take us long to start really talking about what we were going to do. Andrew (my fellow UCF adventurer) said something that I had thought a lot about. He said he was glad we were doing this but he realized that we would never really be able to identify with the street kids because we had showers, shelters and soft beds to go back to. I agreed! No amount of effort was going to allow us to fully identify with them, because it was only going to be one night, but for one night we would try.
I put on my jeans, a long sleeve shirt and a light pull over jacket. I left all my money and anything valuable at the SIM headquarters and we met Ephraim around 11:15. He said that he knew where some kids would be, so we followed him. Immediately we seemed to attract a lot of attention – one man who passed us began to turn around and follow us. Soon after he quit following us another man started following. I don’t think they were dangerous – just curious or maybe hoping to get some help from the two white guys. In hindsight, I should have worn a hooded sweatshirt (for a few reasons) that would have hidden our identity more. We walked a mile or two through the streets of Addis and suddenly three kids came running up to Ephraim.
(Ephraim –pictured in the first journal - seems to be a very trustworthy and responsible – almost too trustworthy! But he has been consistent throughout and seems to have a real heart for kids on the street. He demonstrates kind compassion and many of them know him by name. They yell to him as he walks by.)
The three boys were full of energy – at least they seemed to be. I asked their names, but all of them seemed to be too difficult to pronounce. I asked (through Ephraim) their ages and they told me 12, 8 and 9. It didn’t seem like they had a regular place to sleep, so we kept walking trying to find a place to sleep.
Just thinking of actually sleeping out on the streets almost made me vomit. Many times as we were walking on the sidewalk, I would be overwhelmed by the smell of stale urine, or the wreak of crap, or a funky combination of the two combined with a wet trash smell. I just hoped we could find a place that didn’t wreak. As we would walk I would step over puddle after puddle of urine - most of them very close to people who were sleeping on the sidewalks. We passed 100’s of people scattered along street after street. Each of them were usually covered up completely by a blanket. Some of them had some padding, but most were just lumps on the sidewalk. Several of the businesses we passed actually had night guards sitting or laying in front of them to keep everyone else away each night. It was awkward passing them in that you would think they would make you feel more secure, but in reality most of them are probably street people themselves and this is their job at night. Some of the nicer businesses actually had a small rectangular tin structure that one guard would sleep in while the other guard kept watch.
As we were trying to find a place to go to sleep, another man started following us, and then another. It wasn’t frightening at the time, just a little creepy. At some point you kind of realize that Andrew and I are some of the biggest, strongest guys around. We obviously didn’t have any weapons, but we did have some size on just about everyone around. (which is comforting because you don’t want to get into a foot race with an Ethiopian). We tried to lose these guys, but couldn’t. Finally Ephraim led us to a group of 5 or 6 street people who were huddled in a corner. It wasn’t what I had envisioned when I had the idea, but I was simply following Ephraim at this point. We asked if we could sit down and in Amharic they said that we could.
5.30.2007
A Night on the Street in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia - part 1
"What does God want from me?"
ethiopia journal – feb 19, 2007
Last night was one of the most real/unreal experiences I have ever had in my ministry or really in my life. It started with an idea I had the day after we played soccer with a few street kids. The thought was, “I wonder what their lives are really like.” I mean nothing in me can fathom kids really existing on the streets in ANY place let alone on the streets of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia – a city of 5 million people in one of the poorest countries of the world. The thought that I had was what would it be like to just spend one night on the street with just a few of these kids – to feel what they feel, think what they think, see what they see, fear what they fear, touch what they touch, lay down on what they lay down on, smell what they smell, experience what they experience and live just for one night like they live.
At first it was just a thought, but soon it became a prayer. A prayer that asked if this was what God was leading me to do. A few days ago a spent a few days praying for some friends who were in Charlotte planning to spend the night on the streets with a few of their homeless friends. So maybe it actually began with a prayer for them. I would never claim that this is the wisest thing to do nor did I really want anyone else around the SIM compound to know I was contemplating it. So was it God’s Spirit that was leading me to do this? That was my prayer.
After some prayer, I asked Andrew what he thought about the idea. Later he told me that he thought I was just kidding. On Saturday or Sunday we met a guy named Ephraim who is a 23 year old local guy who has been around the SIM (Serving In Missions) for several years. He seems to have a ministry heart and a gladness about serving. He had just finished helping a long term missionary couple, so he came highly recommended as a guide. We spent some time with Ephraim on Sunday and I asked him about my idea. He first wanted me to ask him again because he wasn’t sure he heard me right. Then he told me that he had once been a street kid when he was about 10 years old and someone at SIM had helped him out. He said he knew many of the street kids around and knew where several of them slept for the night. He was surprised at my request because no one had ever asked him anything like that before. I told him I would pray some more and we would see. On Monday I asked him if he would take us to some street kids and spend the night with us (Andrew and I). I still wasn’t sure I was going to go through with it, but I thought that this might be God’s provision of a perfect guide for us. Someone who could speak English and Amharic, someone who had experience being on the street. I told him I would pray some more and call him later.
Monday afternoon came and I felt for sure we would give it a try. When else am I going to get a chance to displace myself to be with some of the most hidden forgotten people in this world. Why would I not do this? I decided safety was the only reason not to – something that rarely holds me back. I remembered my phrase “risk often” and called Ephraim to see if he could definitely go with us. He said yes and that he would meet us around 11:30.
ethiopia journal – feb 19, 2007
Last night was one of the most real/unreal experiences I have ever had in my ministry or really in my life. It started with an idea I had the day after we played soccer with a few street kids. The thought was, “I wonder what their lives are really like.” I mean nothing in me can fathom kids really existing on the streets in ANY place let alone on the streets of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia – a city of 5 million people in one of the poorest countries of the world. The thought that I had was what would it be like to just spend one night on the street with just a few of these kids – to feel what they feel, think what they think, see what they see, fear what they fear, touch what they touch, lay down on what they lay down on, smell what they smell, experience what they experience and live just for one night like they live.
At first it was just a thought, but soon it became a prayer. A prayer that asked if this was what God was leading me to do. A few days ago a spent a few days praying for some friends who were in Charlotte planning to spend the night on the streets with a few of their homeless friends. So maybe it actually began with a prayer for them. I would never claim that this is the wisest thing to do nor did I really want anyone else around the SIM compound to know I was contemplating it. So was it God’s Spirit that was leading me to do this? That was my prayer.
After some prayer, I asked Andrew what he thought about the idea. Later he told me that he thought I was just kidding. On Saturday or Sunday we met a guy named Ephraim who is a 23 year old local guy who has been around the SIM (Serving In Missions) for several years. He seems to have a ministry heart and a gladness about serving. He had just finished helping a long term missionary couple, so he came highly recommended as a guide. We spent some time with Ephraim on Sunday and I asked him about my idea. He first wanted me to ask him again because he wasn’t sure he heard me right. Then he told me that he had once been a street kid when he was about 10 years old and someone at SIM had helped him out. He said he knew many of the street kids around and knew where several of them slept for the night. He was surprised at my request because no one had ever asked him anything like that before. I told him I would pray some more and we would see. On Monday I asked him if he would take us to some street kids and spend the night with us (Andrew and I). I still wasn’t sure I was going to go through with it, but I thought that this might be God’s provision of a perfect guide for us. Someone who could speak English and Amharic, someone who had experience being on the street. I told him I would pray some more and call him later.
Monday afternoon came and I felt for sure we would give it a try. When else am I going to get a chance to displace myself to be with some of the most hidden forgotten people in this world. Why would I not do this? I decided safety was the only reason not to – something that rarely holds me back. I remembered my phrase “risk often” and called Ephraim to see if he could definitely go with us. He said yes and that he would meet us around 11:30.
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