Beautiful scenery on the way to Nazreth, and we even saw some camels, and of course more goats and donkeys. We had a "club sandwich" for lunch. Sally didn't eat much (any) of it.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Trip 1 - Day 3: The Road to Nazreth
Beautiful scenery on the way to Nazreth, and we even saw some camels, and of course more goats and donkeys. We had a "club sandwich" for lunch. Sally didn't eat much (any) of it.
Trip 1 - Day 3: Morning in Awassa
We woke up feeling better. Alemu was able to arrange for Donka's birth father to stay overnight in Awassa. We met him at the orphanage and he seemed very grateful that we would be taking care of his son. Communication with him was very difficult because he doesn't speak the main Ethiopian language, Amharic. Alemu was able to find a local boy to help translate for us and we would ask questions to Alemu, who would then communicate in Amharic with the boy, who would then communicate with Donka's birth father in his language - AND then back the other way with an answer back to us. And sometimes the translation would get stuck along the chain and have to go back before we got an answer. We managed to get through the interview and he was very thankful for the book we made him with pictures of Donka and some of our home.
We visited another orphanage where the other families we were traveling with each had a child and they also showed us the bed that Bethel slept in while she was there. Even though they didn't have many toys or educational tools, the children were happy and playful. We didn't stay to long before we were back on the main road heading north.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Trip 1 - Day 2: Travel to Awassa
Day 2 was pretty rough to say the least. It didn't start out too bad as we saw the beautiful African countryside. We came down out of the higher elevation of Addis and onto the central flatlands of the Great Rift Valley and we were able to see how many Ethiopians live: a simple, agrarian lifestyle with a small hut and/or mud brick building as the hub of family activity. Plenty of goats and cows wandering around (and sometimes stopping traffic in the road), most being led by a young boy with a stick. Some horses but mostly donkeys pulling carts to and from the cities usually piled high with either a harvested crop or many people (usually with water jugs).
We stopped halfway to Awassa at a nice little cafe and got machiattos and cokes. The trip was going pretty well at that point, but the jet lag, lack of sleep, new sights and smells, and 6 hour van ride through the middle of Ethiopia caught up with us as we pulled into Awassa, and Sally and I had to pull out of further expeditions to the coffee plantation and hippo viewing to get some much needed rest. Sally was actually in pretty bad shape with nausea and dizziness (and Michael too to a little lesser extent), and we actually didn't make it to our second floor room and had to take a pit stop - for a few hours - to rest and muster the energy for the trip up to the next floor. [FYI: In Ethiopia, the ground floor doesn't have a number in many of the hotels, etc, so we actually had to go up 2 flights of steps to our room on the "second" floor.]
Let me tell you, feeling that sick and being so far from home is NOT a good feeling. We prayed for strength and sleep, but also peace as worry about our situation was threatening to overwhelm us. The hammering on tin during the day the rest of the day and the dog skirmishes at night didn't help things, but our sleep aids and overall exhaustion overcame the distractions. We stayed in our room for about 18 hours or so and were able to muster up the energy - and courage - to get back in the van by the next morning.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Trip 1 - Day 1: Arrival in Addis
24 hours of travel from to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
Flights weren't too bad although money exchange was a little trickier than it needed to be.
We didn't see much of Addis our first night as we got in late, so the contents of our mini-fridge was the only "proof" of arrival we could send home.
It was an EARLY morning (time change and having to repack for the trip South didn't help) and the view from the Sadula Lodge restaurant's porch gave us our first good look at Ethiopia.
You can see a little from this picture, but Addis is a city of contrasts. Home to over 3 Million people, Addis is a large cosmopolitan city as it is not only the capital of Ethiopia, but the seat of the African National Congress and many other African aid agencies and Embassies. So there is wealth and much development, but there is also much poverty, oftentimes in the shadow of a new bank or hotel or shopping center.
And off on a 6 hour van ride south to Awassa.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Is it really here?
As I think I've said before, sometimes breaks in blogs are from inactivity and sometimes from over activity. Thankfully, this is a case of the latter.
We've been very busy packing, planning, and praying for our trip that we haven't had much time to stop and give updates.
The birth parents' court dates on November 1st went well and we are all set for our November 23rd Court appearance. Hopefully we'll be able to update more real soon - including PICTURES we will take on our trip - but unfortunately we are short on time once again.
Please pray for our safety on our trip, the kids and grandparents back home, and everything about our time in Ethiopia - meeting the agency workers, visiting Bethel's grave, meeting the birth parents, meeting our children, travel within Ethiopia, visiting with Gary & Peggy Ifft, and of course the actual Court appearance.
Thank you so much and God bless!
We've been very busy packing, planning, and praying for our trip that we haven't had much time to stop and give updates.
The birth parents' court dates on November 1st went well and we are all set for our November 23rd Court appearance. Hopefully we'll be able to update more real soon - including PICTURES we will take on our trip - but unfortunately we are short on time once again.
Please pray for our safety on our trip, the kids and grandparents back home, and everything about our time in Ethiopia - meeting the agency workers, visiting Bethel's grave, meeting the birth parents, meeting our children, travel within Ethiopia, visiting with Gary & Peggy Ifft, and of course the actual Court appearance.
Thank you so much and God bless!
Monday, October 18, 2010
GREAT NEWS TO SHARE !
We've been in a tough spot - not knowing what all needed to be done to update our file with the Ethiopian court and how long that would take. We have continued to pray that God will bring our kids home to us soon and were holding out a small - but very unlikely - hope that we could keep our old court date, but were pretty much resigned to the fact that we were going to be put back in the group waiting for court dates and would not be traveling for at least a couple of months. In fact, I somewhat jokingly added "If anyone asks we are okay with keeping our old court date!" in an e-mail last week checking on the status of our file.
Today we received some GREAT news! Our agency representative talked to the judge about our situation and the judge has agreed to let us keep our old court date!!! This feels like a miracle!
Our court date is set for November 23rd and (barring any unforeseen circumstances) we will be leaving for Ethiopia IN ONE MONTH! The court date for the birth parents (this is part of the normal process) is November 1st, so we are praying everything goes well with that as well.
We are still in shock a little bit but we are definitely PRAISING GOD for this good news.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support!
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. -- Ephesians 3:20-21
Today we received some GREAT news! Our agency representative talked to the judge about our situation and the judge has agreed to let us keep our old court date!!! This feels like a miracle!
Our court date is set for November 23rd and (barring any unforeseen circumstances) we will be leaving for Ethiopia IN ONE MONTH! The court date for the birth parents (this is part of the normal process) is November 1st, so we are praying everything goes well with that as well.
We are still in shock a little bit but we are definitely PRAISING GOD for this good news.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support!
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. -- Ephesians 3:20-21
Monday, October 11, 2010
Is the Orphan My Neighbor? : Why Justice for the Fatherless is Worth the Risk -- Dr. Russell Moore
I guess I could summarize and give some thoughts on Dr. Moore's article, but I think it is best served to just let it stand on its own. I hope you are blessed and convicted by it.
I will never forget seeing her pull the measuring tape out of her purse as she talked about the skull of her child.
The woman, standing in an airport in Russia with my wife and me, was, like us, an American. She, like us, was in the former Soviet Union to pursue adoption. But she was worried. She had heard “horror stories” about fetal alcohol syndrome and various other nightmares. She said that the measuring tape was for gauging the size of the craniums of her potential children, to “make sure there’s nothing wrong with them.”
The reason I think about this conversation so much these days is because I am finding—more and more often—that one of the primary obstacles for Christians in advocating for the fatherless can be summed up right there in that measuring tape: the issue of fear. As much as we might not want to admit it, many of us don’t think much about orphans because, frankly, we’re scared of them.
Orphans are unpredictable. Often we don’t know where they’ve come from, what kind of genetic maladies and urges lie dormant somewhere in those genes. Moreover, in virtually every situation of fatherlessness, there is some kind of tragedy: a divorce, a suicide, a rape, a drug overdose, a disease, a drought, a civil war, and on and on. We’d rather not think about such things, and we’re afraid often of what kind of lasting mark they leave on their victims.
Those of us who know Christ ought to recognize that fear is often a deterrent to justice, a deterrent that has been indicted, crucified, and buried in the triumph of Jesus. In Jesus’ story of the so-called “good Samaritan,” after all, Jesus presents us with a man who “fell among robbers” and was beaten, nearly to death (Lk. 10:30). With little commentary on why, Jesus tells us, simply, that two passers-by, both religious officials, moved on to the other side, to avoid the wounded man (Lk. 10:31-32).
While many have speculated that there might have been theological reasons behind their neglect (the fear of becoming ceremonially unclean from touching a corpse), the most compelling reason I’ve ever heard was from Martin Luther King, Jr., who wondered whether the passers-by were simply afraid.
After all, there were no streetlights on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho—the setting of this story. There was no police force. A man beaten by terrorists is a good signal that the evildoers are still about, perhaps hiding in the caves along the roadside, lying in wait for their next victim. Moving on along, quickly and quietly, probably just seemed like prudence.
But Jesus never was one for justification by prudence alone. He praised a Samaritan—a reviled outcast from the official religious structures—for the compassion he demonstrated toward this man. And the compassion Jesus commended—and commanded from us in imitation—wasn’t mere charity. The Samaritan didn’t simply help the beaten man; he gave him his own animal, set him up in an inn, and paid for all his expenses for his ongoing care (Lk. 10:34-35). Any Israelite hearing this account would have seen immediately what was going on. The Samaritan was treating the beaten man like family.
Right now, there is a crisis of fatherlessness all around the world. Chances are, in your community, the foster care system is bulging with children, moving from home to home to home, with no rootedness or permanence in sight. Right now, as you read this, children are “aging out” of orphanages around the world. Many of them will spiral downward into the hopelessness of drug addiction, prostitution, or suicide. Children in the Third World are languishing in group-homes, because both parents have died from disease or have been slaughtered in war. The curse is afoot, and it leaves orphans in its wake.
Not every Christian is called to adopt or to foster children. And not every family is equipped to serve every possible scenario of special needs that come along with particular children. Orphan care isn’t easy. Families who care for the least of these must count the cost, and be willing to offer up whatever sacrifice is needed to carry through with their commitments to the children who enter into their lives.
But, while not all of us are called to adopt, the Christian Scriptures tell us that all of us are called to care “widows and orphans in their distress” (Jas. 1:27). All of us are to be conformed to the mission of our Father God, a mission that includes justice for the fatherless (Exod. 22:22; Deut. 10:18; Ps. 10:18; Prov. 23:10-11; Isa. 1:17; Jer. 7:6; Zech. 7:10). As we are conformed to the image of Christ, we share with him his welcoming of the oppressed, the abandoned, the marginalized; we recognize his face in the “least of these,” his little brother and sisters (Matt. 25:40).
The followers of Jesus should fill in the gap left by a contemporary Western consumer culture that extends even to the conception and adoption of children. Who better than those who have been welcomed by Christ to care for the most feared and least sought after of the world’s orphans? After all, who are we, as those who are the invited to Jesus’ wedding feast? We are “the poor and the crippled and the blind and the lame” (Lk. 14:21). Since that is the case, Jesus tells us, we are to model the same kind of risk-taking, unconditional love (Lk. 14:12), the kind that casts out fear.
Yes, orphan care can be risky. Justice for the fatherless will sap far more from us than just the time it takes to advocate. These kids need to be reared, to be taught, to be hugged, to be heard. Children who have been traumatized often need more than we ever expect to give. It is easier to ignore those cries. But love of any kind is risky.
The Gospel means it’s worth it to love, even to the point of shedding your own blood. After all, that’s what made a family for ex-orphans like us.
http://www.russellmoore.com/2010/10/07/is-the-orphan-my-neighbor/
I will never forget seeing her pull the measuring tape out of her purse as she talked about the skull of her child.
The woman, standing in an airport in Russia with my wife and me, was, like us, an American. She, like us, was in the former Soviet Union to pursue adoption. But she was worried. She had heard “horror stories” about fetal alcohol syndrome and various other nightmares. She said that the measuring tape was for gauging the size of the craniums of her potential children, to “make sure there’s nothing wrong with them.”
The reason I think about this conversation so much these days is because I am finding—more and more often—that one of the primary obstacles for Christians in advocating for the fatherless can be summed up right there in that measuring tape: the issue of fear. As much as we might not want to admit it, many of us don’t think much about orphans because, frankly, we’re scared of them.
Orphans are unpredictable. Often we don’t know where they’ve come from, what kind of genetic maladies and urges lie dormant somewhere in those genes. Moreover, in virtually every situation of fatherlessness, there is some kind of tragedy: a divorce, a suicide, a rape, a drug overdose, a disease, a drought, a civil war, and on and on. We’d rather not think about such things, and we’re afraid often of what kind of lasting mark they leave on their victims.
Those of us who know Christ ought to recognize that fear is often a deterrent to justice, a deterrent that has been indicted, crucified, and buried in the triumph of Jesus. In Jesus’ story of the so-called “good Samaritan,” after all, Jesus presents us with a man who “fell among robbers” and was beaten, nearly to death (Lk. 10:30). With little commentary on why, Jesus tells us, simply, that two passers-by, both religious officials, moved on to the other side, to avoid the wounded man (Lk. 10:31-32).
While many have speculated that there might have been theological reasons behind their neglect (the fear of becoming ceremonially unclean from touching a corpse), the most compelling reason I’ve ever heard was from Martin Luther King, Jr., who wondered whether the passers-by were simply afraid.
After all, there were no streetlights on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho—the setting of this story. There was no police force. A man beaten by terrorists is a good signal that the evildoers are still about, perhaps hiding in the caves along the roadside, lying in wait for their next victim. Moving on along, quickly and quietly, probably just seemed like prudence.
But Jesus never was one for justification by prudence alone. He praised a Samaritan—a reviled outcast from the official religious structures—for the compassion he demonstrated toward this man. And the compassion Jesus commended—and commanded from us in imitation—wasn’t mere charity. The Samaritan didn’t simply help the beaten man; he gave him his own animal, set him up in an inn, and paid for all his expenses for his ongoing care (Lk. 10:34-35). Any Israelite hearing this account would have seen immediately what was going on. The Samaritan was treating the beaten man like family.
Right now, there is a crisis of fatherlessness all around the world. Chances are, in your community, the foster care system is bulging with children, moving from home to home to home, with no rootedness or permanence in sight. Right now, as you read this, children are “aging out” of orphanages around the world. Many of them will spiral downward into the hopelessness of drug addiction, prostitution, or suicide. Children in the Third World are languishing in group-homes, because both parents have died from disease or have been slaughtered in war. The curse is afoot, and it leaves orphans in its wake.
Not every Christian is called to adopt or to foster children. And not every family is equipped to serve every possible scenario of special needs that come along with particular children. Orphan care isn’t easy. Families who care for the least of these must count the cost, and be willing to offer up whatever sacrifice is needed to carry through with their commitments to the children who enter into their lives.
But, while not all of us are called to adopt, the Christian Scriptures tell us that all of us are called to care “widows and orphans in their distress” (Jas. 1:27). All of us are to be conformed to the mission of our Father God, a mission that includes justice for the fatherless (Exod. 22:22; Deut. 10:18; Ps. 10:18; Prov. 23:10-11; Isa. 1:17; Jer. 7:6; Zech. 7:10). As we are conformed to the image of Christ, we share with him his welcoming of the oppressed, the abandoned, the marginalized; we recognize his face in the “least of these,” his little brother and sisters (Matt. 25:40).
The followers of Jesus should fill in the gap left by a contemporary Western consumer culture that extends even to the conception and adoption of children. Who better than those who have been welcomed by Christ to care for the most feared and least sought after of the world’s orphans? After all, who are we, as those who are the invited to Jesus’ wedding feast? We are “the poor and the crippled and the blind and the lame” (Lk. 14:21). Since that is the case, Jesus tells us, we are to model the same kind of risk-taking, unconditional love (Lk. 14:12), the kind that casts out fear.
Yes, orphan care can be risky. Justice for the fatherless will sap far more from us than just the time it takes to advocate. These kids need to be reared, to be taught, to be hugged, to be heard. Children who have been traumatized often need more than we ever expect to give. It is easier to ignore those cries. But love of any kind is risky.
The Gospel means it’s worth it to love, even to the point of shedding your own blood. After all, that’s what made a family for ex-orphans like us.
http://www.russellmoore.com/2010/10/07/is-the-orphan-my-neighbor/
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