An Afternoon with the Police

Here in Ethiopia, it’s illegal to talk on your phone and drive at the same time. Which is pretty smart since drivers here already have so much to watch out for… cows, donkeys, other crazy drivers, pedestrians, dogs, you name it…it will jump out in front of you.

Well, today I was a rebel, and answered a phone call while driving. I didn’t talk too long, but guess what? A cop saw me. Funny thing is….I didn’t see him. So I kept on driving towards my destination. About five minutes later, as I’m parking along the street next to my destination….I see a cop get out of a car next to me. And then he begins to approach me. Now realize...he didn’t get out of his own “cop car.” He just waved another driver down, and told him to follow me! The police officer, in his broken English, begins to explain that I have 2 offenses. First I was talking on the phone while driving (about $10). Second, I did not pull over when he whistled at me (About $5). Yes…he has a whistle to flag people down.

Now I knew I was in the wrong, so I didn’t fight it. “OK, I’m sorry officer.” He then tells me he is going to get into my car, then we are going to drive to the police station for me to pay the ticket. I tell him that I can’t let strangers in my car. He says, “I’m a cop.” I say, “My company doesn’t want me to take in strangers. So lets walk.” He says the place is far. I say, “I’m ready to exercise.” I partly figured if we had to walk far, the officer just might not be up to it…and let me go. But then he says OK. Yikes! Realize…I’m also in a suit. I just came from the Investment Office, seeking to renew my business license. (I had a very frustrating time there…and at first inwardly complained that I really had to add this to my day!) But then as we were walking…I realized how odd this situation really was. I never would have expected to be walking down a street in Africa… in my suit…with a cop…to the police station… in order to pay a ticket. I was quite curious to see where this situation would lead.

And then it got even better. Yep….the cop again waved down a car, and then asked him to take us to the police station. So I piled in the back of a truck with the cop…and off we were to the station…in some strangers vehicle. I was starting to really find this funny (and well worth the price of the $15 ticket)….so I began to chat it up with the cop and driver. We shared a few laughs. After some time…the cop tells the driver to pull over. We then get out. “This doesn’t seem like the station?” The cop then tells me, I have had the most “beautiful conduct.” I’m not sure what that means, but I say thanks. Then he says, “Let’s go get some tea…and we’ll work things out.” What really? I’m going to get tea with the cop? Sure….

So we head over to some restaurant, and he begins to find a dark corner for us to sit in. Granted…the power was out…so most of the place was already dark. We order drinks and sit and chat. He makes a few phone calls and talks really fast on the phone…I make out something like “He got away. He’s not here.” I’m not sure if he’s talking about me. Soon he begins to reach towards his pocket to pay for the drinks. I’m not sure if he’s just acting…but I say the drinks are on me. He let’s me pay.
We walk out of the restaurant and again he says, “You have had the most beautiful conduct., and so we are through.” Really? “OK Officer.” He then says we are good friends. I agreed with him. He asks for my phone number…and says that he will call me to have tea again or lunch some time. I give him my number and say, “Let’s do it!” Hey….I think it’s really wise to have a cop friend.

We then shake hands are part ways. As I walk away, I begin to wonder…Is it a bribe to have tea with a cop to get out of a ticket? Did I really just become “lunch friends” with the cop that chased me down to write me a ticket? What a weird outing. I laugh to myself. Then I realize I’m quite far from my car.

Breastfeeding: A Group Activity? What?

Apparently, over on this side of the world, not only is nursing normal, but it’s a group activity. Yup.

In America if you’re a nursing mom who needs to feed her kid in front of other people, or (gasp) in public, it’s awkward. Maybe the mom is comfortable with it, maybe there are other moms who understand and are supportive (I’ve been known to cheer on from afar), and maybe lots of people don’t even notice. But there always seem to be people who either notice and avert their eyes because they feel awkward about it, or people who grimace at said nursing mom even if it is done in the most modest way. It’s just such a “thing” in America!

When I was in college I went to Guatemala and up in this little village all the nursing moms had the same super modest shirt as every other woman, but there was a large opening in the middle so that they could feed their kids. No big deal. And even though I totally understood it, felt like it was a good thing, and didn’t think it was “gross” or anything, I still remember chuckling with surprise about the moms who would just “whip out the boob” in front of everyone…IN CHURCH! We all were a little shocked, and all the poor American guys with us felt soooo awkward having a woman do THAT right next to them! No hooter hider or nothin’! It’s just something we are SO not used to in America! My perspective has since changed a bit.

I do my best to cover up when I nurse in public, and even when people can’t see a darn thing, I still get looks. Or people do the old “I didn’t even notice” look and avoid you altogether. Or there’s my favorite – when you’re say, at someone’s house with people you know and maybe a few you don’t know, and you sit on the couch and do your thing with all modesty, and someone comes over and sits down (or almost sits down) and then gets up quickly once they notice you’re BREASTFEEDING! They apologize and say “whoa, sorry! I didn’t know you were feeding him!” Even when you tell them that’s ok, and they can stay, they just can’t do it. Or sometimes if a friend of yours sees an unsuspecting victim walking over to sit near you, they’ll give a friendly warning - “She’s nursing” – in sort of a joking way. You reassure everyone that everything’s gonna be ok, and they can carry on. Business as usual. No one’s gonna get hurt here.

So aside from those who scoff at you while you’re feeding your sweet little baby, or glare at you because it’s just so inappropriate, most people that I am friends and acquaintances with in America have been pretty great about it all. Even the warnings are a joke, and I myself have been known to warn people that I’m about to nurse and they just might see a boob! You know, as a way to lighten the mood and mention the elephant that’s about to enter the room.

I’ve been ranting even though when I sat down for this that was not my intention. But I should know myself better by now. I rant. And ramble. Even now. Get to the point.

Something I’m learning is that there is a huge contrast between how different cultures “participate” in breastfeeding. In America it’s acknowledged – whether with support, tolerance, the “I’m looking over there – I didn’t see anything,” staring, or glaring with disapproval. Here come two little stories of my experiences so far with two other cultures:

When I took Caleb to visit my Somali friends in Fort Worth (and Jackson when he was younger), if I needed to feed him I could do so easily with NO ACKNOWLEDGMENT. It’s kind of hard to explain for some reason. Even though I’m all for nursing in public, I still always feel like I have to gear up and give myself a little pep talk like “ok, here we go, this is the best thing for your kid, and it’s really healthy for you, and our culture needs to have a better view on it and I don’t care if someone gives me a strange look or people awkwardly look away or make a big deal of it…I’m feeding my wee little babe!!! Yes!”

So with my Somali friends I geared myself up with something more along the lines of, “I’ve seen them feed their kids with no discretion, and I know this is totally normal in their culture, but I still feel a little self-conscious because I don’t know how they’ll react…but I’m going for it.” Aaaaand…nothing. Nothing at all. No one looked, but no one avoided looking, no one warned anyone, made any comments, no one was extra careful to look me in the eye and not wander down at all (moms, you know what I mean), and when the younger kids came over and stared or made a remark or giggled that he was eating from my ____(whatever word in whatever language the kid uses) everyone just laughed at the kid being a kid. Sometimes with American parents you get an apology, and the kid is told to leave me alone or that what they said was rude. Why apologize? I don’t care if your kid sees me feeding my kid. And there’s nothing to be ashamed of, it doesn’t embarrass me, and your kid doesn’t need to go away. It’s all good. I prefer it when everyone laughs at that curious little kid who is so immature that they giggle at my boobies. It’s much better than when adults giggle at my boobies. I ramble again.

Recently when we brought our family back to Ethiopia, I had another fun and different breastfeeding experience. Who knew it could all be so fun, right? I’ve had the Awkward Americans, the Didn’t-Bat-an-Eyelash Somali, and now comes the Group Activity Ethiopians.

My Ethiopian friend Eyerus (20 year old single gal) and our guard who lives next to our house (a single, 28 year old dude) were there in the living room with me when Caleb got hungry and I sat down to feed him. They were asking me if I feed him with my “tutu” only and then were both THRILLED to know that yes, I’m a tutu only kind of gal. They then proceeded to talk about my tutufeeding in Amharic for a while, and advised me to “feed from your tutu bicha (only) for six whole months, and were even more amazed. This whole time Eyerus was kneeling right next to the arm of the chair, watching me feed Caleb. I mean watching. Like, leaning in, staring, smiling, oohing and aahing, and saying “wenay!” in a nice high pitched voice, the Amharic equivilant of “oooooh so cute!”

My friends had not only acknowledged the nursing, they were loving it and Eyerus was getting an up close viewing! You would think that would be even more awkward than my ramblings about nursing in front of Americans. Nope. In fact, I was excited and proud and enjoying the “wenay” reaction because that’s exactly how I feel when I feed my little boy! It’s one of the greatest gifts God gives us and is such a sweet, precious time (usually) for a mama and her sweet little baby! So to have others equally as excited, thinking it was such a sweet blessing? Oh yes. I’ll take that any day! In some respects it’s the most amazing thing, in other respects it just a boob. No big deal. Besides I’ve seen a ton of boobies since we’ve moved here, including my old lady neighbor who lifted her shirt and just showed me her chest as she sort of tossed one breast around while explaining to me why it hurt and how long it had been sick. No big deal. Just a boob.

Even my friends at our house church last Sunday from Switzerland, England, Australia, New Zealand took a gander. When I sat down to feed Caleb, several of the moms came by to take a gander and coo over this sweet nursing baby, most of them making comments about how much they just loved it and miss it!

This wasn’t intended to be this long. But since I do spend quite a large per cent of my days feeding my little babe, I guess it’s fitting! Maybe one day we Americans will grow up a bit and realize what breasts were made for. Maybe one day it’ll be nursing: ok. Low-cut “check out these” shirts and dresses (even at church…): not ok. We’ll see!

(By the way none if this is meant to insult anyone or anything like that, just some cultural experiences being shared, that’s all!)

Where is Home?

Nearly every day for the past few weeks, Jackson has been telling us, “I wanna go home.”
“Where,” we ask.
“To Ethiopia.”

While I would love to say that Ethiopia is our new home; if I’m honest with myself, I know that we will always be seen as outsiders. At the same time, we can’t say America Is our home anymore. We sold nearly everything…Outside of family and friends, the only thing that ties us to America is our passports. We live in transition…in a sense we are homeless.

Many thoughts run through my head…but one thought continually comes to mind, “Is this a good way to lead and support my family?” It is great to know that my boy misses Ethiopia. Yet I realize that he’s only expressing the tip of the iceberg regarding his thoughts of a life in transition. When we are back in Ethiopia, he’s going to miss family, friends and comfort back in America. Am I setting my family up for an identity crisis?

I press on though, and lead my family in this journey, trusting in two things I see in the Bible. First of all, this earth is not my home. And second, it’s not a house that makes a home, rather it’s the people in it.

I trust that it is actually ok (perhaps even good) for us not to be too tied down towards any location we may end up at. Perhaps it is good that we are homeless, as it drives us towards a deeper longer for something much greater, namely our eternal home in Heaven. While we can enjoy many of the places God has graciously given us; No place in this world can compare with what he is preparing for us; so why fool ourselves into thinking it can?

Yet while Scripture paints the picture that Heaven will be a spectacular and unbelievable place, it is not the beauty of the city that makes it so attractive…Rather it’s Jesus who dwells in it. “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Rev 21:3-4)

What makes any place magnificent is not the place itself (no matter how amazing it may be); rather it is the people. So while we have no place to call home; we do have each other…and that truly is home. Praise God that he is using our work to draw us closer to each other, and towards him. Praise Him that while this earth in its current state will never provide the security and stability we much need, God is preparing for us a place in eternity that will never fade or fail.

The Blessing of Eve

I write this with my little slice of joy resting in my arms, for whom I would endure the pain of childbirth a million times over.

In this time around Caleb’s birth and around Easter when we celebrate the death, burial and resurrection of our Savior, the Lord has really been showing me some of the amazing parallels between The sacrifice of His Son and the labor and birth of a child.

I was blessed to be able to give birth to both of my sons naturally, unmedicated and beautifully with a wonderful midwife. Yes, blessed. Both experiences were incredible and unique and the most intense of my life (physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually…did I mention physically?) and I wouldn’t change them for anything. Don’t get me wrong, it freaking hurts. But the joy is so worth the pain! With Jackson I was in awe of the whole experience, and learned a lot about really relinquishing the control I often think I have, and giving everything over to Him – trusting in His timing, trusting in His plan, knowing that He not only knit my baby together in my womb, but that He was in charge of each painful contraction, and that this was the way it had to be in order to work this life – my son – out of my body.

This second time around the Lord has been showing me some of the amazing ways that He allowed me to experience something similar to what Jesus experienced. He has allowed me a brief look into the reality of His love for us. Here is a rambling mix of some of the similarities He has been showing me.

The curse from the garden – the entry of sin into the world made it such that God’s Offspring (Jesus) would have his heel struck in order to bring new life (Gen. 3:15) and that Eve would have pain in childbearing in order to bring new life (Gen. 3:16). There is enormous blessing in both of these curses – We receive the blessing of Christ and of being ransomed and given new life through His sacrifice, and as mothers we receive the blessing of new life being brought forth through us in a shadow or reflection of the gospel.

It is all orchestrated, guided, and directed by our Father. Every detail, every contraction.

For the joy set before him, Jesus endured the cross. The joy set before him was giving new life to this fallen world. To those who would believe on Him. We can become sons and daughters through the Lamb’s perfect, holy sacrifice. For the joy of a child, a mother endures the pain of childbirth.

He anticipated the day and chose to go forth with it.

Jesus patiently awaited the appointed time, making the necessary preparations. As expectant mothers, so do we. We wait for God’s timing which He has laid out from the beginning, and we prepare ourselves as best we can for labor – for the birth of a child.

There is pain. We know it is coming and we endure it because we know the joy that lies ahead. New life!

Blood and water

Tearing of flesh

A broken body is given

There is loss of dignity, humiliation, and incredible vulnerability (though every mother I’ve spoken with agrees that when you’re in labor and delivering your child you couldn’t care less about who sees what! This time around I’m becoming more and more amazed at the way that He has made my body for this purpose, and less self conscious about this body He has blessed me with) (But that’s for another time!)

He went through it alone. Jesus Christ was the only one who was able to go to the cross, who was able to bear the burden of our sin. There were people surrounding him, but he was alone. We have husbands and mothers and midwives or doctors but they cannot do it for us. That baby has been in our bellies for nine months, preparing for this time, and it is ours to bear. What a humbling gift since we are incapable of even doing it on our own! Paradox...

Submitting to the Father, knowing and resting in the fact that He is in control

Christ humbled himself to the point of death on a cross. As mothers we are humbled that God allows us to bear children – to know that they are ours in a way that nothing else is. We are humbled that He loves us so tenderly as to care for us as we labor, and our labor is certainly not in vain!

Through one’s suffering, another receives life!

Once we are given this new life He continues to sustain us, nourish us, teach, lead, guide, admonish, encourage, rebuke, correct, comfort, and LOVE us unconditionally. Closest example we have to that? A parent’s love for their child. It doesn’t end when the baby is born - it all grows exponentially from there.

How beautifully and intricately designed it all is!

As he was preparing to go to the cross and explaining to his disciples what was to happen in the days to come, Jesus tells them in John 16:20-22,

“Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy. When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”

With Caleb I was already in love with birth in general, and the Lord has been taking me to a deeper place of understanding the beauty in the pain and the joy that comes after the sorrow. Childbirth is an incredibly vivid picture of the Gospel – a shadow, a reflection that we get to actively experience. It would be incredibly arrogant of me to say I am on the same level as Christ, and that I experienced the same thing that He did on the cross – that’s not what I’m saying. But I do believe that He has given us the undeserved gift of a glimpse into that very thing. Something that we as women, as mothers, get to experience, and that He teaches us amazing things if we listen to Him.

“Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.”

Psalm 30:5b

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Hebrews 12:1-2