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

It's a....

Jackson can't wait to tell you about his new sibling...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVPgHzy8HF8

Getting in with the old guys.

Yesterday I found myself in a quite precarious situation. When it
comes down to it, I was sitting in a small (maybe the size of 2 dining
tables put together) dark (one light bulb hanging in the middle) bar
surrounded by about 10 guys over 60.

It all started when we went over to our neighbor's house to celebrate
one of the daughters graduating from technical school. We were
picturing a "normal" graduation party. But it turned out to be...
"Let's celebrate our daughter's graduation by inviting our neighbors
over and giving them an extremely large dinner." Yes, we went into
the daughter's room...sat on her bed (there were no chairs)..and then
they handed us a plate and filled it up with tons of food. They
didn't eat with us...they just served us. (Now this is actually kind
of normal...when someone asks you over for dinner...that means they
will serve you dinner and watch you eat...most likely with food in
their hand so they can give you second servings as soon as
possible....meaning you ate a couple bites.) Anyways, after this huge
dinner and saying "Becca" (Enough) a million times, we moved away from
the room outside. It was getting dark and we were all just chatting
away...watching Jackson be silly. Then the father of the
house...takes my hand and says a couple things in Amharic. All i
could understand was "Coca Cola" and "Come with me." I assumed he
meant we were going to get a couple drinks. No problem...I enjoy an
ice cold Coke. He grabbed my hand, and we walked about three blocks
away. Notice, I didn't say he let go of my hand. We walked the three
blocks hand in hand. Yes two grown men holding hands. It's normal
here.

Well we walk up together (hand in hand) towards a small bar. I've
been by it before...but never stepped inside. I look inside and see
about 10 guys over 60 all sitting down and chatting. My neighbor
walks in, everyone stands up, neighbor says something...and they all
look at me and approach me to take my hand. We all exchange
greetings. I notice all are drinking beer. Some people scoot aside
to allow my neighbor and I to sit down. Bar tender approaches me...I
say "Caskaza Coca" (Cold Coke)....we're here for cokes right?? NOPE.
My neighbor looks at me with a smirk, says no no...and tells me to get
a beer. I say Coke. He says beer. Finally I agree. (I really don't
see anything wrong with drinking a beer...it's just that we live in a
Muslim neighborhood where beer and alcohol is not highly regarded. I
don't want to lose respect from those M neighbors...if they see me.
But I realize I also have a great opportunity to build relationships
with the old men all around me.) "St. George please." The bartender
looks at my neighbor and asks what he wants. Neighbor replies, "Wiha"
(Water). WHAT I Say to him!!! He smiles and says he feels sick.
What a sneaky weasel! First he tells me we're getting a coke, then he
cons me into drinking when he himself is not! When I am about halfway
done with my bottle...my neighbor says something to the
bartender...and another cold beer is dropped in front of me. I can't
believe this guy! I laugh and say thanks. He wanted me to have
another, but I caught him this time as he was ordering it for me.

I enjoy the rest of the night with the guys/ old men. We talk and
watch the Arsenal/ West Ham game on TV. It was a good night. Odd.
But good. I'm in with these older respected guys in the community.

Warning: This post NOT for those who like cats and dogs.

We always have an interesting coffee/ tea break... yesterday's was pretty noteworthy.

There is a small coffee shop (picture a place the size of your bathroom with a coffee machine in it) just down the street from our house. We like to go there in the late afternoons.  Jackson likes to point out all the minibus taxis coming.  He says, "Bus..Coming!" or "Bus...Vrooom."  The place has one table outside so we all sit there and say hi to all the people walking by. 

We've noticed a new dog in town.  We call him "Rabash," meaning "trouble-maker" in Amharic.  He goes around our village and picks fights with all the other street dogs.  Every once in a while, we will hear dogs fighting...and guess who is part of it...yes...Rabash.  Jackson says, "Noo Doggies!"  No one likes Rabash...so often you will see people pick up rocks and throw it at him.  I guess to kick him out.  It's funny though...I don't think many Ethiopians have thrown balls growing up...because they sure can't throw rocks.  Often the rock heads towards the wrong dog...or maybe another person. 

We've also come to realize that there is a "village guard."  We've noticed the same guy always walking around our area with a big stick. He's a nice old man...maybe 60s. Sometimes he let's Jackson play with the stick and hit things.  I just thought he was another house's gate guard...but this guy is big time...he is the village guard. Kind of like a mall cop..but with out the Segway.  Well yesterday we saw him at one point as he was waving down Jackson and calling for him. He waved his stick to try to entice Jackson. Jackson didn't budge...he was enjoying watching the buses drive by.  Well the next moment, the guard disappeared??? We didn't know where he went.  Was he responding to some sort of emergency?  Probably not.  Did he get hit by a bus? maybe...those buses are crazy...we call them "Al-Qaida" buses.  But there were not people yelling and screaming...so he was ok. But where did he go? 

Well we notice "Rabash" come walking along...looking for trouble as usual.  He starting walking towards a small little house dog..but then Rabash stopped dead in his tracks.  What was happening? What frightened him so much?  Well all of a sudden our 60 year old village guard..jumps out of a hedge of bushes and starts pelting rocks at Rabash!!!! It was great!   The dog runs away (briefly) and the guard looks our way hoping to receive some sort of acknowledgment.  He was pretty proud of himself for his cunning move.

Well...the story doesn't end there.  Out from a side road...a Land Cruiser emerges making its way towards us to the main road.  I notice something crawling out of the grill of the car.  Jackson says, "Kitty."   Yes...It's a little kitten!  What the heck was he doing there!! Well the poor kitty no longer wants to enjoy the free ride so he jumps off, narrowly escaping the front wheel....but not so lucky with the back wheel.  It clips his back end.  Jackson says, "Kitty. Fall Down" But this kitty is a trooper!  He pulls himself to the side of the road, finds a set of bushes and tries to climb in and hide.  We cheer him on!  But not wanting to get too personal and actually help it out...you never know where these stray cats have been or what diseases they have on them.  The cat almost makes it into the bushes...when some homeless guy comes walking along and picks up the kitty.  Perhaps we was going to try to sell it?  (You sometimes see people holding out kittens or puppies for sale on the side of the road).  Well the kitten escapes the clutches of his captor (or perhaps the captor realized the kitten is injured)....but lo and behold...the kitten winds up in the middle of the street once again, right next to a stray dog.  Again jackson says, "Kitty Fall Down.   No Doggies" The dog approaches, we think its the end of Gato.  But luckily the dog just wants to play. He runs around the kitty...but never tries to bite him.  We think the poor kitty is out of energy by now...he doesn't do anything expect watch the dog run around him.  I consider running to my house to grab a shovel and scoot the cat back in the bushes.  While I'm considering if it's actually necessary...Rabash comes running down the street and right towards kitty!!! What's going to happen!!!  is this finally the end?!!  No!!! The village guard saves the day one again...rocks come flying, barely missing the kitty but enough to scare off Rabash.  The kitty finally works up enough energy to pull himself to the bushes!  Jackson says, "Kitty...bushes"

We've had enough excitement for the day so we head home.  In case you are wondering what happened to kitty...I think he's OK. I checked the bushes again today...and guess what...No kitty. He probably made it back home safe and sound.

Didn't Realize I'd Missed...

Sarah here.  Over the past few days of being back in our relatively new homeland, I've been making a list of the things I've noticed here that I either didn't think I would miss, or things I didn't realize I would miss.  Enjoy.

- The way a lot of people walk here reminds me of a giraffe.  Many are tall and thin and their head, neck and upper body sort of sway back and forth, and their arms sort of sway gracefully back and forth.  Especially when they walk uphill.

- All the Toyota Corollas.  They are EVERYWHERE and it always makes me laugh to see a huge line of them in a parking lot, almost like a dealership.

- The exhaust fumes, especially if you have your window down while driving which is hard not to do because the sun is strong at 5 degrees north of the equator.  Oh wait, I didn't miss that at all.

- Being called fat over and over as a compliment by all of our Ethiopian friends.  Fat and really white.  To them it's a big compliment.  To me it's not.  Oh yeah, I didn't miss that either.

-Tariku!  Our guard!  Jackson missed him the most, or maybe he missed Jackson the most!  They are best friends and it's so fun to see and hear them playing and laughing together all the time. 

-Our tacky curtains in our home, and drawing them back in the mornings, closing them in the evenings.

-The really funny signs with incorrect English.  My personal favorite ever since we moved here is a tiny "restaurant" called BURGER LUSCIOUS.  Pretty sure they mean burger-licious. Every single time!  I need to start getting pictures of some of our favorite signs.

-Looking out the window, of walking around and seeing Ethiopians and Somalis walking everywhere.

-Going out into the city, driving or walking, and being completely amazed at how many people there are - there's never an empty street, most are full of people walking.  I always wonder where everyone is going.

-Yonas the salesman who became my friend when he offered me an umbrella to buy from afar and I held up the one I already had in my lap.  He thought it was pretty much the funniest thing that had ever happened to him personally, and loves to hold up his umbrella to me as a joke every time we see him on Bole road.  Which is all the time.  He's such a sweet salesman!  He's on to sunglasses now that the rainy season is over.

-Going to one of the relatively few ATMs to get some money and finding it to be out of money, and then laughing because it's Ethiopia.  Not an uncommon occurrence.

-Seeing our (Jackson's) friends at the Parisienne cafe where we go for a good Macchiato, and for an omelette - one of the few places with good breakfast food.  Jackson loves it because everyone that works there treats him like royalty and they give him ice cream cones.  Just the cone usually.  Sometimes the ice cream, but I think the manager told them not to give ice cream any more...

-The noise - people talking or yelling, music blaring (not always), lots of people greeting each other (Ethiopian pastime - ours is baseball, theirs is a series of greetings that can potentially go on and on and on).

-The crazy driving!  It usually amuses me when Andrew's behind the wheel, but then I get nervous when I remember I need to practice a it and then it's my turn...oh dear.

-The expectation of a tip.  From so many people.  For ridiculous things sometimes.  There's a little boy who likes to con people outside of the Parisienne and he's always trying to get money out of people.  The place was busy, and there were waiters and parking attendants outside near all the cars, but when we finished and were leaving, this kid is leaning on our car, hovering over everything we're doing as we put Jackson into the car seat, as if he was helping, then told Andrew he had been guarding his car while we were inside (which means, give me money even though you didn't ask me to do this and there was absolutely no need for it).  I know it might sound cold, but it's funny to us when some people want a tip for absolutely everything.  Sometimes people even sort of turn their hand in a circle as you're almost finished parking to "help you" into the spot even though you've got it under control - some people do it to be nice and expect nothing, others then hang around after the little hand motion and wait for you to give them money... This is when we chuckle a bit.

You never know...

Yesterday was pretty interesting; you never really know what to expect here.  After a couple of days noticing the gas gauge was not moving, I assumed I was getting close to empty.  So I pulled into the closest gas station to refuel.   All this..pretty normal so far.  Well, when I tried to start the car back up…guess what…nothing.  The key turns but the engine does not start.  Oh and there is a line of cars behind honking for me to get out of the way.  So…what to do? I'm stuck in my car, not knowing the language with no one to help.  Well, it is  a well known fact here that if someone pushes the car for a bit, the car will magically start.  I've seen it happen.  So the gas attendant group up (without me asking!) and begin pushing my car!  Woohoo!  Or so I think…  The car still does not start, and I soon realize they weren't exactly trying to help; they just wanted me out of the way.  The car now stops at the only entrance of the gas station, and I'm in the middle of the driveway…no one can come in and no one can go out.  What do I do?  I pop the car in neutral, stick my left foot out and somehow manage to push the car out of the driveway…but now into the street… and the car is facing uphill!  Why did I do that??!! Now I'm blocking the street traffic!  Oh..and add to the fact I am on the busiest street in Addis…Bole Road.  Well praise God…he sends two guys to come help me.  All of a sudden two guys come behind the car, and start pushing.  I have no clue who they are (but they obviously know the magical "roll the car to get it started" trick!)  They push me about 10 yards up the top of the hill, and then the car starts cruising down the hill.  The car is soon rolling faster than the guys can push and I soon am alone in a "dead" car…rolling down a hill.  I pray to God one more time to get this car started…and guess what….it starts!!!!   I rev the gas to make sure it doesn't die out again and try my best not to let this car stop while I drive it back home. I made it home.

Check out some sweet pics of my car here