A Trip Within a Trip

Tuesday morning I woke up with stomach cramps. We had to fly out at three to Makele. I was worried I wouldn’t make it. We didn’t confirm our tickets so we had to go early because we were on standby. I felt terrible. My body was getting weak. I prayed for God’s grace to sustain me.

We got on the flight. It took 1 hour and twenty minutes. It was a terribly rough landing. Marciano picked us up from the “airport” (It was a tin shack). It was after stepping off the plane and looking around that I felt I was in Africa. It was barren and rough looking. It was beautiful. Marciano took us around Mekele. I like Mekele much better than Addis. It has fewer people and they seam more friendly. They have sidewalks and the buildings are made of stone, not tin. Marciano’s house was beautiful. It was peacefull, like Elrond’s house. But after a cup of tea, my cramps returned, and thus began my day of dehydrations and diarrhea. We met Bob and Tammy, missionary friends of Patrick. We went to a pizzaria and talked in code. They wanted to be secretive about being missionaries, because they worked covertly with the Orthodox church. I can’t be secretive, so I shut my mouth. We went home and went to bed.

The next day, I woke up feeling worse. I had woken up several times in the night. I was very weak and tired. Had diarrhea all morning. Ate very little breakfast. We’re supposed to go with Marciano to visit homes where he has placed orphans. Didn’t think I could go. Slept until lunch. Went back to bed. Ross, Patric, and Marciano went without me. Slept till their return. Ate at same pizzaria for dinner. Came home and went to bed.

Thursday, woke up and pooped. Solid, ahh, Praise the Lord. Went to the tin airport and got a shoeshine. Flew back to Addis. Another rough descent. Our taxi driver dind’t meet us; hire another. Went back to Red Cross and dropped off bags. Ate at Aggasi (steaks for $2). Crossed street to LTC for IOI prayer meeing. Gave a brief testimony about how God called me to Jackson and about discipleship and authority. Went back to Red Cross.

Friday: Met Negash to climb a mountain to a remote village. He has been visinting this village for one year. He treks up to see them every 2 weeks. It was a rough three-hour hike in mud. The mountains were beautiful. There is too much to say about this trip now, but I hope to write more about in the future. We got to the top…finally, and spoke (all three of us). I read a passage out of Isiah 66. The small church invited us next door for coffee. We gegan our descent in the rain. Three miserable hours in th erian. It was well worth the misery, went to Negash’s house and ate. Joseph, the taxi driver, took us back to the Red Cross. Gopod night…

What Man Will Finish My Race?

Went to Repi Kallie Hawot church. Negash showed us around the “compound.” Property of mud with mud classrooms. The “sanctuary” was a concrete slab, some branches, and metal siding. Adequate. We worshiped for two or three hours. I could not understand what was bing said, sung, or preached. However, I felt like I worshiped the Lord through the prayers and songs of my brothers. I wept a little. When these peopelsang a hymn, it was blessed. Negash transleated most of the sermon for me wan d I tried to thanslate it to Ross, but I’d fotget 70% of what Negash said. They had a guest singer who shared his testimony: he dug through the dump and fought hyenas for food. God saved him. He was a very good guitar player. Before the service, someone mentioned seeing a guitar. It was suggested I play a song rater than speak. O to cradle of the neck of a guitar in my lft nand. It was sweet. I played When Jesus Comes. I forgot some lines (as usual), but I figured nobody could understand me. I changed the last verse to “When Jesus comes/we’ll go home/no longer will/ we be alon/’cuase in this world/ we don’t belong/wo when He comes/ We’ll go to the same home. Ross shared a dream about praying to the one true God among Muslims, Hinus, and Ethiopian Orthodoxy.

We shook the hands of many smiling men and children as we left. A crowd of kids followed us down the street as we made our way to Negash’s house. Once we arrived, we ate speghetti and Ethiopian food. It was delicious. A young man named Bisrat showed up. He is about 25-years-old. Negash has helped him and ministered to him. He hs a mintal illness and comes from an Islamic backhground. He became a believer and his family shunned him. We prayed for him for a bit and encouraged hime. This is a man who, by accepting Christ, has accepted abandonment and family support. May God grant him peace, stability and someone to shepherd and disciple him. We came back home shortly after.

Today’s thoughts come from a realization that these men have very little to share with Christ. Jesus is their lives. They seemed prepared for death, and why wouldn’t they? Death surrounds them. With all of the dangers around them, life expectancy, I think, is around late fifties. Death, to them, is deliverance and a better existence. Death to them is a resurrected body, regenerated hands and feet, sight, voice, and healing. Death to Americans (at least to me at times) is the passing away of the worldly things I love so much. It is going to a place without sex or coffee. I found myself thingking how sad it is that I must leave these men to be the salt of the earth and I must return to be less. I can’t wait to go back home, but in a way, it hurts to know there are men as great as these. It is humbling, but somehow painful, too. So I wondered if and when I’d come back and for how long. Addis Ababa is an awful place: it stinks, it is dirty and crowded. But it is not godforsaken as long as these men are here. I don’t want to live here, but the thought of returning with Patrick in the future is not upsetting. Negash expressed interest in a group of musical folks to come over and minister to the youth, so who knows, God has callede me to music so if I cam back to “work,” I can’t see myself doing anything else. Before I started writing tonight, I was thinking about what God might be doing with me. I want to resist dreaming too much. I want to wait for His voice to call before deciding nbeforehand what He will do. He is leading me along a road I never thought I’d trod. Jackson, Africa…I can’t help but wonder who I will be at the end of my journey. What man will finish my race?

Welcome to Ethiopia

First full day in Addis Ababa

Joy comes in the morning. After my dream, Patrick woke us up at 7:00 a.m. I finished the night in peace. I had one more dream, but all I remember is that Brian Denker was in it. I miss Brian. It was good to see him…even if it was only in a dream. When I awoke, I lookewd outside. The courtyard of the Ethiopian Red Cross compound looked nice. I went to Ross’ room after a shower and saw the view from His window. There are beautiful mountains all around.

After breakfast, Fukatu picked us up. We walked out of the compound and to the closest busy road. I have never even imagined what I saw. There were no businesses or shops, but the street was loaded with people. On the side of the road I saw what appeared to be people cooking over small fires, perhaps to sell to passersby. We made it to the busy street and hopped on a taxi-van. There was a guy driving and another hung out of the sliding door in the back. He would try and get other passengers to get on. It got full at times. Praise God I didn’t have another panic attack. We got out of the van and walked along the busy streets of Addis. Beggars everywhere: lame, blind, lepers, amputees, children and on and on. I was overwhelmed!

I witnessed poverty I have only heard about. Along the streets, among with hoards of people, are mud, dung, goats, sheep, and shacks, which were evidently businesses. I almost wept when a man, while the door to the van was open, walked up, extending two wrists without hands, mumbling desperate words I couldn’t understand. Why I almost wept is hard to say. I almost wept many times. Obviously, for an American to see any individual living in such poverty, is overwhelming, much more an antire city. But I hope my verge-of-tears was due to something else; perhaps not.

After leaving the van, we walked a ways and got a taxi to take us to the Baptist training center, where Negash works. They were having a graduation ceremony. I met many ment whose names I don’t remember. Patrick, then took us across the street to Agassi for tea. He gave us coins to give to beggars if the Spirit led us. Then we walked up the street to see the Orthodox church. We also saw a sheep market. On the way back, a small group of children accompanied us. They wanted money. They were beautiful children. Patrick spoke to them in Amharic. He joked with them a little. While we walked, Ross and I discussed how to discern when to give and when not to give. I wondered if this was a familiar situation with the disciples and apostles. What did they do? I felt bad, but I didn’t give them any money. Patrick pointed out that they had healthy bellies, but they convinced him to buy them some bread. As we got back to the BTC, more children surrounded us (many of the same kids). One little girl only held my hand and asked for nothing. Patrick handed me the rest of the bread and said “have fun.” I gave out in the name of Jesus to smiling kids, but many were the same kids who had already received some. I ahd a little left in my pocket at the end of the day.

We went back to Agassi for lunch. I had my first poop experience there. Not as traumatic as expected, but no diarriah (praise God). We ate with two I.O.I. missionaries: Tetuk and Goshaway. Tetuk shared his testimony with us. He accepted Christ during the famine in 1977. American missionaries shared Christ with him and he believed. Goshaway sat silent most of the meal because he didn’t speak English. But with Tetuk translating, he shared his testimony, too. He was a Muslim but fell very ill. He lost the use of his limbs for a while and then fell mute. Allah couldn’t heal him. After unsuccessfully seeking healing from Muslims, he heard about the healing power of Christ. He attended an Evangelical [church] where he received a Bible. He read it faithfully for six months. He loved the book of Job. He then had a dream that he was atop a mountain and heard a voice from heavne saying, “Your time of sickness is finished, I have healed you.” A man brought him down from the mountain, where Muslims wanted to kill him. The man fought for him and killed the Muslims. He woke up with joy and he was saved. My eyes filled with tears. After this we went back to the BTC where we prayed for Goshaway (he was going home the next day and it is a long journey).

Negash took us back to the Red Cross after this. He prayed for us and left. We talked in Ross’ room for a while. I took a short nap in my room and went downstairs for dinner: rice, spinach, squash, and tomatoes, French fries, nile pike, and beef. It was a wonderful meal.

A Prophetic Dream: July 12, 2002 (3:15 a.m.)

Dream: There was more before this but I don’t remember it all. I’m tired and want to go back to sleep.

I get back from Ethiopia. Al.l is well. We have said hello to all of our frineds and all go separate ways home. I get to a house that is mine. As I unload the vehicle, I realize I had left my house key with a friend before I left. Without that key, I cannot get in. It is late. Idon’t want to wake anyone but I need in the house. I decide to walk to Leann Medders house. I figure I could use here pone to contact the person with my key. She lives only a few doors down.

As I walk down the street I see an enormous dog. I am a stranger to him. He barks and begins to chase me. I run. He’s too swift; he comes up from behind and bites, I think, my left hand. He won’t let go. I realize I can’t get away: I must fight this dog. I wrestle him to the ground. I’m on top of him. I discuss with myself out loud what I should do. It is so real at this point. Then it hits me; It was as if I had had a dream about this before (in the dream; I remember no such dream now). Based on the dream, I decide, “I have to kill you. You don’t deserve to live.” Feeling justified to do so, I struck the dog’s head against the street…repeatedly. I felt bad but justified. Then a bunch (three or four) neighborhood dogs came to see what was going on. I stood up over the first dog’s body and told them, “Go home, I am the biggest, you are small and insignificant, you are beatabnle and killable.”* They began to leave.

At this point, a few birds get involved. One was a cardinal, but I don’t remember what the other one was. I was angry with them, too…at least one of them. One was the mother of the other, though they both weren’t cardinals. I yelled at at least one and threw it. I think it was the mother beause the one I didn’t throw seemed to be relieved at being dismissed from her authority. This is the dream the best I can remember it. Now God grant me sleep. Amen.

*The words to the dogs are paraphrased. I don’t remember exactly what I said.

Layovers

We left Dublin today; ‘twas very sad. I want to go back. We flew to London and had about seven or eight hours before our flight to Germany. We took the Tube to see Westminster Abby. We got there too late; we didn’t get to go in. We saw Big Ben. I had my picture taken in front of it. Then we had fish and chips at the Silver Cross. The bartender gave us a little history lesson on the black-and-tans (a English police force sent to subdue the Irish). We had just a short time to go to the Café in the Crypt, a café Patrick had been to, located in the basement of a cathedral. We couldn’t see the sanctuary because it was closing.

Because we needed to be at the airport soon, we rushed to the Tube. After eating the fish and chips, all of the rushing, the hot, stuffy, crowded train, and a rough ride, I had a panic attack. It was the worst one I had ever had. We had to ride the train for about an hour. I kept wanting to get off for some fresh air but we didn’t have time. I felt like puking and passing out. I made it to the airport and felt better.

While waiting to board our flight to Germany, Patrick was getting the money straight. It seemed we may have forgotten to pay for our lunch. Patrick felt so bad, he called the restaurant to see if anyone had stiffed them today. Patrick explained and the guy said that next time we were in London, to stop by for a free lunch for being honest. Turns out we did pay. Mary Ann had given us 20 pounds, which Patrick didn’t account for. Now we are in Frankfurt, Germany for the night. We fly out early to Addis.

I miss Ireland. I don’t have any desire to live anywhere else in Europe, of course, I really haven’t seen much of it. I am just so captured by Ireland. The people, the landscapes, music, pubs, and acents. I want to go back for longer than two days. Maybe the Lord will let me someday.

First Stop: Dublin, Ireland

We set off two days ago. We left Memphis at 9:00 p.m. Didn’t sleep on the plane…at all. Read a little, tried to watch a couple of movies. Engines were too loud to hear CD player. By early morning, I could see the sun through a small opening in the shade of the plane. It was strange to watch the sun rise, set, then rise again in the same 24 hours.

We arrived in Dublin around noon (Dublin time). Mary Anne Steffy met us at the airport. We stepped outside and felt the cool Irish air. It reminded me of Long Island. There is a crispness to the air. I don’t understand it. Mary Ann drove us to our B&B in her European car. Patrick sat in the front passenger seat; Ross and I kept thinking he was driving. Mary Ann took us downtown, City Center. We saw her office. She took us down the street to Dublin Castle. We then ate Itallian food near Mary Ann’s house. All of the small shops, pubs, restaurants, and houses that I wish I could see in America are here. I fell in love with Ireland the night we got here.

Today we woke up and had breakfast at the B&B. Mary Ann picked us up and took us into the country. All of the pictures I’ve seen of Ireland came to life today. We saw green hills as tll as mountains, goats, sheep, rock walls strange trees, and huge clouds. I love the country side here. We visited Avoca, where they weave wool. We then ate at Fox’s Pub, the highest pub in Dublin. I had a smoked salmon and crab sandwich. We also saw (before Fox’s) the Glendalaugh Monastary.

Then we headed back to City Center and saw the Book of Kells, and ancient manuscript. This was at Trinity College. We also went through the long room, a room full of ancient books. It smelled like ancient books, too. We then went to Ragús, a show featuring traditional Irish music and dance (I’ll write more about this later). Afterwards, we returned to the B&B.