Before I got here, I planned to do all sorts of blogging. Recording everything. I expected to be able to just jot down what I've experienced. But that has become difficult, and I'm unsure why.
I mean, it's not like I'm sitting on my butt all day twiddling my thumbs watching my time fly by out the window. I teach half of the day on Monday and Tuesday. And then I teach sign language in the evening on Wed-Fri, after teaching some at the school.
When I can, I go on homevisits. And I'm trying to figure out going to one of the churches each Thursday to play with some kids during the women's Bible study. (Which gives me a blog update idea for later on in this blog).
But I still can't find the words to blog, even though I have time in the evenings or mornings on alternating days to type up some blogs or even write in my journal. As far as my journal goes, I usually just forget. I like to journal about important things, and all days aren't important. Like, tonight was fun: we had a game night with New Zealand, today I experimented with chicken melts, but it's not blog-worthy in its entirety, and I've never been one to journal about normal things—everyday things.
I don't know. Maybe when I get home and show people photos, I can tell stories along with them. Afterall, photos are 1k words.
So, to actually blog on my events...
can't even remember what I last blogged about. So, excuse any repeats...
We went to a Children's Choir in Addis Feb 3. It was run by some Korean organization. The choir sang songs from around the world: Ethiopia, Korea, America, Germany(I think), and a few others. I recorded most of the performance, but I don't know how well it came up because the lighting was stagelights and my camera isn't made for night-time performances. But I think it did OK, I haven't watched the videos though.
...Feb 3. It's—as I am typing this—Feb 25. Just a few days late.
I don't know why this is so hard. Maybe it's because there are a lot of things that happen. Or maybe it's because the weeks go by fast and the days blur together. I mean, it's already Saturday night. It's already a few days short of me having been here 2 months.
It's strange to have alternating feelings toward the length it is until I leave. It's 58 days. Less than two months. Most times it feels too soon. Some times it feels far away. And I don't like feeling either way. Because when I feel it's too soon, I feel like I'm making a declaration of not missing anyone, not caring about anyone back at home. But I do miss people—if not everyone. And I do care about everyone.
But at the same time I feel that if I miss home, then why am I here? I'm not here for my own comforts. I'm not here to satisfy some sense of right-doing. I'm here because I've been called. I'm here because God's directed. I'm here to serve. (Which reminds me of another blog tidbit later on). I'm here to love, to connect with these people. I'm here to allow the light of Christ in me to shine so these people can have a deepened hope in God. They already have such a great faith in God. Do you remember that story about the sugar and the family who ran out of it that morning, but God provided in response to their faith. It reminds me of the widow who used up all her oil and flour to make bread for Elijah. She had no money to just go out and buy more, and she had none in reserve for emergencies. It was all she had, and then she and her son would go hungry and die. (Of course, as nurturing a mother as she was described in the Bible, she would have died of hunger before the son because she would sacrifice her food so he could eat.) But then this man came in, hungry(but, mind you, most likely not knowing the same hunger the widow and her son knew), wanting something to eat. So she baked him bread. God honored her and she never ran out of oil and flour again.
Faith in service, despite a lack of means, gets rewarded. I know the family's situation here in Ethiopia wasn't identical, but still, she had faith God would provide and He did. The widow had faith God would provide(obviously not in the way that happened), and He did.
Do we have that faith? Do we serve God or His people, even if it makes us uncomfortable? Are we running low on food, and God impresses on us to feed another of His children—even if they have more food or more money? Are we running low on money, and God wants us to do something for one of His children but we “have no money” to use, so we ignore it?
1 John 3:16-18 talks about that. If anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother have a need, but shuts up his bowels of compassion from him...how does the love of God dwell in him?
But I feel I've rabbit-trailed.
58 days. It's like a war of love. If I miss home, I feel like I love home more than I love these children and these families. But, if I have a lower level of dread or displeasure at leaving Ethiopia, I feel like I'm loving these families more than I love my family and friends.
It's a weird middle ground. But maybe my focus should be on neither side of the fence, but instead on the Sun that shines on them both. God's will is obviously best, it is on his face I should be focusing. Not my family's or the faces of these impoverished souls.
Afterall, that is what we are called to do. Love God. Deny ourselves; follow Him. Peter stepped out on faith onto the waters that crashed about them all. He remained on firm ground so long as he kept his eyes on Christ. But when he began to look about him, at the waves and the storm, he began to sink. Sure there is chaos here. Sure people are starving, sure families are torn apart, sure people are hurting. But I've stepped out to follow Christ. Not them. I was called to follow as my focus—not serve. If by following Him he leads me to serve, then that's what I'm supposed to do. Peter did step out into the waves around him. I'm sure his feet got wet, I'm sure his clothes got splashed, but he didn't sink if he focused on God.
In Luke it talks about Mary and Martha and Jesus. Jesus came to their house and taught. Martha served, Mary sat and listened and learned. It says that Martha was distracted with her much serving. She went up to Jesus and accused him of not caring that she was working alone while Mary sat, doing nothing, listening to Him teach. Jesus then tells her that she is anxious and troubled over many things. But only one this is necessary. He explains that it was Mary that chose the good thing, that that will never be taken away from her.
Martha was anxious and troubled that she would be able to serve the master of the universe adequately. She was in his presence, and she wanted to make sure she didn't pass this opportunity up by being lazy. She wanted to serve Him with all she had, running around tirelessly. But she became irritated doing it all alone when her sister was in the same position as she was, but she was sitting and not doing anything.
But it was Mary who chose the good portion. She chose to sit at Jesus' feet and learned more about whatever it was that Christ taught about. She didn't worry about making sure Jesus was fed, clean, or comfortable. She wanted to know more about Him, more about His word, more about His will. She wasn't distracted like Martha was. I'm sure they both heard the same lessons, the same teachings. But Martha couldn't pay attention because she was distracted with service. Mary simply sat and listened.
God isn't saying not to serve Him. He wants us to deny ourselves, pick up our crosses, and follow Him. He blessed those who fed the poor, clothed the naked, and gave water to the thirst—he said they did those things literally to him when they did it to the least of people. When we serve others, we serve God. But God doesn't want us to be distracted with much service that we don't hear the lessons He is teaching to us. God speaks to us through various things in the day. He speaks through music, through His children, and through His word, and through our consciences. But if we tone everything out so we can serve more and more, we totally miss the opportunity of His presence with us.
I feel like I'm all over the place...
So, when I went to Zion Church during one of the Lady's Bible Study, I hung out with two brothers who live on this church compound(alone, no parents. The oldest boy is like 13, and the younger is about 8), and his friend(who is the pianist at Zion). At first we just sat around, hardly talking. Neither of us really knowing how to have a conversation—either because of language barriers or just lack of subjects. But at one point I asked them what they wanted to do, and Adana—the 8-year-old—mentioned wanted to play football, but they had no football. I reminded him of the beachball I brought the last visit, and he seemed to consider it, but the conversation kind of ended. We moved locations as the pianist came until finally he went into their house and got the beach ball and we played football in front of the church office. We didn't play officially at first because there were only four of us, but we eventually added another player so we could play 2-on-2. It was fun, even if I did break my flipflop and had to play on rocky soil barefoot for a little while.
But I'm really enjoying it here. It's fun, and I'm learning a lot about God and myself.
So, my two main things for coming here(or at least my mission plan) was to teach ASL and music. ASL teaching is going well. Apparently her sponsor bought he Signing Made Easy sometime in the past, so she had already been going over that book, learning the signs. Obviously, for learning out of a 2-D book, there were signs not signed properly, and obviously for being an English book, there were words she wasn't understanding but copied. My initial plan was to deal with the book last, but when I learned she had already learned everything in the book, I decided to go off of that and re-teach it all, correcting what needed correcting and explaining what was unclear.
In my classes I started out with Fekerite and her brother Teddy. They both seem to enjoy it. Once I finished the book, I gave them both a test. Fekerite scored 56/75, and Teddy scored 59/75. He was ecstatic for, what I'm assuming, having a higher grade than Fekerite. He was jumping around, smiling widely and laughing/squealing.
I've now added another Foster Home kid, Adana. He seems to enjoy it as well. I'm trying to make these classes more fun. (Any ideas would be appreciated.) I plan on playing Jeopardy with them. I'm nearing the point of having taught them everything they need at this stage, so I just need to build on their comprehension and usage skills.
As for music classes, they're going well, too. I'm just now getting into notes and their rhythms and rests. Grade 3-4 are the most receptive, I think. Grades 5-6 are borderline. There has been an ongoing music class already, so I'm replacing the teachers while I'm here. So these kids have been taught this stuff already, and I think it's evident in what appears to be their boredom level.
But it's all good. I'm enjoying it. They're learning at least a little. And I'm not being tarred and feathered. So pretty good all around.
So, yeah. That's about it. I've rambled on enough about random things. Time to say ciao.
Buahala.
