What Is God Saying to You?

Working here in Ethiopia has changed our lives. I’m not talking about being exposed to a culture that existed and thrived when my ancestors in Sweden and Germany were running around like savages. And I’m not talking about seeing what really being poor means here, where many wake up to an empty larder and have to make do with what they find to eat that one day. No, I’m talking about the quieter life that exists here.

     Make no mistake, we work hard. But at the end of the day, our maid Mowcha makes coffee for us. We munch popcorn, drink coffee and most often, we read. We have the internet, although I just ran out of money again and have to get someone to buy a card and put more money in for me. We Skype family and friends, but eventually the novelty wears off and we just send emails back and forth. Not a lot of effort in that.

     I write some: A little curriculum, a little bit for our blogs, a very little bit for my personal enjoyment. And we talk, but anyone who’s been married for a while knows, you become comfortable in one another’s silence, like right now for instance. Jane’s on her computer playing a card game, I’m here writing this. It’s nice, quiet.

     There are no streetlights here. The night brings its own type of quiet. We don’t have television. We could have, but even back in the states, we became aware of what a narcotic it had become. We enjoy some good shows, but here it seems as though we’re in the show. No need for “Survivor” or Amazing Race” here. We have lots of time to think, to pray, to be quiet.

     It seems I hear the Lord’s voice more often here. Or maybe it’s just because I don’t have all the noise around me, the busyness of life as we think it should be lived in America. I just know that the Lord is closer to us here. It’s us that moved closer, I think, not him.

     What does the Lord say? Well, it’s not so much a voice as it is an aware-ness, a pulse that comes from God and his people; a soul-ful, soul-filling, soul-satisfying sense of being connected to God through Christ and one another. It’s the easiness of walking with little children on the way to school; the wonder in their eyes as they say “Salam” and put out their little hands to shake.

     The Lord lets us learn from experience that we are his children, thrown together with three-hundred thousand other children. Jane and I are two among many. Jesus loves us all the same, even if some of us don’t return the favor. I am God’s child in the company of God’s children. That’s what God’s voice says to me.

The Girl with No Hands

Sometimes it’s hard being a Christian in a place with so much need. Here in the city of Mekele things are really better than in the countryside. There are clinics where basic medical care is available. Now remember that the country of Ethiopia is one of the poorest in Africa, and that’s saying something. The country has no social services, at least not like we understand that term. I sometimes thing that our more conservative brethren should visit here to see what America could be like without the programs they so dearly want to cut. But I digress.

     Birth defects, just like anywhere else, are a fact of life here. More of those born here simply die as infants. Those that do not die, with few exceptions, simply live with their deformities and/or handicaps.
     On the low end of the scale are learning disabilities. Jane and I have spotted a few in kids here at MTA. As far as medication, counseling, other therapies, they simply do not exist here or are available in Addis to people with a lot of money. I have a student in Seventh Grade named Eyoel (Joel) who is clearly hyperactive. I have used common sense helps for him, but there is nothing else. If they don’t work, we just go on . . . possibly without Eyoel. He scored a 74 in Informal English class, so considering what his handicap costs him, he is quite bright. I use prayer and loving disciplines with him, coaching him that there is something he has to deal with that is not his fault, but it is something he must make conscious effort to overcome. Fortunately Eyoel is a boy with a good personality and may well find a decent life for himself.
     Now we come to what I must talk about. I’ve put it off long enough.
     Those familiar with our other blog, Ted & Jane’s Excellent Adventure, know that neighborhood kids greet us every time we walk between home and school. They are out in the street as soon as they can walk. It’s their playground. One of them is a girl of about 10- 12 years old. She has some deformity of her head and jaw that makes her look different from other kids. She wears the same filthy party dress every day. She is quite aggressive and reaches out to touch you if she can. And she has no hands, just a claw on one arm and a stump on the other.
     She follows us, she reaches to touch us. We know what she wants, she’s begging. If you gave to every beggar you see in Ethiopia, two things would happen: you would run out of money and you would have them knocking at your gate every day, all day. Not a practical option.  It is also illegal in Ethiopia to give alms to beggars, but judging by the large number of them, it’s a law that is often broken.
     Jesus loves this little girl. He wants me to love her . . . and I do! I pray for her, but how can I help? She lives with family and might be the biggest source of income they have (that’s not saying much). There are orphanages, but she’s not orphaned. Any encouragement results in her increased attention.
     What do I do? I ignore her. I walk faster than she does. One time I got rid of her by turning to her and shouting at her. Another time I acted as though I would hit her with my case. And just like Little Jack Horner, I say: “What a good boy am I!”
     Now by all means, take this honest comment as a cue to let me know what’s wrong with me as a Christian. That’s the Western Christian way after all. Tell me how I reach out to her like Jesus would. Tell me how by prayer and attention, I can make a miracle and fix her life. Or, if you’re a really good Christian, quote Scripture to me. That’s it! I need a Bible verse!
     Trying not to be cynical, but failing badly, I say that I probable already know the verse you’ll quote. But one thing and one thing only will get me to take your solution to this problem: come here and show me. I’d really like to tie this problem up with a proper Christian bow and then go off and write a book that tells the world how this problem can be solved. Please do. I’m literally dying for your answer.
     The nameless girl with no hands in the dirty party dress is always with me. She will be with me when I travel to London in August. She will return with me to the States when our time here is over. She will, I fear, be with me when I go to be with Jesus at the end of this life.
     We Americans are famous around the world for having the answer to any problem. Sometimes our solutions even work!

WANTED: ONE HANDY, WELL-CONNECTED AMERICAN CHRISTIAN TO FIX THE PROBLEM OF THE GIRL WITH NO HANDS IN THE FILTHY PARTY DRESS.

Don’t wait. Apply now!