Little Fish

By the way, Eliza is desparate to know who won the Super Bowl, so she can tell Benjamin, who is equally desparate to NOT know until he can watch the game. I found out, but I think it is funny to watch them struggle in this way.

Though we continue to do well, we feel like fresh water fish (think 6 little minnows from a Sugar Hollow stream) being placed in a vast salt water ocean - the air is really hard to breathe – the pollution is intense;  This world over here seems unfathomably big and dusty with a variety of peoples and customs we lacked the imagination to consider; just beyond the walls of this school are (literally) hundreds of thousands of people who live in tin, tarp, or cardboard homes with no electricity, running water, or sanitation – they come to the car windows begging for anything a foreigner might give – and though there are likely organized rackets where the vulnerable (women and small children) or the severely disfigured are “monetized” for collections, one cannot always rationally turn away. We found a ministry that provides “meal tickets” and these we give to the children (a meal is 1 “Birr” about $.07) – this help us feel better - a bit, but we get easily overwhelmed and try to hush ourselves and our longings to get the heck out of here. Julie and I now read scripture as one might drink water when thirsty, not that we didn’t read it before, but now we are without our many crutches, comforts and forms of distraction – it is indeed terrific news that ours is a suffering God but one who has a plan to wipe every tear, make every sad thing become untrue, and to redeem us all. Such a thing cannot come soon enough, but alas, ours is also a God of waiting. We stare at our fallen world (how can it be that both Charlottesville and Addis Ababa are both on the same planet?) and feel hopeless for these people, and hopeless for our ability to do anything of lasting value here. Whose idea was it to drop six minnows here?!!

Well, to a hammer everything looks like a nail. To the materially and comfort rich, everything looks pronouncedly materially bereft and painful. Though there is no denying there is real pain and poverty here, it is not the whole story and what we don’t see easily is our own spiritual poverty, and the destitute Ethiopians’ vast resources of spiritual strength and mental ingenuity – Gerry rigged wheel chairs, carts, 1950s and 60s cars (VW bugs, Fiats/Ladas, Toyotas – my driver told me yesterday, laughing “In Ethiopia, a car can never die.”). It is humbling to see what these people can endure, and yet they have measures of joy with their families, their friends, and their neighbors that we often just pretend to have.

The value of Julie’s teaching notwithstanding, I am beginning to doubt if I will be able to accomplish that much over here:  “MMMM, Jonaton, you have minny ideas, but it may not be pussible – we will see, but we are hoppy you have come.”

Nevertheless, it is clear to me this experience is going to “leave a mark” on us – at least I hope it does; how lasting, I don’t know. It is difficult to underestimate our ability to hide unpleasant things from ourselves. As I have said from the outset, I hope that this trip is far, far more than just a “learning” experience or adventure for the Bakers – that somehow God redeems us and the expense of this trip to the Glory of the Church. Big "ask" I know...we’ll see.