The Gospel is alive.

As I stroll through Sendafa, I'm greeted by many hungry, poverty stricken faces. All of which have a huge grin and an out-stretched hand. I take the hand and say hello in one of the few Amharic words that I've learned. As I stand there a small crowd of children begins to form, everyone saying hello and asking me my name. I respond to them, "Sime Ryan no." They giggle a little bit at my clearly poor Amharic and all respond with their names. I say the names about 3 or 4 times each, every time getting further and further from the correct pronunciation, but they don't mind. One of the older boys knows a little bit of English and we start up a conversation. He asks me where I'm from, I say America, to which several of the kids ask if I can take them with me. I explain that I cannot to which there is little complaining, except in my own heart. I stand there talking for a while and taking photos and showing them their photos to which there is a great amount of excitement.

I notice that the rest of my team have already moved on, and I'm left alone with my entourage of kids. I motion to them that I need to go towards the rest of my group but they are welcome to come with me. So I begin to walk through the dust-filled streets of Sendafa with a crowd of children all anxiously trying to grab my hand. I wave to a few other shop keepers and people along the streets, they wave back with a smile. I begin trying to think of a deep spiritual parallel to the situation. Yet I'm taken aback by the moment. Here I am trying to relate this to something when the most important thing is to simply be with them. Simply being with them should be enough of a lesson in love than anything else. This line of thought though takes me to Jesus walking the streets and allowing the children to come to Him. People often begged Jesus to heal them or for some sort of help and He always provided what they needed. Here I am, a man walking through Sendafa with very little and certainly not able to give what these kids need to truly be provided for. I am helpless, all I can do is simply tell them a few phrases that God is good and that I'm glad to have met them. Despite all that, they continue to walk with me and keep me company. My time with them reminds me of God providing for every need and that without Him we are helpless. Their smiles display God's compassion and love, and their faces mirror God's as he looks in wonderment at His creation.

I can do all things through whom?

Sitting in the home of Abarash-Hale, I simply talk with her through the aid of my translator Agretu. She has lived in Sendafa for 13 years, she moved here from the southern part of Ethiopia in the attempts to better her life. She is the mother of 5 sons and 1 daughter, three of which have progressed through school quite a bit and have learned a good deal of English. The home we are sitting in is clearly one of the wealthier homes here as it has furniture and several small electronics. By our standards however, the dirt floor, mud walls, and tin roof and door would of course be considered intense poverty.

I talk with her children, who while a little shy allow me to learn more about them and their lives. The older son leads the youth group at church and has been studying hard in school. His brother and sister are both in the choir at church and all three have made it to at least 10th grade, the daughter has actually reached 12th grade which is quite the accomplishment in this town. Our time with them is relaxed and enjoyable. We ask them how we can pray for them and they tell us several things. They want success in their education in combination with a life transformation so that they can be a blessing to Sendafa, to Ethiopia and to the world.

I begin to think about that statement. They want to be a blessing to the world. Not just their country or even continent, but the entire world. They want God to give them the strength to do so. they are relying on him to achieve this through them, not their own abilities or circumstances. I'm surprised by my reaction because it is one of an almost patronizing skepticism. I know in my heart that they can't rise out of their poverty and affect the world.

Now I have always had similar aspirations. I know that I can affect the world. That I can somehow reach others and make a difference. The reason why however is because I know what I'm capable of. I know the abilities that I have, the opportunities that I've been given and the advantages that are inherent in my life. Throughout my life, I've always known my limitations. I've been able to accurately predict whether or not I will succeed at something. The problem in all of this is that I'm relying on myself. I'm relying on my own circumstances and abilities to change the world. In doing this I am limiting God in his ability to work through me. If I rely on my own strength then I will never be able to do the things that God can do through me if I merely step out of my comfort zone.

I'm reminded of my last trip here when I came away feeling as though I were the "least of these" in a spiritual sense. That my knowledge and understanding of God was childish in comparison to those who know God here. Abarash's family may not have the opportunities that I have or the abilities that I have been blessed with, but they have already succeeded in their goal of being a blessing to the world. Now I know that with their hearts relying on God for their strength, they will continue to be a blessing to the world. It is my turn to now follow their example and not allow my own abilities to limit God's work in my life.

Content?

I typically would describe myself as content in what God has given me. I was challenged recently however to really look at that and see if I'm content because God is in my life and has filled all my needs or if I'm content because I have all the things that I need. I was in D.C. recently and was overwhelmed by the homelessness there. They were in utter despair everywhere I went. It was a cold night and they were bundled up in the doorways trying to stay warm in the midst of one of the coldest nights of the week. I gave what I could but it was clearly not enough. I couldn't imagine what they must go through being in this cold every day from not having a warm bed to being unable to getting a hot shower and curling up on the couch for the night. It was just a humble experience and made me thankful for what I have.

Just a few days later I was back at the Ranch and was about to take a shower when I realized that we had no running water. I was a little stunned at first not having something that I've had for so long. As the day wore on, the inability to have running water began to annoy me tremendously. I was upset that I had to go without a shower and had to search all around the ranch just for a working bathroom. It wasn't more than a week since I had been in D.C. surrounded by the homeless there and in just over a week I'll be on my way to Ethiopia, the second poorest country in the world where most people there have no access to a bathroom and certainly not running water. I was relieved later that night when the water was fixed and I was saved from this annoyance.

The next morning we discussed Phillipians 4:10-19 where Paul is talking to the church at Phillipi about how he is able to be content in his circumstances and to be able to feel hunger and plenty and remain content in Christ regardless. It was a definite shock to my system. I was left thinking about how my peace rested on the comforts that I take for granted. I don't think I had ever thought about not having certain luxuries before. The good thing about this however is that it afforded me the opportunity to reflect upon it and change the true foundations of my peace so that I can truly be content in Christ.