Helping a mother in need

I come across people living in dire situations everyday.  I encounter kids every single day that need more food.  I pass homeless people everyday.  Everyday I wish I was able to do more than pray.  Everyday I have the urge to round up a truckload of kids and move them in with me.  But I know that I can not help every single person that needs it.

So it makes me so excited when I am able to help someone who desperately needs it.  I recently have had such an opportunity.  There is a woman that I have grown to love over the past 3 years.  Her and her family had a huge impact on me when I came to visit Ethiopia 3 years ago.  When I was able to move here, she was one of the first women I went to visit.  I love her so and I love her children.

She has suffered with the affects of HIV for a long time and has been very sick at times.   In the past year, she was diagnosed with cancer.  She has really had some scary moments, thinking that she would die.  

Recently, I heard a rumor that she was pregnant so I asked her social worker to take me to visit her because I wanted to find out if this was true.  I didn’t want to know because I was being nosy, I wanted to know to see if I could help her.  Knowing how sick she is I am worried about her and the baby.  I see her often and she is so tiny so I was in a hurry to visit her to see what I could do to help her.

She is in fact pregnant.  She weighs 103 pounds.  We are not sure how far along she is, but our best guesstimate is 6 months.  I was floored when we calculated that.  Like I said, I see her often and the last time I saw her a month ago I thought I saw a baby bump but I never would have guessed 6 months!!

I told her that I am willing to help her in any way that I can.  I am in the process of finding a specialist in Addis Ababa that can help her.  With her having HIV and cancer, there are so many issues to overcome.  

But in the meantime, I am going to fatten her up!!  I bought her 60 eggs, a huge thing of peanut butter, lentils, oats, juice, prenatal vitamins, and other assorted items.  I will check on her each week to see what else she needs.

I think sometimes it’s easy for us to judge people and have thoughts like “You can’t properly support the kids you do have, why are you having more babies?”  But I know her personal situation (which I will not air in public) and I choose to help her because I love her and I want what’s best for her.

Thank you so much to my financial contributors.  It’s because of YOU that I am able to help people in this way.  I am the one that finds people in need, YOU are the one that makes it happen.

Paper Bead Jewelry Project

I am excited about what our ladies have been doing lately.  An income generating activity has been created for some of the mothers in the Blessing the Children International (BCI) program.

A visiting missionary came with the hopes of teaching some of the women how to make paper bead necklaces.  She held a training class for them and they did really well!!  A lot of our mothers have craft abilities and they proved that they can pick up new things very quickly.

After talking with the management committee of BCI we realized that this project could accomplish two things.  If we sell the necklaces for a profit, we can use that profit to raise funds for a new ministry that BCI is working on to help rehabilitate prostitutes.

This income generating project will give the “beaders” a new skill and an income while also raising money to help change the lives of other women that are trapped in prostitution.

The women make the beads at home and then once a week they turn them in for payment.  The beads are then sorted for quality and they receive payment for the quality beads.  Some of our women have been making an awesome income doing this!  It has really changed their lives.

I am happy to see that this is doing so well.  I have seen people try different things to change situations for families here and they haven’t worked.  It is difficult to figure out exactly why something does or doesn’t work and it is really frustrating when people take advantage of opportunities given to them.

This has been going on for a few months now and it has been successful in motivating the women to work for what is given to them.  There are three women that have really gone above and beyond with this and I am excited to see where this project will take them.

Of course, it is still early but we have great expectations for this based on early indicators.  I haven’t seen another project take off so well in the early stages.  Please pray that we can keep this up.

But, it doesn’t stop there.  We now have to sell the necklaces.  We plan to sell them to visiting missionaries, at markets, and in the States.  I will be bringing back quite a few necklaces, bracelets, and rings with me.  

It would help us out if you would be willing to buy a few, but if you are able to help me sell them that would be even better!  There are many different colors, sizes, and styles.  We also have some for little girls.  I have included a few pictures but it is hard to get good pictures.  The price ranges are from $5-$15.

Some of the necklaces

Close up of one.

A ring.

A bracelet.

Needs of the Family

I have a few people in my life that often email asking me what my family or myself needs.  I often post about needs of the ministry or local kids but these friends of mine are interested in what we need.  I have been told that I need to tell people when I have needs, that way they can be filled.  Well, this blog is about the things that me and my family needs:

School fees:

As a family, we have decided that it is best for our kids to go to one of the International schools in town.  Last year proved very difficult for us as a family.  Fiker was attending the school that is a part of BCI.  We support the school and think they offer a great alternative to the public education that is widely offered here.  However, this school is taught in Amharic.  They have English classes built into their schedules but even in those classes, Amharic is widely used.  

Last year was really rough for us.  I wasn’t able to really be a part of the education process.  Even though I understand a lot of conversational Amharic, I can’t read it.  Nor do I understand “educational” terms.  We also need our kids to improve their English quickly, and that didn’t happen last year.  For this reason, we thought it best for our children to attend an English-speaking school.

We are really excited about this new school.  They use a British curriculum and have tons of educational resources on-site.  As you know, most children learn best by using different varieties of teaching other than just lecture.  This school is able to accommodate that.  This is especially great for Fiker as she doesn’t learn well in a lecture type environment.  

The school is expensive for us though.  It is $50/mth per child.  So that means we need $150/mth.  That equals out to $1500 for this year.

Clothes:

I often collect clothes for the kids in the program but now it’s my kids that need clothes.  They all need pants, shorts, shirts (long & short sleeve), sweaters, socks, and underwear.  They need:

Fiker:

Size 8/10 clothes 

Size 4 undies

Size 1 & 2 shoes

Rebirra:

Size 4t & 5t clothes and undies

Size 9 & 10 shoes

Makreab:

Size 4t & 5t clothes and undies  

Size 9 & 10 shoes

Size 11 rainboots

If you would like to help us out with the clothes and shoes, I can get them from you when I am in the States.  Just let me know.

Medical Expenses:

When I come to the States next week I have some medical visits I need to attend.  I have some medical things that can’t be dealt with here so I have to do it in the States.  Between visits, tests, and prescriptions I am looking at approx $1500.

Could you please join me in prayer that these needs will be met?  If you would like to help us out financially, you can do that through PayPal.  Just click the PayPal link on the left hand side of the page.

Thank you in advance for your prayers and your financial gifts.  May God bless you in return!

July Newsletter

I have put together a newsletter for July and you can access it here. Please take a moment to read it and remember these precious little ones in your prayers.

 

Clothes, clothes, clothes!

I am so excited to post this!!  This is a dream realized for me.  It may seem small to some, but it is huge for me.

When visiting missionaries come they always bring a lot of clothes for the babies and small children.  I understand why this happens-they are cuter clothes and they are smaller so more can be packed.  Hardly ever do people bring clothes for the teenagers that I work with.  

This has weighed heavily on my mind for quite some time.  I finally felt God’s gentle voice telling me that I didn’t have to wait for someone else to remedy the problem-I could do it.  So I went online and went on a HUGE shopping spree.  Belk was having a big online sale so I took full advantage of it.  Nothing cost over $7 and most things were around $4.

I ordered 115 pieces of clothing for our teenagers-boys and girls.  My poor sister had the boxes delivered to her house but she was gracious enough to take some pictures for me.  

Some of the brand-new clothes!!

I absolutely can not wait to bring back these brand new clothes for our young adults.  Now. . .how will I get them back here?  Oh well, that is a good problem for me to work on.  :)

Because of the financial support that I receive from friends, family, and church members I am able to do projects like this.  For that I am so grateful and I am so happy that you are part of this project.  Not everyone can go to a mission field far away but everyone can give-whether in finances or prayer.  So THANK  YOU! 

I will post pictures when the distribution happens.

Our family is growing!

So pretty soon we will be a family of 5.  Mussie’s nephew, Makrab, will be moving in with us.  I am not going to go into all of the reasons of why he is not with his birth parents, due to family privacy, but he is in need of a home.  Makrab is 7 years old and will be going into 2nd grade.  Due to health problems early in his life, Makrab looks to be about 5 years old or so.  Rebirra (my 3 year old) is heavier than Makrab!!

Super cute Makrab.

We are all excited about Makrab’s arrival but we know that it will bring some challenges.  He still suffers from some health issues.  Both of my kids are relatively healthy so we haven’t had to deal with any health problems as of yet.  This will bring a new dimension to the family.  

I want to make sure that Makrab feels welcome and not like the “outsider kid”.  We will treat him just like we treat our other children but you know sometimes children perceive things that aren’t necessarily there.

We request prayer during this time as we make a change in our family.  I already had my trip to the States planned (my Ethiopian visa is expiring) before we decided to take Makrab in so I will be gone for 5 weeks while he is getting settled.  One of Mussie’s sisters will be staying at the house to help with the children so we are confident that his transition will be okay, seeing as how he is really close with his aunt that is coming to stay.

For the past two years, when I would look at my future, I saw my house filled with children that needed homes.  I guess it’s coming true.  :)

Thanks for the prayers!

What if we are "the least of these"?

I think Americans have it all wrong.  For the most part, American culture is all about keeping up with everyone around you.  With clothing, shoes, jewelry, houses, cars, looks . . .the list goes on.  Can we really never be satisfied?  Is it really necessary to spend $85 on face cream?  Why do we do it?  Because it makes us feel better, I guess.  

We have 2 kids and we have to have a 4 bedroom house (or bigger).  I mean, where will the guests sleep when they come?  We have to drive a big car.  Goodness, what if we ever need to haul something, we have to have a spare truck for that, right?

I often hear people say that they can’t sponsor a child, adopt a child, or take in a foster child because they can’t afford it.  But yet, we seem to be able to afford to eat out 3 times a week, to get Starbucks every day, to upgrade our car when we don’t really need it.  Those $90 pair of shoes, no problem.

Americans are among the richest people on earth but if we look at the statistics of suicides and those of us that are on antidepressants, it seems we are the unhappiest.  

I have met the happiest people on earth and they are among the poorest.  I have never been with people who are so happy with so little.  People that get excited over the smallest things: things like sewing kits, bubbles, fruit snacks, travel sized soaps and shampoos, socks, and underwear.  And people that not only get excited about it but instantly turn around and offer some of the fruit snacks to the person that gave it to them.

I have been in a one-room dirt hut with an HIV-positive mother and her two children, one of which is also HIV-positive, and have her offer me the last of the food in the house.  I have been with children who have gotten excited and praised God when someone gives them a jump rope or a pair of shoes.  It’s not that they get excited because of the jump rope or the shoes but they are more excited because God answered their prayers.  You see, one little girl really wanted a jump rope and she prayed for one and the next day she received one.  Another little boy broke his shoes at school and his mother fussed at him because she couldn’t replace them.  He told her not to worry because he prayed that God would provide, and he did the very same day.

The Bible warns about becoming rich.  Being rich isn’t a sin but God knew that the richer people get, the more likely they are to rely on Him less.  I am not saying that there has never been a rich Christian that truly relies on Christ for everything, but I am saying that it is rare and it is really hard.

Why do I think it’s hard?  Because we have safety nets.  We have doctors, lawyers, 401k, government assistance programs, college degrees, cars, etc. . .  

Think about it.  If you were a tight-rope walker and you knew there was no safety net beneath you, don’t you think you would pay just a little closer attention to what you are doing?  But if you know the net is below you, you can relax a little.

I think it is similar with faith.  When we get a horrible diagnosis from the doctor we tend to start weighing our options about treatments before we turn to prayer.  Why is it that after treatments don’t work and we are getting sicker and sicker do we then throw ourselves at the feet of God and beg for His mercy?

Most of the families that I have the privilege of spending time with don’t have adequate amounts of food to eat but they always are willing to share it with you.  In fact, it’s more than willing.  They force it on you!  But why do they do this?  Because they believe that they are to share what God has blessed them with.

But shouldn’t I refuse to eat the last of their food, I mean, doesn’t the Bible say that we should help the least of these? It shouldn’t be the other way around.  But what if we are the least of these?  What if, because of our privilege and wealth, we actually are the least of these?  The least of the faithful?  

Prayer is so huge here.  I have never, ever seen people pray like I have seen Ethiopian Christians pray.  I don’t mean short, scripted, routine prayers.  I mean, full out camp meeting type prayers.  And not just once a year at camp meeting but 2-3 times a week.  For example, Mussie’s mom came to our house recently and spent two entire days in prayer.  She locked herself in a room and only came out once a day to eat with us.  You may be asking, what happened recently that she felt the need to have a two day prayer session?  Nothing.  This is her normal.  

Revelations 3:17 says, “because you say, ‘I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing’ - and do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked”.  In this passage, John is talking to the Church of Laodicea.  He was warning them of how they had become luke-warm in their faith.  God despises luke warm Christians so much that He wants to vomit them from his mouth.  This verse is telling us that when we have all of our needs provided for them we feel as if we don’t need anything.  But the truth is, we are in need of Christ.  I don’t think a lot of us walk around with the mindset, “well, all of my material needs are met so I don’t need Jesus” but we live this out by our actions.  We do everything we can to “improve” our standard living here on Earth but do we do everything we can to improve the health of our Christian life?  

I know I don’t.  

One year later. . .

Well here goes.  This blog is going to be personal and that terrifies me.  I am pretty private with my personal life and that’s how I like it.  But God has been challenging me lately to open up about my first year of marriage-to be completely exposed.  This is terrifying because. . .it’s not pretty. . .my attitude has not been pretty. . .my responses have not been pretty.  But, I am trusting God that someone needs to hear this, that someone will relate to my struggles.

Our first year of marriage has not been how I pictured a first year of marriage should be.  I don’t really know what I had expected but definitely not this.  If you forced me to tell you my expectations it would probably just be it should have been a time for us to build a solid marriage, to have no other distractions but ourselves and to concentrate on growing closer to be able to face life's challenges together----future challenges.

But, it was not to be so.  After we got married we lived in the BCI guesthouse where we had no privacy.  Because we were living in the guesthouse people just expected us to be available 24/7.  I don’t only mean the visiting missionaries (that is to be expected) but  pretty much everyone else.  Because we were close people just felt like they could come over whenever suited them.  We were meant to live in the guesthouse until October but around July I couldn’t take it anymore.  I asked Mussie to start looking for a house for us.  Around the same time we decided to start the adoption process of Fiker and Rebirra.

We had originally decided to wait until we had been married for 6 months before we started the process but we started it after only 3 months.  There were different reasons for this but the main one is that we thought the adoption process would take awhile.  You know, 6-8 months or so.  Again, it was not to be so.  The adoption process took 3 weeks.  Yes, 3 weeks.  The day we went to the courthouse we were told we were going for a decision.  We just assumed it was a decision about whether or not a local and foreigner could adopt children together.  This had never been done in our region and the judges didn’t really know what to do with us.  So we were shocked and surprised that the “decision” we received that day was “congrats, here are your children.”  

I remember that we were just standing in the courthouse staring at each other.  I was convinced that there was some sort of “lost in translation” moment happening but it was true.  We were parents.  We then decided that just because they were legally ours didn’t mean we had to move them in with us right away.  They were living in a good place and we wanted to do what we thought was best for them-which was letting them get used to the idea.  But again, it was not to be so.  Even while we were standing in the courthouse the word got out and someone told Fiker that they had been adopted.  I was furious.  I wanted Mussie and I to be the ones to have this conversation with her.  As soon as she was told, she started packing her bags.  What were we supposed to do with that?  Tell a 7 year old “yes, we just adopted you but we don’t want you to come live with us now, you have to wait”?  So we rushed around in the next few days and moved into a new house.  We all moved in on the same day, starting the journey in our new house together.  

The first few weeks were okay.  I knew that God called us to adopt them and maybe it didn’t happen on our time schedule but that was irrelevant, they were living with us.  But the honeymoon period ended and the past 9 months has been rocky. . .so rocky that I didn’t think we were going to make it.

I know that newborns are an incredible amount of work but I have to believe that it would have been easier for me to deal with a newborn than 2 walking, talking (another language!!) children that have expectations of me other than feeding, changing diapers, and snuggling.  I was sinking and I didn’t know what to do.  I felt so incredibly alone.  I don’t really have a great support system here and I don’t have a close friend here, someone to depend on.  Obviously, I have Mussie and he has been so great during all of my meltdowns but sometimes you just need a “soul sister”.  Do you know what I mean?  I don’t have that here and I didn’t really know who to turn to.  The people I thought I could turn to, ended up failing me.

When we adopted them, Fiker was out on school break.  *Side note-we now see God’s wisdom in speeding up the adoption.  If we had done it on our time table it would have been during the middle of her school year.  It was better for her that she not have to deal with that while school was going on.  Anyways, after the first few weeks I was literally terrified for Mussie to leave me alone with her.  I didn’t know what to do with a 7 year old that doesn’t speak English!  Rebirra was easy.  Give him a tonka truck, food, and milk and he was set.  But this little girl actually wanted me to interact with her, for goodness sake!!!

I actually never wanted children so I was so completely unprepared for this new season that God had given me.  I didn’t know what to do with them.  And any small piece of information that I had in raising children required communication. . .I couldn’t even communicate with my children.  So the first few months turned into a lot of waiting until Mussie got home and unloading on him and making him deal with stuff.  I would yell at him about his “never” being home (which wasn’t true but isn’t it amazing how we blow things out of proportion when we are struggling?).  

Somewhere along the way I realized that I didn’t love Fiker.  I loved her in the way that you love all of God’s children but I didn’t love her as my own child.  I started having tremendous guilt about this.  I actually started doubting whether or not God really wanted me to adopt them.  Had I misunderstood Him?  I had been so certain that this was His will (I mean, I didn’t even want children so why would I make this up?) but it was too hard to be God’s will.  I started getting mad at God because He failed me.  I had always heard “If He calls you to it, He will bring you through it”.  That was a load of junk.  He wasn’t bringing me through it, He was letting me sink and sink.  Of course, this isn’t true either but this was my perception at the time.

I had planned a trip to the States before the adoption and I literally couldn’t wait to go.  Not just to visit my family and friends but to get away.  Away from all of the demands of this life that I never wanted.  I remember that when I was in the States people would say things like “I bet you miss those babies so much” and I would think to myself “no, I don’t”.  I missed Mussie so much that it actually hurt but I didn’t miss the kids.  I started having huge guilt about that.  As my return trip starting approaching I was terrified.  Terrified to return to the kids.  I really started questioning God’s sanity.  Why would he want me, of all people, to be these kids mother?  Hadn’t they been through enough already?  Their life was better in the foster home.  They should have stayed there.

I secretly hoped that while I was away things would be terrible for Mussie so he could see how much I was struggling with the kids but of course he adapted amazingly.  When I came back I felt like it was better for them when I was gone.  After all, I was the one that was having all of the issues so inevitably with my return-all of the chaos returned.  

I had a great idea that I would start reading parenting books to help me to figure out how to be a mother.  But this just discouraged me more because apparently most of the ways to be a great parent require communication.  Obviously, I can show love to my children in actions but to raise them to be viable adults that love God and have high moral standards you have to be able to communicate.  I can’t correct them or encourage them because I can’t communicate with them.  So, I quit the books because they just made me angry.

And of course, my return to Ethiopia couldn’t been easy.  The week I returned Mussie and I were called into Fiker’s school and we learned some pretty disturbing things about her.  I had always assumed Fiker to be a very well behaved child.  That is what I always saw when I interacted with her when she lived at the foster home.  I didn’t know she had another side.  She was having a lot of behavioral issues at school.  I assumed this was all to do with her adjustment to the adoption but I then found out that she has always been a child that has behavioral issues.  That was a secret that no one shared with me.  It seemed everyone else knew this about my child, except for me.  

Mussie and I came up with a plan on how to deal with this but this just made her act out at home.  Up until that point she had been pretty well behaved at home but we unleashed a wild child!!  It was a long, horrible road but we have pretty much taken care of it.  Of course, all child make mistakes at times, but she is on a much better road behaviorally.  This all came at a time that I was still trying to “force” myself to love her.  We would make progress and then she would mess up again and I wouldn’t love her again.  That is when I realized that my love for her was conditional.  If she behaved then I felt like I loved her but if she acted out I didn’t love her anymore.

God showed me that this is not love.  I am so glad that He opened my eyes because it has made me appreciate His love and mercy so much more.  What if God only loved me when I was good?  That is a scary thought.

I wish I could say that I have spent all of this time in serious prayer and Bible studying.  But, sadly, that is not the case.  Remember earlier I said I was angry with God?  Well, when I am angry with someone I don’t want to spend time with them.  For about 2 months I went through a time where I couldn’t pray or read the Bible properly.  When I say I couldn’t pray, I mean that I couldn’t pray words.  But sometimes I would just meditate on God and try to reconcile my feelings with Him.

Slowly, I started forcing myself to spend time with Him.  I know that the worst thing you can do when you are discouraged or angry is to push away from Him.  God and I have struggled (actually, I am the only one that struggled) but He has pulled me through.

Through all of this craziness Mussie and I still had ministry to deal with.  A pastor friend of ours in Canada and his wife warned us to not let ministry overtake our marriage.  This has happened at times and we have to remind ourselves that our first ministry is to each other and then to our children.

Through all of this Mussie has been amazing.  He has been thrust in the middle of this family drama and he has handled it so well.  Mussie is such a patient, caring man and I know if it wasn’t for him I would have given up and walked away a long time ago.  I can’t say that Mussie has understood all of my struggles, because he doesn’t understand them, but he loves me anyway.  When I told him I didn’t love Fiker and I regretted adopting them he promised me that we would make it through.  At the time, I wanted to punch him because all I wanted to hear was that he agreed and that it was okay I had these feelings.  He never said it was okay but he said we would get through.

By not having a support system, besides Mussie, it has helped me to rely more on God.  To rely totally on him to get me through every day, every minute.  I know that God has made us for companionship with other believers but I believe He has used this time of solitude to make me see that He is all that I need.

As our one year anniversary neared we talked about how rough this past year has been.  Lots of people have told us that the first years of marriage are the best and then it goes downhill after that.  I pray that isn’t true!  And why should it be?  Surely, God didn’t intended for marriage to be bliss for 2 years and hell for 50!  We are firmly believing that God has strengthened us during this time and has given us tools to fight for our future together.  I would rather have our struggles in the beginning than to have a perfect 10 years and then start struggling.

Lots of people have also told me that marriage is hard and mothering is easy.  That has not been our case.  Our marriage has been good and relatively easy.  Not for one second have I ever regretted marrying him.  Of course we still have challenges but nothing compared to what I have been dealing with in the mothering department!

I pray that this blog is an encouragement for someone that is struggling.  Not necessarily in the same way that I was, but in anyway.  There is too much for me to type here but God has called you to this season for a purpose.  Even if you made mistakes and are now living in the consequences of those mistakes God will use it for His glory.  When you feel as if you are sinking ask Him boldly for a lifesaver and hang on to it.  Don’t grab it and then let it slip through your fingers when you start sinking again.  Hold on tight and hold your head high!

A Blessing for Bereket

Randy and Susan recently came to serve with BCI for a two week missions trip.  Due to limited space at the guesthouse Mussie and I had the pleasure of having Randy and Susan stay with us.  We were really inspired by this great couple of God.  They had an experience with one of the children in our program (I wrote a blog about this sweet girl:  http://jonngirlonamission.blogspot.com/2012/10/baby-with-no-name.html ) and I want you to be able to experience it through Susan’s eyes.  Here is her story:

Mussie and me with Susan and Randy

I was sitting on the sun-warmed rocks outside the Zion church waiting for the evening service to begin when a small posse of unkempt children came straggling into the courtyard. They paused in front of me and I surveyed their little dirty faces. One tiny girl caught my attention. The expressionless set of her face was in direct contrast to the brightly colored dress she wore. Her deep chocolate eyes were blank and emotionless. I picked her up and held her. I kissed her tiny head multiple times and began to trace her features with my finger while she remained closely snuggled to my heart. After awhile she fell into a peaceful sleep. 

Susan and Sleeping Beauty

 When the time came for the service to begin I carried her with me to the church. A lady stopped me and asked " Do you know her story? " I said "No" so she began to describe to me the living conditions of this tiny girl-child. A brothel was her home, her mother a prostitute, "Cockroach" was the name she inherited after her real name was forgotten, and she slept in a bed stained with filth and adultery. She was the girl that Jonnett had planned for me to visit the following week after discovering my passion for enslaved women. 

But the girl-child found me first. 

She was given a new name Bereket and the meaning is "Blessing".  

A few days passed until I saw her again. On our way to a morning service we walked down the red-rock street where I picked her up and intentionally took her with me. Again within moments of being cradled close she fell into a deep sleep. After she awoke I noticed that she rarely made eye-contact with me and I had yet to see her smile, but she remained silent and still, while holding my BCI name tag, she studied my photo over and over again. 

Bereket stole my heart. 

A few days later we were out on a day of home visits, we were walking to our last visit when we came to the bottom of the Red Light District street and I excitedly asked Nigist " Are we going to see Bereket?" She said "Yes". I scrambled to arrange my emotions in those next few minutes of approaching the brothel but I don't believe anything could truly prepare one to appropriately process the conditions of these broken lives. We ducked past a stained sheer curtain, into the tiny bar area, a thin curtain partially concealed an unmade bed and a wooden door stood ajar leading into a darkened back room. We greeted Emebeat ( Bereket's Mother) then sat down on the small wooden bench. A few minutes later a man emerged from the murky back room, followed by a young woman wearing a bright red shirt. Clearly a transaction had just been made. Bereket and a few of her small friends gathered around while four of the working girls lined a bench across from us. As I surveyed the scene before me and rocked Bereket in my arms, the tears began to fall unbidden down my cheeks. My heart bled for the children that innocently believed this was the way life was meant to be lived. And I cried for the sweet girls in front of me who were simply attempting to collect a few birr but somehow remained hopeless and stagnant in a place of disease and dirt. We took out a bright colored shirt, a small doll, socks and tiny boots and gifted them to Bereket. Again, she quickly fell asleep in my arms.

  As much as I wanted to share my heart of love for the women, I couldn't speak through the sobs constricted in my throat so my husband Randy began pouring words of life and hope into the women ( thro Nigist our translator). He spoke of God's love and care for them. He spoke of how God sees us as equals and how precious they are to Him. After abit more chatting, Nigist informed us that Emebeat had called her that day saying she wanted to get out, she wanted to change and she wanted a different job. Nigist told her she had to wait because the prostitution ministry/housing was not yet in place and the logistics needed to be worked out. We prayed with Emebeat, Bereket and the other girls then stepped out of that dark place. I broke down entirely, and as my husband and I walked arm in arm up that sad sad street, I ached to make a difference. A REAL difference. Later that night when asked by Jonnett about the visit, the tears flowed again and I said " I don't care what it takes, I want to get them out. " Jonnett said we could start looking for rooms to rent and there was a slim possibility that in our remaining time there might be a chance of finding a place. With that knowledge I was able to rest and let go of abit of the awful ache that clung to my soul. The next day dawned bright and crisp in true Ethiopian style, and our day progressed like usual. It wasn't until afternoon that Nigist contacted Emebeat to notify her that she should begin looking for a room to rent. I felt restless and truly American in my impatience to have things happen quickly, but all I could do was collect a few items from the donation pile and fill my polka-dot suitcase in hopes of helping to place these things in her new home. Only a mere 2 hours after notifying Emebeat, we arrived at our second home visit of the afternoon and there she was,waiting for us with a shining smile.

  Almost immediately after we arrived she excitedly informed us that she had already found an available place. We decided to go with her to look at the room, so we crawled into the Bajaj and wound back to a small secluded area. The compound was surrounded by a tall green hedge with pink blooming flowers, just through the gate was a small, tidy courtyard shaded by a large sprawling tree . We were escorted to a mud room with a brilliant blue window. 

The interior was decently spacious and smelled as though it had been freshly cleaned. In comparison to the brothel, it seemed to be a heavenly haven and the price was unrealistically fair. We agreed to pay half of the months rent that evening and then finalize details the following day. Meanwhile we had a chat with Emebeat alone in the Bajaj. "What is your plan for your life?" we asked. She expressed her desire to continue to learn how to read and write, to develop more personal skills along with her plans to search for a job, like selling potatoes or charcoal. She ended with 

" I have made the decision to leave and I will never go back. I simply want to follow Jesus."

With heartfelt excitement we informed her that we would like to support her for a little while until she can be self-sustained but ultimately we want her to have abit of freedom to care for her daughter. Parting ways for the evening we agreed to contact her the next day with moving details. Sleep was chased away by my thoughts as I laid in bed that night. I imagined the excitement Emebeat must be feeling. How would it be to know you only have one more night in a place of dark degradation and pain? Only one more night in a bed wrought with semen and diseases? Only one more night on that dark, depressing street? 

"Zion Church Street"

ONLY ONE MORE NIGHT. 

Friday morning dawned clear and full of anticipation. The time was filled with washing and drying my own bed sheets and picking out some of my own clothes to give to Emebeat. A quick trip to town was made to buy a mattress, blanket, floor mat and other necessities. 

Finally we were on our way to pick up Emebeat. She had her few belongings neatly packed up and swiftly loaded. A small crowd of women had gathered to say goodbye to Bereket and her mom.   I caught glimpses of some of the ladies faces, their eyes were laced with happiness yet displaying a deep , deep longing for freedom. I once again began to weep in my own inability to rescue them all. How could I only take one? I wanted to gather them all up and help them to freedom. But instead I held tightly to the small girl-child that was safe in my arms and thanked God that at least this tiny life would be eternally impacted that day. Another stop was made for coffee, sugar, lentils ,spices and a wispy broom and then we were off to their new home. The air was alive with life and hope and laughter! Even the Bajaj driver seemed intrigued and eagerly helped to unload the mattress and small mound of bins and washtubs. Emebeat and I quickly got to work unrolling the mat and fixing the bed.  How was it possible that a small mud hut could feel like a mansion? It did. 

As dusk began falling on the courtyard we prepared to leave, waving goodbye with the promise to return soon for coffee! 

In the meantime Randy decided to surprise Emebeat and build her a bed frame. The next few days he worked on constructing it. On the day we scheduled to have coffee with Emebeat in her new home we added the finishing touches of stain to the bed frame. 

Randy and Susan working on the bed for Bereket

We added a personalized note written in Amaric on the interior boards.   We arrived at their home and found Bereket smiling at the gate! 

I was in awe at the change in both of them. They were both clean, fresh and glowing with joy! My heart was so so happy. Emebeat seemed thrilled with the bedframe and was nearly giddy as she began roasting coffee beans. I sat there not only drinking in the rich, sweet coffee

 but also the amazing changes in the two beautiful faces in front of me.  Faces that initially were expressionless were now overflowing with giggles and fun! Bereket scampered about and played happily on the bright yellow mat. She even threw a small temper tantrum when forbidden to touch something, even in that moment my heart soared because before me was an entirely changed girl. In place of the blank robotic face were the natural emotions and expressions of a normal child. Their surroundings had gone from bleak to bright and suddenly their future was full of a splash of normal and a whole lot of HOPE. 

In the middle of so much desperate need, God broke through the darkness and shone his light into a wounded heart and allowed us the honor of being his vessels to set in motion the change of a lifetime.
The joy of walking through the door of opportunity God opened before us.

The chance to pour love into a woman who was lost in a world of mere survival and sin.

The incredible privilege of embracing the heart of a child and truly being a "Blessing" to Bereket!

Sweet Bereket

The verses below are what I read when I shared at the Women's Bible Study the day after we arrived in Ethiopia. This was before I knew anything about the Zion church/ministry but I was then informed later that night!

It was exciting to see the partial fulfillment of this proclamation:

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on mebecause the Lord has anointed meto proclaim good news to the poor.He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,to proclaim freedom for the captivesand release from darkness for the prisoners,to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favorand the day of vengeance of our God,to comfort all who mourn, 

AND PROVIDE FOR THOSE WHO GRIEVE IN ZION—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joyinstead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.They will be called oaks of righteousness,a planting of the Lordfor the display of his splendor." Isa. 61:1-3

Written by Susan

How powerful was that?  Please continue to pray for Bereket and her mom, Emebet.  Obviously moving them out of the brothel isn't enough.  Emebet needs counseling and rehabilitation so she is less likely to return to the brothel.  Pray for us as we get this ministry running so we can help her and other women to see their God-given potential.

The Worst I Have Seen. . .

Sometimes I think I have seen the worst there is to see of the poverty in Debre Zeit, Ethiopia.  But then I see something new, something worse.  Recently, I was visiting one of the Blessing the Children International’s (BCI) sponsored children.  There was a lady and a baby in the house that I had never met before.  I started a conversation with the woman about her baby.  She told me her baby girl is 9 months old; however, I would have guessed her to be 6 months old.  I noticed the baby had a rather large skin tag protruding from her ear and I asked the mother if it caused pain for the baby and she said no.

I continued with the home visit for the child I went to visit but I couldn’t stop staring at this little baby.  I went for a long walk around the village-the whole time thinking about the new woman and her tiny baby.  When I got back to the house she was standing outside.  I asked her which house was hers and she pointed to a small gate.  I asked her if I could come visit and she said yes.  I walked into the small compound and then she led me into her home.  I stopped dead in my tracks.  

You have to understand that earlier, when I was talking to her about her baby, she told me that she has three other children.  The reason that I stopped immediately upon stepping foot in this woman’s house is because I was trying to understand how four children and their mother live in this tiny place.  

The house consisted of two rooms.  The first room is probably 6x5 ft and the other about 2x5 ft.  I just stood there and looked. . .looked at nothing.  The only things in the house were a small pile of onions, a small cooking pot, two burlap sacks, and a tiny pile of clothes.  While I was just staring, the woman told me that she lives with her mother and sister.  I asked her again-to confirm I understood what she was saying.  I couldn’t fathom her living there with her four children and she has just told me that two other adults live there.  I asked her where they all sleep and she showed me by spreading the clothes and burlap sacks on the floor.

I walked outside because I was starting to feel really overwhelmed and as I walked out, two of her other children, mother, and sister had just gotten back from hauling water.  I asked my translator, Tigist, to help me with the next part of the conversation because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t misunderstanding anything.

Six of the Eight people that live in this house.

We discovered that the sister also has a child living in the home.  That is five children (one of which is a teenager) and three adults living in this tiny house with next to nothing in it.  I asked them how they survive.  They told me that they have a horse that the teenaged boy uses as a taxi in town.  After buying supplies for the horse he brings home about 30 birr ($1.70) a day to support the family.  They use the horse manure to build a cooking fire because they can’t afford charcoal or gas.

None of the children are able to go to school because she can’t afford the tuition, books, or uniforms that are required for school.

This family is the poorest of the poor.  The mother said that she feels blessed that they have a house to live in, that they are not homeless.  But, they only have the house because when her husband was living there he paid the rent.  He recently abandoned the family though so now she is worried about where they will live.

I was able to collect clothes, food, and toys for the family but it’s not enough.  They need immediate help.

You can help by:

*Sponsoring one of the children into the BCI program.  Full sponsorship is $90/mth or you can sign up to be a partial sponsor for $30 or $60 a month.

These are the children that need to find sponsors:

Fasika Girma (girl, 9 months old)

Meseret Girma (girl, 8 years old)

Elias Sintayehu (boy, 5 years old)

Weynishet Girma (girl, 10 years old)

*Sending a monetary donation to help the family with food, rent, bedding, and clothing.

If you would like more information on how you can help this family please email me at jonnettb@blessingthechildren.org.

Ethiopian Orthodox Epiphany

Last week Orthodox Ethiopians celebrated Timkit, also called Epiphany.  This is the day that they celebrate the baptism of Jesus Christ.  The way they do this is really cool.  All over Ethiopia, they start their festivities by taking the ark of the covenant out of their church’s storage.  Obviously this isn’t the real ark of the covenant but each Ethiopian Orthodox church has an “ark of the covenant” that is to represent the real ark of the covenant that is believed to be in Northern Ethiopia.  So anyway, they take out the ark and in each city there is a meeting place.  Each church has a parade through the city on the way to the meeting place.

Mussie, the kids, and I got caught up in one of the parades.  We were out shopping for the visiting missionaries and the only place Mussie was able to park was in the middle of the sidewalk.  He got out to get pictures and I stayed in the bajaj.  Hundreds of people were all around us.  I wish I had a camera in the bajaj ‘cause it was crazy.  The parade of people had to break apart to go around the bajaj and they were bumping into the bajaj.  A lot of people had to stop and talk to the white girl that was caught in the middle of the parade-apparently that was new!  If you know me at all, you know I hate big crowds of people but I had to keep it together ‘cause I had the kids in the bajaj.

So all over the city there are a bunch of these parades, they come from all directions and they all met at the big soccer field in Debre Zeit.  Thousands of people spend the night in the soccer field where they spend their time praying.

Here are a few pics of the parade:

508 pounds of beef!

I am so happy to write this post.  During this Christmas season I felt a bit like Santa Clause as I was able to bless many families with gifts and food this year.  But the biggest thing, the most best thing, is that because of the support that I receive from my supporters we were able to bless 113 families by giving them each 4.5lbs of meat for Christmas!  Yes, that’s right.  I purchased and distributed (and by “I distributed” I clearly mean that Mussie distributed) approximately 508lbs of meat!!!

I am so blessed that I am able to help families in need here in Ethiopia because of my faithful supporters in the States.  Families here hardly ever get meat because it is too expensive for their incomes.  I knew that it would be a huge blessing for the families to receive meat on Christmas Eve so they could prepare dishes for their families.  Kids here are so lacking in protein and iron that I know this meat did them some good.

The families were so happy and excited!  They said that no one had ever thought of that before and they were so surprised by this gift.  Thank you to everyone that made this possible.  I am so blessed that I get to act as your arms reaching from America!!

I promise they were happier then they look here.  They just didn't want their picture taken.  :)

Christmas x 2

Some of you may remember from my blog last year that I get to celebrate Christmas twice in Ethiopia.  Ethiopian’s have a different calendar which consists of 13 months.  They still have 365 days, however, they have broken that down into 13 months.  Ethiopian Christmas falls on January 7th in the Gregorian calendar (“our” calendar as North Americans).  

Mussie and I wanted to celebrate both Christmases together and with the children.  But we really weren’t sure how to do that.  We want them to know both cultures.  I started thinking about how we could introduce “American Christmas” to them and what parts to take and what parts to leave out.  Honestly, it took me a long time to figure out what about the way that Americans celebrate Christmas I wanted to introduce to my children.  There is much about American Christmas that disgusts me.  A lot of it I think is fun and harmless but why would I introduce certain traditions to my kids and skew their perception of Christmas if it isn’t necessary? 

The way most Ethiopians celebrate Christmas is so pure and true and they celebrate for all of the right reasons.  They may give and receive small presents but it is not the focus of their celebrations.  So I wanted to be really careful to not “corrupt” them with silly traditions that mean nothing.  

After much, much, much thinking I realized one of the biggest things that I love about Americans during Christmas is their generosity.  This is the time of year that so many Americans give to others.  Christians and non-Christians get involved with giving.  I realized that I could teach them about compassion and generosity-about giving to those in need.  

So Mussie and I decided to give them a certain about of money and we told them about two families that needed help.  They (okay, this was really all Fiker because Rebirra wasn’t understanding what was happening) were able to bless one of the families with all of the money or they could have split it up amongst both families.  Fiker decided that both families needed help.

We took them shopping and got clothes, shoes, and food.  Fiker said it felt really good to be able to help others.  She seemed kind of surprised that people around her-friends at school, even-lived in such dire situations.  

One of the families the kids helped.

We also decided to give them stockings for American Christmas with candy and small, small gifts.  We also went to spend the day in a neighboring town with friends.  I have no pictures of that.  I had been suffering from insomnia right before that and I hadn’t slept in two days so I really was no fun that day.  I just wanted to sleep.  But I do remember that we had amazing food!

When it came to Ethiopian Christmas I also wanted to make sure that I don’t corrupt them and foster a sense of entitlement and great expectations for every forth-coming Christmas.  It is so easy for me to go overboard with presents because I think they are cute.  Let’s get something straight-God has blessed our family and my kids do not need anything.  They have way too much.  But we did want to give them some presents for Christmas.  Mussie and I decided that we would give them each 3 presents.  Jesus was brought 3 presents when he was born so we figured if it is good enough for Jesus then it’s good enough for our kids.  But we decided to get them 3 normal presents-not 3 over the top presents.  

But as usual with Christmas, one of Rebirra’s presents was more pricey then we had intended for it to be.  My mom got Fiker a scooter for Christmas so we wanted to get Rebirra a riding toy as well so we can go around the neighborhood together and get exercise.  

We gave Fiker: Connect 4x4, pjs, a jump rope.

We gave Rebirra: A matching game, pjs, and a tricycle.

We are really going to try to keep these traditions going.  I especially want to keep the “helping others” tradition going for American Christmas.  

Sometimes it’s not easy incorporating two cultures into everything but we try to figure it out as we go along.

Can we say awkward?

Last week, I was invited to celebrate Natsenet’s 2nd birthday by attending a party at his house.  I invited Dawn and her daughter Chloe to come along with me.  They are in Ethiopia with other organizations and spent a few days with BCI.  So we go to the birthday party and most of the kids from the BCI foster home, one social worker, and BCI’s missionary coordinator were there.  I would say there were 17 of us guests.  At the start of the party, Natsenet’s social worker gave the testimony of this family.  I had heard the testimony before but I always love to hear it.  So here goes:

Natsenet has a nine year old sister that was adopted to a family in America 5 years ago.  After giving birth to her, the mother left the baby with the grandmother and went and lived on the streets.  We were told that the adoptive family and the little girl would be coming to the house to visit. The mom ended up pregnant again with Natsenet.  She returned home to her mother and gave birth to the baby.  Volunteers of BCI went to visit Natsenet because they heard about his dire situation.  During the visit, they started praying for his mother and a demon manifested itself.  A special prayer team was called in to handle the situation.  It was then discovered that the baby was never given a name.  In Ethiopian culture, if a family thinks a baby may die or be harmed they do not name the baby.  It was decided that his name was to be Natsenet, which means Freedom in Amharic.  Nothing is sounding awkward yet?  Well, here it is:

The adoptive family and little girl were scheduled (on purpose) to arrive while we all were there.  Just imagine:  you adopt a little girl from Ethiopia.  You make a special trip all the way across the world to meet her birth family.  The little girl is basically meeting her mother for the first time and reconnecting with her grandmother after 5 years.  You are nervous and excited as you walk up the front walk.  You enter the house and see 17 random people!

The look on the adoptive mother’s face broke my heart.  You could see that she was so shocked at the intrusion of all of these strangers.  You could see her confusion.  After just staring at all of us she turned to me and said “who are you people”?  A bit later, the adoptive father asked me if we knew they were coming today.  I explained that I knew they were coming today, but I had no idea that they were coming while we were there.

I completely felt as if we had intruded on such a special occasion for this family.  I hurriedly tried to get us all out of there so they could spend time with each other and get to know each other.  

Just another difference between our cultures.  Americans feel as if moments such as this should be private but Ethiopians tend to feel that things are to be shared amongst the group-community style.