As I sit on my bed, in my quiet house with nothing but the
clicking of my fingers and rotating of the fan, I can’t help but take a deep
long breath. After 24 hours of…well let’s just call it quality time with my
shintbet (toilet in Amharic) the last thing I wanted to do was go traipsing
through the Kore area all morning visiting people in their homes.
I know what you might be thinking, how can this girl be a
missionary? She doesn’t even want to visit people. But stick with me. I promise
it’ll get better.
I grabbed my chuck taylors, a bottle of water, threw some
PB(pepto bismol) in my pocket, put
on my sunglasses and set out to do my best to put a smile on my face. As we
left my compound and made our way for the main taxi road, I felt this immense
release of sickness and increased strength. Something I haven’t known for a
couple days.
We began our 20 minute walk into the Kore area, or the
streets of Jesus as I like to call it. I have never been able to truly picture
how it was while Jesus was alive, until I walked down these roads. Children
come running and screaming and want to just say hi and touch your hand because
you are white; then run away with a smile from ear to ear because the forenjee
just said hi and touched their hand. You see lepers lying sprawled out on the
ground, walking on their hands or begging for money. At any given moment you
can feel the stares of 20 eyes upon you, watching your every move.
As you enter into the “neighborhood” you become extremely
aware that you aren’t in Kansas anymore. The homes are about 6x6 foot mud huts
with a piece of metal to shield from the rain and sun. The smells of bodily
waste running down the walkway, injera cooking and freshly laid donkey
“presents” are enough to make you want to vomit. But quietly you cover your
nose and breath as little as possible from your mouth.
We made our way from house to house. It wasn’t until the
second home that I became aware of this overwhelming joy in my heart, a joy
that has never been there. Home visits have always been rough for me. I’m
germ-a-phobic and believe not only in God, but bleach and hand sanitizer.
Seeing the conditions these people live in makes my skin crawl and completely breaks
my heart. A small part of me wants to avoid home visits at all costs because of
the reminder of just how absolutely poverty-stricken these people are. But
today, today was different. Like I said before I found absolute joy today. As I
prayed over a woman who has ovarian cysts, knowing she will never be able to
pay to have them removed, I felt the presence of God. I became so overjoyed
with watching how God is transforming these women’s lives, how knowing him
makes them so addicting to be around. They understand what it means to come
around those who are sick and spend time creating relationships. They aren’t in
a rush. They take time to appreciate what they do have and glorify God for it.
I fell so deeply in love with this ministry today. So deep
in love with how God uses us, ordinary people, to do His extraordinary work in
His timing.
Oswald Chambers once said, “It is ingrained in us that we
have to do exceptional things for God, but we do not. We have to be exceptional
in the ordinary things of life and holy in the ordinary streets, among ordinary
people-and this is not learned in five minutes”
