Life in Africa

pure & genuine religion

I already loved Food for the Hungry. But seeing their work firsthand only made me respect and admire them even more. FH believes in child-focused community transformation. They measure the health of a community by the health of its children (I'm talking about physical, emotional, spiritual, and psychological health). And then by meeting the children's needs, they empower and build entire families and communities.

Seeing what that actually means—meeting their staff, talking with children and families they impact, and hearing from leaders in the communities they serve—left a lasting impression on me.

FH does things right.

They focus on people, meet needs holistically, do things with excellence, and bring lasting change. And they do it all without fostering dependence.

They go in to each community with an end-goal and an exit strategy. They aren't there to be a crutch or even to provide hand-outs. They build capacity in both people and communities, leaving them self-sustaining and thriving.

I really was astounded to see the depth of Food for the Hungry's work. They have over 430 staff members in Ethiopia alone. Oh—and only two of them are American. Their staff are so loved in the communities where they work. Countless children and families raved to us about their FH social workers.

One woman, who cares for her orphaned niece, said, "God has brought Food for the Hungry to us. I have brothers and sisters, none of whom even gave a pen to help this child. But FH provides her school fees and supplies. Glory be to God, FH has helped us a lot."

FH runs as deep as it is wide, leaving a life-changing impact on individuals and communities.

One of their slogans is "We go to the hard places". And they definitely do.

We visited some remote villages that face seemingly insurmountable challenges. But FH is there, making a difference and working with the most vulnerable of children who live in inescapable poverty.

They are living out James 1:27—

"Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress..."

Let's live it out with them.

{Pictures by David Molnar, photographer extraordinaire and pun-master.}

a heart full

I'm sitting here staring at this blank screen, shaking my head. The task of finding intelligible and adequate words to describe this amazing day is an impossible one. My heart is fuller than the day was.

Filled with beautiful faces...

hugs with countless children...

...and heart-stopping moments.

The highlight of today was my time with Chaltu, Nathinael, and Aklilu (my sponsored children). You guys, my heart felt like it was going to burst! I need to save those stories and pics for when I have time to process a bit more, but believe me, I am anxious to share them with you! Suffice it to say... my kidlets are even more incredible than I already knew them to be.

{Prayer point: I had another minor gall bladder attack this afternoon. Thankfully, the emergency meds kicked in fast and kept it from getting too bad. I'm feeling tired and tender from it, but otherwise okay. Thank you for continuing to talk to Him about me and my lovely gall bladder.}

I wish I could bottle up all the sights and sounds and experiences of today so you could just uncork it and share in all of it with me.

Every single moment dripped with wonder, hope, and joy. God is doing amazing things in Ethiopia, and I feel incredibly humbled to be here to catch glimpses of His handiwork.

My heart aches to know that over 1,000 children in these communities are still waiting to be sponsored. Praying for hearts to be stirred to help...

Sponsor a kidlet in these communities >

hope. strength. resolve.

Teresa is 13.

We visited her today at her tiny, windowless home in the village of Adami Tulu, where she lives with her mom and younger sister.

Her eyes are bright and animated, and she has a beautifully shy smile, always glancing her eyes downward and bringing her fingers to her face.

Her clothes are tattered; the red scarf wrapped around her hair is worn and weathered. Her home is simple... dreary even. But Teresa and her mom exude such hope. Strength. Resolve.

It's evident in their eyes and in their words.

Teresa's mom shared about the challenges she faces—like paying rent for their home—but also about the support she receives from Food for the Hungry. She talked about Abraham, their FH social worker, and what a gift he has been to her. She described him as being like a father figure in her life. She finally feels as though she has someone who cares about her and looks out for her, and that is a priceless gift. Hope. Strength. Resolve.

Teresa has been in the Food for the Hungry sponsorship program for 5 years.

When we asked her about her sponsor, she ran into her house and came back out with pictures, cards, and notes she's received over the years. She proudly showed us her sponsor family and told us how grateful she is for the education she receives because of them. She said when she finishes her schooling she'd like to become a doctor and build her mom a new house. Hope. Strength. Resolve.

When we asked Teresa what she might want to say to people in America, she didn't hesitate.

"There are so many children in my village who have never even seen the inside of a classroom. I want them to have the same help and support I've received, the same opportunity to get an education."

Hope. Strength. Resolve. I love seeing the ways sponsorship infuses those life-changing gifts into children and their entire families. Makes me want to be more intentional in my relationships, because I want my life to always build hope, strength, and resolve in others. I've seen what a difference it can make.

If you feel like Teresa was talking right to you, take a look at some of the kids you can sponsor in her community.

{Photos by the amazing David Molnar}

expectancy

I recently had a great conversation with some friends about the difference between living with expectations and living with expectancy. And this trip thus far has been a clear and candid object lesson in exactly that.

 

Prior to coming, I had to purposefully choose to let go of any expectations I may have had in terms of preconceived ideas about Ethiopia and what I would experience here. And since I headed to the Nashville airport around noon on Monday, I've had to let go of any expectations that may have lingered in terms of that ever-taunting illusion of control. As if our well-mapped-out plan was more important than whatever journey God wanted to take us on.

We've gotta drop expectations and embrace expectancy.

 

The six of us travelling from Nashville became very adapt at rolling with the punches. We even managed to do so with good attitudes despite being deliriously tired. I really think it was because we were able to let go of that clenched-fist grip on what we thought would and should happen. We knew deep down that God was up to something, even when it made no sense to us, and we were able to cling with joyful hope and expectancy to Him. Not to a schedule. Or to an itinerary. Or to an airline agent. But to Him.

 

Mechanical failures, delayed flights, and airline errors derailed our simple travel plans and turned them into an epic few days of country-hopping. And tonight, the adventurous journey finally had us touching down in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.

 

A day late, with unexpected stops in Ghana and South Africa, we finally made it. Exhausted. Dirty. Even a bit sick. But we are here. I am pretty excited about the shower I'm about to take and the bed I'm gonna sleep in after two nights on airplanes. And my heart just keeps swirling with that word expectancy.

 

I'm choosing to lay down any expectations I may have about my tomorrow and to place my expectant hope in Him.

Because He is in control.

And He is good.

And that is all the expectancy I need to live each moment with.