So after that moment of confession and whining, I will return to my journaling. . .
Sunday, which just happened to be Valentine's Day, was a day I continue to discern.
We had the awesome opportunity to attend a local church. Kristen was invited to join a family she has spent much time ministering to, and they were kind enough to include us in that invitation. (We did not attend church at Jemo.) We were excited about and honored by this invitation.
We arrived to church a bit late. Tsige told us, "Church not always start on time. It sometimes go all day. You not like to stay that long."
When we arrived we could feel the music pounding from half a block away. Think hard rock concert for Jesus. Chad would have been in his glory.
I had planned to slip in as quietly as we could, and take a seat in the back of the congregation. Tsige had other ideas...
She marched us right in front of the stage! As we walked in, people quickly rose from their front row seats and gestured for us to sit in their place. UGH!!! That is not in my comfort zone. I want to serve, not be served. I want to quietly observe, not be up front and center. . .
As worship continued the volume was unfathomable. The music was pounding in my chest, and the volume of the voices singing made my ears ring. There was movement everywhere - jumping, dancing, hands raised, clapping. It was beautiful.
It was also a bit hard to join in fully. I could not understand the lyrics, though I had asked the Lord if He would allow me to understand Amharic miraculously if even just for the hour of church. And I was keenly aware of all eyes being on us. Similarly, my eyes were equally wide, trying to take it all in.
It was HOT. Sweaty, stinky hot.
The "building" was a bit tent-like. There were some solid parts with a wide gap in the wall for airflow. It was a very good design for the climate there. About half of the congregation sat on plastic chairs. The remainder stood in the back. It was a very full service in a very large space. I would estimate more than 500 people were in attendance.
After the worship music was completed, the congregation sat. Soon after we sat someone delivered a bottle of water to each of us. ("us" being their white guests) That was another hard moment for me. I know there were many thirsty people in the room. Many of them would not be able to afford a bottle of water, yet I was being served.
(I know this was done as a sign of welcome and respect. I truly appreciate the gesture, it just also makes me squirm with discomfort.)
A time of prayer followed worship.
This was not the quiet, passive time of prayer of which most of us are accustomed. This was vibrant, noisy, enthusiastic, expectant, demanding, intense prayer.
As people came forward asking for healing the congregation expected healing. Not someday. But right them.
There was trembling, falling down, yelling. . .
This was active, living prayer.
To be honest, I had a love/hate relationship with the prayer part of the service.
I love and admire and can so learn from expectant, active, believing prayer. I think that all too often, I pray as an after thought. Once I have done all the fixing I can do - which is quite a lot, I have access to medical care, tons of helpful information which can fix many of my troubles, and many other resources to which I often turn - and if all that fails, then I seek the Lord. (Sure, I know better. And sometimes I do better. But if I am totally honest, many times I do all the fixing I can before I even consult the true Healer.)
And there is also a part of my soul that squirms about this type of "in your face" prayer. You see, the family that invited us to this service is the recipient of a "healing." Their boys suffer from a nasty medical condition called EB. It is a chronic condition. It does not go away, but it can be managed with medication. The Pastor at this church prayed over them several months ago, and he deemed them "healed." He instructed the parents to use no more medical intervention. God was the only healer they needed, he said.
Everything about this topic makes me unsure.
I know and believe that God CAN miraculously heal people. Nothing is to hard for Him. Nothing.
At the same time, maybe just maybe, the miracle in these boys' life is that they have access to medications that will keep them more comfortable? The likelyhood that two impoverished children in Addis Ababa would be supplied with FREE and plentiful medications to help them IS truly miraculous.
At the moment, we see much healing in the boys. They are lighter of spirit. They are more confident. They are more content. BUT - we do not see physical healing. Their bodies remain covered with the lesions that are a part of EB. In my viewpoint, refusing medical care in unwise. Or is my lack of faith unwise?!?
There is not much about this world that is black and white. I wish there were.
There is much about the healing that is happening in that church that I do not understand. However, what I do understand is that God does heal. He is Able. He is worthy of our first and best. He can always be trusted. And if I had God and only God to cling to (instead of all the doctors, information, etc. . .) my life and faith would be quite different.
I count no one "wrong," I simply, humbly continue to seek the Lord on this subject.
Anyway - the service continued with a sermon and then more prayers. Oh, how I wish I knew the language! I tried to understand and once in a while I heard some words I recognized or thought I understood the gestures, but most everything went right over my head.
A couple funny notes - there were several people taking video and photos of us all through the service. A little guy behind me kept spitting into the dirt, making a nice little "lake" for him to play in, much to his mother's annoyance. After the service the Pastor asked us to stay so he could have a photo with us. Talk about white privilege!
After church we, along with our Ethiopian friends, all piled into the van. There were 20 of us in a 12 passenger van. It was a good thing none of us are shy!
We got back to the guest house and enjoyed the chickens which had been magically transformed into doro wat by the very talented Tsige! (Good news for me here - my girls deemed my doro wat very similar to Tsige's. I actually got a thumbs up!!! In fact, since I am heavier on the doro (chicken) they preferred mine! However, if I had to butcher the chickens for my doro wat, it would not have any doro in it!)
We spent a lazy couple of hours hanging with our Ethiopian friends turned family. Much of that time was spent with them looking through our phones, viewing all of our photos and video. They would point and ask questions. It was fun. You can learn a lot about someone based on what they have saved on their phone! They could not believe that I am a grandmother, bless them! They said, "You?!? Grandmother?!?" and laughed and laughed. Sierra and Brenna received a quick dance lesson. They reciprocated by teaching a few American dance moves. It was an afternoon spent laughing!
As the afternoon came to a close, we enjoyed "real" Ethiopian buna/coffee meaning it was roasted in front of us, with incense burning, and then boiled in a traditional jobena pot on a little charcoal cooker. It was served in tiny cups with lots of sugar.
YUMMY!
The afternoon ended with a series of photos, hugs, and handshakes.
It was a precious time for me. It felt relaxed and normal. My family has lazy afternoons spent chatting and laughing often. It was really special to experience the same while in Addis.
After we dropped our friends back at their home, we went on a little shopping excursion!
It was Valentine's Day, and because Ethiopia exports many, many roses AND I had never seen one, I wanted to buy some roses. Every Valentine's Day, Chad brings each of his girls one red rose. He could not fulfill that this year, but I could try to in his place.
We headed to the grocery store. There are a few grocery stores in Addis which feel familiar to this Westerner. They have carts, aisles, refrigeration, and all the sections we are used to - produce, dairy, bakery, deli, etc. . . They also have fixed prices. High prices, but fixed! They did NOT have roses though. They had already sold out.
We decided to go to Cupcake to purchase cupcakes to share with everyone instead. As luck would have it, next door to Cupcake was a small floral shop! In the end we got both cupcakes and roses.
Our evening ended with a cellphone lit meal. . . the power was out.
Ethiopian romance?!?
