Thin Spaces...The Sights and Sounds of Ethiopia

When I was in Seminary, I went on my first Mission Trip to a third world country. I was just two years into my marriage, a young 23 years of age, and I had no idea how the experience would change me. My Dad happened to be taking a team from his church to the Dominican Republic and I needed a cross cultural experience for a class I was taking, so it seemed like a perfect match. That trip not only changed my life, but created this passion to serve in third world countries and was the launching pad for all the mission trips I would get to lead at the churches I was a youth pastor at. By the time I was I reached 40, I had taken 2 more trips to the Dominican Republic, a trip to Costa Rica, a trip to Guatemala, a trip to Africa, and of course 25+ trips to Honduras. 

There is something about being in a third world country that feels like home to me. I know that sounds strange, but I have often found myself saying, “I’m my best self here.” They are places that breathe fresh life into me, places where God speaks a little louder to my soul, places where I am challenged, encouraged and inspired. They are places that feel like one of those “thin places,” where heaven and earth feel as though they are colliding right in front of me.

When we decided to take our kids to Ethiopia, I knew that I couldn’t make them feel what I feel or force them to experience what I had experienced. For all I knew, traveling to a third world country could scare them, take them so far out of their comfort zone that they would never travel again, could make them miss the comfort of their home, or they could just complain…all day every day. I had no idea what their experience would be like. Little did I know, they too would come to love all the sights and sounds of this third world country that in the end would steal a piece of our heart. Here are just a few of the highlights of what they loved…

 • They loved the Holy Savior Guest house. They loved the big beds, the comfy blankets, the fact that we all got to sleep in the same room every night. They loved going out on the balcony each morning and waving to the kids that were playing soccer in the street and then running outside the gate and joining them. They loved the eggs that were for breakfast (they still swear they are different than the ones I make!). But most of all, they loved the people who worked there, especially Nardi, the young woman who owned the guest house who was passionate about making a difference in her community. She and her amazing workers loved on Biruk and Madi like they were there own family

 • They loved Zelalem.  Zelalem was our translator and in charge of our transportation, but he did so much more than that. He became our friend. He took us adventuring, kept us laughing endlessly, drank countless macchiatos from Tamoca with us (our fave coffee shop), took us to the most beautiful parts of the city, helped us navigating meeting Biruk’s birth mom for the first time, brought us to the best restaurants and parks, and just shared life. Within 5 days, a stranger became a brother, an uncle, a friend. 

 • They loved the ministries. We knew as a family that we wanted to visit some ministries that were making a difference in Ethiopia, but had no idea the impact they would have. We visited a bread making business that our friend Nardi had created to employ single moms with multiple kids. We visited our friend, Alayu’s ministry, Embracing Hope, which ministers to kids whose moms work in the city dump scavenging through the trash to make a living, and we visited our friend Wana, who founded Moriah Kids, a ministry that provides surrogate family for orphaned children. While those places could have been overwhelming, I watched as Madi and Biruk leaned in and listened, learned to make injera (Ethiopian bread), high fived kids, shared smiles with vulnerable children, and played with kids who just like them had been orphaned. 

 • They loved seeing a world that looked so different from their own. It was the hundreds of people walking on foot to get places, the animals in the street, the scaffolding for the building projects made out of Eucalyptus trees, the people begging in the streets, the man in a make shift shack with a single sewing machine fixing people’s clothes, the piles of bananas and fruits being sold in the market, the men and women creating scarves and bedding on wooden looms with their bare feet, the young boys shining shoes, and the elderly woman carrying piles of wood on their back. Those are the images that will be etched in their minds forever. 

And then there was the day we met Biruk’s birth mom…a story that will require its own post. 

I always knew there would be something special about taking my kids to a third world country for the first time. I knew, because of what I felt on that first trip with my own Dad. To experience one of those thin places, a place where you feel a little bit of heaven and earth colliding, with the people you love most…it changes you. It doesn’t just change you for the moment either. It changes your perspective on how you see the world and ultimately changes how you choose to live your life. Our experiences shape us in profound ways. That last night in Ethiopia as our kids packed up their bags, they begged to stay just a little longer. I think that’s what happens when h