Back in July, the three of us went to Ethiopia with a team from our church. This was my first time to Ethiopia. Micah had gone on the team the previous year, and Steve had gone on a scouting trip a couple months before. I wasn't really nervous, having lived in Kenya a long time ago, and having lived in India for years.
Our team of Americans joined with a team of Ethiopian believers who were ready to go out and share Jesus with Muslim communities. We had two Americans and an Ethiopian translator and an Ethiopian disciple maker. The disciple maker was from the community and had already planned homes we would be going to. They would also be the ones to follow up with any who wanted.
Micah and I were teamed up the first week along with our two Ethiopian men. I was excited to get started. First we went to a hut that belonged to a believing family. Then we went with the home owner to his neighbor, who were Muslim. We were able to share with them about awareness of human trafficking and also the good news of how Jesus is the perfect sacrifice for our lives. Then we went to a third house. This small, dark hut was only lit by a cooking fire in the middle. It was raining outside so it was dark and dank. We couldn't see the faces of the people we shared with. We had finished sharing the human trafficking information and I had begun to share the good news, when there was a commotion outside the hut. A man was angry. We didn't know what he was saying since we don't know the language. I stopped talking and we all sat in silence. One of the men in the hut got up and went out to talk to the angry man. The door slammed as he walked out. Our translator said to us, "It's okay." I didn't know if I believed him. The voices outside continued in anger. Our translator said, "I think we should go." We gathered our things and headed out. As we hurriedly walked away with a man speaking harshly at us, Micah was worried about me. He was thinking of protecting me. I was thinking of acting like I wasn't scared so that Micah wouldn't be scared. The truth is, we were both scared and wanting to protect the other.
And this is the first time that my son took the roll of protecting me. I realized that he is now grown up. My sweet, little baby boy is a man. At that moment, with an angry, drunk man chasing us away, I was hit with the realization that my boy was a man.
Our team of Americans joined with a team of Ethiopian believers who were ready to go out and share Jesus with Muslim communities. We had two Americans and an Ethiopian translator and an Ethiopian disciple maker. The disciple maker was from the community and had already planned homes we would be going to. They would also be the ones to follow up with any who wanted.
Micah and I were teamed up the first week along with our two Ethiopian men. I was excited to get started. First we went to a hut that belonged to a believing family. Then we went with the home owner to his neighbor, who were Muslim. We were able to share with them about awareness of human trafficking and also the good news of how Jesus is the perfect sacrifice for our lives. Then we went to a third house. This small, dark hut was only lit by a cooking fire in the middle. It was raining outside so it was dark and dank. We couldn't see the faces of the people we shared with. We had finished sharing the human trafficking information and I had begun to share the good news, when there was a commotion outside the hut. A man was angry. We didn't know what he was saying since we don't know the language. I stopped talking and we all sat in silence. One of the men in the hut got up and went out to talk to the angry man. The door slammed as he walked out. Our translator said to us, "It's okay." I didn't know if I believed him. The voices outside continued in anger. Our translator said, "I think we should go." We gathered our things and headed out. As we hurriedly walked away with a man speaking harshly at us, Micah was worried about me. He was thinking of protecting me. I was thinking of acting like I wasn't scared so that Micah wouldn't be scared. The truth is, we were both scared and wanting to protect the other.
And this is the first time that my son took the roll of protecting me. I realized that he is now grown up. My sweet, little baby boy is a man. At that moment, with an angry, drunk man chasing us away, I was hit with the realization that my boy was a man.
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