Birthday love

Today began with "Happy Birthday to Joelle..." at 6am, quickly followed by a SOS tradition of throwing her high into the air. Yes, that'll wake you up...

The surprises continued throughout the day... while Joelle was off experiencing her first live football game(our very own soccer team, Harar "Beer" played Addis Ababa "Coffee"... Yay Harar - despite the name) I was making 2 cakes(with Swedish directions might I add??), almost burning the kitchen down, and hand grinding coffee all the way from Peaberrys in Youngstown USA!!

After some of the spiciest Ox and injera I've ever eaten.. we rushed home and set the night for a delightful birthday fika of safranskaka, carrot cake, bananas, popcorn, red, white & blue coffee, candles... delightful :)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY JOELLE!

Next on the birthday list these 2 weeks is Filip.. then Katish.. then my beloved.....

Tomorrow it's just me and my hero...

Wild Appetite

"A worker's appetite works for him, for his hunger urges him on." Proverbs 16:26

Once our food pyramid is aligned with God in the biggest box, we can begin to feed off the other things that satisfy our souls or our mind, will and emotions. We do this through our many unique callings. We do it through giving and loving and living until our hearts are fat, happy and safe in the limitless confounds called dreaming. It is only in our dreams that boundaries are denied access and resources are found to be limitless.

Dreaming big dreams does not mean you’re prideful. A leader once told me, “True humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less so that you can dwell on the dreams of God.” Pastor Kathie Thomas, a prophetic warrior who chases the heartbeat of the King said, “Humility is velvet-covered steel!”

Sometimes you don't know how hungry you are for the supernatural and adventurous kingdom of God until you take your first bite. Reading about the wonders in Acts and the pursuit of the apostles is astounding, but when you begin writing your own pages based upon the events of your day, you obtain an appetite that exceeds any amount of desire you've ever felt. This appetite, in turn, stirs up a roaring hunger so deep in your life that all you can do is look for some sort of satisfaction for the rumbling and that comes when people pray the prayer of salvation, are delivered from demons, begin to walk in joy and receive Holy Spirit.

A wild appetite settled securely in the hand of God has no limits.

Hunger is a natural and invisible anticipation that pulsates so vividly within your veins, making it hard to think. When you can’t give justice to the screaming adjectives of your heart through the jumbled vowels and consonants that are blurrily muttered in tangled chaos while you sit alone praying in your room, you’re hungry. When you feel fidgety even in the midst of success and opportunity, you’re really just hungry. God has created you with this burning desire for thrill and the adventurous journey that comes along. Will you let that desire be satisfied?

Hungry appetites usher in the kind of anticipation that steals away one’s oxygen just before Jack pops out of his box, the anticipation of an expected phone call just before your adrenalin launches you into the air at the sound of ringing. It’s like the burst of a balloon or the terrible sensation of slamming on brakes. It’s overwhelming and all consuming.

Hunger can strike at any age, any location. It strikes within transition periods between one season and the next, when you least expect it and when you’ve been waiting for it with opened arms. It calls to you with screaming whispers saying, “Is this all there is to life? God, there has to be more!” Short snacks in God’s presence will begin to make you sick, squirmy, unhappy and uncomfortable because your spirit man is crying out for intimacy with God. Your heart is longing for the deep-end of His Kingdom.

I believe this hunger hits all of us at one point in our lives, whether we learn to recognize and respond to it or not. God is a God of greatness and adventure and we are made in His image.

When it does hit you, you will automatically begin a search for fulfillment. Will you be fulfilled by the superficial food groups of life? True beauty and fulfillment comes not when you are looking into the eyes of your mirror but when you are looking into the eyes of the nations, the faces of the world.

It’s wonderful to pursue dreams and diverse successes but there is something really special about the pursuit of giving yourself away, pouring the substance of your existence into others. It’s simple. After all, this was the very core of Jesus’ life on earth.

Spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ to the unreached world will fill even the deepest and most agonizing cravings you may encounter. Eating is simple yet profound.

Hunger brings expectancy for greatness, urgency for excellence. It screams for salvation, signs, wonders, miracles and revival. It is the Kingdom of Heaven bottled up inside of you, shaken and near the point of explosion!

Outreach to Jijiga with our Bible students!

Spectacular rock formations in East Ethiopia.. on our way to Somali region

We found watermelon! "'Habub"

Joelle looking EXTREMELY middle eastern and beautiful!

Me and my best in Somali region!

The Somali people are some of the most beautiful in the world!

After 4 salvtations and countless contacts established in such a thickly blanketed islamic area, the bus ride home was exploding with worship! Thanks Jesus!!

Joelle's in Ethiopia!

Ethiopia.. Ethiopia.. land that I love. And now my bestie is here too! It's been an amazing week with her. On her first night in Harar we took her on a hike to see the wildly ugly and famous hyenas of our city. She was brave though. Even fed them raw meat from an 8 inch long stick in her mouth!

We had a big gathering with our our disciples in our house on Friday evening, went to women's house church on Saturday and had a powerful Sunday morning meeting at Harar Church of Joy(where my amazing Samuel preached about the fruit of the Spirit, sooo anointed!) On Sunday afternoon we went to see lions.. what a mighty beast! Seriously, they're like royalty. Not friendly royalty though...

Monday was spent bathing in the golden African sun at our favorite pool in Dire Dawa. Now we have a nice summer glow and my hair is a bit more blonde... so refreshing. Spending this Tuesday with the love of my life until it's time to drive back to Harar for Bibleschool class this evening. Samuel will be teaching about the Trinity!

My mama and daddy called unexpectedly on Friday. What a glorious treat! I'm missing them so. Here are some photos for my mama...

Through the mountains on our way to Dire Dawa

Joelle with Selam... amazing disciple who is now leading the Women's house church!

Me and my man stayin out of the rain :)

Strawberry smoothies. Delightful.

My Naphtali eating mango in the morning sunshine.. my most favorite kid!

Filip taking good care of our guest ;) haha

The backseat of our '75 Peugeot in the mountains..

A missionary

A missionary isn’t a missionary because they have the ability to sacrifice more than the other Christians. Missionaries that become missionaries for the glam and the save the world ministries they think up on paper will quickly fade. Glam looks more like dust on the mission field. Agendas melt and mix with those preconceived notions into mud at your feet. A missionary is simply a missionary because they love Jesus. Maybe that’s cliché. I like cliché. Maybe it’s not complex enough for fundraisers and conferences. But it is what it is. Love. Pure, undefiled, radical love for Jesus that absolutely must touch someone else. A missionary has the ability to take their intimacy with God to the streets with power. They have the ability to be transformed in their minds to mold into any culture at anytime, no matter the speech, the food, the living conditions, the dress, the danger or the hard soil in which they have been called to sow.

Today in Ethiopia, I was in search of fresh bortocan or oranges if you don’t speak Amerinja. While thinking how strange it was that I had been searching for this typically common fruit for two days, I remembered that the city had also been out of gas for several weeks and back at home we had no electricity or water. When you’re a missionary, your entire life changes. The topics of a typical day in the western hemisphere become culture shock when you live in Africa. Despite my scattered thoughts though, I was walking next to Holy Spirit so I wasn’t surprised when my spirit-woman fluttered inside me. Before I knew it, I found myself sitting in the sand.

“Selamnacho..” I began with my typical Ethiopian cheeriness. To any other group of women, my cheeks would have been dripping with kisses and my lips stiff from smiling with such extroverted joy… but these women were different. They were the hardest women I’ve seen on this continent, sitting on the dirty ground beneath the fruit stands and the big walls leading to the old city. They were completely inebriated from the drug kat, which proved its power over them by the bright green stains still clinging to their teeth. Brutal scars outlined their faces like a map displaying the course of their lives. Most of the marks were still fresh. Their legs were fully exposed in the late afternoon glow of sunshine, a sight you never see when you live in the fourth holiest Islamic city in the world. A tabletop of torn cardboard centered itself between them as they played some unrecognizable card game and passed a cigarette between themselves. Only one woman responded to my greeting, the rest never even lifted their eyes.

I felt like I belonged. I longed so badly to pick up some spades and hearts and nestle my way between them. I didn’t need to say so many words, I just wanted to be close. They were the most beautiful women with all their flaws, bloodshot eyes and missing teeth. They must have been teenagers somewhere inside their aged exteriors. They had been through too much to merely be a group of young women. As I did my best to squeeze into their lives for just a moment, a small street boy took the mobile from my hand. He apparently belonged to this group of girls. Another woman with the biggest open wound of them all, just on the corner of her eye, explained emotionlessly that she also had a baby. I wondered where that sweet homeless infant must have been. She didn’t look so concerned though.

For a moment I fought back tears as I imagined where they would be in less than an hour when the sun disappeared. I wondered if their hearts filled with dread the way mine did or was it just “clock-in” for them. I felt like I was under water as I searched for words in their language but none of them held enough love in their definitions to speak out clearly. None of them gave me the ability to open my mouth. I was floating in a tank of desperation without oxygen enough to breathe. I wondered if they had ever heard the name of Jesus. Jesus the Son of God. The sinless Man. The One who would only love them, never take advantage of their souls and bodies. The One full of healing and restoration. The true Creator and Lover of the dreadful lives they sat in.

As I walked away, I let the tears flow freely. Many religious Muslim and Orthodox women stared at me, shocked that I had lowered myself to the “bad girls” level. I only continued with pride. I was overflowing with love and desperation all at once… like Romeo and Juliet must have felt, or a best friend who loses their only confinement. It was the love, desperation and heart of the Father for the unreached. For the ones who don’t care enough to even hide who they are or what they do… the ones who reek of sin, rage and pain.