Today has been an unusual day – one I am confident that I will never forget.
I finished the second day of the Truth Conference here in southern Ethiopia feeling very weary and a little discouraged and frustrated. African culture is sometimes very difficult for American’s whose lives are dictated by time. Even though I have been coming over here for 9 years and feel like I have come a long way in adjusting to the differences in how our cultures treat time, today has been particularly difficult for me to handle. Maybe because Ethiopia is so much more westernized than many of the other places we have been in Africa, there is an expectation of things being different—but they aren’t. I needed something to get my mind and heart back on track, I needed to remember the reason we are here.
Benyam, one of our lead trainers in Ethiopia has set up this conference in his home city of Awassa and his family invited me to come over for coffee. I must say, with the fatigue and discouragement of the day I was struggling. I genuinely wanted to meet his family and see where he grew up but I was just so weary. It was hard to find the right frame of mind.
We drove through the city weaving our way through the hand-made, flatbed donkey carts that were pulling young men standing on their various cargo. Sort of a cart surfing thing happening. In addition to the carts, the streets are congested with taxi vans as well as these three-wheeled, convertible, golf cart looking taxis. Maneuvering through all of this is an adventure in itself. After a while we came to a street with green painted corrugated tin sheet fences on each side that had doors cut into them. The taxi we were in stopped in front of one of the doors, we left the taxi and entered behind the green tin fence. In the fading light of dusk, I could see a hard-packed dirt yard with a clothes line strung across. A woman was hanging out clothes.
I looked further into the closed in area toward the house and sitting on the porch were three old men. As I searched the faces of the men and Benyam began to make the introductions I found myself looking at a face that seemed so very familiar. It didn’t take long to see that this was Benyam’s father. He was sitting in a wheelchair and I could see that his left arm was withered and frozen in place. As my eyes searched his, I could see in them a light and care that reached deep inside of me. This man looks a little like a dark-skinned Sean Connery. He has a striking presence. Benyam’s mum came out to greet us and ushered us into the house to have coffee.
We entered a tired house that had cement walls that were painted yellow many years ago. The door to the next room was painted a rich blue that somehow seemed very right. The numerous sofas and chairs were covered in what seemed to be worn flowered bedspreads and the coffee table had a bright red and green plastic covering.
We came in and took our seats as Benyam began to tell me about his family. His parents had been missionaries for years to some of the unreached tribes in the south part of Ethiopia working with Swedish missionary groups. They had started the first Maranatha church in their home and now there were many churches that had come from them. Then, he told me of the stroke his dad had experienced 21 years ago and how it had affected him. Benyam kept saying they have great vision for the work of God. As I began speak of how blessed we are to have Benyam serving with us, his father’s eyes began to mist up. He took my hand and kissed it. Benyam said “My father really love’s God”. I looked deep into the eyes of this man of God and I could see the light of Christ shining back at me. I told Benyam that his father’s love of Christ was shining out of his eyes. As Benyam interpreted, the old man smiled and again kissed my hand through tears. He could not speak much at all and what he could say was in Amharic. Words were not necessary. Someone began to make coffee Ethiopian style – roasting coffee beans there on the floor on a mat over coals in a clay pot and then brewing the coffee in a clay hand-made carafe. The coffee is very strong and they pour it into a small cup filled ¾ full with sweetened milk. It is truly the best coffee I have ever had. We shared coffee and the deep love and fellowship found in the Spirit. After we prayed together and said goodbye – again I took the hand of my new friend and kissed him on the cheek. He kissed my hand once again with a twinkle in his eye and I squeezed his good hand as I left.
As I left to get into the taxi everything was different, I was no longer weary and discouraged. My heart had been strengthened and renewed by the love of Christ shining out of the eyes an old man I barely knew.