I have vivid childhood memories of being captivated by the glimpses of Ethiopia I saw on TV.
I remember the long, emotional commercials with the graphic images of starving children. I recall feeling a deep sense of tension in my inability to reconcile the fact that I was watching these emaciated, dying people while sitting on my carpeted floor, eating cereal in my pajamas in front of the TV.
I knew something was wrong with that picture, but I didn’t understand it.
I still don’t.
Even though I’ve experienced it the world over.
I had that same sense of unreconcilable tension when I flew to Nicaragua at 14 for my first mission trip. I felt it in Amsterdam when I spoke with people at coffee houses, hearing their stories of love and loss. I couldn’t shake it in the rural villages of Botswana. And it lived with me in South Africa, ever present, ever pressing.
And still, I have no answers. I don’t understand the disparity in the world. The extremes of affluence and poverty found practically on each other’s doorsteps.
That deep place in my heart, affected so strongly by Ethiopia as just a young girl, is about to get wrecked by Ethiopia once again. I’m traveling there next month with Food for the Hungry.
FH is an amazing organization, engaging in community development through child sponsorships all around the globe. I’ve had the incredible opportunity to work with them for the past six months, helping them set up their first-ever Blogger Mission Trip. It has been such a joy to work with my friend Daniel on the planning and preparation for this inaugural trip. And I feel even more blessed that I get to travel with them as part of the team.
There are 6 of us bloggers going, along with a photographer and several FH staff members. I am blown away by my teammates, and am really looking forward to getting to know them more on the trip. I know I have a lot to learn from each one of them. Meet the whole team on the FH Bloggers website.
I know I’ll experience the same no-answers, only-questions unreconcilable contradictions in Ethiopia. I know. And I want to embrace them. To wrestle in that space—with myself, with my heart, with culture, with my questions, with Him…
Some things will just never make sense, but that doesn’t mean they are to be avoided. Ignored. Disregarded.
No, they are meant to be run headlong into. Embracing the tension to find the Only One Who Makes Sense in the midst of everything that doesn’t.
Let’s look for Him together…