Many of the kids in our program attend a local school here in
Addis. Those children come to the church for lunch every school day, and then
return to their classes. The clinic and the feeding program are in the same
compound, so if Emily or I am at the clinic around lunch time, all the local
school kids are there too. This should be a great system for us to see them and
address their medical needs. It is, however, a terrible system, and one that I
prefer to avoid. The reason being, that the children are not honest about their
ailments. They will all crowd in around the door to see the “doctor” and make
up the most pathetic story they can come up with.
They want bandages and
chapstick, lotion, toothpaste, vitamins and bandaides! If they had a need I
would gladly give them those things, but in fact the majority of the time they
do not need those things! They know what to say to get the yummy medicine. “I
am coughing.” for cough drops. “My stomach is upset.” for Tums. Sometimes I
purposely give them a half dose of the nasty tasting cough syrup so they don’t
tell me that lie again.
It is also a battle to get them to come in one at a
time. The moment I stick my key into the lock there is a herd of blue sweaters
stampeding me into the door. I try to push them all out and slowly let one
person in at a time. Sometimes they simply won’t get out. I do one of two
things. I jump up on the examination table, cross my arms, stick out my lip,
and refuse to treat until they all leave, or I beat them out with the clinic
broom. We don’t have to be politically correct around here. Often, one or two
of the students will self-appoint and stand at the door and filter the patients
in for me. Sometimes that is helpful, and other time I just want that
self-appointed gate keeper on the other side of the door too!
 |
| (This is not Marta) |
This past week, I was having one of those days. Cough drops,
chapstick, broom beatings, the whole nine yards. A student named Marta was
guarding my door. She is one of the worst for asking. Admittedly, when I see
her come, sometimes I groan to myself. This day, though, she was actually quite
helpful keeping back the crowds. When I finally had enough and closed the door
she picked up a mop and a rag and started cleaning the floor and wiping down
the room. She worked until I stopped her. I started down the road, and Marta
followed me. As we walked she merrily chatted along like any fourteen year old
girl. I quite enjoyed her.
She paused for a minute and asked me where my boyfriend,
Murad, lived. I told her the area, and then she inquired whether I lived with
him or not. I was surprised by her bold question, but thrilled to answer her.
Murad has told me that almost all dating couples here sleep together, Christian
or not, and that the students probably assume we do too. Earlier, Marta had
noticed two rings on my fingers and asked who had given them to me. I referred
back to that question and explained the concept of my purity ring. I told her I
have worn it every day since my dad gave it to me on my 16th
birthday, and will wear it until I give it to my husband on my wedding day. She
was amazed, and marveled at the idea of purity.
Then I asked her what her family religion is. She told me
that her father is dead, her mother is Orthodox, but she (with her chest puffed
out) is Protestant. J After more conversation I realized she really had very
little understanding of salvation through Christ. Orthodoxy is a very works-based
faith. They worship saints, angels, and God together. They fast, pray, and go
to church on schedules. There is no love or relationship between God and man.
They are threatened by Hell and are working to earn a place in Heaven. Marta
asked me many questions about angels, sin, Jesus, and salvation. I told her the
story of the fall of man, how sin entered the world, and how man’s relationship
with God was consequently broken. I told her how the wrath of God was upon the
world in response to our sin, and that we needed a perfect blood sacrifice to
satisfy His wrath. And then I told her of the amazing gift of Jesus Christ, how
he willingly came and satisfied that wrath on our behalf. And by grace we are
saved through faith. Praise God.
Many of you have been praying for my language learning, that
I would pick up Amharic quickly. One of my goals was to share Christ with
someone by Easter. Marta does not speak English. This entire conversation was
in Amharic. She listened intently, chin on her knuckles, understanding
everything I said. My sentence structure was not perfect. I’m sure many of my
words were pronounced incorrectly. But Marta heard the Gospel by the work of
the Holy Spirit from my mouth. I can finally be a mouth piece.
One broken vessel.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
የ አግዘአያበሄር ስም የመስገን
