by Gary Smalley
“So, I need you to tell me what to do.”
“Michele, I can’t do that.”
“Why can’t you? I’m giving you permission.”
Her dad smiled. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
“I guess.”
“Do you know what your main hesitation is, what’s keeping you from saying yes? I know Allan’s been hinting at you going on one of these trips for quite a while. Is it the money?”
She sat back in her chair. “I don’t think so. It may be a part of it. But I really was willing to spend it when I thought we were sending him. And there’s a part of me that wants to go. Well, that’s not exactly true. I don’t want to go. But I don’t want Allan to have to go alone, either.”
“Do you think it’s fear? It’s not something you’ve ever done before.”
“I’m sure that’s part of it. Maybe a big part. Most of the places we’ve been to together have been nice places. Vacation trips. I’ve seen the pictures and videos Allan brings back from Africa. Korah is not a nice place. Even by African standards. This place really got to him, more than all the other locations he’s been to . . . combined. I couldn’t get the stink out of his clothes. If he had a hard time there, what’s it going to do to me?” She sighed. “I’m just not wired like Allan. For some reason, I can’t seem to take seeing people in horrendous suffering. Especially children. It makes me feel so helpless and depressed.”
“And maybe a little guilty?” her father said.
“Yeah, some of that too, I’m sure.”
“That’s perfectly normal, Michele. I think most Christians in America feel the same way about missions, especially when extreme poverty is involved. We have so much, and they have so little. And we don’t understand why. The emotions can get overwhelming pretty quick. They do for me when I’m exposed to the situation, and I’ve never actually been there. I know you’ve been able to avoid most of this so far. Except for a week or two after Allan gets back from one of these trips. But maybe God wants to change that.”
“You mean . . . change me?”
“Maybe. I don’t know what he has in mind here, but it does seem like he’s orchestrating things in this direction. Definitely seems to be stretching you. But if it is God, he will give you grace for it. This far away, it may seem like too much for you to deal with. But if he wants you there, with Allan, God will give you plenty of grace to make it work. You’ll see. I think it will be like Peter walking on water. He couldn’t tell what it would really be like as long as he was sitting in that boat.”
But Michele liked being in the boat. She was definitely an in-the-boat kind of Christian. “The other eleven disciples never walked on water.”
“That’s true.”
They both sipped their coffee, looked at each other.
“The question is,” her father said, “what is God calling you to?” He smiled. “I don’t know if this will help, but for some reason, I just had a flashback of you and Tom on Christmas morning, before Doug was born. You know how kids look forward to Christmas? They’re totally focused on all the toys and presents they’re going to get. That’s what Christmas is all about. But for the parents, it’s different. They might get a present or two, but they’re not focused on what they’re getting that day. For them, their joy is the look on their kids’ faces, their reactions to what they’re getting. You know that saying, it is more blessed to give than to receive? Jesus said that. What he’s saying is that the happiest person is the one giving the gift, not the one receiving it. The one giving is the one who truly gets blessed.”
It dawned on her that this was the joy she saw in Allan about Africa and these mission trips. He never thought about the money he spent, or the vacation time he lost, or the hopeless situations he was forced to leave behind when he came back to the States. Because he wasn’t going on these trips to get something but to give. He gave his heart away. And in the giving, God blessed him so much, Allan immediately wanted to do it all over again.
“I want to experience that,” she said.
“You mean . . . you’ll go with him?”
“I think I will.”
“I think that’s a good decision,” her dad said. “And I predict that by the time you return home, you’ll have no regrets on any of the money you spent. The reward you will feel deep inside will be like a gift from God, a much bigger prize than anything you could possibly lose.”
She reached her hand across the table and squeezed his. “Thank you, Dad.”
52
They had finally made it to Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia. It had been a long and trying day. Because of the nine-hour time difference and how long the trip was, they had to get up at 3:00 a.m. and be at the airport by 5:00. When they’d finally landed and had their first conversation on the ground, both had agreed they should unpack the mouthwash first. She wasn’t sure what time it was now. She was too tired to even pull out her cell phone and check.
They had just checked into the hotel and were walking to their room on the third floor. It was mostly dark when the airplane landed, completely dark outside now. She’d get a better look come daylight, but she could already tell this city looked nothing like any city in America. The cars were different, smaller, odd-looking, and there were a lot less of them for a city this big. But the exhaust fumes were horrible. The buildings looked very different. But it appeared more modern than she had expected.
“Here we are, hon.” Allan opened the door with the hotel key.
The hotel wasn’t bad. Nothing fancy. Like a low-budget hotel you might find in the States. Old but fairly clean. At least it looked clean in dim lamp lighting. “Do I need to worry about bugs?” she asked as they walked through the door.
“Wasn’t a big problem for me the last time. Maybe an occasional fly.” He set their bags on the bed.
“Not a good idea,” she said. “I plan to collapse there in about two minutes.”
Allan laughed. He turned and took her hand and led her to a chair in the corner. “How about you sit here a few minutes? I’ll just unpack the things that wrinkle, not that it matters too much in a town like this. But I know how much you hate wrinkled clothes. I don’t think this room comes with an iron.”
“You are so nice to me.” He really was. He must’ve thanked her for coming a dozen times since they left the house.
“You’re easy to be nice to.”
She watched him work, amazed he had any energy. “It wouldn’t take much for me to fall asleep sitting here.”
“I’m almost done.” He pulled her last blouse from the suitcase. “Think you might like to take a shower before bed?”
“That sounds nice. How’s the hot water?”
“It works. The showerhead’s nothing fancy. But it might relax your muscles, make it easier to sleep.”
“I don’t think I’m going to need any help with that. I could sleep on a wood floor right now.”
After finishing his chore, he zipped the suitcases back up and moved them to a nearby table. “I think I might take one. My back’s pretty stiff from all that time on the plane.”
She got up and checked the curtain, adjusting it to make sure there were no cracks. Then walked over to him and began massaging his shoulders.
“A little lower, between my shoulder blades.”
“You go ahead and take a shower. I’m just gonna change into my pj’s. But maybe you better pray with me first.” Ever since their wedding, Allan had started a habit of praying together every night before they fell asleep. “I don’t think I’ll be awake when you’re done.”
He turned and drew her close, said a short prayer. Once again, he included thanks for God making it possible for Michele to be there with him. Michele knew that all of Allan’s anxiety and stress about the trip had completely disappeared the moment she told him she was coming.
He was tired but very happy.
She was just tired.
Michele woke up the next morning, surprisingly refreshed. They had both slept a
lmost ten hours. On this part of the journey, the jet lag slanted in their favor. The opposite would be true on the way home.
Allan had gotten up a little earlier and was already showered and dressed. “There’s a little café just a couple doors down the street. The team ate there almost every morning as we planned out our day. The food’s not terrible. The coffee’s actually pretty good. How about you start getting ready, and I’ll go down and get two cups to go? Bring them back up here.”
“I could definitely use some coffee. Speaking about planning out the day . . . what is our plan?”
“We’re supposed to meet Henok back at that same café in about” —he glanced at his watch—“forty-five minutes from now.”
“Forty-five minutes? Allan, you know I like more time than that to get ready.”
“I know. But you were completely zonked thirty minutes ago. I didn’t have the heart to wake you. But you’ll be fine. Everything is casual today. Besides, look at you now. You just woke up, and you’re already beautiful. Most women take an hour just to get where you’re at now.”
She laughed. It was a total lie, but it worked. “Go get the coffee.”
He came back about fifteen minutes later. The coffee was surprisingly good; then she remembered one of her favorite Starbucks coffees had Ethiopia in its name. This actually tasted similar.
He picked up his cup and took a sip. “Guess who I saw in the café? Henok. He was already there, drinking coffee and writing in a notebook. So how about this? You finish getting ready and I’ll go down and meet with him. See if we can get some of our business out of the way. And then you come down and join us when you’re ready.”
“By myself?”
“It’s really close. You just walk out the front door of the hotel, turn right, and go three doors down. You don’t even have to cross the street. You can even see the café sign from the front door of the hotel. It hangs out right over the sidewalk.”
That didn’t sound too bad. She just felt insecure. Of course she would, she was halfway around the world. “I guess I could do that. How much time do I have?”
“Doing it this way, you can take another fifteen or twenty minutes if you want. We’ll be at a table along the right wall. I won’t order breakfast until you get there.” He came over and kissed her on the cheek.
When Allan got back to the café, he found Henok where he’d left him. Henok looked up from his notebook; a big smile came over his face as he stood.
“You don’t need to get up,” Allan said.
“Of course I do, my friend. I am so happy to see you.” They shook hands. “You have come such a long way, and on such short notice. I was so sorry to hear about Pastor Ray. Is he in very much pain?”
“He would be, but he’s taking some strong pain medication.”
“I saw some pictures on Facebook of him in his hospital bed,” Henok said. “He was smiling. He sent me a lengthy email also, explaining everything. Which I found amazing considering the accident was just Friday.”
“Well, he’s very sorry he couldn’t come himself. And I’m sorry for him. He’s the one who’s done most of the work getting all this together back in the States.”
“That’s not how he explained it in his email,” Henok said. “He talked about all the work you have done. You are the one who figured everything out and put the budget together. I have been studying it carefully. It will be my job to make it work once you leave.”
Allan couldn’t believe the change he was seeing in Henok from the last time he was here. His eyes were so bright, and he was so confident now. “We know you’ll do a great job. So tell me, what can we expect in our two meetings this morning?”
Ray had already briefed him that there would be one meeting with the government officials to pay all the necessary fees and sign some papers, and one with the building landlord to sign the lease. Henok explained these events in a little more detail. It didn’t sound like either meeting would take very long. Henok said he wasn’t expecting any surprises and, thankfully, there didn’t appear to be any worry about bribes.
After he finished the briefing, Henok said, “When will I get to meet your wife? She’s with you, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is. She should be down here very soon to join us for breakfast.” He turned for a moment to look at the front door. “Before she gets here, I wanted to ask you about Korah. Will we have time to go there this afternoon?”
“I was planning on it. The facility we have picked for the orphanage is on the edge of the city closest to Korah. That’s where we will meet the landlord and sign the lease. After he leaves, I’ll give you and your wife a tour of the facility, show you some of our plans. After that, we’ll drive out to Korah.”
“How long before we’ll be ready to let the first six orphans start living there?”
“We can start now. It is very basic, but it will seem like a king’s palace to the children.”
53
Michele sat in the very plain lobby of a government office, reading her Kindle. Allan and Henok had been gone about twenty minutes for their meeting with the local officials. Hopefully they were signing papers to set up the orphanage. She could tell Allan was nervous on the car ride over, but Henok seemed confident the meeting would go well. He had already met several times with these officials, bringing them printed copies of the email exchanges with the “wonderful men from America” who were providing all the funds to make this a success.
As Allan and Henok walked into the office and before they closed the door, she heard Henok introduce Allan as “one of the men I’ve been telling you about.”
She liked Henok right away and, during breakfast, was fascinated by stories of his childhood growing up in Korah. It had been an unimaginably hard life. As he spoke, she had decided not to press him for details. Otherwise, she’d lose her appetite for sure. She’d also loved his accent, although she couldn’t quite place it. He spoke with such great diction.
The drive here from the café had given her a clearer picture of the town. It was close to how she had imagined it, both from Allan’s stories and the handful of videos she had watched on YouTube about Addis Ababa. It didn’t remind her of any city in the US. She saw evidence of new construction and modern buildings but mingled in were so many structures that were old and poorly maintained. They hadn’t driven past a single block that would’ve passed the commercial building codes in River Oaks. But here, none of the buildings seemed out of place.
She had seen plenty of signs of poverty but nothing close to the things Allan had shared about Korah, or what Henok had described at breakfast that morning. That would soon change. They were heading to Korah after lunch.
She was just about to reconnect with her book when the office door opened. Henok came out first, followed by Allan. As soon as he saw her, his face lit up with a smile.
It had gone well. She was so relieved.
He waited until they were completely outside before talking. “We got the approval to launch the orphanage right away. As soon as we sign the papers with the landlord.”
“Which is where we’re going now,” Henok added.
“Once the first six children are brought into the orphanage,” Allan said, “and their paperwork is settled, the orphanage can begin to make adoptions to couples a reality.”
They reached the car. Allan opened her door. Henok went around to the driver’s seat. “We already have a lawyer from our church who has agreed to work with us on this.”
“How far is it to the orphanage from here?”
“Less than ten minutes,” Henok said.
The landlord had just left, his copy of the signed lease and a check representing the first three months’ rent in hand. Henok was walking Allan and Michele through the facility, showing the work they had already done and discussing plans for the weeks ahead. It reminded her of a smaller version of a daycare center. There were no decorations on the walls, nothing to indicate little children would live here. And nothing Henok had shared so far se
emed to indicate that correcting this was part of his future plans.
“Allan, is there any money in the budget to buy some things to make this place seem a little . . . happier? You know, stuff kids would like.”
“I’m sure we could fix that,” he said. “Henok, do you know of any stores where we could buy fun things for children?”
“Not at the moment, but I know someone I could ask. I have hired two women to care for the children full-time. They are coming later this afternoon while we are at Korah. I will ask them when we get back.”
They walked past two open doorways to small bedrooms. Three child-sized beds lined the walls in both rooms. “Do we know who the first six children are?” Michele asked.
“Yes, I’ve picked them out,” Henok said. “All of them are children in Korah that I think would fit in well here. I haven’t talked to them or their guardians yet.”
“Are their guardians the children’s relatives?” Michele asked.
“Most are. Grandmothers, aunts, cousins.”
They walked through the kitchen. Adequate, but no bigger than you’d see in an average apartment.
“Here’s one benefit of doing business in Ethiopia,” Allan said. “If we tried doing something like this in the US, we’d probably have to put in huge commercial appliances, as if we were opening a big restaurant.”
Henok looked confused. “For six small children?”
“I know,” Allan said. “Crazy, isn’t it?”
Henok walked them out through the back door into a large fenced area. Barbed wire lined the top of the fence. It was bigger than a courtyard but smaller than a backyard. There were no swings, no slides, no playthings at all. Not even any grass, just dirt.
Allan looked at Michele. “We’ll work on this too.”
“Can we do it while we’re still here?” She would have to talk to him about this later; she didn’t want to embarrass Henok in any way. Clearly, his mind had been on other important things.
But this place needed a woman’s touch.