Cancer Letter

My daughter,

Yes. It came back positive. Yes. You are scared, scared on a level that shivers down to your bones. This is a turning point, a time in your life that you'll look back on and sing praises to Me- not due to the outcome, good or bad, but because of the hairs of positives that will come from this experience. I'm holding you so tightly in my hands when you stay up at night and cry and cry. Your pain pierces my heart. Your tears make my eyes water. Oh, how I love you. Oh, how I wish you could see from my perspective. Remember my thoughts are higher than yours, my ways higher than your ways. Evil does not win.

There are a hundred things I wish to tell you, whisper in your ear. Sometimes your situations, pain, overwhelm you like a wave you are submerged under with no escape. But, I am here. I am God. I can do anything I please and, my love, I will help you. I desperately want to be your strength during this time to rescue you from this wave. Give everything to me- the outcome, the struggle, the fear, the uncertainty. Let the peace that comes with knowing me be your guide.

My love for you is larger than you can imagine,

Jesus

“With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.”-Mark 10:27

“Do not fear, only believe.” Mark 5:36

Ethiopian Friends

My friend, Tiebebu, is an orphan living in Addis. He is one of the sweetest and most genuine kids I've ever met. He has such a kind, loving, heart. I can't imagine the pain he feels knowing he was abandoned, and no one wanted him.

Debora works at Mission Ethiopia. I first met her while she was preaching it up during Mission Ethiopia's daily devotional. Her passionate tone, and intense body language while she preached was something I will always remember. Debora's love for Jesus shines when you see her.

This is my good friend Mikias. Mikias was our translator. This trip I really got to know him. Growing up, Mikias was thrown in prison multiple times, stoned, and mobbed out of his own home for loving Jesus. But that didn't stop him from telling others about what Jesus had done for them. Every time we would eat, Mikias would make me eat his meal first. He always gave me his drink. If I said I was cold, he would take off his shirt and give it to me. Mikias knows how to love like Jesus loved. I miss him so much.

Kasa is a leper. He has no fingers, but still makes rugs. He is one of the men that work for Mission Ethiopia. Every time I passed by his work station he would wave and have a huge grin on his face as I yelled, “Kasa!”. His wife recently died. Kasa loved her so much. As he told are team about it, he started to cry. He is one of the few men that haven't left their wives. He is struggling to pay his rent (less than $20 a month), so the women at Mission Ethiopia are chipping in to help him.

I feel in love with these two souls- Tigist and Temeshen. They are full of so much energy and fun. Tigist would always make sure the kids wouldn't steal my things. She would yell at them and defend me. When my hair fell in my face she would always gently push it behind my ear. Every day in Korah I never left her side. I miss her so much. Their father abandoned them and their mom works for Mission Ethiopia, so I know she is getting food. I am grateful for Mission Ethiopia being in their lives.

Beza works for the guest home through Mission Ethiopia. She is one of the better off Ethiopians but has one of the most generous hearts. One lady we met was only 18, got raped, had a kid, and her family left her. They had no food or clothes and were clearly dying. Beza took the clothes in her closet and gave them to this lady. I love her so much.

This is my friend Meskyrem and her mom, I hung our with them everyday. Meskyrem is best friends with Tigist. She has an older and younger sister. Her father left them. Meskyrems mom luckily got a job working with Mission Ethiopia. Without it she would most likely be begging and sorting through trash. Meskyrem is such a leader, I see so much potential in her.

The person in the blue shirt is Anguach. I got to visit her closet size home while I was in Ethiopia. She has only been working for Mission Ethiopia for two weeks. She was in a bad car accident were her husband for 20 years died, along with her new born baby. Anguach is like the mom to her small street. Children came and went and she provided them with food. The community of Mission Ethiopia has really helped her bring healing. She also makes amazing coffee(:

Our van just started to roll out of Korah. These three little girls, Tigist, Meskyrem, and Lydia, I hung around every day. Tears were streaming as I said goodbye. I couldn't stand leaving them, how many other people have they seen leave? I took out my camera in an effort to make them smile. This is the picture I snapped.

Tigist

What do you do when this little girl hands you some of her popcorn to eat?

This beautiful girls name is Tigist. My friend Ann Rae feel in love with her last year. Tigist's parents both died. She is now living with her grandmother who happens to be handicap. Because of this, she doesn't have a job. No job, means no money, which means no food.

Tigist walks in Anguach's small closet size home, and sits on Corey's lap. You can not take the smile of this girls face. Her pants are so big, they are falling off her body. While the red shirt she is wearing she's worn for days. She grabs my hand to hold- a sign of friendship in there culture.

Anguach is a women who recently started working at Mission Ethiopia. We are her first home visit. She starts the coffee ceremony. Roasting the coffee beans, and preparing the popcorn. Once the popcorn is done, she gets up and passes it out to everyone. Tigist grabs a hand full. I wonder when the last time she ate. I wonder if this is all she will have today. All these thoughts enter my mind.

Tigist starts to eat a little, but is trying to feed Corey and myself with her popcorn. Her popcorn. This little girl, who probably doesn't know when her next "meal" will be, is feeding us well feed Americans. How many children her age are sharing their food? Especially in Africa.

I had this memory come to me again in a dream. I woke up like it was a nightmare- my heart sunk in my chest. It was probably guilt. How much food we have is sickening. But not just that, I can't tell you how many times I've seen people, at lunch time at school, refuse to give someone their food- because it's theirs, they own it. But now I see, we don't own food. Food owns us.

Tigist has had days were she's starved. She experienced hunger like we never can imagine. But food doesn't own her. This five year old, not knowing when the next meal will come, feed us Americans. Why? Well because I think she has a better understanding of what this life is all about. She wanted to feed us because she cared about us, she loved us. She saw past her need, and was looking out for ours.

Tigist need for food is so much larger than ours could ever be, but still she shared. I have so much to learn from this girl. Now, tomorrow I embark on a fast, from food.

Jesus, 
Please show me my heart. Show me my need for You. Just like Tigist, help me look past my need for the people around me. Through this fast let me learn Your heart. Reveal to me Your Will for my life. Put inside me a passion. God you are a consuming fire, consume my inner thoughts, the depths of my heart, and consume my dreams. Father, Your Will be done. Open up a door for me to walk through, but don't open one if you don't want me to walk through it. Thank you for putting Tigist and this story on my heart. Thank you for showing me my poverty. Thank you for the example you set for me, Jesus. Your Will be done in everything. Prepare us for what you want to do in us this summer. I love you.
Kirstin.

Yordanos

Big Ahope is an orphanage for children 12-16 who have HIV. Not only are these children older, so that lessens there chance of being adopted, but they also have HIV- an almost hopeless situation. After driving down the rock filled bumpy dirt roads, we reached Ahope. I went inside the building, finding a room with six beds and some children inside. Immediately I approached a girl who was doing laundry on her bed. When I tried to talk to her, she would softly respond or just ignore me. Instead of trying to break her walls, selfishly, I wanted to walk away and find another child who was more willing to connect. I turned around a little, like I was about to leave, then she looked up with this look of don't leave. So I didn't. I learned her name was Yordanos, after she repeat herself multiple times, and wrote in on my hand. We awkwardly stood there, well I awkwardly stood there, while she did the laundry. My friends were painting the other girls in the rooms nails, so I asked if she would let me paint hers. She declined. I then asked if I could help her with the laundry. She declined. I asked her if we could play outside. She declined. As she continued starring down, folding the clothes, I asked her if she prayed. With a smile, she told me yes, everyday. Yordanos pulled out her bible to show me. Finally I was breaking down the walls. She then told me I could now paint her nails, but only her toe nails. Slowly I painted them, trying my best not to mess up, trying my best to show her love, trying my best to be her older sister. Calling over Big Sammy, our translator, I asked what her dreams where. Yordanos wants to be a doctor when she's older. Then Yordanos and I got to pray. Yordanos has a younger sister named Kidist. So Kidist and I went outside to play soccer. But when I was out there playing I could sense the Holy Spirit telling me to go back inside and be with Yordanos- so I went inside. Her eyes light up when she saw me coming back. She wanted me to paint her finger nails now. So I repeated the process. I noticed string on her bed and asked her about it. We then made each other bracelets- well I made her one, and she gave me one she had already made. Afterwards, she finally decided to come outside to play. Yordanos, Ethiopians in general, know how to jump rope. She swung her arm in a large circle, while bending her knees and body in perfect harmony. It was so cute. You could tell she was one of the quiet girls in the orphanage. I just wonder how many people over-look her because she's quiet, like I almost did. Yordanos is a little 12 year old trying to be a mom to her younger sister. She has to protect her, make sure she's safe. I can't image the thoughts she experiences daily. I can't image the circumstances she has gone through. She is strong and she has Jesus. I can't help but feel like I made a mistake. That I was trying to hard to make a connection that I ended up hurting her. I can't help but think she was just trying to be nice to me because I was annoying. I can't help but wonder if she had a personal relationship with Jesus or was Ethiopian Orthodox. I think this story is the hardest for me to tell because I feel like I messed up. But it was also an impact moment.  

Orphans

We got to go to a Catholic orphanage twice. I walked in the second time to be greeted by my friend Tiebebu, a 11 year old boy, who I love. Afterward two little girls were begging for my attention. Literally begging. I sat down so I could hold them. One girl was in my lap, while the other was trying to push the other girl off so she could have my attention. I looked into the little girls eyes, who I couldn't hold, she had such pain. There's no other way to explain it other than 100% pain, hurt, worthlessness, unloved, brokenness. She couldn't have been more than 3 years old. Usually three year olds have this innocents, and love inside them. But she didn't. She never had any one ever hold her as a baby, anyone to ever tell her she was loved. Everyone who ever held her, always left. She was used to everyone she would get close to leaving her- I was no different. The girl I held in my lap, wouldn't look me in the eyes for the longest time. She just wanted to be held and hugged- so I did. I wanted to so desperately go to the baby room so I could hold them, but God hinted and told me He placed me in that moment, with this specific girl, for a reason. So I stayed and held her. I started to think the same thoughts I was thinking for the other girl. I wanted to stay there forever and just hold her. I didn't need to speak, I just wanted to hold her and make her feel loved, even if it was only for an hour. Inside me though, I knew I was going to have to leave her, I couldn't stay. How many other people have left her? How could these children who should be innocent already have this depth of hurt and mask in their eyes. I felt horrible. But then I had this thought enter me, although I am going to have to leave her, I am going to have to put her down from my arms, God will never put her down, God will be there forever, He will never leave. He will never leave. I pray that although they have been so hurt in their lives they will experience the relationship found in Jesus, the love, the joy, the worth they have in Him. 

Once they left I went in the baby room. 20 cribs stuffed in a room, with babies laying there, with no one to hold them when they cried. The babies would literally just start crying not for food, or their diaper, because they wanted to be held. They had no one to hold them. That's all they wanted. Innocent, little tiny, babies, who had already been through things I can't imagine. These children have no one. One baby was only a month old, their mom had left them on the street to die- not because she didn't love him, but because she couldn't provide for him. If they could provide they would have kept their babies. Now this kid will grow up feeling worthless because there own mother left them to die. They won't have any parents. They wouldn't have anyone to stand up for them when they are older. They are going to grow up with this ugly view of the world. They will have no one to be their role model, or help them through puberty. No one to give them the sex talk, or teach them how to play sports. Oh, how I have taken all of this for granted. I have two parents. Most children in Ethiopia only have one, or none, never both. 

One girl was playing and a boy kept kicking her. She had no adult to stand up for her. She was alone. She was broken. This world makes people believe the lie they aren't loved. I wish everyone had parents, I wish everyone had food, shelter, a job, a house, a car, but if everyone did, oh how ugly this world would be. The orphans are without hope, joy, and love. I pray they will get this back. Give them parents Jesus. Help them through the pain of seeing everyone else except them getting adopted. Help them see their worth and love. Bring them to you Jesus. Show them You. Jesus you are the answer.  

Ethiopia 2013 Thank You!

First off, I'd like to say thank you for supporting my dad and I on our missions trip to Ethiopia- prayerfully, financially, or both. In Ethiopia I learned a lot about the depth of Gods character and the complete joy found in Him. Almost every day we were loving on the people in Korah- the outcasts of the outcasts. Their roads are dirt covering over the trash underneath. Driving down the bumpy road you see small children digging in the trash, leapers walking with their heads down low, young moms begging for food. We got to hang out at the Mission Ethiopia site in the heart of Korah. Our team was invited to sit in on their devotional. I walked in and saw women of all ages- teens to 70- on their knees bowing on the concrete floor, crying out to their Maker, praising Him with such over-flowing joy. When they started worshiping him in song, one lady was so desperate for Jesus, she literally feel over. Every person there praised Jesus with such abandoned, heart-throbbing, need for His presence. In that moment God whispered to me, “When's the last time you worshiped like that?”. I don't know if I ever have, but it made me desire to know Him like they do- they are so happy. These people have nothing, yet they have everything. I've never met people with such joy. They flipped my perspective on possessions. In America we are told having a family, a job, a car, a house, food, clothes, are important when in fact, I've found all of these things are worthless when compared to the infinite knowledge of knowing Christ Jesus, my Savor. Everything is empty compared to Jesus. He fulfills that thought in your heart of “there has to be something more to this life”. Jesus is the answer. This was the main thing God taught me while in Ethiopia. My heart is still in Ethiopia, I miss the people so much. Thank you for making this journey possible. I am grateful you helped me to accomplish my dream. 

Love, Kirstin Beck

Blurry

While in Ethiopia I got to meet some of the happiest people I have ever met before. They had nothing materially but were completely full of joy and life. I learned that Jesus truly is everything a person needs to survive. I learned about the depth of His character and the joy found in Him. Once back from Ethiopia, I was submerged back in Americas materialistic culture. My view of Jesus was so clear in Ethiopia, I “got it”. But now that I am back in America my view of Him is blurred again. I know He is the same, I just can't see Him as clear. I hate this. I hate being morphed by our culture. I just want to see Jesus again like I did in Ethiopia. I think that's another reason why I want to move their so bad. The Devil is trying to tell me I can't experience God like I did in Ethiopia while in America. I know that's a lie, but its almost true. How can I see God when there are idols and stuff in the way? How can I live with the same dependence when I am comfortable? There is nothing in my life where I truly need to rely on Him. Inside me I am trying to find where, what, how. I just want to experience God like I did in Ethiopia. I don't want to be conformed by this World. This seems like a helpless situation. Jesus, you are the only one that can show me the Way, the Way out, the Way to life, the Way to joy, the Way to Truth. Nothing is impossible through You who gives me strength. Break the chains around me. Reveal the idols. Point me towards you. Teach me to how to depend on you in America- show me what that means. How can I grow when I am so comfortable? I want pain to happen so I can dig deeper in Your heart. I want to do something. I just don't know what to do. I want my life to matter. What should I do Jesus? Show me. Help me fight the Devil. I need You. Help me be h a p p y. Help me find j o y. Help me have l I f e. Revive these dead bones, with a fresh breath of your spirit. You are good, all the time, all the time, all the time.  

What now?

Ethiopia is now a moment in the past, the future awaits me. It's now my senior year of high-school, so college is on my mind, right? Not exactly. All I know is that before I left for Ethiopia I had this thought in my heart that I would move there. In Addis, I sat on the balcony for the last couple hours before leaving. I kept thinking, whens the next time I am going to be back. In the airport leaving, I was crying, not because I missed my family, but because I couldn't stand the thought of leaving this country. I wanted to stay so bad. But still in my heart I had this knowledge that I would be back, that leaving was only temporary. I am back in America and I would be lying to you if I said I wasn't angry. I am mad. I don't want to be here. But I trust God. He has me in America for this season of my life for a reason, so I will follow Him. A day after being back I was on my back porch, peering out in the distance. I looked at the woods I grew up playing in, where so many memories had been made. I looked at my basketball court and the hours I spent practicing on it- hoping to get in the WNBA. But inside me, for the first time ever, I felt like this wasn't my home. That America, the place I have lived for 16 years of my life wasn't my home. I am so confused by these emotions. How could I be feeling this way about Ethiopia if I have only been there for 7 days? I don't understand. Now I am left waiting. Patiently waiting on the God of the Universe to open a door for me to return to Ethiopia. What if all these thoughts and feelings are a lie? What if I am supposed to go to college right after high school? Worst of all, what if God isn't calling me to Ethiopia? So many emotions. So many doubts. So many fears. But I have one constant. No matter what happens, Ethiopia, college, whatever, Jesus is with me. God has a huge plan for my life, whether or not Ethiopia is involved. Jesus loves me so much. I still have my best friend fighting for me. He loves me and wants my dreams to come true. Even if Jesus breaks my heart and I am not moving to Ethiopia, I will praise Him. I will worship Him. I will follow Him. I will scream from the mountain tops that He is Lord. Jesus is everything. He is all I need to fill me up, to be whole. I don't need Ethiopia, I need Jesus and I already have Him. So no matter what happens in the next week, I will praise Him and love Him the best I can.

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Where ever you would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

That my faith would be made stronger

In the presence of my Savor

Good Friday

20 The parents must say to the elders, ‘This son of ours is stubborn and rebellious and REFUSES to OBEY. He is a glutton and a drunkard.’ 21 Then all the men of his town must STONE HIM to death. In this way, you will purge this evil from among you, and all Israel will hear about it and be afraid. 22 “If someone has COMMITTED a crime worthy of death and is executed and HUNG ON A TREE, 23 the body must not remain hanging from the tree overnight. You must bury the body that same day, for anyone who is hung is CURSED in the sight of God.

-Deuteronomy 21:20-23

This is crazy to me, verse 20-21. We are that person that deserves to be stoned to death. How many times have we not listened to our parents? This is what we would be subjected to if Jesus didn't die on the cross and give us the gift of Salvation through belief in Him. Yet, Jesus, the Son of God, OBEYED his Father, one aspect we still haven't grasped. Jesus, after being betrayed by Judas, was then scourged (beaten harshly, sometimes led to death itself) "Mark 15:15" paralleling Deuteronomy 21:21.

Then it continues in verse 22. "Committed a crime punishable by death". We have committed that crime, while Jesus' crime stated above him on the cross, in three different languages, was he was "the King of the Jews". Are Messiah had committed no crime. Verse 22 then says "he is put to death, and you hang him on tree". Crucifixion on a tree was the lowest deaths someone could have had. This part parallels Acts 10:39,

“And we apostles are witnesses of all he did throughout Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree."

Finally in verse 23 it says, "for a hanged man is cursed by God". We should be this person hanging on the cross, cursed by God. But innocent Jesus placed ALL our sin, shame, and guilt on Him so we can be FREE from the LAW. Why? Because the Son of God OBEYED His Father, the God of the universe, who LOVES us SO SO MUCH. Today He is betrayed, beaten, and crucified. It should have been us. Praise the Lord! For his never-ending love!!

"But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.
- Isaiah 53:5 (written 700 years before Jesus)

Dear Teacher

Dear Teacher,

            I see you five times a week, a couple hours a day.  You get my assignments on time, for the most part. I sit in the middle row. You see me smiling and having fun with my friends. If only you saw what was behind the mask.

Freshly stained crimson carved on my wrist. I walk into your class – worthlessness hits my heart again. Burdens weigh me down. I can’t stop thinking about Haley. I don’t want her to kill herself; it will be my fault if she dies. But you don’t care.  

Kayla, my best friend, sits next to me. She’s the only person who knows about Haley and my cutting. Class begins. Everyone in class is talking, so I start to update Kayla on the situation. You immediately start yelling at Kayla and me. Were we the only ones talking? I’m aggravated, but this has happened all year. Everyone agrees you hate my guts. Class continues.

“I want you to start working on vocab in your workbook,” you command us.

I forgot what questions to start on; I lean over and ask Kayla.

“Jane, didn’t I already tell you to stop talking?”

“I was asking Kayla a question,” I respond with attitude.

If there is one thing you don’t do in this class, it’s talk back. You order us to the hall. We surrender and leave with our heads down low. You start screaming at us, not bothering to close the door first. Glancing into the class, I see everyone listening. I try not to show any emotion, even though inside I’m crying. Kayla, on the other hand, is actually crying, loudly I might add. But you have no mercy and continue blaring at us.  

When you are finished, I walk back in the room; the whole class stares at me, their eyes glued to mine. I’ve never been this humiliated. Class continues, leaving me behind, a metaphor of my worth.

Before class ends, you tell Kayla and me to stay after. You proceed to tell me how awful and rude of a person I am. Do you realize how much that hurts? I leave. You then tell Kayla, my best friend, to stop being my friend. How dare you say that? You have no idea what’s going on in my life. Kayla is the only one holding me together.

I took off my mask and handed it to you in an effort to make a difference. My time in your classroom has left me with this knowledge I want to share. Please realize the amount of influence you have on us. Sometimes you’re the only light we see in the day. Every word you say impacts us, don’t waste them. So you have a choice, whether to build up or tear down. Teachers, as a student I say this to you: we want to know you care. Smile and talk to us. The simplicity of asking questions and wanting to get to know us goes so far. Invest in us, don’t just teach us. You can change the world through your classroom.

With Love,

Jane Doe

Five days a week. A couple hours a day. That’s all you have.