It’s 4:10am in the morning here in Addis. I can’t seem to sleep. I’ve been up since 2am tossing and turning. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I slept quite a bit on the plane, the jetlag, or just all the thoughts running through my mind that won’t seem to turn off. Whatever the reason, despite, the ambien I took, I can’t sleep. After fighting it for two hours, I decided to give up and go ahead and wake up. The house is quite except for the noises of others getting up to use the restroom every now and then. I have a feeling a few others are also lying awake.
We haven’t actually seen much of Ethiopia yet except for what we saw along the way on the 15 minute car ride from the airport to the Guest Home and what we can see around us here. It’s strange, kind of surreal actually. So similar to America, yet so vastly different. People are people, but their “normal” is quite different for our “normal” in America. Already I’m realizing how much I take for granted, like instantly accessible medical care. As the man I referenced in the previous post lay dying in the street last night, it occurred to me how strange that seemed. I wanted to just call an ambulance and have him picked up and rushed to the hospital. I thought to myself, “This is such a simple problem with such a simple solution. How can he lay dying while tons watch and nothing is done?” But here in Ethiopia, it wasn’t a simple problem with a simple solution. It was quite complicated actually. How would he get to the hospital, but more importantly how would he pay? He obviously was not wealthy. People probably die like this all the time here. Reality check.
I can’t tell you how many times so far I’ve said to myself, “I wish Nathan were here.” It would have been so wonderful for him to share in this experience with me. I miss him and the girls already. For the past seven Nathan and I haven’t been apart very much, and the girls have been my constant daily focus for the past six years. I kept feeling like I was missing something on the plane ride here. I’m not used to being alone, and it is definitely taking some getting used to. You don’t realize how much of your identity is tied to your role as a wife and a mother until you step out of that role. This trip will surely stretch me in ways I did not image. My prayer is just that I can be a blessing to all the people I come I contact with. I want people to know that they are loved and know that there are people who are deeply fond of them even if they live on the other side of the world. But most of all, I want them to know that Jesus Christ loves them and is deeply fond of them, and he definitely does not live on the other side of the world. He is here, right here.
