Happy Birthday, Sammy

Instead of apple and pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving dessert, tonight four of us shared a chocolate cake after a delicious Italian dinner.  Italian in Ethiopia?  It's one of Samson's favorites, and today is his birthday, so he got to choose the restaurant.  :)

 Sammy has been with us every minute we've been here. Well, except when we sleep.  :)  He helped us coordinate our trip by setting up appointments, lining up a driver (Yelli!), translating for us, and helping us navigate this very different culture.  We have been in touch with him via facebook during the month leading up to this trip, sending messages back and forth and asking him a million and one questions.

When we walked out of the airport on Sunday, we were looking for the man in the facebook picture.  As we scanned faces in the crowd, he emerged and we politely introduced ourselves and shook his hand. We made small talk in the car as we drove to our guest house.   He was an acquaintance, but one we trusted, as he came highly recommended by many friends who had been to Ethiopia previously.

Now, just five short days later, we can honestly say he is a close friend.  We've spent HOURS with him in the car, at various ministries, eating in restaurants.  We've asked him a million and one more questions.  He's patiently taught us words in Amharic and hasn't laughed (too much) at our botched pronunciation.  We met his gorgeous wife and adorable baby.  We've discussed theology and politics and culture.  We know he loves burgers and pizza and chocolate. We've prayed together and we've laughed til our sides hurt.  And today he was by Andy's side all day as he extracted too many teeth to count, and he said he loved it!  (Better you than me, Sammy!)  :)

Sammy's beautiful family

Great teamwork!

 Sammy's heart for Jesus reflects in everything he does.  He has such a gentle heart and a kind way about him.  He truly cares for others and has a strong desire to help those in need.  He's generous with his time, his talents, and his money.  As we have worked alongside him this week, we have gained a deep respect for his humility and love for the least of these.  He adores children and is so good with them.  Although more on the serious side, he is quick to laugh, especially when Andy teases him (How can you be Ethiopian and not like buna?).  :)

Singing with the kids at Embracing Hope

Guacamole and chips and Coke in a bottle - doesn't get much better than that!

 Sammy's the real deal, and we have enjoyed every minute spent with him.  Thank you Sammy, for everything!!  Our lives are truly more rich having met you. May God bless you and keep you and make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you.  Much love to you and Happy Birthday!

And to everyone reading, if you are ever in Ethiopia, make sure you get in touch with Sammy!  We've got his number. :)

We got coffee, Samson got ice cream.  :)

Deep conversations at a coffee house

Ethiopia Day 3: Women at Risk

Freedom

I am more of an introvert by nature.  If I'm in a large group of people I don't know, I get overrwhelmed and tend to let others do more of the talking.  I would much rather spend quality time with one or two people than be at a large party and endure small talk.

I'm married to an extrovert.  Andy has a quick wit and is able to talk to anyone, anywhere, about anything.  He is comfortable walking into a room of strangers and making friends with everyone there.  

So yesterday was a stretching experience for me.  We were scheduled to spend time at a ministry called Women At Risk. We didn't know much going into it except that it's a program for former prostitutes.  We had no plan except to show up.  

Upon walking through the metal gate into the compound, we were told the women were in the middle of a class, and we'd have to wait a few minutes. Two little ones caught our attention, and of course we gravitated over to the corner where they were playing.  Two or three children peered at us over a metal gate, and about ten or more happily toddled around, chattering and chewing on toys and throwing balls.  Their playroom was a very simple, very small concrete block of a room - concrete walls and concrete floor covered with a thin rubber mat.  Leaning over the gate, we talked and interacted with them while they reached out with toys and high fives and smiles that lit up the whole place.  One little girl handed me a green nesting cup - one that probably every child in America owns - and I goofed around with her and placed it upside down on my head like a hat.  She gave me a quizzical look, reached out for it, and then tentatively balanced it on her own head.  I giggled and she gave me a long stare and then marched around, proud as a peacock with that little cup on her head.  

Soon the director of the program, a distinguished looking Ethiopian gentleman, approached us.  He spent a few minutes explaining how they operate, pausing while Sammy translated for us.  

Women at Risk has been in operation for over 17 years and their vision is to love, respect, and reach out to women caught in the cycle of poverty and prostitution.  There are around 150,000 prostitutes working in the capital city of Addis Ababa, and three quarters of them are estimated to be HIV+.  Women at Risk serves women who are seeking to leave that life.  After an initial introductory phase, those who show interest and determination are invited into a year-long program which involves intense counseling, mentoring and career development.  From their website:  "By the end of the year, each woman is expected to have acquired life skills that help her work through past and present life issues positively, and is financially self-sufficient through healthy employment and/or small business ownership.  To date, about 90% of the women we have worked with through the years have left prostitution and have stayed away."

Sammy told us we would probably be able to spend some time with the women who were in the yearlong program.  They were learning how to cook and sew among many other life skills, and he was thinking they'd be very open to visiting with us.

But God had other plans.

The director led us to a small room filled with twenty women who were in the first phase program - the ones who had just recently come off the streets - the ones who were brand new and most likely to be wary of new people, especially feringes (white people) from America.

I'll admit - it was really awkward.  A bunch of girls ages 17-40-something, sitting in a circle of plastic chairs staring suspiciously at us, waiting for us to say or do something.  Except we had no idea what we were supposed to say or do. 

Thankfully my extroverted husband started talking. He introduced himself as Andy, which means "strong."  Name meanings are very important in their culture.  He told them he was a dentist.  He said they were so brave to take that first step toward freedom - that it is hard when they do, but each one gets easier to follow the steps God has for them.  He told them they were beautiful daughters of the King and that Jesus loves them and has a plan to use their gifts to impact the world.   

Meanwhile I sat quietly observant, smiling and nodding and praying that God would give me something to say.

One of the girls asked a question and all eyes turned to me.  I looked questioningly at Sammy and he said, "They are wondering why you don't talk."

I started laughing and told them I'm more shy in a group, that Andy is the talker, and I like to talk to one or two people. 

One of them asked if we grew up learning about Jesus, and Andy and I both shared a little bit of our story.  Andy then asked if they had any questions for us.  They ranged from serious (Does the government give money to poor people who have children?) to curious (What's the weather like?) to downright strange (Do you paint chickens in America?).  Not sure where that idea came from!!

When the question and answer session ended, we thanked them for having us and encouraged them to keep learning about Jesus and keep trusting God to make a way for them.  We stood up to go and one woman asked for a picture. After posing with a few, the others surrounded us, clamoring for a hug, a touch, just one more picture. They were so hungry for attention and even though we couldn't communicate, we all spoke the language of affection.

The little livewire on the left, Kalkadan, held my hand and had to be in every picture.  :) Weneshet is on the right.

Finally it was time to go and we exchanged our last hugs and kisses and on the cheek.  Women who had been strangers an hour before yelled out "I love you," and waved wildly as we walked to the car, blowing kisses all the way.  

 I can't imagine a scene like that ever happening in America.  We tend to be formal and stiff, unsure of ourselves, unwilling to put ourselves out there.  We greet with a firm, polite handshake. This culture, I am learning, embraces and welcomes and hugs.  And these women, who are in the process of transforming their lives, turned awkward into intimate, and we treasure that time we spent with them.

Pray for these incredible women - pray that the love of a Savior will continue to fill them with courage to keep taking steps and show them there is hope only in Him!

Day 2 Ethiopia: Coffee Ceremony

An American's idea of a good cup of coffee is rolling through a Starbucks drive-thru and ordering an overpriced cafe latte.  Don't get me wrong, I love lattes as a treat once in awhile - cinnamon dolce to be exact.  Andy and I also drink at least two cups each of home brewed coffee every morning.  I always prepare it the night before, adding water and heaping spoonfuls of ground coffee, then set the timer so that it will be freshly brewed by the time I wake up at 5:45 am.  We love coffee.

But our coffee, whether Starbucks or home brewed, is absolutely no match for the buna (coffee) of an Ethiopian coffee ceremony.  Every Ethiopian knows how to prepare a coffee ceremony, and we had the privilege of experiencing one yesterday in Korah, one of the poorest sections of Addis. 

You smell Korah long before you see it.  As you get closer, you see the piles of trash emerging from the landscape like mountains, dotted with people and stray animals and discarded furniture and old vehicles.  The smell alone brought back memories for me of a college missions trip to Mexico where we served the people who lived in the dumps of Matamoros and Reyes.  Similar to that, Korah is a community built around garbage - and its people depend on it for food, employment, and housing.

After driving by the actual dump, we turned down a side alley lined with shanties, bumped along a dirt road, and slowed down just long enough to pick up Amasale.  Wearing a long, flowing skirt and a bright red head scarf, she jumped in our van and started chatting happily with our translators.  In another minute we stopped and there was Alem waiting for us, huge grin on her face and arms open in welcome.  "Salaamno," (hello) she said, and we all got out and exchanged hugs and kisses on the cheek.  She pointed to a narrow opening in a concrete wall and motioned for us to follow her down another alleyway, the dirt path punctuated with rocks of all shapes and sizes.  After a short walk weaving past a few mud houses, she pulled out a little key and opened a padlock hanging on her door, and welcomed us into her home.

After our eyes adjusted to the darkness, we had a chance to look around.  A small raised bed stood in one corner.  Next to it stood a simple wooden hutch containing a few mismatched kitchen utensils and cooking pots.  We sat down on a small blanket-covered mattress opposite the bed.  Laid out on the floor was a small tray, eight small white teacups, a bowl of sugar, and a stack of white saucers.

 Alem sat down and pulled out a handful of green, raw coffee beans and began rinsing them in a plastic bowl.  As she rinsed, Andy asked her to tell us about herself, and over the next half hour, she weaved the stories of her life with the ritual of the traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony.

While Alem rinsed beans, Amasale fanned the coals nestled in the bottom of the portable fire pit.  Next Alem placed the beans in a flat pan and began slowly stirring them with a metal poker, talking and pausing every so often so that Sammy could translate. We sat spellbound by the rich aromas and the beautiful lilt of the Amharic language.  A story emerged of love and loss, heartache and hope, children and blessing and poverty.  And all throughout was a message of rescue - of her God - her provider.

The beans turned a rich brown color and then Amasale took them outside and began grinding them in a large mortar and pestel.

Alem added the grounds to a simple metal teapot of water and set it over the fire to brew.  Then she carefully poured a cup of steaming, aromatic coffee for each of us, added a spoonful of sugar, and passed them out.

At home, I add a teaspoon of sugar and some hazelnut creamer to my coffee.  Andy always teases me that I'm not drinking real coffee.  I drank real coffee in that little one-room house yesterday.  And it was the most delicious coffee I have ever had in my life.  I don't know if it had more to do with the actual purity of the entire process, or the beautiful women we shared it with.

Beza, another one of our other translators, is on the bed.  She downed that coffee so fast! :)

 By American standards, these two women are poor.  Most would look at them with pity.  Yet Andy and I both agreed they are the blessed ones and it is we who are to be pitied.  "Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise..." When we have every resource at our fingertips, we have little opportunity to exercise our faith.  Both Amasale and Alem recently lost the jobs they had depended on for the meager income that allows them to buy food and rent their small houses.  Amasale told us through tears that she was very sad, but in the same breath, declared trust that God would provide.  Our tears flowed freely as we witnessed their rich faith and complete dependence on our God. Andy asked if he could pray for them.  Sammy translated, and after every sentence, in unison they both said, "Amen."  I can say they have a deeper faith then I do.  They are two of the most beautiful women with the most beautiful hearts I have ever met. 

Soon it was time to go.  We said "Amaseganala" over and over (thank you) which seemed such a paltry offering compared to what they had given us.  Amasale put her arm around me as we walked back to our van and although we exchanged no words, I hope she felt the deep respect and love I was feeling for her and her friend Alem.
 
Amasale and Alem, you showed us so much about hospitality and generosity and faith.  Thank you for that.  We will forever remember that day and that cup of coffee.  I don't know if we will see you again, but you are our sisters in Christ, which means we get to spend eternity with you. Until then, Ciao dear sisters and much love to you!

Ethiopia Day 2: Embracing Hope

Picture thirty or more three year olds running around, playing ball, peek-a-boo, climbing on your lap, playing with your hair -- and you probably think about a typical preschool, right?  Embracing Hope is just like any preschool I've been to, except there was a tree in the middle of their playroom.  And their playroom had no roof.  And it was in Ethiopia.

Christy Shannon graciously talked with us for over an hour today next to that tree.  We peppered her with questions about how they got started, how they operate, who they serve.  Meanwhile, her own children came in and out, asking for diapers, pushing kids on a merry go-round, and navigating preschoolers arguing over a ball. 

Embracing Hope started in 2009 after Christy and her husband realized the need for single moms in Korah to have daycare for their children so that they could hold down a job.  Korah is an area of Addis Ababa known as the forsaken place.  It's a city within a city and is home to the trash dump, along with an entire community of people who live and work there. EH started with about twenty kids and now serve 108 children.  The kids attend preschool and kindergarten right there at their facility  and receive two meals and snacks during the day.  Embracing Hope takes a holistic approach to serving these families by providing other services to the moms - literacy classes, groceries, and health care, and mentoring.  Some of the moms even work right there making beads which are sold as necklaces and bracelets.  Andy tried to make one and failed miserably, even though the women graciously told him, "Gobez," which means good job.  ;) You can read all about Embracing Hope on their website.  Please do -- it is an incredible ministry doing incredible things.

The children were absolutely precious, as you can imagine.  I had three little girls fighting over my lap, and one bossy one kept pushing the other two off.  :)  A little boy was fascinated with Andy's adam's apple and all wanted to touch his face.  Many stretched their arms out to be picked up or slapped a high five when prompted.  These are children who could be trailing behind their moms while they sift through trash but instead they are making friends, learning the alphabet, and being nurtured by a staff who loves them --- all so that they can go home at the end of the day with a mommy who loves them more.

There's so much more to write about this day but our internet is very spotty, and it is getting late, so it will have to wait.  We have fallen in love with this country and this culture already.  Our hearts are breaking, but not broken, because we see the hand of God everywhere we go, and we know He is redeeming us all in this journey.  Much love from Ethiopia! Ciao!

Ethiopia Day 1

A few of the sights we took in today:
*dozens of beautiful women wearing white head coverings walking home from church
*a gaggle of goats crossing through the middle of traffic
*an old bearded white guy (think Santa Claus) driving down the middle of the street on a beat-up tractor
*a flowering tree with the most delicate lavender colored flowers
*hundreds of shanties lining the road
*hundreds of people in the road, on the side of the road, crossing the road, in the middle of the road (I swear we almost hit at least 25 people today)
*three men carrying a dead dog upside down by its feet (at least I think it was dead. And I think it was a dog)
*two cows grazing on two blades of grass on the median of a busy highway
*two men digging a grave
*majestic mountains ranges rising out of the jumble of mismatched, vibrant city structures
*the most beautiful children you'll ever see

I leaned over to Andy in the car today and said, "We have to take pictures or video while we're driving.  This is just unreal.  There's no way we're going to be able to explain this to people."  I'm not even sure the pictures will do it justice.  You have to see it for yourself.  

This city is so vast and so diverse it catches your breath.  You can scarcely take it all in.  As we were driving to our guest house I kept thinking, "I'm so small.  I'm one person in this sea of humanity."

Our flight was completely uneventful.  We read, we slept, we read, we ate, we read.  Oh, and watched an episode of Friends, of course.

The lines for visas and customs were l-o-n-g.  But we met the two most adorable little girls who played Rock, Paper, Scissors and some other hand clapping game with us the entire time we were waiting.  I think we annoyed all the other grumpy people in line but their mom seemed relieved that they were talking to someone other than her for half an hour.  :)  She gave us her name and number when she left and told us to call her if we needed anything while we were in Addis.  She grew up here, and now lives in D.C.

Sammy was waiting for us and thus began our crazy car ride!  Anyone who has been overseas (or even to Mexico) knows that the rules of the road are ... well, there are no rules.  Basically just trust your driver and be glad you're not the one driving. ;)

After changing and resting a little bit, we were off to a wonderfully lively church service (think jazz concert during the offering) and then to lunch with Sammy and his wife and the cutest baby on the planet. It was our first full meal in 24 hours and wow, was it good - cheeseburgers, fries, and Coke.  Not very Ethiopian, I know, but it was Sammy's request and we were happy to oblige!  We had such fun talking with them over lunch, exchanging questions about cultural differences and life in general.

Right now I'm sitting in our room, gazing at this:

 A bunch of little kids are running up and down the hallways, playing hide and seek, being cute.  I feel right at home.  :)

We are completely and utterly exhausted, but incredibly grateful for the opportunity to experience this beautiful land and this incredibly welcoming culture.  Going to get to bed early tonight and try to catch up on the hours we missed!  Much love to you all!

~Katie

Settle me down

Bags are (almost) packed.  House is vacuumed.  Meals are in the freezer.  Itineraries are printed.  Tomorrow's the day.  In 24 hours we'll be on a plane.  CRAZINESS.

"How are you feeling?" seems to be the common question these days. 

It's hard to explain how I'm feeling.  I've run through the gamut of emotions.

Last week it was nervous.  Nervous about leaving the kids.  Nervous about being on a plane for 14 hours.  Nervous about what to pack.  Nervous about all I had to do before we left.  Nervous about entering a new culture.  Nervous about the language barrier.  Nervous about all the unknowns.

To be honest, this is W-A-Y out of my comfort zone.  Last week I was drinking coffee, sitting on our comfy green couch, looking at my home and my family and all that was familiar to me.  And it hit me, in one week there will be nothing familiar or comfortable.  Everything will be new, different, unknown, unfamiliar.  And most likely uncomfortable.  I didn't quite know what to do with that, so I just cried.  And prayed.

Now that most of my to-do list is done and the day is almost here, I feel kind-of numb.  I feel in-between - ready to go, and yet torn about leaving.  Excited for this adventure and scared of all that's ahead of us.  It's a strange feeling.  My thoughts feel fractured and scattered.

I was reading Philippians 4:6 this morning.  I always read from several versions so that I can gain perspective into the text.  The Message version says, "Don't fret or worry.  Instead of worrying, pray.  Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.  Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down."

That's what I need.  I need God's wholeness to move into my scattered pieces of worry and fear and doubt and excitement and just settle me down.  Make me whole.  Let that peace that passes understanding invade my soul.  Keep me focused and alert and ready.  God is whole.  God is good.  God is here.

Thank you friends for reading and praying.  We are hoping to update the blog somehow while we are gone, but of course, it's all unknown!  :)  If we have internet access we may be able to.  If not, you know I'll be writing everything down and will share when we return!  Thanks for your many kind words and thank you most of all for your love! 

~Katie

The Best Laid Plans

David praised the Lord in the presence of the whole assembly, saying, "Yours, O Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the majesty and the splendor, for everything in heaven and earth is Yours.  Yours, O Lord is the kingdom; You are exalted as head over all.  Now, our God, we give you thanks, and praise Your glorious Name."  1 Chronicles 29:11, 13

These are the last recorded words of King David before he died.  David's lifelong dream was to build a temple for Israel, a religious center for his beloved nation, a place for all to come together in unity to worship.  This prayer comes on the heels of David presenting the building materials and the very detailed plans for how to build it.  But David's plans were not God's plans.

God's plan was for David's son, Solomon, to be the one with "built the first temple" added to his resume.

As I was reading this passage my only thought was, "How is David able to praise God right now?"  He's the one who spent years gathering wood and precious metals.  He's the one who gave out of his own personal fortune.  He's the one who advertised and built momentum and got everyone on board.  And all for naught - because he died before the first stone was laid.

And yet He praised God.

He so easily could've swung on the side of jealousy.  Which would lead to disappointment and bitterness.  His dream was stripped from him and given to another. He had every right to be deeply hurt by God.

How fragile we humans are.  One split-second thought can change the entire trajectory of our lives.  One negative thought can turn into a pattern.  The pattern can take root and grow into a tree of bitterness and sin. How easily David could've turned hurt into jealousy, jealousy into bitterness, and bitterness into a lonely end to a beautifully full life.

As I was reading and writing about this something struck me.  Solomon's greatest accomplishment as recorded on his resume (the Bible) is the construction of the temple.

What is David known for?  "But God removed Saul and replaced him with David, a man about whom God said, 'I have found David son of Jesse, a man after my own heart. He will do everything I want him to do.'"  Acts 13:22

In earthly terms. David missed out.  But you know what?  The temple was eventually destroyed.  And then rebuilt.  And then destroyed again.  But David's legacy is one that lives forever.  A man sold out for God.  A man full of mistakes and also full of abundant forgiveness and grace.  A man who danced and sang when he could have wallowed in bitterness.  A man who obeyed "everything I want him to do." A man who was able to acknowledge there was One who was greater than he.

God, when I am disappointed by life, by unfulfilled dreams, by thwarted plans - remind me that the fulfillment of my plan is not the end goal.  You are my goal.  Praising You is my goal.  Reflecting You in all I do is my goal.  I would rather be known for my love for You can for anything I could build with my hands.  

Now, our God, we give You thanks, and praise Your glorious Name!

Jericho

Then the Lord said to Joshua, "See, I have delivered Jericho into your hands, along with its king and its fighting men.  March around the city once with all the armed men.  Do this for six days.  Have seven priests carry trumpets of rams' horns in front of the ark.  On the seventh day, march around the city seven times, with the priests blowing the trumpets.  When you hear them sound long blast on the trumpets, have all the people give a loud shout, then the wall of the city will collapse and the people will go up, every many straight in."  Joshua 6:2-5

For those of us who grew up in church, this is a well-known and well-loved story.  As children we probably watched a Sunday school teacher reenact the tale on a flannel board (if you don't know what a flannel board is, then you are much younger than me).  :)  Maybe we acted it out once or twice.  Last year Jonas and I made the walls of Jericho out of blocks and marched his little toy men around it.  It's a familiar story.

It's tempting to skip quickly through the text when it's that familiar, thinking we already know it.   But sometimes we pause and really imagine these people as real people, and Jericho as a real place.

Who stands before a 25-foot high, 20-foot thick wall and believes they can bring it down merely by walking and shouting and blowing on a trumpet?

As I look back at my life, I see that there were many times that I stood at a crossroads facing a choice: Believe God is real and trust Him, or believe in myself and trust me.  One of the hardest and most significant was when facing a miscarriage at 12 weeks pregnant.  Sophia was about one and a half, and I had planned and figured out and decided that I would love to have my babies two years apart.  And that's exactly what happened.  Sophia's birthday is in April; this baby's due date was April 1st.  Perfect.  But at 9 weeks, I started bleeding.  And at 12 weeks I found out the baby had died.  Along with all my dreams and hopes and plans for that little addition to our family.  It was a devastating loss for me.  I retreated from life and friends, holed myself up, couldn't bear to go out and face a world that was happy and moving forward with their lives.  My life had stopped; couldn't they see that?  

At some point in my mourning, I realized I had to make a choice:  Believe God is real and trust Him, or believe in myself and trust me.  

How could I trust a God that took something so precious from me?  I had prayed and prayed over this baby.  I had asked for healing.  I had done all the right things.  

But at the same time, I had done all the right things; and I still had no control over the outcome.  

"Could I trust God and believe He is working out something good even from things that seem no good?"

--Lysa Terkheurst, Unglued

Life is hard.  Life is confusing. It's full of loss and heartache and pain and suffering.  There are more questions than answers.  But God told us that.  He admitted there would be pain.  But His pain comes with a promise.

"In this world you will have trouble, but take heart, for I have overcome the world."  John 16:33

If we can believe that God will bring beauty from our pain, it's that much easier to loosen our grip and go all in to trust Him.  In the midst of it, that is such a hard thing to do.  But He doesn't ask us to figure it all out, He just asks us to take His hand and trust Him and watch to see what He will do.

Joshua stood at a crossroads that day.  Believe and trust or turn away and figure out His own plan.  I was thinking this morning about Joshua's past, where He had come from.  What He had seen.

--Joshua was born a slave in Egypt and lived in slavery for about 40 years.

--Joshua grew up hearing about the Promised Land and wishing for freedom.

--Joshua was an active participant in the exodus from Egypt and witnessed God perform miracle after miracle, enabling them to escape to freedom. (Exodus 6-11)

--Joshua walked on the dry ground of the Red Sea as the Egyptians attempted one last attempt at capturing the slaves they just freed.   (Exodus 14:21-30)

--Joshua was Moses' close friend and confidante, and accompanied Moses partway up Mount Sinai, where Moses received the Ten Commandments. (Exodus 35:15-21)

--Joshua spent 40 years walking the desert looking for the Promised Land, and witnessed the pillar of smoke by day and cloud of fire at night, along with daily manna for their nourishment. (Exodus 13:21,22)

--Joshua received the promise of Canaan, the Promised Land, along with all the Israelites.  After rising to become the new leader, God told Joshua: "Moses my servant is dead.  Now then, you and all these people get ready to cross the Jordan River into the land I am about to give them -- to the Israelites."  (Joshua 1:1,5)

--Joshua walked on dry ground (for the second time in his life) of the Jordan River. God stopped the flow of water at flood levels so that the Israelites could cross over to Canaan, where the city of Jericho stood. (Joshua 3:1-17) 

[ref: http://www.keyway.ca/htm2002/joshua2.htm]

And so here he stands, staring at the fortified city of Jericho, with the words of God echoing in his mind: "See, I have delivered Jericho into your hands...march around the city...blow a trumpet...give a shout...the wall will collapse."

After seeing God part rivers and send plagues and sprinkle bread from the sky -- could He believe that God would bring down a 25-foot wall?

After seeing what God had brought them through already, could He trust that He would carry them through this?

After hearing about the Promised Land for the past 40 years, could He even imagine God wouldn't be faithful to His promise?

 Would God really turn His back now? 

Would God really turn His back now, after I lost a baby?  Could I trust Him to bring good from a tragedy?  Could I look back on the things He had already brought me through and believe He would bring me through this? 

Yes. Yes. And Yes.

God is faithful to His promises.  He either is.  Or He's not.  We either trust Him or we trust ourselves.  There really is no middle ground.

"When the trumpets sounded, the people shouted, and at the sound of the trumpet, when the people gave a loud shout, the wall collapsed."  Joshua 6:20

And Joshua led His people into the Promised Land.

God is faithful to His promises.  When I wake up in a panic and start worrying about all that could happen, all that could go wrong -- whether in Ethiopia or driving to preschool -- I have to remind myself of who God is.  God is faithful.  God can be trusted.  Even if. 

"As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you."  Joshua 1:5