|
By Angie Appenheimer
 | | Abbotsford’s Angie Appenheimer with some young Ethiopian friends. | “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, this is your captain speaking. Due to the volcanic
activity and plumes of ash in our immediate airway, we will not be able to land
in Frankfurt.”
It was mid-April, and the Icelandic volcano was disrupting air travel all over
Europe. I was on my way to a rural medical clinic in Sululta, Ethiopia with a Hope International Development team; at least, I thought I was.
Now we were stuck in Munich. I saw passengers receiving pillows and blankets
over the counter. We began to doubt whether our mission would succeed. We began
to pray.
Hours later, we were on the last flight before the airport was shut down. We
arrived in Ethiopia to the news that our luggage – full of our supplies – had been lost.
We soldiered on, first visiting Korah – a community of lepers, prostitutes and orphans. They had no clean water, no
health care; children competed with wild animals for scraps of food. Weakened
mothers, often carrying babies on their backs, earned meagre wages hauling
heavy boulders all day. Limbless people walked about, missing fingers, hands or
feet.
And yet, their hearts were alive. They smiled, waved, reached out, invited,
cried tears of joy. One man said, “Why have you come? No one dares to come and see us. We are the forgotten.” Our hearts dropped to their depths.
Continue article >>
|
The next day, we went to the rural clinic, as planned. While memories of our
work the previous year brought images of huge lineups and open-hearted
welcomes, we came upon a mere 10 people or less, with no certification papers
for our nurses and a clear indication that we were not wanted.
A variety of tensions had squelched the mission. All the months of praying,
planning and expecting great things came crashing down.
By the end of the day, however, it was clear that what we had perceived as our
plans falling apart was just God redirecting us. He didn’t ask us for our blueprints; he didn’t say there wouldn’t be roadblocks.
I am grateful God allowed our luggage to be lost. He brought it back to us just in time for us to give our supplies away, to help
with the many needs we saw. Our supplies went to the rural clinic that had sent us away, and to the Mother
Teresa House, a compound of 800 poor people. They also went to street kids,
orphans – and to the outcasts in Korah.
Medical supplies, clothes, shoes, blankets, toys, school supplies, soccer balls,
skipping ropes . . . God brought it all through the ashes – and into the heart of the very darkness where he called us to bring his light.
We were indeed sidetracked – God’s way!
Angie Appenheimer works at Hope Adoption Agency.
June 2010
|