I Went to Ethiopia to Serve. I Came Home Having Been Served. There is a temptation after a mission trip to spend most of your time talking about what you did. I find myself wanting to do the opposite. Thanks for reading The Lamp of the West! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. I spent a week in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia with a ministry called 5 Loaves. We were serving The Hope Center, a ministry in the Merkato district, one of the poorest districts in the city. We played games with kids, served them food, visited families, worshiped together, and encouraged the staff. Those things definitely mattered. Yet the longer I have reflected on the trip, the more I have become convinced that God took me to Ethiopia to learn just as much as He sent me to serve. I went expecting to serve, but instead, God used faithful brothers and sisters on the other side of the world to expose the tendencies of my own heart The Ethiopia I Expected Before leaving for Ethiopia, I carried assumptions that I now laugh at. I expected extreme heat, but instead, the weather was beautiful. One afternoon it even hailed so hard that we had to run for cover. I expected poverty to result in hopelessness. I expected to find people who had become fully dependent upon American generosity which leads into what was perhaps my greatest concern. It was not for my own safety, but for the ministry itself. I feared discovering another well-intentioned organization that, despite good motives, had unintentionally created dependence rather than dignity. I was wrong. The Hope Center does not exist to keep families dependent upon foreign support. It exists to help families work to get out of the poverty they are in, while protecting children from the hardship that comes with that. Alongside feeding more than 150 children each weekday, often the only meals many of them receive, they teach English, teach the Scriptures, and invest in parents through skills training so they can build businesses, earn income, and provide for their own families. Their goal is not perpetual charity. Their goal is restoration. That difference matters. Christian mercy should never merely relieve today’s suffering if it can also help restore tomorrow’s hope. A Gospel That Produces Contentment The greatest surprise of the week was not the ministry. It was the people. One young boy named Ilrohoy attached himself to me almost immediately. Almost everywhere I went while at The Hope Center, he was there, with a large smile on his face. By the end of the week, he was calling me his brother. But Ilrohoy was not unique in this. Again and again, I witnessed a kind of joy that was difficult to explain. Repeatedly throughout the week we would see that if a child noticed the person beside them had received slightly less food, they would quietly begin sharing their own portion without being asked. They even tried to share their food with us. Think about that for a moment. These would be the only meals these kids would eat that day (and if it was Monday, their first since Friday). Yet their instinct was generosity. During a kindergarten graduation ceremony, the older teenagers did not roll their eyes or scroll through their phones. They participated. They celebrated the younger children as though they were celebrating their own brothers and sisters. In many ways, they were. The love they showed one another was not manufactured for visiting Americans. It had become part of the culture of the Hope Center. They were all in the same place in life, all going through the same things. I kept thinking of Jesus’ words: “By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” - John 13:35 LSB For all of our discussions about church growth strategies, this is still one of the most convincing apologetics in the world. “I Can’t, But God Can” Throughout the whole week, the kids would noticed my small tattoo on my wrist. It simply says, “But God” in Greek, a reference to Ephesians 2:4. The moment I explained this, their faces lit up. They immediately pointed to a large painted sign at the Hope Center that read: “I can’t, but God can.” Different words. The same gospel. That small moment captured something beautiful about the week. Thousands of miles separated our lives. We had different cultures, different languages, and different economic realities. Yet Christ had given us the same hope, the same grace, and the same Father. The Poverty God Wanted Me to See The greatest poverty I encountered in Ethiopia was material, but the greatest poverty I discovered was my own tendency toward discontentment. Before leaving for Ethiopia, I found myself complaining that our home felt too small. With a fourth child on the way, I found myself thinking constantly about needing more space. There is nothing sinful about wanting to improve your family’s situation. Scripture commends diligent work and wise provision. But walking into homes much smaller than mine, occupied by families as large as mine, or even larger than mine, put my complaints into perspective. I realized how often abundance teaches us to focus on what we lack. These Ethiopian believers reminded me how to notice what God has already given me. And my gratitude has become more specific since I have returned home. I have: * Clean water * Reliable electricity * Good roads * Plumbing * A refrigerator full of food * Consistent work These are gifts. Somewhere along the way, I had quietly promoted them to expectations, and that is how thankfulness dies. God’s Steadfast Hand One of the themes that quietly wove itself through the entire week was the steadfastness of God. Before traveling to Ethiopia, I assumed that poverty would be the defining characteristic of the people I met. And that was very prevalent and prominent, after all it is the 30th poorest nation in the world. Instead, what stood out most was God’s faithfulness. I saw it in children who eagerly recited Scripture from memory. I saw it in parents who spoke with gratitude about the Hope Center, not merely because it provided meals for their children, but because it had become a place where they were loved, taught, and encouraged while their parents worked. I saw it in a ministry that seeks not only to meet immediate needs, but to equip families with skills, dignity, and hope for the future. Throughout the week I found myself returning again and again to Galatians 6, Philippians 4, Hebrews 13:5, and Psalm 23. Though each passage speaks in its own way, they all proclaim the same truth: the Lord is faithful. He has not forgotten His people. He provides daily bread. He strengthens weary saints. He remains steadfast. The circumstances of His children may differ dramatically from one place to another, but His character never changes. That was one of the greatest comforts I brought home with me. What Ethiopia Taught Me Mission trips often change the people we visit less than they change the people who go. That was certainly true for me. I left Ethiopia wanting to complain less, to pray more, to pursue contentment more intentionally, and to support ministries like the Hope Center that seek not merely to relieve poverty, but to cultivate flourishing through the love of Christ. Most of all, I hope I never forget the faces of those children. I hope I remember Ilrohoy calling me his brother. I hope I remember children sharing food they could scarcely spare. I hope I remember teenagers celebrating kindergarten graduates. I hope I remember believers whose confidence rested not in prosperity, but in the steadfast goodness of God. I traveled to Ethiopia believing I was bringing something to them. I returned realizing how much they had given to me. Perhaps that is one of God’s favorite ways of humbling His people. We go thinking we are carrying blessings in our hands, only to discover that He has already prepared them for us in the hearts of our brothers and sisters. If you want to learn more about 5 Loaves, visit their website or facebook page. Thanks for reading The Lamp of the West! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. Get full access to The Lamp of the West at lampofthewest.substack.com/subscribe
