Thursday, December 1, 2011

Thankful & Giving...

I started writing and almost finished, when, I realized- I'm preaching to the choir here.
Let's put the most important pieces first.
You all know what it means for a child to not be able to contribute, with physical labor, to the family in rural Ethiopia.
How does a child wrangle the camels, graze the goats, or drive the donkey's with club feet?

You all know what happens when a family loses a father.
Perhaps we know, too well.

You all know what it will mean for this child to grow, marry and become a father himself. 
You all know that without this surgery ... it gets harder to imagine. 
Harder to know.
For we have seen it with our own eyes.
Perhaps we have touched it with our hands.
We can not deny it.
For our hearts have certainly felt it.

So the important part is here:
As an 'other' honory put in LIZ MCGOVERN's name (this will track donation for support of these patients)
It took me 3 minutes to do it. 
Do not get lost in internet links land. Go now. Click here.
Please share Scoop's link on your own site, blog, fB and tweet. 

 After you are done with that- come back and click here for the back story.

Ok- back to the drivel I was tapping out before....
It's amazing. Provision. 

I worry. 
Feign giving it to God.
With all true meaning to do just that, but it is truly so foreign that, perhaps, it can never really be accomplished. 

We live complex.
Oh, I can 'say' we live simply. Our home run-down modest.
I can 'say' I'm grateful for the $30 balance.
And it is even true, for moments here and there.
But do I live it? 
Do I live grateful?

Do I live giving to those in need, without questioning what I will have left?
No. I don't. 
I count the cost.
I question, what about me?
What about tomorrow?
Will we have any left?

It has been said time and again, that Ethiopian people are the most generous people on earth. Friends, family and acquaintances who travel extensively will recount the number of times they are invited to share a meal or coffee. They will recount the entering of the dirt floor home, with a pad on the floor, where many people sleep. I read of the host gratefully joyful, long preparing coffee ceremony and serving the last bits of food in the home.  Some of this is likely misperception through western lenses. For we hoard and stock up so instinctively, we haven't a clue what is needed on simply a daily basis and have a different room for every different activity, one for sleeping, one for eating, one for cooking, one for TV....
For now, I want to focus on the generosity. The giving.

Ethiopians are full of spirit. 
Full of God. 
Regardless of the name to which the bow nor book upon which they adore, God truly lives in them. 
They, seemingly, know this, without doubt.

For how else can they give all they have without worry? 
Without anxiety of what the morrow brings? 

It is a life lesson, I grapple with.
Do not count the cost. 
Live simply. 
Uncovered by the stuff that weighs us me down keeping me further from God. 
Give the last and know that God provides. 
Without question. 
Grateful to give joyfully.

When I speak of the generosity of the Ethiopian people and being touched, moved and inspired by it; please do not mistake that as saying "they gave me a child. Oh, most generous." This is not that post, nor is that a true statement.

God has provided. 
Thank you for praying.
Fully felt thank you.
That formerly $30 balance, went to Ethiopia yesterday.
Joyfully given.

He is merciful.

I do not know what happens tomorrow. 
But he does.
And he will provide.
We do not lack.

Five years ago, upon review of an ultra sound, it was known, my cousin would be born with club feet.
Born, casts and braces made and fit.
Months later, surgeries easily scheduled. 
Pain meds easily provided. 
Care readily available.
By 1.5 years old, he was without any sign of his birth anomaly.

He is graceful.

Around the same time, in rural Ethiopia, a child was born with club feet.
Let us not get bogged down in the what we can not do.
Not, in what we did not do.
Not, in what didn't happen.
Not even, in the lack of care available.
We can not take care of his goats or cattle for him.
We can not drive him the 6+ hours to Addis Ababa for surgery
We can not sit by his side.
We can not get his medicine.
We can not nurse him back to health.

We can not imagine the Godly hope his father carried in knowing God would provide.
We can not be the surgeons hands.

But we can provide.
What was given to us, can be given to him.

We can give.
We can joyfully gratefully give what has always been provided.
Do not count the cost.
Live simply.
Know that the morrows will bring healing for this child.

He is most faithful of all.


Annie said...

This is beautiful Shannon. Thank you.

scooping it up said...

This really was beautiful. Got a bit weepy.