He is able. Immeasurably more than we can think or ask or imagine. He can do it all through His power at work in us (Holy Spirit). I am meditating on these words in a fresh way today. It's a beautiful fall day in Knoxville with temperatures finally dipping, leaving cool wisps of wind on my face, and sunshine casting down the most intricate shadows through the barren tree limbs. I just reread my blog posts from October 19th, 2016 here. In a flash, I am right back sitting in that white stuffy van pulling into that green gate for the first time. I can smell the smells of raw meat and unregulated exhaust fumes of the city and hear the sounds of horns honking Addis Ababa by simply closing my eyes. My heart was racing, my head was swirling, and my eyes were filled with tears that I was constantly batting away. No one could have prepared us for what that day would entail, how it would feel, what would transpire, how He would prove He had been knitting us together, or what it would be like to hold Tyson for the very first time. As I rewatched the video of our first meeting again today, I noticed something I had never noticed before. Just after Mark hugged Tyson and he came to me, I gave him a big hug and then I stroked the side of his face. It's almost like I couldn't believe he was standing there while also wanting to feel what it felt like to physically touch God's faithfulness. Standing right in front of me in a white, plaid button-up, short shaved hair, and the cutest little dark dress pants was an answer to at least a million prayers. I am not sure how many bottles of tears I had cried over Tyson at that point, but I recall knowing right then that God knew and He had held them in His bottle (Psalm 56:8), knowing all the while that this day would come. Mourning turned to dancing.
As I noted on the original blog last year, Mengistu (who we now all know as our beloved Menge) was our Bethany host. However, a year later, Menge wasn't just our Bethany host. He is the one Bryeen told me yesterday he wanted to live with when he moves to Ethiopia family. We had no idea on that fateful day what the Lord was orchestrating between our family and Menge, but my goodness it was beautiful. Since then, Menge has come and spent a week with our family at the beginning of August cue the tears. I will save that special trip for a later post about Menge, but because this post is about God being able to do immeasurably more, I wanted to include what God has done in and through Menge in just one short year. While we were in Ethiopia we had many candid conversations with Menge about life, Jesus, callings, equipping, the Church (global), and finding Menge a godly, gorgeous, Godly wife. On more than one occasion Menge shared with us about a passion he had to serve the street boys in Addis Ababa. The passion was clear, but at the time the vision and "how" weren't so clear. He and Mark spent countless hours in conversation about leadership, following Holy Spirit,trusting, faith, etc. When we left Ethiopia, we left a small monetary gift with Menge specifically for his ministry that he had plans to call "Hope Overflowing." We did it simply to let him know we believed in him and the call and passion God had clearly put on his heart. While Menge was in the states in August, "Hope Overflowing" got its official 501c3 status! Menge had started spending time with 12 street boys, feeding them, offering them friendship, hope, love, and providing them with jobs (start up fee to give one boy all he needs to have a street business is only $12!). I would love for any of you interested in this AMAZING ministry to follow along here. You can sign up for updates and celebrate along with us that since Menge returned back to Ethiopia from the States, Hope Overflowing has leased a house and now all 12 boys have a home, security, and safety. We wholeheartedly believe in the work God is doing through Menge and Hope Overflowing and we can't wait to see Him do immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine in the next year!
I also introduced you to mentioned Meselu in the original 2016 post. Meselu was Tyson's social worker in Ethiopia. She is the one who had sat him down and on October 17, 2016, handed him a photo book of our family, introducing him to his new family. I asked Tyson about that conversation with Meselu on Tuesday (one year since he had found out he had a family) to see what he remembered. He said, "I don't understand Amharic anymore, so I can't tell you what she said." Living your life between two worlds by the time you are six gets confusing. I answered him by saying, "Well, do you remember in English what she said?" He smiled a half-grin and shrugged and said, "I just really loved the pictures." As we talked on and I prodded a bit more about the day, I finally just asked him, "Did you sleep with that picture book the first night?" He leaned into me, smiling, and said, "No, but I kept it beside my bed and woke up two times in the night to look at it." I am not sure how he could see the pictures in the night with no power, but it brought fresh tears to my eyes to imagine a 5 year-old waking twice in the night to make sure it hadn't all been a dream. Finally, we finished the conversation with him saying, "I went to bed just really happy that night." Somehow I feel certain that sweet thing laid his head on his pillow with a fresh peace that his young heart couldn't articulate, but if it could it might whisper, "more than I could've asked or imagined." He is able.
One of the last things Tyson said to us as we were preparing to leave him after our first visit was, "Thank you and I love you." Heaven help. I can't hold in the tears. We are the ones who feel like that is what we should be saying. Ty is unusually full of gratitude for a six year old. He literally thanks us and everyone who does anything for him profusely. At first I bent over backwards telling him that we knew he was thankful and he didn't have to keep saying it for us to keep him. WE ARE KEEPING YOU NO MATTER WHAT. But, I now know he really is just so aware of anyone working around him, anyone serving him, anyone who needs help. It's just part of how God wired him. The "I love you's" weren't always so free-flowing initially, but just since I sat at our table to start this post, he has called to me from the other room twice with, "Mom, I love you." Nothing delights me more than for him to know he is loved and safe here.
I also mentioned on our first visit with Tyson at the orphanage that he fell and skinned his knee. We, of course, doted over him and babied him like he was made of porcelain. Now, I know he is one tough cookie! Just a few weeks after coming home he fell down steps at church racing down the stairs with his brothers . By the time I got to him, he already had a HUGE pump knot on his forehead (can I get an "Amen" from our church medical team who responded that day?). His nose and lips were bleeding and when he saw me he stood up staggering and trying to focus and said, "I am ok, Mom." I assured him it was ok not to be ok! We doctored his wounds and he healed just fine. But, we have noted how he rarely tells us when he is hurt. Just recently he got a huge carpet burn down the front of his face during the middle of the first Tennessee football game of the year. I was apparently so into the game that I didn't notice until the next morning because he never told us! I am not sure if he chooses to keep quiet because he really does have a high pain tolerance or if he was so accustomed to being hurt and having no one respond he learned to cope on his own. We are still working through that, but we do often remind him that when something hurts, he needs to tell Mommy or Daddy.
As I conclude today, my heart is celebrating how far we have come while also grieving for those still in the wait. So many families are continuing to fight long, hard, uncertain battles for their children. I am praying, in faith, believing God to be all He says He is, capable of doing all He says He can do, with you! He has done it for us and He can do it again.
He is able. Immeasurably more, Lord, that's what You do. We are thankful.
until tomorrow,
carrie
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