Sunday, March 31, 2013


Hard Stop                           
Saturday:

I have nothing profound or deeply spiritual to say today.  We have been travelling for almost 24 hours.  Everything has been amazingly smooth (with a couple of small exceptions) and unusually beautiful at times.  We arrived at the Indy airport to find almost no one in the ticket line - amazing to me given that Spring Break has sprung in Indy and it's Easter weekend.  My travelling companion is Lisa, Carlos’ school teacher.  The rest of our team flew out Thursday.  Due to teaching and other scheduling conflicts, Lisa and I left Friday.  True to mission trip form, we both had our full allowable luggage load – two full-sized suitcases and two carry-ons each, all loaded to or sometimes just above the weight limit of 50 pounds with our minimal personal items and as many donations as we can stuff in.  Check-in is always a dance of shifting items from one bag to another until each one skims in under or at the weight limit.  Sometimes the airline personnel are gracious and helpful, other times impatient and rude.  I won’t name airline names, but those of us who have flown more than once know which airline is which. 

Yesterday, God gave us an angel at check-in, literally.  Angel was the very nice gentleman who checked us in and then allowed us no less than 15 minutes to weigh, unzip, switch, repack, rezip, and reweigh a couple dozen times.  My wonderful husband was the muscle who lifted those 50+ pound bags off and on the scale all those dozens of times.  In the end, with Angel allowing us 50.8 pounds and 50.6 pounds on a couple of bags, we were within weight limit on everything, sacrificing only one ream of computer paper to the weight restrictions.  Angel said, “I hope you are going on mission?”  I laughed.  Yes.  I can’t imagine any other reason that would merit this luggage tango.  He then informed us he had been to Ethiopia himself on a mission trip with his church within the last year.  I love divine appointments.

We had lunch with our precious families and then made our way to our gate.  Arriving 5 short minutes after the boarding process had begun, we were almost left behind because everyone else was already on the plane and ready to leave.  We left 15 minutes early for O’Hare, a relief as almost every flight out of O’Hare is delayed. 

We boarded an enormous Boeing in Chicago, headed for Frankfurt, Germany.  Pulling away from the gate at the exact departure time, I was amazed at how well this trip was going.  As we taxi’d leisurely to the runway, the huge plane suddenly slammed to a stop.  I actually thought we had hit something, although I didn’t hear the crunch of metal you would expect with an accident.  A voice somewhere in the plane screamed out, “Oh, my God!”  The pilot announced that another aircraft had cut us off and he’d had to slam on the brakes, an odd experience in a huge airplane.  We taxi’d a bit longer, and then the pilot came back on and told us that two flight attendants had been up and about during the incident, had been thrown down, and were injured.  We had to go back to our gate so they could get medical attention.  Yikes.  We now needed two new crew members.  Where does one get those on short notice?  One hour later, we pulled away from the gate again, a new crew member on board and on our way with no other issues. 

As we flew over the Atlantic, in the middle of the night, I watched a three quarter moon rise over what looked like the ocean, but was actually a sea of clouds.  Occasionally the clouds would part, and I could see the moon reflecting off the water below.  It was magnificent.  I was reminded of God as Creator, the maker of beautiful, wonderful, indescribable things. 

We landed in Frankfurt with too many hours to kill, despite our delay.  Neither of us cared for the Frankfurt airport – sparse, old, and unfriendly - but were soon off on our next 8 hour flight to Khartoum, Sudan.  I don’t relish this part of the trip.  I am never comfortable in Khartoum.  I’ve flown through there 3 or 4 times now, and I’m better than I used to be, but I don’t enjoy it.  Sudan is not on my list of places where I want to hang out.  We landed with another hard stop.  The runways in Khartoum are apparently very short.  I swear I heard the tires squeal.  However, I watched the sun set over Sudan today, and it was stunning.  Khartoum sits in the Sahara Desert, and everything in and around the city is brown – desert, buildings, roads, open fields.  The only color is an occasional brightly painted building of turquoise or yellow and a green patchwork quilt of irrigated land running along either side of the Nile.  As we taxi’d to the runway, the setting sun turned all the buildings a glowing orange, and as we took off, the sun sank halfway behind the horizon, sky blending with ground until you couldn’t differentiate the two, a huge blazing ball of red fire sinking lower into the darkness as we climbed.  The sun turned the wispy clouds skirting the whole horizon neon orange, rosy pink, and bright, metallic gold.  It was breathtaking.  Once again, God’s glory emblazoned for all to see. 

The stop in Khartoum was short, and as I type, we are now on the last 1½ hour leg to Addis Ababa.  Five airports and over 24 hours after departure, we’ll be in Ethiopia.  I have to say, this trip is hard.  It’s long.  The changing flights require miles of walking (or what seems like miles) bearing carry-ons that are much heavier now than they will be on the way home.  The flying requires many long hours of sitting in cramped space.  Time shifts by 8 hours, and you can’t sleep, at least not comfortably or for long periods.  The food is edible, but not healthy or delicious.  And getting into Ethiopia takes almost as much time as getting there.  Not really, but it sure seems like it.  The visa line, customs, waiting for baggage, x-raying baggage, dragging everything out of the airport by yourself until you finally see the precious faces of dear Ethiopian friends waiting for you behind security lines in the parking lot.  It’s long and exhausting.

And yet, as I imagine walking out of the Bole’ airport and looking out from its hilltop view over the city, breathing in the cool African night air, seeing faces of those I’ve come to love, thinking of the tender care we can give to precious women and children, some sweetly familiar and others new, I think, “It’s worth it.”  Whatever it takes, it’s so worth it. 

So thank You, God, for the moonrise, and the sunset, and Your protection as we travel.  Thank You for this place that has become a part of me.  Thank You for friends half way round the world.  And thank You for the privilege of serving the ones You love.