First Update: Pardon uncreative title

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Salaam~
It's Wednesday here and I'm halfway through my first week of working at the Adoption Advocacy Int'l-- an orphanage in Addis Ababa. Anyways let me start from the beginning. It is a huge shift in thinking as you walk the streets of Addis. In the United States, there are the ghettos and there are the wealthy streets. One rarely sees it side by side. But here, wealth and poverty live together. There is both hope of development but there is despair in the hollow gazes of the beggars, the children's faces who's first gestures might have been hands folded in begging. It was difficult to not think of this place as "god forsaken". I came here to learn about God's work in Ethiopia... in Africa and hopefully for the churches everywhere. I came here to also learn about the social injustices that keep humans living in inhumane ways. However, within a couple of hours, I stood there with shot nerves and completely hopeless. Poverty, I've come to realize was more than structural but in the heart of these hollow ghosts that walk the streets. I suppose it was a blessing to learn that about poverty. It completely renews my idea of "help" I'm still trying to seek the Lord in all the corners. It's so difficult and I ask that you pray for our hearts to be sensitive to the Spirit and His work. My time for the internet is running out. I'm truly sorry for the lack of indepth entries. But I leave you with this. I am still trying to grasp the part of the Lord's Prayer: "thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven". I ask you, what does it mean to be poor? What place does the poor have in the kingdom of heaven. How do we bring this kingdom to those who need it most? I hope to find the answers or at least get on the right track by the end of the trip.

the dust rises toward the sky blanketed by your shadow
you run your fingers through our hair.
as the train of your robe sweeps these streets unfit for kings and prophets--
the streets the blind, lame and hungry have inherited,
you touch your face to our feet,
and kiss our dusty toes
while we flee for cover under the drooping roof
of a gas station

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