A common scene along the road

A common scene along the road


At an early hour, we will begin the journey back to Addis Ababa. The soil in the west is a deep red. At some point during the trip, it changes to black, and we know that we have left the west and are nearing the capital city. It is bittersweet, leaving our family in Aira.

We will stay at the American Guest House in Addis Ababa this night.



“You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name” (Deuteronomy 5:11).

A prayer by Walter Brueggemann, Old Testament scholar:

We are your people and mostly we don’t mind,
Except that you do not fit any of our categories.
We keep pushing
                and pulling
                and twisting
                and turning,
                trying to make you fit the God we would rather have,

                                and every time we distort you that way
                                                we end up with an idol more congenial to us.

In our more honest moments of grief and pain
                we are very glad that you are who you are,
                and that you are toward us in all your freedom
                what you have been toward us.

So be your faithful self
                and by your very engagement in the suffering of the world,
                transform the world even as you are being changed.

We pray in the name of Jesus,
                who is the sign of your suffering love. Amen.


It was another long day, driving from Aida to Addis Ababa. However, it was a long day filled with the glories of God's creation and the grace of God's people.

We spent many hours just looking out the windows of the LandRover, viewing the amazing countryside -- the deep gullies, the lofty hills, the fields like a patchwork quilt of various shades of green and yellow and gold, the men sauntering down the road, the women stooped over with bundles of sticks or grain, the little boys darting here and there as they chase goats and sheep, the little girls walking with such dignity and grace, the footpaths cutting through groves of trees or grassland, women and children standing in front of grass huts watching us shoot by. Do they wonder where we are going? Do they wish they could venture beyond their small village or farm? I wonder . . . .

We stopped in Nekemte for late breakfast/early lunch, then drove on through to Addis Ababa, where we were glad to find our rooms at the American Guest House. 

Tomorrow we have people to meet and places to go!