Seeking Wisdom

Ephesians 5:18 – “And do not get drunk on wine, in which lies debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit.” Surely this is an injunction against going farther with a girl than you would have had you been sober. Surely this is an injunction against getting too drunk at a family party and cussing loudly in front of your young cousins. And this is most certainly an order to stop the behavior that leads you to be passed out on a riverbank, too drunk to stand even after you’ve puked five times, so that your friend has to carry you to the nearest road, where you get picked up by a guy in a pickup truck who won’t let you sit in the cab so you lay in the bed like roadkill.               Then he says that you should spend “a little more time reading the good book and a little less with the fourteen extra,” whatever that means. Talk about providing witness.            ...

One of the things I’ve observed here in Ethiopia that I love about their culture is the prevalence of physical affection. Shaking hands is not just for introductions, nearly every time you see someone you make physical contact with them. A person you know is never just something you see, you feel them every time you interact. Men who are closer will shake hands then lean in and bump their shoulders together. It looks a little strange at first, but it’s so much more affectionate than a handshake. Partly because it takes longer, partly because you can shake someone’s hand with your faces four feet apart, but you brush ears if you’re bumping shoulders. When men are walking together they are hanging all over each other. Holding hands, an arm around a shoulder, one holding another’s wrist. It’s a bit shocking to see at first, especially coming from America, the no-touch zone. It’s been refreshing for me seeing this culture, as I’ve always been touchy. My mom would say that my pr...

"Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you!" This trip to Addis Ababa has been one of the more difficult experiences of my life. Fun, fulfilling, and something I will forever be grateful for to be sure, but nonetheless difficult. The longest I had been out of the country before was only a week, and that was with seven people I was already friends with. Now I am come for two weeks, with just three people I’ve hardly known before we came, though I know better now. The loneliness has been difficult, and only felt more so in boredom. When I am working on the sensors, riding around seeing Addis, or sitting in meetings, I am not aware of it. But when I return to my hotel room, alone, I remember my home, and everyone I love seven thousand miles away. The locals that will walk with you on the street offer a false pretense of friendship. They will answer few questions about themselves, try to make themselves as agreeable to you as possible, tell you of str...