Go Back to your country!

Why are you cast down oh my soul? Is it because you know the wearisome journey of immigration, because you understand the loopholes that make it impossible for people of color to gain access to living in America? Are you cast down because the American church is self absorbed with “orthodoxy” that it has neglected to do the very thing Jesus said is the greatest commandments of all, to love thy neighbor as yourself? Is it because that silence of your supposed community impacts you and those who look like you and it is an action that speaks louder than words? And the answer is yes, yes and yes.

It has been heart wrenching to hear the news and see images of brown children in cages, little babies without their mommies to sooth and hold them being treated as animals.  And, it hurts deeply to watch smart, beautiful, strong women who look like me and my daughter being told to go back to their country because they dared to speak up and not be silenced. It hurts because he’s said it to me too, no not the president but a man like him, a man who was an authority figure in my life for a SEASON but who mistakenly thought my existence needed his permission and approval.

He was too busy climbing the leadership ladder, he was the new young CEO of a company I briefly worked for. It was a christian organization and I was the new girl right out of college he didn’t want to bother  with nuances of my immigration status and thought I was simply going to disappear if he just wished it.

I went into his office to tell him the deadline to reapply for my work permit is approaching and I needed his approval to start the process with HR. All he was needed for was to give confirmation that I was doing my job well and that I was a capable employee.  I told him about my visa situation and that I truly believed that God was calling me to stay and that I’d like for the organization to sponsor me to stay for an extended amount of time. He very nonchalantly said, why don’t you go back to your country? I wish instead he had said, tell me more or why do you want to stay. But no, he didn’t care to hear it, I don’t know why he chose careless words but they pierced through my heart.  The weight of this comment had too many memories attached to it, it brought with it shame, guilt and fear all at once and left me feeling worthless it felt fresh just like it did when my community college advisor said it to me for the first time, it was triggering.

So yes, it still hurts to hear it, even if it’s not directed to me personally because it is indirectly about me and my family. It hurts because the church is still silent and outrage is only coming from outside of the body of christ, it hurts because it reminds me that there is an us and a them and I can’t depend on the church of christ to be my family and stand for Justice. I pray that God would heal the divide and that we would truly be united; till then, telling our stories and hearing theirs with compassion is the way forward so, I tell it to those who have ears to listen and I encourage myself in the Lord because he is my hope.

It’s funny to me to hear the assumptions made about immigrants, people glorify immigration as if it’s something we pursued out of luxury. For me, I didn’t want to live so far away from my family and friends. I was too proud of an Ethiopian and African to leave the country I love behind and try to fit into one that obviously didn’t want me nor was built with people like me in mind. The narrative of immigration was not representative of me that I didn’t want to have anything to do with it.  Anything that would paint me as a poor, hungry beggar who was desperate to get to “the promised land”, I worked hard to distance myself from but God kept calling me to serve in places that struggled to understand my reality.

The last thing on my mind was being in full time ministry in America. I knew of NO ONE who served in an American church as an immigrant and has had a significant leadership or influence, so the lack of role models scared me.  I knew I was made to lead, but I was aware of how the obstacles would be many for me as a woman of color in the church. The nuances of my life and journey were too many to be understood let alone accepted in these spaces God was calling me to so I didn’t want any of it, but I loved God and I wanted to follow him and it so happened this was a path he chose for me.

Moments like these where I hear hateful words coming out of places of influence, I encourage myself by reminding my soul that my home is in heaven, that God has made the universe and it fits in the palm of his hands and I get to live where he sends me and makes a place for me. The bible is full of immigrants and refugees including Jesus Christ himself, and this temporary struggle only makes my walk with christ and suffering with him the more meaningful and tasteful so I give thanks to the Lord and pray for my enemies.


Constant Struggle with Loss

The feeling of loss, is one I wrestle with often and one I probably will carry heavy on my heart as long as I live in America, where it’s a constant reminder of being a foreigner, where I constantly find myself longing to grasp on to something familiar that’d bring me comfort and a safe childhood memory and help me be grounded. The truth though is  that nothing around me is familiar, it’s all a new reality, a new home and a new comfort that doesn’t go to the depth of this loss that creeps in me when I miss home, my real earthly home where I grew up, where I took my first steps and learned how to talk, read and write.  The home where everything is familiar, comfortable and known, where it feels like my whole community is my family, where there is no isolation behind closed doors, where people find serenity amongst being in each others presence.

This sense of home is what my mom brings with her when she comes to visit us from Ethiopia, all the familiarities from my childhood, my old way of life and norms come alive again. This time she stayed with us for ten full beautiful months, and she served us with so much humility and grace. My mom is the real deal, her example to me is and has always been “Less of me and more of Christ”. Tt never fails, she exudes total humility and surrender to the Lord, thus she gives just that to those around her.

This morning we said our goodbyes because she had to go back, but as always I found myself struggling with wanting to follow her, and just go to the place where I know I’ll feel grounded, I can’t lose this comfortable place in my heart and I find myself tempted to go back home. To me, if I didn’t know the Lord, if I couldn’t take comfort in knowing that America or Ethiopia is not my real home but heaven is, I don’t know if I could have walked this immigrant walk well. I’m grateful to the Lord who makes my life and journey meaningful by reminding me the richness of this journey he has me on, and it’s service as a constant reminder of the longing for heaven.

This loss is a tough one because of it’s reoccurance, when you go through a break up or lose a friend, you can grieve the loss in one process no matter how long or short it takes but this loss is so constant and so painful. I’ve been dealing with it for over 14 long years but overtime I think I’ve conquired it, it comes back. It’s as deep and fresh as when I first experienced it as a teenager who left home trusting the calling God had placed in her heart to follow him and make disciples. The pain makes me forget why I’m here in the first place and pushes me to question and reprioritize my life. Is it worth it, is the call to ministry, to life as the other, the outsider and all the sense of unfamiliarity worth being here? But then, when all the emotion hanging over me subdues I remember the reason I’m here, it’s not my doing but the Lord’s. Not my calling but His, and not my journey but one he paved for me, so I end up saying, heck yea! It’s all worth it compared to the face of Christ I get to see clearer and closer every time I experience this loss, the realness of his comfort to my soul, the true community I experience only found among believers, It’s worth it because this loss forces me to rely on Jesus and His people.

I love this verse “….. but we rejoice in our sufferingsknowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces characterand character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shamebecause God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been givento us.” Romans 5:3-5 This is the reality of my soul at the moment, the hope found in trusting God’s work of sanctification in my heart.

It’s a tough journey but, if it wasn’t tough, I would have nothing to help me dig deeper in the word, to find my comfort in the presence of the Spirit of God himself and to let myself break down and watch the father restore me back to the way he wants to remake me. I am a vessel in his hands, and this loss of separating from those I love the most breaks me EVERY TIME! BUT, my father restores me making me stronger than before EVERY TIME….and I wouldn’t trade that for anything! To be in his presence is better than life itself and I know that so well.

Friendships That Last A Fiery Furnace

I’m reading the book of Daniel this week and thus far I’ve been so encouraged by the integrity and perseverance Daniel displays as he stands up for what he believes and trusts God to bring the outcome He desires. It’s been such a refreshing couple of days studying Daniel’s life and his impact on his fellow friends who were also in the same boat as him. These men who also went into exile with him were named Shadradch, Meshach and Abednego and later on we see they too display great courage and faith in the Lord.

A couple of days ago, I read the first two chapters before I went to bed, and I was so captivated with his character that I woke up thinking about it.  The purity of Daniel’s faith and his undeniably courageous character is one I long to have. Daniel’s faith & knowledge of God and His boldness didn’t start the moment he was summoned to interpret the king’s dream or when he was thrown into the lion’s den. He has been walking with the Lord way before that, when he was first selected as one of the King’s servants and had 3 years of preparation he chose to eat all vegetables and not defile himself with the royal foods and wine. Daniel’s boldness wasn’t the only one highlighted but of his three friends Shadrach, Mishach and Abednego.  They were able to keep their purity as well and God gave all four of them favor before the King’s men and later on before the king himself.

It’s evident that Daniel’s convictions rubbed off on his friends as well. I started thinking that morning, who do I have in my life that displays such courage, not because of what they have or who they are but WHOSE they are.  Who inspires me to follow after God whole heartedly.  I like asking this question once in a while because I believe in having heroes of faith that I personally know.  Not only people I’ve read about or I follow on social media, but those I dine with, laugh and cry with.  In this season of life the list is sadly very short, this contagious character has only come far in between and those friendships are once that will last a lifetime.

Scripture says that everything Daniel and his friends did God blessed and they did ten times better than anyone else in the kingdom. God’s favor goes before those who choose to set themselves apart for his work, those who are not afraid of the consequences of following Him, those who will blindly follow Him and will put boundary around what is His. I love the picture of unity and collaboration painted in  this passage.

When I think about Daniel and his friends, I think about a group of men who followed after God so faithfully and spurred each other onto good works. I long to be filled with wisdom and tact, like them to be quick to listen and slow to speak. But as I think about that, the reality of this season of life where most of my dearest friends live more than 200miles away strikes me and I wonder if God would AGAIN give me such community I once had.  They are too good to be true, would God STILL have more people like that?

We’ve moved twice in the past 3 years and are just starting to put roots down in Charlotte, NC. Moving isn’t a new thing for me, I’ve moved more times than I can count in the past 15 years, but these past two moves have been the hardest. Maybe because moving as a 3 person family, than one…all by myself fitting into whatever world I was thrown into is a new phenomenon, I don’ know. What I know is, I’m ready for my new normal to begin, to have those comforting talks and hugs.

I’m thankful God is here and he’s given me Himself first and my sweet family second to be my constant, but it’s time for me to find my Shadrach, Mishach and Abednego. As I mourn the loss of proximity to my old but still best friends, God is readying me to make room for new ones. Building community is all about making room for people, in our homes and in our hearts. We can’t receive love from others without giving it, we cannot establish trust without taking a risk. I’ve realized that I don’t want to miss out on the friendships God has for me that can withstand the fiery furnace because I’m still mourning the loss of old friendships.  It is my distrust in God’s unending goodness that keeps me from expecting more meaningful friendships to flourish.  Maybe I feel selfish for having all the wonderful people I know as my friends and I’m afraid to ask for more, I feel stingy but it’s a necessity and God is the giver of all good gifts.

As I look into the future, I am sure there will be many trials and joys awaiting me, thus why I am choosing to take the first step and pray for my new friends of this next season! Those who don’t defile themselves by the temptation of this world, those who have committed to standing for truth no matter how costly it is, those who are eager to pray and pursue christ with me and those that just want to laugh and enjoy a good movie.  Praying for friendships that last a fiery furnace and trusting my heavenly father to be walking in it with us.

_ Inspired by Daniel 1 & 2


He Gives the Courage to Pray

As I sat at the edge of my bed reading the work visa aka H-1B application restrictions and the cost of an immigration lawyer and filing fees, my heart sank. I remember thinking to my 23 year old self, why God? Why do I have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders at such a young age? It’s not fair God, I never asked for this, this wasn’t what I signed up for when you called me out of my comfortable home and loving family to pursue you and the promises you made me if I trusted and obeyed you. This was too hard, too painful, too expensive and too lonely and I don’t think I have the energy to pursue a visa process that I have a very slim chance of getting anyways and everyone around me is discouraging me to do. Everyone as in, my at the time boss who by the way should be the one saying we need you so let’s go for this, I was the one trying to convince him you need me because God said so. I wasn’t even convinced about why I should be there just that God wanted me there and it was an awkward situation for both of us.

H-1B visas are typically given to people with very unique skillsets that the U.S. labor force is in need of. Those that receive it typically hold a master’s degree, make at least $70,000 if not more and mainly are in the field of math and science. I think the salary amount has been increased to $130,000 recently. I on the other hand, was a Christian College graduate with a communications degree working in a non-profit and making almost $35,000, like thousands of Americans. How the heck am I to even consider going through a visa route that I have a really small to no chance of getting? It was more than I could have the courage to pray for, this one was too big and complex for my faith. Plus, I didn’t follow God for a prosperous and glamorous life in the U.S. I hated that mentality, I have a perfectly beautiful and hopeful dream of going back home to Ethiopia and serving God there, and a pride to show them(whoever they are) that I’m no beggar, I’m here because the owner of the universe decided this is where I should be. This whole thing felt like a trap, like God intentionally was making my life miserable, like he didn’t like me let alone love me. Like I was forgotten and no one, not even the one who gave me a mission remembered where I was.

Everything I read in my bible told me that God wanted me to have an abundant life, that he is not only concerned with my eternal salvation but the joy and contentment I find in and through him on earth. So why is it so complicated, unbearable and lonely? Why is it dehumanizing, why do I feel rejected, unwanted and unseen? I don’t want to fight to be seen by someone who refuses to see me, I have my pride too, I want to say “fine, I’ll go back and have a perfectly beautiful life” but I knew that would mean I would have to give up and not give God a chance to show his will through this painful process. In addition to that, there was a lingering doubt and fear in my mind, if he wants to, he could deny me joy on earth, I know I don’t deserve anything but God’s wrath, I know I’m saved by his amazing grace and his beautiful mercy, I know I’m a sinner and the joy that comes from my salvation is enough. So how do I pray, what do I say to the one who holds everything but who is rightfully able to grant or deny my requests? How do I preserve hope in him incase he denies my longings. It was frustrating and felt like my heart was about to burst out of my chest with anguish.

I immediately got up from my bed and just fell on the ground, sobbing, I didn’t have words to pray through this complex pain I didn’t have the vocabulary to articulate it, pain is all that I could feel. But I knew God would understand my groan“for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” Matthews 6:8

Have you ever cry prayed, or yell prayed? Those have been a few but very significant moments in my life. Where I have been so broken by my situation, hurt by people and the big one, disappointed by God that I just cry and yell but it’s directed to God and I’m alone in my room, in the dark. I turned off the lights because it’s too painful to see my surrounding and be reminded of the narrowing walls around me, in almost every aspect of life it seemed I was trapped. After several hours of this wordless but loud yell/cry prayer I remember getting up and wiping off my tears and turning off all my emotions except for one, hope. I’m not going to be angry, disappointed or frustrated with this process. I’m going to do whatever I can and when I reach the end of the rope, I’m going to take that as God’s way of saying to me, this is not where I want you. I’m also not going to pray about this issue anymore, nor discuss it with anyone. I’m just going to do what I can and see what comes out. Suddenly, I was no longer fearful, defeated or angry, it actually felt lighter, as if I’ve tossed all my burdens in an ocean and watch it go away, I didn’t care where as long as I didn’t have to carry it. If God is who he is, and I believe what the bible says about his unfailing love, his truthfulness, his GOODNESS then whatever he lets happen will be for my good and good gets defined by him and I’m ok with that.

I was no longer angry so I started reasoning in my head, if God has given me eternal security, this visa process is like a pile of dust, in his abilities he can blow it away so I’m not going to worry about that! But, there are other real things I wanted to pray for, things I have words to pray for, things that make my heart ache with longing, like seeing my mom first thing in the morning when I wake and enter our living room, on her knees praying, worship music in the background and her bible opened and me knowing that all is well in my world because of this courageous woman’s diligence and thanking God for a daily reminder of what faithfulness looks like. Or going to the library with my dad and picking out books and seeing who finishes it first and can summarize the story without skewing the main theme, how I longed to have those conversations with him, I love the way he reasons, the most brilliant man on earth. Or hanging out with my brothers and watching a movie together because the only thing that’ll keep them around me for longer than a few minutes without me talking their ears off, is a story on display where we watch QUIETLY (they have to remind me though). Or singing from an old hymn book in the rain with my sister, shouting so we can be louder than the sound of the rain hitting the aluminum roof top. All those beautiful and shaping memories circling in my mind I decided why not pray for those days to come back to reality again. My God is big enough and I chose to surrender my biggest questions under his feet. I guess I was thinking, while he’s at it he can answer these few BIG things too, why not, what do I have to lose right?

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” Hebrews 11:1

I don’t think I actually believed any of these things would come true, especially since I’ve been praying for them since day one in America, December 2003. Regardless, I started journaling and making a list; someone had encouraged me to keep a list of my prayer request and writing the answers when God shows up so I did. In all honesty, praying and hoping for a future made my life more meaningful than wallowing in my pain and despair so I chose to be joyful with hope and have faith in God’s goodness. What a turn one-cry/yell prayer can have on my emotions and outlook in life! You should try it sometime 🙂

Fast-forward, almost a decade later, two H-1Bs, marriage, a residency approval and one sweet baby later. I’m sitting in my living room, watching all that I’ve prayed for unfold and taken aback by the gratitude that has overtaken my heart. My God truly is a God that is close to the broken hearted; He truly hears the cries of his people and answers them promptly (well considering that a thousand years is like a day to him). I won’t lie, I had given up hope, I never, ever could have imagined that both my mom & dad, my aunt, hubby and I would sit in one room and talk about silly things like this happens everyday.   Watching them talk, I was thinking to myself, Lord you honored my prayer! It was like I was surprised he remembered, and tears filled my eyes so I decided to walk away as to not distract them from their light hearted chat and take this picture so I can freeze the moment and think of it when I am tempted to forget that my God is not just good but he is merciful and abounding in love.

Words fail me, as emotions take over even as I write this on paper but let me leave you with the prayer of David which is the only thing that about comes close to expressing my gratitude and worship to this king who choses to love me, in ways only he can.  The type of love that heals the deep wounds of this messy fallen world inflicts to the heart and one that restores it to a perfect whole.  Leaving me with a healed heart, that rejoices in truth and giving me the courage to pray more hopeful prayers!

David’s Prayer of Gratitude

 “Who am I, O Lord GOD, and what is my house, that you have brought me thus far? And yet this was a small thing in your eyes, O Lord GOD. You have spoken also of your servant’s house for a great while to come, and this is instruction for mankind, O Lord GOD!  And what more can David say to you? For you know your servant, O Lord GOD! Because of your promise, and according to your own heart, you have brought about all this greatness, to make your servant know it. Therefore you are great, O LORD God. For there is none like you, and there is no God besides you, according to all that we have heard with our ears.


For you, O LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, have made this revelation to your servant, saying, ‘I will build you a house.’ Therefore your servant has found courage to pray this prayer to you. And now, O Lord GOD, you are God, and your words are true, and you have promised this good thing to your servant. Now therefore may it please you to bless the house of your servant, so that it may continue forever before you. For you, O Lord GOD, have spoken, and with your blessing shall the house of your servant be blessed forever.”

2 Samuel 6:18-22, 27-29