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For our family, the focus of Christmas was Christmas Eve.  Yes, we shopped for presents, listened to Christmas music, put up a Christmas tree, looked forward to posole and tamales Christmas Eve, spent time with Joan’s family in Albuquerque or mine in Kansas, and opened presents Christmas morning. But, from the time our children were small, we always looked forward to a Christmas Eve church service followed by a family time. 

That time started with reading “Twas the Night Before Christmas” (with each member rubbing the fuzzy surface of Santa’s clothes), then several children’s books built around Jesus’ birth.  Next, I would read about His birth from the Bible and we would have a short time of prayer. The kids would then go off to bed while Joan and I finished wrapping presents. 

As our children became adults and we began adding grandchildren, we continued meeting at our house for Christmas and the Christmas Eve service followed by the family time (without changes – including the mandatory rubbing of Santa’s clothes).

Then the Lord sent Joan and me to Africa and we missed the tradition for 6 years.  In the U.S. the meeting place moved to our daughter’s home since she had children and our son was not yet married.  But, other than that, Christmas Eve was the same.

In Nigeria, things were different. The months leading up to Christmas were marked by an increased rate of armed robberies. And there were no Christmas Eve services because it was too dangerous to be out after dark. So Christian families gathered in their homes early. There was little outward evidence of Christmas and, because of unreliable phone service, the likelihood that we could communicate with our children in the U.S. was slim to none.  But we had God’s Word, knew His abiding presence, and had experienced His utter faithfulness, and they were more than enough.

Now that Joan and I are back in the U.S., we still meet at our daughter’s home as they did when we were gone.  And now that we have grown grandchildren (as well as an infant grandson), the tradition still holds, always ending with Scripture.

The time in Nigeria was a real blessing to us in many ways.  One of them was in moving more of the Point of Christmas more from our heads to our hearts.  No matter the tradition of the culture where one is living, there are things that are firm and unchangeable. 

Particularly that “God so loved the world that He sent His one and only Son..”  By itself, that fact is an absolute wonder!  And He did it for a purpose “that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16). The accounts of His birth carry evidence that Jesus met all the requirements for the long awaited Savior of the world; the only One who could reconcile us to God as we put our faith in Him.

At the end of the day, our confidence and comfort are in Him and Him alone.  What a great privilege we have to be able to celebrate His birth openly and without fear!

May the reality of His presence fill you with His peace and joy this Christmas and always.

The first time I saw him, I was drawn to him.  

Though I had only been in this country for a few hours, and had no experience with its customs, even I could readily see his Spirit-borne purpose.  His demeanor was easy and joyful.  He was earnest and peaceful at worship, and even more so with everyone that he met. 

From the first time that I saw him, I can honestly say that I thanked the Lord for him.

That was two years ago.

Since then, Orano has been in all three of the groups that I have taught.  He has served me as an interpreter in many of those class days. 

And I am grateful, in God’s providence, that a friendship has grown between us.  

I spoke with him for a while before class this morning. Rather casually, I asked him how his evening was, and what he had done last night.  

“Well, I went to teach the Kingdom curriculum with a family here in Awassa last night, and then I went to preach in a church.”

I was stunned.  

You see, we are in class from 9 to 5 each day this week. This is a significant commitment for the students, especially since they had homework Monday night - to create an outline of the entire book of Galatians for Tuesday morning; and then they had a 10-minute presentation of an assigned passage due today (Thursday).

But in addition to these things, Orano is spending each night this week, 6:30 to 8:00 p.m., teaching the curriculum that he helped to write, to a pastor and his family of six.

Then, last night, he also went to a church here in town, from 8:30 to 9:30 p.m., where he had been invited to come and share a message.

Most of us go home at the end of the day pretty tired, having spent the day studying and wrestling together. 

He leaves from our teaching site - where he’s usually also been translating back-and-forth all day - and his ministry day is really just getting going.

The best part of it all?  He was joyful again this morning, and had I not specifically asked, I would not have known anything of these labors.  

In the end, I was humbled to think of the way that many of these students are willingly making sacrifices, just like Orano.  And I’m supremely grateful for the daily and weekly sacrifices that are made by many of you; to tirelessly serve your families, to serve the Lord at work, and to seek the Lord in your daily lives.  

The grace of God does not simply make us driven, bitter-hard workers.  The grace of God changes our soul, so that our work becomes a source and a chance for our joy.

Oh yeah. And did I mention that he did a really nice job on his presentation this morning?

In the comment section tell us which relationships you are grateful for, that the Lord has provided in His providence! 

This church is a field of contrasts.

We drive through the gate, and onto the grounds.  The few cars parked here are squeezed tightly together.  Motorcycles are stacked like sardines in a long column stretching down one side.  As with all of Awassa, it seems, there is no such thing as a parking lot.  Whatever vehicles have served to deliver the worshipers here, must now simply take their place alongside of them.  

The service has already begun, and the courtyard is empty, save for a handful of children who dot the open yard, or cluster in groups to one side.  The few adults who oversee them are friendly to us, but still mindful of their charge.  I wonder whether these have no classroom, or if the teachers have merely come early to the conclusion that theological education would better take place outdoors today.

As we ascend the wide marble steps, the church doors stand flung open.  Light and music spill out.  Immediately my attention is drawn the length of the bright room, down the center aisle and to the royal blue cross at the far end. The service is packed full, but well ordered.  The main sanctuary doesn’t look to have an empty seat, nor the broad foyer that is lined three-deep with rows of chairs.  

As we enter, a toddler darts in front of us.  His little legs cannot keep up with the fury of his pace, though, and he crashes at our feet.  A mortified young mother, beautifully-dressed and deeply earnest, rushes to collect him, and shyly express her condolences.  Meanwhile, the wide-eyed child can only stare at us in wonder.  

This place is both regal, and human.

We are led to the balcony.  Here we take our place near the front railing, in what seems to be “the youth section”.  We are surrounded by teenagers and pre-teens, and it is a wonderful sight.  The row in front of us has several respectable young men, all taller than me, keeping watch over a smaller boy.  For good or bad, there is no frivolity in their demeanor.  The young woman across the aisle also sits attentively.  At several points, though, her eyelids are heavy, and I wonder if we will lose her.  And yet, just when I’ve judged her as disinterested, she will nod her head, and say, “amen”. 

Pastor Tesfaye sits next to me.  I am grateful for this.  At several points during the sermon, he relays to me some of the message while it is happening. 

Many truths are shared.  In fact, the preacher is passionate, refers to Scripture on a few occasions, and is gospel-oriented.  This church is part of the denomination of which Pastor Tesfaye is a part, but this particular preacher is not a part of our training. 

His approach is probably even better than most of the evangelical church here; and therein lies the issue. There is much heat, but little light.

After church, we ask Pastor Tesfaye for his insights.  He was clearly blessed to worship.  He was encouraged to gather among God’s people.  He was even moved by one or two stories during the message.  But in the end, he is also sadly disappointed.  His opinion is that the people were not nourished, and that we never really got to hear God speak.  Instead, even when the preacher did quote Scripture, “he kept using passages to tell us what he wanted to say.” 

This example is a great discouragement to Tesfaye, and he knows that God has so much more for His hungry people.

This is a stark example of why we’ve been asked to come.  

You can see it in the face of our dear brother.  He loves God’s people, but He is grieved for them.

The Word of God is living and active.  It raises the dead, makes the fool wise, and sanctifies God’s people.  The word of man, doesn’t.

My favorite part of teaching with TLI is watching the students interact with the Bible, and wrestle together over what they are seeing.  

After they worked together in groups, one student shared about what he had been learning. 

“I never really saw that salvation is all a work of God’s grace.  I guess I’ve still always thought that we sort of earn it in some way.  But now I know that before God all of us are equal, and it is completely by the work of the gospel that we are His children.  This makes me want to share the gospel even more.”

We have a few less students at this training, than at the last one I attended (probably 50, rather than 60).  That may seem sad, but actually some of that decrease is really a good thing.  

One of our former students, who also served us as a translator, is not here because she is now serving in missions in Jordan.

Another - a young man who was hoping to do ministry in China - is now doing his degree in India and working on language, in preparation to go to China.  

And I should also mention Demeke, who is here this week .. but that’s not because he hasn’t been running ahead in God’s calling.  He’s back for a short stay, but currently serving as a church planter in Zambia.

The Lord is calling leaders from Ethiopia to serve Him around the world.

His gracious work continues here in this land, and extends well beyond. 

He is at work in every nation, among every people, drawing men to Himself and calling out a transformed people for the glory of His great name.

Thank you for praying, and for helping to make this work happen.

Pastor Frank Malizzo is in Awassa, Ethiopia for a 10 day mission trip with Training Leaders International. Keep checking back for updates on his trip and to see how God is using Pastor Malizzo to minister to local pastors in Ethiopia.

There is dust everywhere.

It billows up from the tires and feet and hooves of all that move on the road.  It hangs in clouds after the heavy trucks pass, and falls like fine mist on the bushes that line the way.  I taste it in my mouth.  I feel it in my eyes.  The dust passes freely into our small bus, as it drives along with windows open, and packed with weary travelers that bounce around like rag dolls.

My entrance to Awassa is different this time.  This is my first trip since the new ‘airport’ has been finished.  We de-plane on the open pavement, and find no other aircraft in sight.  A man in a bright vest, waving from the end of the blacktop, beckons to us, and motions for us to make our way up a dirt path, and between the only two squat buildings on site.  We never go inside.  We never see another passenger.  All of the security points and ticket counters and identity checks are but a faint memory at this point. It seems that we make up the entirety of the traffic here this afternoon.

After collecting our bags and boarding the bus, we begin our crawl along the dusty trail that leads around the lake, and back toward the city.  There is a humble beauty in the landscape here, and in the people. 

Thatched, round huts dot the roadside.  Women in full dress seem out of place, against simple block houses with empty doors.  Barefoot or sandal-clad children run nearby.  Surely their lives are not easy, yet they seem always to be playing.

Eventually, the dust begins to mingle with the familiar smells of diesel and ash, and I would know without even looking that we are now nearing the city.  

Tonight we will rest lying down, and that will be a welcome respite. Tomorrow we will worship with our Ethiopian brothers and sisters. The week’s work lies ahead of us, but for now, we must rest, and then sing. I am tired.