Over the last year our local missions efforts have increased, to say the least. People at PC3 seem to really be taking our one word ‘others’ seriously, and taking steps to put that word into action. We’ve beefed up our presence in existing ministries and become involved in new ones, and we’re sure we haven’t heard all the stories from so many of you who serve without us ever knowing about it!
Saturday Meals
Saturday Meals has grown in attendance to well over one hundred each week and typically draws about 20 volunteers. Each time we’ve asked for volunteers, you guys have responded – thank you! The last ‘ask’ was for drivers who would pick up the food from those who’ve prepared it, and carry it to the meal site – within one hour of sending it out in the PC3 Weekly E-news, we had responses from seven people!
Our volunteers have gotten a little anxious at times, especially when they’ve prepared for 100 and then 130 show up…..well, you know the story of loaves and fishes! God seems to always provide. We’ve recently decided on purchasing some peanut butter and jelly for back up – but please don’t take that as a lack of faith. With the changing economy, we expect the expansion of this ministry will continue.
We have some great cooks who volunteer but we are definitely in need of more. We can’t figure out why anyone would be intimidated at having to cook for a hundred people (HA!) It’s a big job – but I’ve done it myself. And if I can do it, anybody can! It may take a little ingenuity….but that’s part of the fun. Believe me, it will give you good stories to tell (‘there were crock pots going in every room’).
Praise God we have some wonderful – and very generous – food vendors. They have come to our rescue on multiple occasions. Dominos and Capt’N Bills Backyard Grill have been there for us many times. Recently when a cook had to cancel, and it seemed as though we had no solid plan – Olive Garden saved the day. The attendees loved it and the volunteers had a hard time handing over the plates!
I wish we could list everyone who has served in this ministry – not only to thank them but also so you would know who they are and be able to ask them about their experiences. If you know anyone who has volunteered at Saturday Meals, ask them to tell you about it. I think you’ll hear some very meaningful and inspiring stories. I do want to specifically thank Randy Harmon and Emerald Stallings for so consistently serving as the point people for the respective weekends. We are praying that others will be led to step up and take on this level of commitment in 2009. And, I want to thank Fran Hoag who has not only been the communicator and the glue that holds everything together, but also for breathing a huge breath of excitement into this ministry. Thank you to every single one of you who are serving at Saturday Meals….may God allow you just a small glimpse of what he is doing through your servant-hood.
Submitted by Christie Coley
When I first heard that PC3 was taking a group to Ethiopia on a short-term mission, I was interested. When I heard it would be a team of all women, I was very interested. When I heard it would be a mission of women serving other women, there was no question. I was going.
Ethiopia has always been a country close to my heart. My dad grew up in Ethiopia, and I always wanted to go and see where he grew up. I wanted to add images to all the stories I had heard. And although I did put images in my head when I was finally there, ones that will be there for a lifetime, that is not what has impacted me the most. The thing that changed me forever was awe! I was not in awe of the stamp in my passport or the new Crocs I bought for the trip. I was not in awe of the 16-hour plane ride or the 45 granola bars I packed in my suitcase (just in case I couldn’t eat the food). And although I experienced heartbreak seeing the children wandering the streets or the mothers begging in traffic, while holding babies on their hips, that was still not what brought me to tears. It was in the provision and sovereignty of our God.
God was pouring into the hearts and lives of the beautiful people of Ethiopia. I was in awe of the believers, Ethiopian and Western alike, that desperately sought after the heart of God and spent their days rescuing prostitutes from the streets, giving street kids the change in their pockets, pouring themselves into the disease-ridden, precious women of the bush. This is where the Lord brought me to my knees. Ethiopia didn’t need me to show them Christ. God was and is moving in the people of Ethiopia. I was in awe of Him, His people, His creation, His church, His world. I was slapped with the realization that God had allowed me to see His work, in a completely different way, to see that He was in control and moving in the lives of so many people. And although He allowed me to participate, what he wanted from me was for me to stop and see and be in awe. And it was, on my knees, in awe of our God—in the middle of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
Our mission began in the States, as our team feverishly rushed to get all of planning and preparing done in time to leave. Going into the trip, we knew we had a very busy schedule with a lot of things to do and a lot of people to see. (Looking back, it is funny the things you go into a mission thinking and the things you come out of thinking.) On the way there, I was bummed that we had a layover in Rome but wouldn’t be able to get off the plane. I mean, how crazy is that. I am in Rome. Rome! And can’t see it, I thought. On the way home, stopping in Rome again, Rome was the last thing on my mind.
Upon touch down in Addis, my thought was, Let the culture shock begin. And it did. Getting through customs in Africa is definitely a spiritual experience. By spiritual I mean you are praying the whole time that they do not stop you and ask you to step aside and open your bags. Driving through Addis Ababa is like New York City but with dirt roads. It is a bustling city. One major difference is that instead of skyscrapers, there were these very crudely constructed huts, called suks, along the side of the roads. This is where the locals sell mostly meat, cheese and fruit. In traffic it is common to see women and children begging in the middle of the road. We were good targets being light-skinned foreigners—FRnj (for-en-gee), as they called us. The city is intoxicating; you fall in love as soon as you experience it. Well, at least I did. I fell in love with the faces and exuberance of the people. This place gets in your soul! We made our way to the compound where we would be sleeping, the very same compound and the very same house my dad lived in when he was growing up. What an amazing coincidence. This was a sign for me that our compound would be a haven for us over the next nine days.
For the next week, we came alongside existing organizations and spent time with Ethiopian girls and women. There was an after-school program for girls called Yetsfa Birhan, where we played with stamps, and made bracelets and purses. It is interesting: You think that when you go to the other side of the world it would be so different that you couldn’t function or cope—but the girls wanted to do the same things that girls anywhere want to do. They wanted to play dress-up and be pushed in a swing and take pictures and laugh. Who needs the same language when you’ve got scarf purses and a Kodak!
We also spent time with the women of Desta Minder, a recovery center for women. This center is so wonderful because of takes women who have been shunned from their villages because of disease, and gives them hope, dignity and love. These tribal women are lovely and bright and deserve so much. Desta Minder is showing them the love of God. What an honor it was to serve with them. Most of these women will never return home. They will never marry. They will never get out of a hospital gown. Desta Minder will be their home and its workers their family.
An organization called Women at Risk, or WAR, was where we spent most of our time. The teachers at the facility rescue prostitutes off the streets. They take them in, teach them about God, and give them food, medical treatment, education and financial support. The hope is that at the end of the year-long program, the women will get jobs and be able to support themselves and their families. We were able to show them things to make and sell in the market, and also teach them basic budgeting skills. Although that was great, my favorite thing about our time at WAR was when the girls would worship. They would all stand in a circle around one girl, the worship leader, who would play a drum. That’s it—one drum and 25 voices. Amazing! We couldn’t understand the words, but it didn’t matter. They were worshiping, we were worshiping, and it was a glimpse … a glimpse at God.
That was it. A glimpse, and a moment of awe, of our Creator, our God. My whole trip can be summed up in that word: awe. It was not about me or what I came to do—it was about God and what He was already doing.
—Submitted by Olivia Prevatt
