I thought it was very timely that shortly after our arrival in Ethiopia, we got to witness the celebration of Timket on the weekend of January 19-21. I was outside with Adeline when I overheard our neighbor boy shouting, “They’re coming! They’re coming! I hear the bugles!,” as he led an entourage of children up the hill. All of them were taking the shortest way possible to the entrance gate of our compound. There, in the distance, we could see a brightly colored tent slowly making its way toward us on the road. This was the procession of Timket, an Orthodox celebration of Jesus’ baptism, sometimes also known as Epiphany.

During Timket, members of the Orthodox Church carry a replica of the Ark of the Covenant to the river. Thousands of onlookers line the streets. All of the streets are closed to traffic. Even our language school was closed on Friday the 19^th in observation of Timket. What I found most interesting, though, was not the singing and dancing or waves of white clothing, but the men running with the red carpet. They run in front of the Ark to unfurl it, so that it never touches the road. Sometimes I feel like we are running, and the race is hard (though it’s barely just begun). But like John the Baptist, I am running to make way for Jesus to come in Ethiopia.

When Jesus spoke about John the Baptist, he said, “What did you go out in the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind?” (Matthew 11: 7 ESV) Jesus follows that up with words of highest praise: “Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he” (Matthew 11: 11 ESV). As our team leader Craig Fowler said at our first field team meeting, John was no weakling. Nothing could stop his efforts to prepare the way for Jesus to come.

 

Not eating locusts or honey, or wearing rough sheepskins, or being an outsider no one really understood. Not even imprisonment. Making the way for Jesus cost him many things, including his own life. But through it all, Jesus coming was the only thing that mattered.

 

When I think about costs of helping His kingdom come, sometimes I wonder if I’m made of the right “stuff.” Will I give up when it gets hard? What will happen when I can’t mix one more cup of Nido powdered milk (though slightly tastier than locusts and honey)? When the power goes out again? When my child is throwing up for the second time in a month? When another truck comes careening towards me, or another person steps out carelessly in front of my car? Will I decide one day that maybe it’s not worth the risk?

 

I can easily fixate on what making the way for Jesus may cost me or my family. And when something costs us, the first question is, “Is it worth it?” And this is where Satan often gets us, by causing us to doubt. As we begin to doubt, we even begin to question our purpose in coming. I came to do “x” and “y” we say, and in “x” amount of time…if only I could accomplish these things, we somehow rationalize that the costs might be worthwhile. We can endure a lot of things if only we feel we have purpose.

 

At our team meeting, we listened to a podcast by Andy Stanley called “The Complexity of Purpose.” In his podcast, he argues that the idea of “purpose” so often gets misconstrued.  To really have purpose, Stanley explains, means that the end goal is not your own fulfillment. Instead, it means making way for something greater than yourself.

 

In keeping with John the Baptist’s outlook, our work in Ethiopia may simply be to make way for others, that they might make way for Jesus. To make their paths smooth, in order that they might say to others, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world!” For example, just yesterday a teammate’s wheel fell off on a bumpy road on their way to a church conference. Craig called Adam right away.  In all of these seemingly mundane tasks, Jesus is the One whom we are making way for.

 

John served his purpose-He was used up for the kingdom. He was most successful the day all of his followers got up and left to follow Jesus. He waited and worked, waited and worked, but all of the lonely waiting was worthwhile when He looked up and said “Behold, the Lamb of God!” We’ve been waiting, too.  We waited another year and a half to raise support, to sell our house, to live here and there, to finally find a home again in Ethiopia. When I think about costs of the kingdom, I think my family felt many of them before we ever came.

 

But waiting for Jesus is always worth it. And just days after we came, God gave us a great mercy—the mercy of seeing that we are walking into work that is already marvelously underway. During our first week here, Adam got to witness 183 baptisms at Yamp. What a good reminder to mark the beginning of our ministry here. When the work ahead seems (and is) daunting, baptisms at Yamp serve as a powerful picture of God’s faithfulness to complete what He has started.

 

Our work, though, has only just begun, and there is so much to do. Language learning is long and challenging (Amharic is considered a category 4 language, and we are a meager 3 weeks in to our 10 months of initial language study). When I think about the costs that await us, I can quickly lose sight of Jesus coming. In contrast, despite John’s many costs, Jesus was the only One he could see.

As a result, he successfully prepared the way for Jesus to come.

Like the men running to make way for the Ark at Timket, I feel like we are running. Running to learn the language. Running to make our home among the people here. Running to see things in an entirely new way, to begin to see their world through their eyes.  But each time I falter, I am reminded of the amazing work God is already doing here–work that’s only just begun.

Come, Lord Jesus.