KathyAddis

As I sit here in the airplane making the first leg of the trip home from Athens, I am contemplating how to answer the question: how was your trip?

Overall, and the very short answer is, good. It has been a “good” trip. That of course means nothing except that nothing tragic or devastating happened in the last eight days. 

Or has it? The truth is, there is a part of me that has been forever wrecked. 

I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I immediately agreed to come on this trip because I have an insatiable wanderlust and the idea of spending a week in Greece seemed impossible to pass up. It was shortly after saying I would go that I had a rather harsh reality check thinking about the fact that I would be working directly with refugees from all over the Middle East, a people group I knew nothing about. I am typically not one to get or be intimidated, the simple yet wise words of my father are ringing in my head, “well, they can’t eat ya” so the fact that I found myself overwhelmingly intimidated by the prospect of working with these people left me well, scared. 

After choking down the enormous lump in my throat, I sat down and began to have an honest heart to heart with my Heavenly Father. I very clearly laid out my case as to why I should retract my agreement and pull out of the trip. “Lord, I know nothing about refugees except what I see and hear on tv and they are scary! I have no money to go especially three weeks before Christmas. You and I both know there is no way my husband will agree to let me go across the ocean with six other women! And finally God, I have nothing to offer them…” My argument stopped there as He very abruptly interrupted me saying, “You have me. Baby girl, this is not about you, this is about me and what I want to do through you. You have put your yes on the table and I’m taking it. I know you’re scared and that’s ok. Trust me.” To that, I quietly bowed my head, took a deep breath and said, “I’m going to Greece”. 

Once I quit whining and let Him do what He does, the miracles started. First, Andy and I had an honest but straight forward discussion about the logistics of this trip. He told me he was not excited about me going but he would never tell me not to go if this is what God had asked me to do. As the time drew closer for me to leave resignation to the reality set in and he has been my strongest prayer support and encourager. 

Second miracle, I received a magazine of sorts in the mail entirely about working specifically with refugees. I later learned it was from the woman who was heading up the trip. It was timely and perfect. As I read two articles a night in preparation, I began to feel my heart softening and the fear dissipating. 

Third miracle, the money. Due to not knowing exactly how many would be going which is what decided how the already donated money would be divided, we were not given a total that we were to come up with for the trip until about two weeks prior. When I prayed about how to raise support I really felt like God was telling me to work for it, not just putting a Go Fund Me account on Facebook and seeing what happened. I don’t think there is anything wrong with a Go Fund Me, I just really felt like He was telling me I needed to put my hands to use for this. Here is where this miracle begins. The gist of it is that I was able to start and finish five pieces of furniture in 48 hours, I then turned around and sold all but one of those pieces, other people helped by making and selling items for me, and random donations just started flowing in. Because I didn’t know how much I would need I decided to put all the money as it came in in an envelope and I would count it as soon as I got a final amount needed. When the email came with the total and I counted the money in my envelope, I was blown away. I had just shy of DOUBLE what I needed! I was so shocked. 

There was no question I had made the right decision to go. 

One big difference between this and other mission trips I have been on is that we had precious little time to prepare. 

Prepare, fret, whatever. 

Anyway, it seemed like I blinked and Thanksgiving was over, Black Friday shopping was finished and I found me and my now five closest friends sitting for what seemed like forever in the Kansas City airport waiting to board our first flight. One team member was flying out of Omaha so we were a bit disjointed in the beginning. 

Aside from a ridiculously quick sprint through the Philadelphia airport to catch our connection to London then on to Athens, the journey from Kansas to Greece was pretty uneventful. 

Our first night was as relaxing as it could be when your internal clock is on the fritz. Hotel Titania, where we stayed was amazing with a breathtaking view of the Parthenon from where we ate every morning and that first evening. 

Sleep reluctantly came in anticipation of what day two may hold. Monday was over. 

Tuesday brought some fresh-ish eyes and eager hearts. Actually, we were all so confused on what day it was and if we were really supposed to be awake or not, we just decided to go with the flow and we would figure it out as we went. We made our way, with the help of Google maps on two different phones telling us to go two different ways, to “The Place”. I’m not sure what I was expecting but it was clean and with what I very naively thought was plenty of room. We met D as we came in along with N, R, C, S, B with her two littles S and O. S, D, S and I joined us later. 

I feel like I need to describe Greek time. Greek time means if an event starts at 10:00, you can count on it actually starting sometime after 10:15 or so. Personally, I find this rather endearing. 

Maybe I have some Greek in my DNA somewhere….

Once everyone was present we started bible study and prayer time. This was their daily practice and they were gracious enough to include us in it every day we were there. They start with prayer including requests from those present. I have to admit I struggled that first morning for a few reasons. First, the intimidation factor was at a peak. I couldn’t understand so much of what was being said partly because it was in a different language but even when they spoke broken English they spoke quite softly. It made me realize just how loud we are in America, generally speaking. And then I found myself so worried I would do something wrong or offensive; speak out of turn, say something stupid out of ignorance, overstep my bounds, etc. So, I sat quietly that first morning letting anyone else from our team do the talking and praying out loud. I may not have prayed out loud but you can bet I was praying! 

Once requests were given they began to pray. I had no idea what languages were being spoken or interpreted into but I very faintly heard English in there somewhere. Thank You Lord for that little gift of familiarity. 

N, a Greek who works at The Place, lead the study in 1 Peter that morning. He spoke with such a bold confidence it came as no surprise he was an university and seminary trained pastor before he accepted the call to work at The Place. 

Once prayer was over the work day began. Mari and I were chosen/asked/volunteered to help with the drinks. I had no idea what we were getting into! R is in charge of the drinks at The Place. This very soft spoken Iranian man greeted and instructed with understandable English and was kind enough to explain the process step by step for us. What he failed to mention was just how many drinks we would be serving and that most of the men would not speak English. “Good luck”, he said with an ornery grin as people began to show up. We served just four items: chai, sheil chai, sheil chai sheling, and sheil cocoa – tea, sweet tea, sweet tea with milk and hot chocolate. I am probably butchering the spelling of the very few Farsi words I know, forgive me we were only there four days. 

This is where God began to wreck me. 

Completely intimidated but determined to show Jesus, I found myself serving, literally serving, the very men I had come to fear and sadly have a prejudge toward. That wasn’t what got me. Where God broke me was in how very gracious these men were toward me. They were polite and kind allowing for my language and waitressing blunders. These men who have so very little gave me so much. 

God used them to free me. 

I did not realize how my ignorance and unwillingness to see past what was being fed to me, not by the Holy Spirit but by the world, had me in chains. Chains of hatred and distrust toward an entire people group based on the actions of a few. I am not naive enough to believe that every man that I served that or the following day were Believers or even had good intentions but despite their upbringing and their own prejudices, they showed this Westerner kindness. 

I don’t really know what happened with the rest of my team that morning as we were super busy serving more than 300 drinks and helping with all of the clean up afterwards. 

We were taken to lunch that day by B and O, S, and D. We walked to a Syrian restaurant that D and S highly recommended. 

We began to get a better understanding of how traffic in Greece works – cars go, motorcycles go faster, people wait. Period. 

Lunch was Souvlaki chicken sandwiches served with pickles, mayo (kind of) and an interesting version of ketchup. I had no idea what I was getting except that it had chicken but I left a big fan of it!

Back to The Place for the afternoon session. 

Laura led a seminar which we thought we were all going to be able to see since some of us missed Sherry’s seminar that morning. However, Sarah and Haley got kiddo duty while Cynthia and I helped with milk and diaper distribution. 

This exhausting day ended with us taking a creative way home to have dinner at an amazing pastry shop. 

How people in Greece don’t weigh a thousand pounds is beyond me!

The next day, Wednesday was as busy as to be expected. Our team started this morning as we did every morning, breakfast at 8:00 in the hotel restaurant with an amazing buffet. Just as I had led our devotional the day before over Psalm 23, this day Sherry led us in a quick study out of Hebrews 2. After breakfast we had yet another creative trek to The Place. I am very grateful that Cynthia and Sarah are good navigators with a keen sense of direction! At The Place we again started our day with prayer and bible study. Again, prayer time was in translation but we were asked if one of us would like to lead the Bible study. Mari, whom we now lovingly refer to as Mama Mari, quickly voluntold Sherry that she would be leading bible study. Sherry graciously shared with this group the same lesson she had shared with us about an hour earlier. 

While I was intimidated and apprehensive about serving drinks the first day, I was more prepared and excited by Wednesday. Amped up and ready for the swarm of men and boys who would come to The Place to warm up on this cold and rainy day in Athens, I was admittedly a little disappointed when the numbers were down, way down. R didn’t know why attendance was so low but he took it all in stride and was willing to share what was left with those in need or want. 

I don’t know this man at all but I began to see something in his character that was unexpected. He has a gentleness about him that I was surprised by. The way he spoke to the other men was respectful and calm. As I watched the interactions between all of these men from all of these different cultures and countries, many of which ‘back home’ are warring with each other, I noticed that this quiet, gentle nature exuding from an Iranian believer that always wears a smile caused a ripple effect. Some of the men would come in and appear to be stressed out, anxious or maybe just mad about it. It was those men that R would seek out, put a hand on their shoulder and quietly speak to. Very often the quick conversation would end up in both men smiling as they waited for this confused American to figure out the drink order. 

What God showed me in this is that this really had very little to do with R, his rejection of his past, or his willingness to serve but it has everything to do with the Holy Spirit at work in him. R has fallen desperately in love with Jesus and found a love and acceptance in his new family of which we all share the same Father, that flow from him to others wether they have accepted Christ or not. I’m sad that I found this surprising but so grateful God has opened my eyes to my bigger family in Him. 

I know there was supposed to be a sewing class upstairs with the ladies but from what I understand no learning was needed as the ladies knew what they were doing as they altered each other’s clothing. 

Lunch found us eating Syrian food again but this time with S and A. These girls are truly adorable. Laura refers to S as “fun size” because she is just a little bitty thing. S loves this title and certainly played up their size difference. A is much more reserved in her interactions but still loving. I believe this has more to do with the fact she spoke very little English and only knowing four Farsi words, I was very little help. Especially since she and S spoke Kurdish. It’s my understanding these languages are similar but not the same. What struck me about S and A is just how much alike we really are. These ladies love to laugh and be silly, just like we do. They love fashion and feeling lovely, just like we do. And they love, love, love to take selfies, just like we do. I find it both embarrassing and funny just how many selfies with these and the other ladies I have on my phone! This showed me that girls don’t have to speak the same language to just be girls. Lunch was incredible. We had the privilege of meeting the owner and of course, took a selfie with him.

Coming back from lunch we were told there was going to be a meeting with others in the Greek church. To be completely honest, I really have no idea what this was about. It seemed nothing was really happening except little pockets of people chatting about things I didn’t know in languages I couldn’t understand. I took the opportunity to meet a woman who seemed to be just sitting looking around. To my surprise she spoke perfect English. Her name was Magda, “like Mary Magdalene in the Bible” she explained. She was born and raised in Athens, educated and met her fiancé in London but had felt God calling her back to Athens to work with the church there. Such a sweet young lady with a sparkling sense of humor. She is the one who helped me understand Greek time when the meeting hadn’t started an hour after it was supposed to. Apparently there had been some miscommunication with those who were attending the meeting and it ended in the whole group doing a bible study. This is where the translating everything into English every meeting began to wain. 

Once the meeting/study concluded we as a team along with D set out to shop for Christmas presents for the children. While I never understood what the meaning of the meeting was, it made me grateful to know that all ministries are imperfect. We all have moments of miscommunication and disorganization and that it’s okay to give myself and my team back home a break when things don’t go ‘just right’. God doesn’t freak out, neither should I. 

Leaving The Place we headed to an amazingly, fabulous yet crazy overcrowded with people and stuff store called Jumbo. I should mention that taking the metro (bus) was quite an experience and should only be done with someone who reads Greek and understands the people! 

There are few things more fun than spending money you did not earn on a slew of children you do not know. That was our evening. I can’t remember the exact number of gifts we bought but it was so exciting to be a part of God providing for these families like only He can! 

Speaking of children, this was a huge lesson. More of a reality check maybe. I believe strongly in discipline, especially when your children are young. It would seems this is not the case for these ladies because when they showed up at The Place it was almost like they forgot they even had kiddos. However, after a group discussion with our team, I don’t necessarily believe this. Mari reminded us that these women and children have most assuredly been through more trauma than we could ever possibly understand and for many of them it hadn’t been that long ago. Because this was a fact in their lives the least we could do is show grace as they are acclimating to a new country in a culture with languages they may or may not understand, many of them may be homeless or at least be concerned from where they will get their next meal. These women may appear to be “carefree” but many carry a burden we pray we will never fully understand. Maybe discipline and demanding their children always behave as we would expect them to or as we would allow our children to is simply not the priority at this point in their lives. Sherry contended that discipline can happen regardless of your living situation. I believe both are true. I walk away being thankful that these ladies and their children have a safe and loving place to come, no matter how crazy their kids can act. 

Ending this day with eating dinner at an outside pizzeria seemed very Greek-like and we informally adopted this little corner as “ours”.

Thursday morning breakfast devotional was lead by Laura out of Hebrews 1. She was also asked to lead bible study at The Place after prayer. Prayer was different this morning as everyone prayed in their own language. I found myself listening more than praying and praising our Heavenly Father for how completely beautiful this moment was. How this must make His heart happy to hear His children talking to Him together in the tongue He gave them. Breathtaking. 

That quiet, peaceful moment was the last one we had at The Place that day because once the ladies began showing up the Day of Beauty began. These already beautiful women were given the opportunity to participate in any or every service being offered, or none of them. There was threading, fingernail painting, facials, henna and dancing. 

Oh the dancing. 

I had asked God to give me a carefree spirit and the ability to just be myself and have a great time not being intimidated as this was really the first time I had one on one interaction with them. He heard and answered that prayer. Apparently D really, really likes dancing and has an incredible way of encouraging women who would otherwise maybe just sit and do nothing or stay very much to themselves, breakout of their shells and bust out the moves! I loved this! I was and am so humbled that these ladies not only let me watch but invited me in to be a part of something that is obviously so important to them and their culture. I laughed until my sides hurt, or maybe that was from all the hip action happening, but I ended the morning a hot, sweaty mess so full of joy. I attribute my high energy to the coffee D had made me and Laura before everyone showed up. This drink we now refer to as “the sludge” was Arabic coffee with cardamom as D explained it. All I know is that it was absolutely the strongest coffee I have ever had and I most certainly chewed the last drink! It tasted horrific but it certainly gave me energy. I think I’ll stick to my weak double espresso, thank you. 

That was our first day of real shopping in Greece. I think we I logged more than 20,000 steps that night and we saw what felt like a large part of the city. We walked to a restaurant D recommended called Saavas. The food was so flavorful and delicious. We ate until stuffed then shopped until we were about to drop. We hit the tired point so we headed back to the hotel only to be stopped by a demonstration that went down the street we were trying to go as that was where our hotel was. It was startling how many people participated in the march. They held signs we could not read and shouted chants we could not understand. It was frighteningly loud but yet peaceful. We learned later it was a yearly event held as a reminder of an incident that happened 11 years ago where a policeman shot and killed a 14 year old boy. The only thing we could really understand were the signs for anarchy that had been thrown all over the ground. I was shocked and impressed with just how peaceful it was considering it was massive. 

Sleep came easy that night even if it didn’t last long. 

Four o’clock the next morning my day started wether I wanted it to or not. I spent much of the next two hours praying, scrolling through my phone and trying to wrap my head around the fact that this would be our last day at The Place. At this point I began to take stock of this mission trip and try to figure out why it has been so radically different from any other I have been a part of. Normally I am an emotional wreck when the final day approaches. I tend to dive in head and heart first allowing my emotions and thoughts drive the work. This week has been different only in that going in to it I knew I had real boundaries and I prayed specifically that God would guide my interactions with a people and a culture I knew so very little about. After a discussion with my roommate Laura that morning, it began to become clear that while we have been here to love on and literally show love to these ladies, much of what I know God was also asking us specifically to do was encourage and build up those who do that every single day. D, Z, N, C, S, S, D, S, B and eventually A, these are the ones my heart aches for and goes out to. The job they are doing is so big and so viably important. They need the hands and feet of the living God to come and walk with them in very practical and generous ways. I am thankful to not be an emotional mess as I leave but confident that He who has began a good work will carry it through to completion. I just got to be a tiny little part of that. Thank You Lord. 

As the rest of the team greeted Friday, Sarah lead us in bible study that lead us each to explain why we were there, what brought us to Greece. It was so encouraging and interesting to see how God nudged and we moved, each for different reasons but all with the same result. 

I lead the same bible study out of Psalm 23 that I had done with our group earlier in the week. It was interesting to hear the different interpretations of ‘rest’ that were discussed. Work is work for every culture but rest can look very different. I appreciated Z’s take on rest for a people who at the moment at least or maybe ever, don’t have the opportunity to go on a cruise or a vacation get away, rest comes in the Lord. And that is available to all the world, all the time. I love that. 

We received our marching orders for the day and I found myself downstairs getting the gifts together with Mari, Sarah and C. This was so fun. Anticipating the joy and fun the kids would have at the Christmas party later that day made my heart sing, and my mouth as it turned out. Mari started singing Jingle Bells and before long we were all singing along, including C. In fact, I think he enjoyed it most. 

Not too long into it R came down asking if someone could help Sherry with drinks as all the ones who had missed the day before were certainly there that morning. Again I found myself in service to these men who now seemed a little more comfortable with us and joked with us, at least I think they were. At any rate they were polite and there was a sense of levity in The Place. 

Once everyone was gone decorating began. We were all busy little bees transforming The Place from a spotless somewhat sterile environment to a Christmas wonderland. Well, that may be a stretch but it looked so festive and all the volunteers came wearing red because we had told them we as a team were all wearing matching red shirts, which we left with them afterwards. What a fun a joyous time. As the ladies began to slowly show up it became apparent that many would not make it because of another day of demonstrations. So we did what all good Middle Eastern parties should, we danced as we waited. Again my heart almost burst watching them literally shake off their cares if only for a moment. This is where I met S and her beautiful daughter J. She let me hold J. J was clearly not impressed but was content to let me hold her. This gave me an opportunity to chit chat with S as much as broken English and precious little Arabic can chit or chat. Both Haley and I were given the opportunity to share our favorite Christmas memory or story. I was so proud of her. She was nervous but spoke respectfully  and lovingly to this group of women all of whom were her senior. 

The ladies were given wire and beads to make their own Christmas ornament. It was so sweet to see these full grown women revert back to little girls doing crafts and finding such joy when their projects were applauded regardless of how they looked. So beautiful. So very many selfies. It was humbling to be a part of something so much bigger than just a Christmas party. This was a reprieve, a break, a chance to symbolically let their hair down and relax. Then the children joined us with their gifts in hand. You don’t have to know the words they were saying to know they were excited! Another ministry brought food and drinks that disappeared rather quickly. Once the food was gone the party pretty much ended. Hugs were given and more selfies were taken with our new friends. Then came clean up. It went pretty fast since the volunteers have grown accustom to everyone helping and working efficiently. 

What did not go quickly was saying good bye to the ones we had bonded with over the week. Hug after hug, picture after picture and eventually everyone walked their separate ways. One particular heart that I won’t soon forget is B. She is a tireless mom who has a zeal and love for the Lord that just radiates from her. She jumps in and helps or takes over when and wherever needed. My prayer partner Bev had asked me to look for someone that she could connect with through prayer. Even if they never meet this side of heaven she would like to pray specifically for a sister in Christ and for me to let this woman know Bev finds it a privilege to pray for her. The woman I chose was B.  Because God is super sweet and sees so much more than we do, I will be able to give Bev the matching bracelet to the one I gave B as a reminder of this connection they will have through prayer. This makes my heart happy. B cannot accept a gift without giving a gift so she made Bev a pair of earrings the next morning when the ladies made friendship bracelets and earrings. 

So as we solemnly walked directly back to our hotel, we finally became non-GPS dependent and confidently found our way home, we all spoke very little as the realization that our formal “work” in Greece was finished. We had to eat at the hotel due to more demonstrations. I finished Friday…humbled. 

Saturday was the day I was most excited about prior to coming. This is the day we were supposed to tour ancient Corinth and the Parthenon. In true missionary fashion, things didn’t work out quite as planned as our biblical tour guide finished walking us through the ruins and remains of Corinth and dropped us off at the hotel. Frankly, I was ok with that as my brain was on full tilt after all the information she, Vulla and her husband Socrates (pronounced So•crat•eez) poured out on us. I was kind of reeling from the realization of where we had been and the practical application these very important places had in scripture. Amazing. 

We still had time to shop some but kept it pretty short as some of us may have run out of room in our bags going home. This allowed us to walk our way to the Acropolis once again depending on Sarah and Cynthia’s innate sense of direction and our schizophrenic GPS. 

This may have been my favorite part as we were able to not just see but stand on Mars Hill where I read Paul’s message from Acts 17. Humbled, broken and thankful are the only words I can think of when I think about standing there and the impact that message, God’s message through the Apostle Paul has had on eternity. 

God also began to shine a light on me and my past. As a fine arts major I had learned and studied so much about this specific part of the world with such passion. I wanted nothing more as a teenager and young adult than to come and see these amazing ruins for myself, place my hands on the rocks that were hewn and stacked so long ago to make a temple worthy of an earthly god. But now I find so little importance in these mere shrines. No, now standing on Mars Hill, walking where Paul walked, remembering his strength, humility and love, recounting his unquenchable passion for his Savior and the powerful love He had given him for the lost, that is what stops me in my tracks now. That is what brings me to my knees in worship of a God that would allow me to be a part of the same heritage. The world can have these majestic ruins, I’ll take the humble cobble stone roads where the greatest message about the greatest Gift ever given was spread. 

There is so, so much more to this day but I could never have enough words or space or time to write them. I only pray I never forget the lessons He taught me and the historical importance of all we saw. 

And that brings us back to this plane. Well, actually it’s now a different plane, a different time zone and now a different country. We are almost to Chicago where if the Lord wills it we will be able to catch our connecting flight to Kansas City and go our separate ways to our final destination, home. 

Looking back, I guess my trip really was, “good”. 

*some names have been shortened and locations changed for protection of those involved