The past few days have been a series of long walks. It rained all night on Saturday, so much that the road to Woyiraboya was impassable by car. We reached a point and had to get out and walk.

There’s no rush, in fact it’s an interesting vantage into the three year walk of Jesus and his twelve disciples. They walked, in groups, with humans and animals forming concentric circles of walking around them.

We walked to the church, spent the day with the Carepoint families and when it was done walked the miles back to our van’s resting place.

We formed a procession, an impromptu parade through the village and children joined the crowd as we went onwards. They wanted to see what would happen.

We also took a walk to the spring where families send their kids to collect water for the day. In Ethiopia, water collection is a job reserved for young girls. They walk, plastic jugs in hand, through the hills and bring back what water they’ve fetched.

This winter, a group of friends and I wanted to experience this water walk for ourselves. So we woke up early on Sundays, walked five miles, then another five carrying a jug of water. Exhausting for grown men to do once a week, these girls fetch water multiple times a day some days.

At the spring, the scene spoke for itself. The water is not clean as you can see, but some days it’s all that’s available. To get really clean water is a walk all the way into the nearest town - Durame - many miles away. No wonder many of the kids at the Carepoint have been sick these few years.

On the walk back from the spring, our minds tried to process what we’d just seen. But our Ethiopian comrades would rather continue the lively conversation we’d been having on the way over. It’s a cultural exchange and they want to know, “what’s the biggest problem in America?”

Compared to the people here in Woyiraboya we have nearly everything this world could offer us. We have the ability to shield ourselves for vast amounts of pain. We can go where we please, if it so pleases us. And we can dream really big.

But our biggest problem is something seemingly rare here - isolation.

Ask any pastor, non-profit leader or person in the helping professions. Hell, ask comics who are doing standup full-time as a career. Alot of times you walk alone and the path can feel lonely.

By driving we miss out on walking. By rushing, we miss out on taking it all in. We’re self sufficient but so utterly lonely and afraid. We’ve essentially missed out on the experience of protection and connection that the disciples and all the crowds that went with them had when they walked with their rabbi. But walking is an experience that doesn’t have to be explained to our brothers and sisters here.

Of course these lonely walks still happen in Woriyaboya as well. At certain times of the year, when the water table is low, water can only be collected from the condensation on the surface of the ground. The girls will cross these woods in the middle of the night to collect dawn’s first dew drops of water. It’s a sparse amount to get from this spring, but it’s the best that can be managed. In the pitch blackness of rural midnight the girls must follow the path by memory. There have been instances of rape and even girls getting attacked by hyenas at night.

Though we claim to love our personal space, none of us want to walk alone. We desire to be part of a larger procession, a social space of belonging and protection. We have much to learn from the community in Woriyaboya.

Would you consider making a one-time donation to the clean water project in Woriyaboya? A new well in this community is a great investment and will serve clean water to 8,500 residents in the area. We have a goal to finish fundraising by June 1st, but we need your help!

Click below to donate (select Clean Water Project from the dropdown menu)

https://renvc.churchcenter.com/giving

Procession