Reconnecting with my gift in Ethiopia

A couple of years ago, I participated in a women’s Bible study. We read Jennie Allen’s book, “Restless: You Were Made for More.” Her book helps identify a person’s gifts and experiences so they can pursue God’s greater purpose for their life.  

I remember sitting in a circle as we went around the room, sharing that special thing God has uniquely wired us for. You know the one, the thing that gives you life, makes your soul come alive, and you find this spiritual connection in your work.  

Women began to share about becoming a mom, working as a teacher, volunteering at church, or running their own business. Some were still trying to find the common threads that pointed to their God-given gifts. I knew my gift. I had known it for a long time, but I wasn’t currently fulfilling it. I wasn’t even sure I still wanted to.  

Over the past 20 years, I’ve traveled the world with my camera and lived in Africa, Latin America, and Europe, working as a photojournalist. Yet, in the past five years, my camera has been quietly tucked away in the back of my office closet. It would come out for the occasional family photo, but it mostly just sat there covered in dust.  

That day, in a room full of women, I shared my story and how I used to light up whenever I traveled or took photographs. However, in the past couple of years, things changed. Partly because I was focused on raising kids and partly because I didn’t have the opportunities, but mostly because I wasn’t sure I wanted to.  

The past few years had been hard and I was tired. Yet the feeling of restlessness that Allen talks about in her book, that feeling still lingered deep down in my soul, that is, until the second day of my trip to Ethiopia.  

Off to Africa 

I traveled to Ethiopia as part of Buckner’s communications team to capture photos, videos, and stories of the work Buckner Ethiopia is doing. Recognized as an NGO (non-governmental organization) in 2025, Buckner Ethiopia is establishing its programs for children and families and connecting with people in the community.  

I had not traveled away from my husband and three kids for this long before, so needless to say, I was nervous. But as we stepped off the plane and made our way to the bus that would shuttle us to the terminal, I was struck by the cool, early morning breeze. My fears began to lessen.  

It was February, but when we left Dallas, it might as well have been early summer. Though, in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, it was a perfect 70 degrees. The sun was still asleep at 5:20 a.m.and the fresh breeze seemed to welcome us with the same hospitality as her people.  

Within the hour, the mountains peeked their heads above the city skyline, and we made our way to the hotel. We passed clean streets, numerous flags and tall buildings. I was struck by the way the city seemed to bustle. I had been to Ethiopia before, but 15 years later, a lot had changed. Two things hadn’t changed though – the friendliness of the people and the abundance of coffee.  

Visitors are offered coffee nonstop. It is smooth, rich, and unlike anything served at most American coffee shops. Coffee is often served as part of a traditional coffee ceremony brewed in clay pots. It’s served with sweet and salty popcorn or Difo Dabo, a traditional, large, round bread served at celebrations and holidays.  

We were lucky enough to enjoy Difo Dabo at a celebration on our second day in Ethiopia. With backpacks full of gear and more water bottles than we could count, we watched as mothers from the surrounding community, many with young babies secured on their backs, partook of the bread, coffee, and tea as they celebrated the inaugural Nurturing Parenting class at the Buckner Family Hope Center^® in Addis Ababa. 

Warming up to it 

I pulled my dusty camera from my backpack, and as I began snapping photos, hoping to capture something worth using, it happened. As I started to click, I began to interact.  

First off, I’m not a typical photojournalist. I don’t believe in ignoring your subjects. In fact, I believe the best way to get a photo is to talk to them, ask their name, laugh, smile and find a common thread. For example, with mothers, I love showing photos of my kids or trying to speak a few words in their language so they can laugh at my poor pronunciation.  

So, as I began to interact with the women, something that had been buried deep inside me for the past few years began to slowly make its way out. I connected with one young woman, Meseret. She graciously let me take photos of her holding her tea. We exchanged smiles and then she offered to tell her story.  

Meseret spent a few years working in another country to provide for her family. She returned to Ethiopia and is continuing to find ways to care for her kids, one of whom has special needs. As she told her story, I saw her body language shift. I’ve seen this many times in my line of work. It’s a good shift. It’s the kind that happens when someone listens to you, lets you tell your story, and gives you a safe space to open up.  

Finding joy 

Then it happened. That restlessness flew away as I began to take Meseret’s portrait. My body felt lighter, and my joy reappeared. I remembered how much I loved taking photos of others, using the natural light to showcase their beauty, and allowing my role as a photographer and reporter to provide women a safe space for sharing their stories. I believed that joy I felt when fulfilling God’s call on my life disappeared along with my 20s and 30s, but it turned out God wasn’t done with me, and he’s not done in Ethiopia either. 

Over the next few days, I met more amazing mothers who took part in Family Hope Center classes. Like Senia, a single mom without a steady paycheck, living as a family of five in a small room. Then there was Esther, a mom who sells vegetables at the local market in hopes of providing for her two boys.  

I heard from moms who spend their nights worrying about what they are going to feed their children the next day, how they would pay rent that month, and if they were doing enough to help give their children a better life. Each one full of hope as they began work with the Buckner team to discover their own personal calling to serve God.  

I watched their faces light up as we asked them to describe their dreams for their children. In just a short time, I could see how the Buckner team was helping families find hope again. 

From social workers to family coaches to administrators, the Buckner Ethiopia team shared a desire to serve families and children as Jesus did. They have found their calling. Their eyes brightened as they talked about their passion for walking alongside families, mothers, and children within the communities they serve.  

With a sense of privilege, I watched them assist an adoptive family, offering care and services as they navigated a child’s medical needs. I saw the joy on the faces of the family coaches as they talked about the moms in their classes. Their hope was evident as they formed relationships within the community. Their passion was sincere as they prayed for God to move among the families and offer hope and healing to those broken and burdened. They expressed joy as they interacted with each other after a long day’s work.  

I could tell that God had called each of them to their unique place. If they were restless, it was because they knew there was more to do, more families to serve, and more children to bless.  

Ethiopia is a beautiful country with a rich history. It’s a place where God is moving, and it’s a place where people are living out their calling to serve God. I know they served me exceedingly beyond my expectations.