My friend Getachew Dembi fled the brutal regime of the Marxist dictator Mengistu Haile Mariam in Ethiopia in the 1980s. Getachew forever left behind his life as an international coffee executive. He would never return to Ethiopia. After living as a refugee in neighboring Kenya for two years, Getachew was granted asylum in the United States and eventually ended up in Lynchburg.
Getachew found a job at Walmart and attended Liberty Bible Institute in the evening. About 15 years ago, his coworkers were concerned when Getachew didn’t show up for work for two days in a row. He was found on the floor of his mobile home, paralyzed on his right side from a stroke. Since that time, the Guggenheimer Rehabilitation Center has been his home — one small room with all his worldly possessions.
About seven years ago, a Blue Ridge worship team shared Christmas music with the Guggenheimer residents. From that outreach, I was made aware of a godly man who was in need of a visitor-friend. Since that time Getachew and I have enjoyed many visits together.
Over the years, our visits at the rehab center have taken many forms. Sometimes we attend church, enjoy coffee or just sit in the garden with few words between us. Many times we have watched YouTube-downloaded videos that I’ve brought Getachew of Ethiopian worship services in Amharic.
Once I brought my laptop and via Google Earth we were able to see familiar places in Addis Ababa, his hometown. The greatest thrill was in contacting and exchanging photos with Getachew’s son, who was a palace chef in Saudi Arabia. They had not seen photos of each other for more than 30 years.
I often think about two things when making a visit — be it in a hospital, an extended care facility or someone’s home:
The first echoes the thoughts of an evangelical statesman who said that there are no perfect people physically or psychologically. No one is completely well since man revolted against God. There are just differences of degree and kinds of problems. So, it is not that they are sick and I am well, but that together we stand as needy people before a God of mercy and unfailing love.
The second thought is related to the first. Whenever I walk away from making a visit I know that God has done something in me. Isaiah said that true faith is demonstrated in helping those in great physical and material need: Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear.
In some way, God touches my heart and I’m often left wondering if the visit meant more to me than to the one I visited.
Learn more about the Visitation Ministry here.