BabblingBrooke135 on Xanga

Weblog

Wednesday, 05 November 2008

Accepted, Flaws and All

(I've been primarily posting at my other site. Megan asked me to post this one here too. At her request, . . . .)
Yes, it is Tuesday and that means it's book day at Lelia's. First, though, I must apologize for wigging out on it last week. Honestly, I read it but didn't have time to do much more than come home, feed the cats, go to my second job, sleep, and do it all over again the next day. That's my excuse, but I've got time tonight.

Flaws. I've got them. I'm heavier than I would like to be. I struggle with depression. I can be snappish and mean at times. I get caught up in everything going on with me. You get the picture. There are a few things that might make me seem a bit unloveable and definitely unacceptable.

Lisa writes, "The depth of God's love for us is hard to comprehend. So are the height, the width, and the breadth of His love. our human minds will not allow us to process the greatness of the love of our Father because we are programmed by the world's view of love, which has great limitations." Limitations. Isn't that the truth? The world says, "I'll love you if . . . ." God says, "I'll love you in spite of . . . . I'll love you when you shine and I'll love you when you're down. I'll love you all the way around the world, to the moon and back again. I cannot love you less."

The truly amazing thing about God's love is that He does love in spite of. He knows all of my flaws and failures. J. I. Packer writes in Knowing God:
. . . There is tremendous relief in knowing that His to me is utterly realistic, based at every point on a prior knowledge of the worst about me, so that no discovery now can disillusion him about me, in the way I am so often disillusioned about myself, and quench His determination to bless me.

God's love is utterly realistic. Because of that, I can find great comfort. God loves me in spite of knowing the worst about me.

But He also is always inviting me to grow.

The hard part, I think, is that in knowing this fact, God also expects me to try to love others in the same way. This is a growth point for me. Can I love you if you snub me? Can I love you when you hurt my feelings? Can I love you when you let me down?

Asking those questions are convicting. It makes me think of a couple of people at church I've kind of written off because I felt like the friendship was more important to me than to them. And they let me down one to many times. But maybe God is calling me to go back and love them, accept them, flaws and all.

And it that, I may pass on hope.

Posted by Amy L Brooke at 11/04/2008 05:00:00 AM 4 Your Thoughts

Labels: Behind Those Eyes, God, Hope, Hope Chronicles, Lisa Whittle

Wednesday, 23 July 2008

When You Give Someone A Cookie

The other night I was reading Lisa Whittle's post. She always makes me think. It was about how one of her dear friends didn't like her initially. Ouch. But this woman decided to pray for her. Now, she is one of those friends that Lisa can call any time.

I had taped a show Friday night called Flashpoint. It's a new cop type show. Given that everything else is reruns, I decided to tape it. I finally got around to watching it. Here's the storyline. A man gets the page letting him know that he should rush his daughter to the hospital for a heart transplant. They get there and settled in only to find out that there was a mix up and the heart is going to someone else. The dad has been up for three days straight in a vigil over his dying daughter. The stress breaks him. He grabs a security guy's gun and takes hostages.

Of course, that is when they call in the team. I haven't watched it enough to know the names of everyone yet. But "Head Guy" goes in to negotiate with him. Others are watching him on the monitor. The dad wants the TV turned back on for his daughter. Rule #1, never give a hostage taker anything without getting something in return. So, Head Guy asks dad to ask each person if they are okay. He does this but skips the man on gurney who is slated to get the heart. Head Guy says, "What about him? Is he okay?" He encourages dad to ask him.

The rest of the team who are watching debrief this for us. It turns out that one of the tactics is to make the hostage into a person. By having dad ask the hostage if he is okay, the hostage begins to become a person rather than a means to an end.

Lisa's post fit right in with this. It made me think of work. One woman works in another office. One day when I was still very new, she came in the back door, walked to my desk, and demanded that I look something up for her. I was in the process of leaving and I was use to people going to the counter. I got really flustered and was offended by her tone. I managed to find what she needed but decided that I didn't like her at all. After she left, they explained who she was and all, but it didn't help me liking her.

A couple months ago I made my famous chocolate chip cookies. (I'm probably overly proud of them.) I took some to the office. As I was taking a short break, God prompted me to put three on a little plate and take them down to this woman. From that time forward, every time I walk by she waves. If she comes into the office, she stops to talk to me. When you give someone a cookie or a prayer or a smile, sometimes you forge a connection because you have made them human.

I've probably used this C.S. Lewis quote before, but I think it sums things up so nicely that I'll use it again.

It is a serious thing to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship or else a horror and a corruption such as you meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long, we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of those overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealing with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people.

When we remember another's humanness, we treat them with more humanity. When we remember that they may have things going on in their lives that we know nothing about, we can respond with mercy and kindness. When we treat them with respect even when we might not feel respected, we give them dignity. When we offer kindness, we never know what doors God will open up.

Thursday, 17 July 2008

Regular Programming Interrupted
If I could list the top things people across the board would say about me, they would be reliable, responsible, dependable. A bit of theme, huh? Viewers in the area have recently seen this message flash across the screen of my life: Regular programing interrupted due to major and recurrent power outages. Please check back later.

Sunday I turned my phone off for church. Monday night I realized I hadn't flipped it back on. So, I check my messages. There were three messages from Barnes & Noble. They went like this:
1. Amy, this is Ryan. We had you scheduled for tonight. Just checking to see if you were on your way in.
2. Amy, this is Ryan. We haven't heard from you. You were suppose to work tonight. Wondering if you are okay.
3. Amy, this is Todd. We had you scheduled to work yesterday and it's not like you to miss. Please give us a call to let us know you are okay.
Work. What? Utter panic and shame.
So, yes, I was suppose to work Sunday night. Apparently, I skipped that when I wrote down my schedule. I typically work one evening during the week and Saturday night. That is not an excuse. I messed up.
Unfortunately, my brain seems to be having major and recurrent power outages. I recently had to see my doctor about something. I had seen her a week or so before and this was a follow up. I was convinced that she had given me a prescription. I had jotted myself notes but I couldn't find a prescription where I usually stow those things and it wasn't in the notes I had jotted. But I was embarrassed to think I had lost it, so I didn't call the office. I hunted and waited and hunted and waited.
At my last visit, I had to fess up as I was sure she would ask me about it. I had it wrong. All that hunting was for naught. We had discussed the possibility of a prescription depending on how things had gone. Uggh.
And then there was that time a few weeks ago. My friend Jill's two sons were putting on a concert. I got invited and Jill said, "Why don't you just come for dinner right before too." I should have been there just after 6:00. At 7:15 Jill calls wondering where I'm at. It took a few moments for it all to register and come back. But I made it to the concert and ate S'mores afterwards with them. Chocolate is good for those kinds of things.
Last night, I had to go back into B&N for the first time since missing. I REALLY dreaded it. We are talking major anxiety. So, I had returned Todd's call on Monday night and apologized, but I was still nervous.
When I make a mistake -- and even when I don't make a mistake -- I tend to over apologize. I prayed about it and decided the best thing was to face it head on but determined to not go on and on about it in my usual style. The first person I saw was Ryan. "Ryan, I am so sorry. I totally missed it on the schedule. I had my phone turned off. I'm really sorry. I know there isn't a lot of padding in the scheduling." He was very kind and reiterated that they were concerned because I was so responsible.
The next person I saw was Mary, our general manager. Again, I apologized twice and totally owned it. She said that it happens to everyone once or twice, not to make a habit of it, and that they were concerned.
My brain just seems to be all over the place the last few weeks. Please pray for a return to the normal programming. I much prefer it. In lieu of that, I'm writing everything down and triple checking it.

PS. Taking a break from the blog the last day or so was not part of the power outage. It was more of a conviction of how much time I let blog hopping and blogging consume. I love the relationships, the information, and the encouragement. But it was a reality check of sorts for me. It was good to spend a little extra time with God and a few other things. I think I have a bit more perspective on it. But, I am dying to hop all over and say, "Hi' and see what you are up to. So, hopefully, I will be visiting you soon!

Monday, 14 July 2008

A Child in Rwanda

Heads up. This is not my typical post. It tells about my other Compassion child in Rwanda, but also deals a bit with the Rwandan Genocide in 1994. I hope you'll still read, but it is just very different from my other posts.

As I write, the things I sent for Delia and her family are in Ecuador. My friend left yesterday on her trip. I'm praying that everything went well.

But I wanted to introduce you to the other little girl I sponsor. I recently received an updated photo. I think she looks taller in this picture than the last.

Kayirangwa is 9 and she lives in Rwanda. Rwanda is a small country in Africa. How, you might ask, did I get from sponsoring a child in Ecuador to sponsoring one in Rwanda?

Several years ago, I read a book called The Good News About Injustice: A Witness of Courage in a Hurting World by Gary A. Haugen. Gary is the president of International Justice Mission. It is an organization that works with victims of slavery, exploitation, and violent oppression. No, this is not light reading. But it is important reading!

I think I was gripped with the opening paragraph. He talks about making his typical commute one morning in 1994 and having the thought of saying to his fellow travelers, "Excuse me, friends, but did you know that less than forty-eight hours ago I was standing in the middle of several thousand corpses in a muddy mass grave in a tiny African country called Rwanda?"

What? 1994? I remember thinking that those things just didn't happen any more. I had consigned them to the Holocaust and World War II.

But they do happen, like most things of that nature, for little or no reason (or rather exaggerated reason). The Rwandan genocide was between the Tutsi and Hutu people of Rwanda. The Hutu militia and every day civilians killed their neighbors -- anyone of Tutsi descent or anyone perceived as sympathetic to the Tutsi. Most estimates of the death toll are 800,000 to the 1,000,000 mark. Supposedly, it was fueled by the belief that the Tutsi and Hutu are very different and with one being superior. Sigh. In reality, there is very little genetic difference. All of that death took place in 100 days.

Perhaps one of the saddest aspects is that the world looked on and did very little to stop the escalating violence. President Clinton apologized during his term. But it makes me wonder if it wasn't a bit like World War II. There were rumors of concentration camps but we didn't step in until attacked.

I was surprised by the book and my own ignorance of the situation. I do well to keep up on local news. Global news is hard to grasp. Still, I think I should do better.

Delia caught my heart because of language (I cannot speak it but I took Spanish in high school and college) and the relative closeness of Ecuador. Kayirnagwa caught my heart because of reading that book and that sadness that anything like that could happen so recently. It was only 14 years ago. At 9 she wouldn't have been born yet, but I am sure her parents were. What an awful thing to have lived through. What a difficult thing to heal from -- whatever side you were on.

I came across a 2007 newsletter from Compassion about Rwanda. It shares the story of Emmanuel. His mother had survived the devastation but had hardened her heart. How could God care if all of those things had happened? But Emmanuel was enrolled in Compassion and became a Christian. Each morning he knelt to pray. Still, his mother wasn't interested.

In 2006 there was a drought. His mother wanted to flee the country in search of relief. Emmanuel told her not to, that his Compassion center was providing rations to families affected by the famine. At first she didn't believe him, but he convinced her to go and see. The workers loaded her with rice and water. As a result of Emmanuel's witness and Compassion's practical intervention, his mother became a Christian.

That is how I got from the United States and Ecuador to Rwanda. I know that Kayirangwa likes to jump rope and play games and that she has chores. I do not know how she or her family might have been impacted by what happened. But still, I hope, that in some small way my giving to her gives her hope and healing for her family and the tiniest bit of healing for her country. I am thankful that I know a God who can multiply what I give and what Emmanuel's sponsor gave a million times over.

Now, if any of you know of anyone going to Rwanda, I'd love to be able to send Kayirangwa something like I did for Delia!

Sunday, 13 July 2008

Coming Back Around

My church has just purchased a new facility (new to us that is). Actually, we've purchased more than that. We've purchased a piece of history. Parts of the building are 97 years old. A church has been meeting there all of those years. Those are prayer soaked, worship filled walls.

Today, we had a first/last service with the members of the congregation we are purchasing it from. They called it a "baton" handing service. It was a bit of an emotional service as they said goodbye to a place filled with memories, hopes, and dreams and we said hello to a new area of ministry. They prayed many years ago for the parking lot to overflow. Today it did. We were forewarned that we would be parking on the street and walking. (It was a lovely day for a short walk.) I know that it looked differently than they anticipated, so that makes it bittersweet.

It will be different for us -- going from a mutlipurpose warehouse with 2 bathrooms (yes, lots of standing in line) to a bigger building with 27 bathrooms, a balcony, lots of beautiful old wood, a wing of classrooms for the kids, . . . The biggest change will probably be being in a neighborhood instead of off the highway going out of town. There are lots of ministry opportunities there.

It was a bit of coming around for me. My parents were not overly religious but we belonged to a United Methodist Church. I was baptized as an infant. While I don't know that my parents were faithful to the promises made that day, I do know that God was. We went on Christmas and Easter and a few other times. The Sunday they were giving third graders Bibles, we "happened" to go. I remember it distinctly as it was the first time I had held a Bible. And since I loved reading, it seemed like a challenge -- a book that had to be read.

Several years later, we were told we needed to go to confirmation class. My parents took my twin and I and dropped us off. Over a couple of weeks, we found we enjoyed the nursery and soon we were going to youth group as well. One night after a Sunday school lesson earlier that day had talked about giving your life to Christ, I prayed and did just that.

While I've gong to various denominations since, I guess my roots are United Methodist. While we are not a United Methodist congregation, it is interesting to find myself back in a building with those roots as well.

We officially have the keys, but won't have a grand reopening until September. There is lots of work to be done until then.

I'm thankful for all the faithful people who have been in that building before us. As that old Steve Green song says, "May all who come behind us find us faithful."