He is doing great things

Dear Friends,

HE has been doing great things. Though I haven’t been blogging, I have been writing. In fact, in the last week and half, I have written over 20,000 words. HE has spoken to my spirit and made it clear that I must write.

I have asked HIM what he wanted me to do to reach the most people possible for His purposes. At most, I was thinking… die as a martyr for Him or something, but a variety of experiences have led me to know what I always kind of knew… I will write.

So, I began to write, and write, and write. I wrote a series of memoirs, or rather an autobiography of pivotal memories in my existence. I expounded upon Bible verses. I wrote His story as a children’s book or rather, as a fairy tale. I brainstormed book ideas for the future. On my heart was the idea of taking people from the Bible, keeping their story, but changing their names and details and creating Fiction pieces that illustrate that He really is relevant in our lives today.

I started with the book of Ruth. I wrote the beginning of the story as I picture it would be in modern times from the perspective of Naomi. I then began writing from the perspective of Ruth. I followed that with the perspective of Orpah, Ruth’s sister, and plan to end it from the perspective of Boaz. It’s a hot mess, but I’m so glad I got started. I wrote more in this piece than I have ever written in a fiction piece before, so it doesn’t matter if it is ever published. It’s on paper (at least some of it) and that was my goal.

Other than renewing in me the desire and motivation to write, He has been doing other great things. I am going on another trip to Cambodia with my fellowship. I am excited and nervous because there will be a lot of people going. I think we are taking about 16. Five of them are teenagers and then a mixed group of adults…. This feels boring even to write. Moving on.

SHINE, our women’s ministry is opening so many doors for me to serve, doors that I have only dreamed of. A few months ago, I was asked to step up as the Pryr Leader for SHINE events, which led to me leading the Pryr team for many other major fellowship events as well. Through this, He has shown me that my primary responsibility is to pry. I can’t move mountains on my own strength, but He can and will. He commands me to pry without ceasing and it’s not an easy task. It’s exhausting but so rewarding.

I share this to show you what HE is doing. Many individuals gave their lives to Him during those events, and I got to see it happen. A friend of mine asked me to pry for her coworker, who was not in the family, throughout one of the events, and by the end of that same night, she joined the family!

Another amazing thing He has done is to provide a way for me to share what I have learned in my walk with Him and especially from my mentor and from recovery. He placed two of my friends of my heart and I finally told each of them this week that I believed I was supposed to mentor/disciple them. They were both ecstatic.  They are enthusiastically working through the step-study books with me individually.  He even used my refusal to complete my homework the other night to reveal some more of my issues. This reminds me of the painting I have at home that I painted right after college. It’s called “Perfectly Imperfect.” I’m finally okay with that!

Why is that so amazing? Well, it is because this morning I received an email from another SHINE leader, asking me if I would join the mentorship group as they prepare to launch that new ministry. Their first meeting was Monday night, at the EXACT hour I was with my friend formalizing our mentorship relationship. Does HE have amazing timing or what!? 

The Women of the Night (WON), a smaller part of our women’s ministry (specifically to prostitutes) is just getting off the ground. He placed it on another friend’s heart last year and is bringing it fruition. PTL! She has been leading women through the alley on pryr walks during the day and tonight we had an amazing meeting. She shared testimonies of other similar groups being protected by the Lrd and reaping a great harvest. We pryd together and then went on a pryr walk through the alley. This was the first time anyone one of us have gone at night when the women are working. We were looked at. We walked around the block five times, praying as we walked, but mostly singing. I was way out of my comfort zone. I was mostly anxious about what they thought we were thinking. I didn’t want them to think we were judging them or feeling superior. I just had to trust Him and we believe IT starts tonight. Their freedom in Him is on the way. The enemy’s days of reign are numbered.

What else… My kids are still awesome and I’m taking a graduate level course in Linguistics online… ::deep breath:: Yet, with all of this, this week seems to be easy so far. He has placed HIS Angel to encamp around me and given me an anointing of ease. The ease is not constant, but it is certainly more frequent these days.

Love,

Brittany

TEACHING CONFUSION

Teaching Confusion

I’m toast. This is my second 12 hour work day in a row. Parent-Teacher conferences from the end of school yesterday at 4:20 until 8:00 pm last night. Parent-Teacher conferences from 8:30 am today until 8:00 pm tonight. It’s 4:45 pm, the second day.

I just had a parent teacher conference and couldn’t even remember who the kid was. I know her name. I know she is a good student, but I just couldn’t place her face. Seven months into the school year. I’ve stumbled my way through those types of parent-teacher conferences in the beginning of the school years, but never this far in. To top it off, her parents asked me more pointed questions than any other parents. I look at my grade book to identify the string of As next to her name. They ask, “How is her writing? How is her participation? How is her reading comprehension? How is she socially? How is her speaking ability? How does she do on oral presentations? All things I should be able to answer at this point and for most students, I can. But for some reason, I have lost the ability to form thoughts.

I stumble through my words, referring frequently to the graded essay I have on file for her. “An A student, a few grammatical issues. Makes all necessary corrections with little guidance. Hard worker. Pleasant.” Uhh… “Socially… she seems to get along with her peers. She works well in groups. Well individually. “ mmm… My thoughts finally form: Please leave now. Not that you are not great parents but I’m sucking right now and feeling like I want to sink into my chair or crawl under my desk and nibble on my hair. “Yes, a very hard worker. I like her a lot.”

It ended well. They said they were so glad I was her teacher and they felt so lucky. Their daughter said she loves my class and learns a lot. Upon reflection, everything I said was true. Thank God.

                                                                                                 

Just a quick update

Hi folks!


I'm so sorry not to write. I started writing a few blog entries and never finished them so I didn't post them. Upon rereading, they are not that interesting. They talk about shopping in an overcrowded Chinese Ikea and wanting to kick, cry, and huddle in a corner. It was ugly. I didn't do any of the above... only in my mind. 

Well, I have been very busy lately-- with work, working out, worship, and friends. The Father has blessed me so much here. Tonight, my friends and I celebrated my birthday (one day early). We went out to a Mexican Restaurant (yummmmmmmy!). I can't even describe it. They are just amazing. Not only are they amazing-- they were not even all there. 


I took a video of me showing and reading what they gave me, but it seems to be too big to post. I'll figure it out.

Chapter 13: Angry

If I could see red in anger, today I would have seen it. If I could see red in anger, last night, I would have seen it.

I bought a very nice and very decorative duve/sheet set and a body pillow from a co-worker who is moving last week and left it in my foyer, the pillow in a large Ikea bag and the duvet/sheet set in the original clear sturdy zipped plastic bag. I left many items in the foyer because— quite frankly, I can. I live alone and my foyer is very spacious. It is where things are out of the way and where I leave things when I get home until I’m ready to deal with them.

Apparently, I left my new suitcase, new jacket that had my class ring safely in the zipped pocket to make it easier to get through security at the airport, my large decorative bag I use for shopping, though it is not a shopping bag. It is a nice duffel bag and my new electronic water boiler.

I didn’t notice when any of those items went missing because I assumed my housekeeper had just stored them in normal places when she cleaned up. No big deal. Who wouldn’t want someone else to put their luggage away and store their new linens?

A week passed and I couldn’t find my purple jacket or my class ring, though I did not make a connection between the two at all, nor did I think my housekeeper touched them. I really thought I had left my class ring in the states from Christmas. I was beginning to worry that I left my new purple jacket in a restaurant or something. I searched through all of my laundry piles many times to no avail. I sadly let it go. It wouldn’t be the first time I left something I liked on a bus or in a foreign country never to see it again.

I decided last night that I would put my new linens on my bed, but as I scoured the house, I couldn’t find them. Suddenly, I realized that my body pillow and my new linens were not in my house and I searched every crevice again and again hoping to find them. I realized that the only other person with access was my housekeeper. I can’t even describe it. I was livid. So angry I could hardly breathe. I assumed she thought that I intended the linens and pillow as trash and threw them away—or maybe she thought they were there as gifts for her and took them. Either way, I was so beside myself that I laid on the floor to calm down. It had nothing to do with the money I spent or the objects themselves. I couldn’t care less about the money and I could certainly do without the objects since I had never even used them, but something about the situation left me—fuming.

Finally, I allowed myself to pray about the matter—that I would be able to let go of the anger. I remembered that what she had done was most likely not done in malice and even if it was, her offense against me was nothing compared to how I offend the Father every day of my life. Every time I use His name inappropriately. Every time I gossip. Every time I put someone or something above Him. The notion helped me to calm down and release the indignation for the night.

I dreamt that I woke up and found the items on a shelf that I had missed the night before. When I really woke up and was getting ready for work this morning, I remembered the dream, and again, I began to feel incensed. I prayed and let it go.

At work I spoke to a co-worker about it and he advised me to ask our housing director to call her (She ONLY speaks Chinese and he speaks English and Chinese) and ask about it. He emailed me back and told me that she thought I was going to ask her to throw the items in the garbage so she took them and gave them away. Wow, I thought. But then again, I am probably editing my thoughts.

She sent me a text shortly thereafter, which I had translated by a friend. It simply said she found my items and wanted to know if she was expected to work next week during Chinese New year. It felt to me that she was downplaying the situation. I was briefly incensed again, but quickly let it go.

Then I got home and found not only my two bags of linens/pillow in the living room, but my new suitcase as well. I did not even realize it was missing yet! I opened it and found the new electronic water boiler I just bought last week (something I was looking for, but thought it just got lost in the pile of stuff I brought back from the states which is located the spare room—stuff that I didn’t feel like going through quite yet) and the nice duffel I use on shopping trips. I pulled the body pillow out of its bag to wash the cover and found my new purple jacket rolled up in the bottom of the bag. I found in the zipped front pocket of the jacket, my class ring that I have been missing.

Suddenly I was fuming again. I prayed but new I had to write. Now, I feel better. I’m thinking of letting her go. I have had a few other issues and it just feels too stressful. Anyway, I’m grateful I have the opportunity to have help at home here. It’s definitely a blessing I know, a blessing that I will likely not have in the states.

God is teaching me stuff. Not exactly sure what today, but I’m sure it will be good. No, it will definitely be good.

Chapter 12: Ashes to Beauty. I know that's HIS plan

Two blogs in one. This week has been a challenge in many ways. The two stories I have below will show you why. However, it has been an amazing week as well. I have been shown how I am to serve while here and it is AMAZING. The two stories I have below are things He has allowed me witness so that I can be strengthened and inspired for His glory. They are motivating and I am so grateful for the place I have been blessed to be in in my life.


SUNDAY, JANUARY 15, 2012

I don’t cry much, but when I feel helpless, I cry. This evening, I cried.

I walked out of Jeff and Sonda’s apartment building after a refreshing and uplifting talk with Sonda (My matronly Chinese-Aunt-but-not-really-Chinese-nor-actually-my-aunt-because-she-is-from-Oklahoma-but-we-met-in-China) to walk to the bus stop to head back to my apartment. As I stood on the corner of the lightly treaded street, I saw on the corner across from me a man beating a woman. I looked around to see what the other people around were going to do, specifically the male passerbys, but no one did anything. I was appalled; I ran across the street, walked up to him and from a place deep in my chest and far too baritone to be a girly scream shouted at him with a burly “HEY!” I stared at him from about three feet away as he kept his grasp on her, then he dropped something and let her go to pick it up.

I was hoping that my mere presence and lack of fear would deter him and send him off, but it was clear that their relationship went deeper. As I still stared, enraged, like a dog protecting his master, not stepping back for an instant, he just looked at me, angry, but shocked very briefly before he grabbed her by the neck again and dragged her down the street.

My immediate reaction was to call 911… but there was no 911 and even if I could get ahold of the police, they probably wouldn’t speak English. So I followed their quick pace dialing my Chinese friend to ask for help. No answer. I called my other friend who is seeking to serve women in China who has been here for a few years. No answer.

They turned a familiar corner, which happened to be the way to my bus stop and I followed. I saw a guard in the nearby parking lot and ran up to him, pointing to them, speaking in English “Police” “Man beating woman” “Help” and mocked the motions of punching someone in the face. He shook his head and pointed to the building across the way with the open door. I quickly looked up to notice I was losing them and ran desperately into the open door. “Do you speak English?” I frantically shouted and with seeming incomprehension, the guard said “No.”

I kept running in the direction they went but when I turned the next corner, they were gone. There were so many turns they could have taken, buildings to enter, buses to jump on. There were other people around. They were gone, camouflaged in the crowd. I crossed the street, looking between the buildings to no avail. Just then, my Chinese friend called me back. I answered and told her what had happened and how I didn’t know what to do; though she was concerned about me, she made it very clear that in China, the police would do nothing to interfere in domestic problems. “You’re not in America anymore.” Her words were honest, yet filled with compassion for me. She said that in China, if someone is laying on the ground, no one will do anything to help. “It’s just China. It’s the way it is… Are you crying?” she asked. I broke.

“Well sort of” I replied and my voice cracked. I crouched to the ground against the building crying as I talked to her. “I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. In no place is it okay for a man to beat a woman in the face and then drag her down the street by her neck. I don’t care what country I’m in.”

I got up and when we got off the phone, I decided to walk home instead of taking the bus. I was shaking and crying and needed to be free. It wasn’t that far and I take the walk all the time. It was barely dusk, still visibly light and beginning to rain harder. I was disturbed and cried for several minutes as I walked down the sidewalk getting more and more wet.

The cold rain mixed with the warm tears until I was no longer crying, just emotionally numb. The walk was about thirty minutes and I did a lot of thinking. Suddenly I was more angry and filled with regret. I wish I beat the crap out of him, I thought over and over again. He was a wee little man. I could have taken him. I really didn’t care if in response, I got punched, kicked, slapped, stabbed, or thrown into the street (but not shot. I pondered his possible weaponry before approaching him, remembering he likely had no weapons or at least no guns… according to Chinese custom. It was a consideration. It just passed very quickly). I just wished I got one jab in. I wished she could have seen a woman saying no. Then I thought, I know that is not what God would want me to do. And still, I had wished I had done it. My flesh cried for justice.

Towards the end of the walk, I decided that I just needed to pray for them. Maybe no one had ever stood up for that woman before and maybe she will never forget that I did. I prayed that God would use that experience to make a change in her… and him too, though my compassion was centered on her. I guess I just have to accept that I can’t change the world with my flesh, but with my prayers, God will change hearts.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 17, 2012
I met with the ladies from my fellowship for coffee. We interceeded over our plans to start serving women of the night-- so to speak. We went over plans for me and Sonda to begin an ESL study of the Word. We went over plans for the fellowship band to go on tour. We went over plans for the Women's fellowship to begin an intercession team for the many functions. I was asked to head up that team. I accepted. Many of His puzzle pieces came together on Tuesday night.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 19, 2012

It’s so hard. Hearing the shrill screams through the thin walls of my apartment. I live in a nice place even, not expected. Not knowing which apartment they are coming from or if they are even coming from an apartment. Maybe they are coming from the ground, thirteen floors down. A male screams. A woman screams. She weeps. He weeps. Or does he mock her? I can’t tell. It goes on for fifteen minutes.

The emotions I go through are overwhelming. I go to each wall and window, listening for sound, trying to determine its source. It’s impossible to tell. Has someone just received news that a loved one died? Is there a screaming match beyond anything I have ever witnessed? Is there a wild beating occurring? Is there any help? There is no one to call, at least for me. No one to tell. No one who BOTH could and would intervene because it’s domestic and the laws are different here, at least the extent to which they are followed is different.

It’s not the first time I have heard this. I must have forgotten before, but as soon as the weeping and screaming began, I knew it wasn’t the first time I had heard it. I prayed the blood of the Son over the family in trouble. The noise softened. I became calm.

Again, tonight, I felt helpless, completely with nothing to do to help except pray. Really, isn’t that all we really have? We can intervene in people’s lives to help them, but we can’t change them. In the end, our prayers are what counts. Perhaps rather than seeing this as the only thing I can do, I should see this as the one thing I must do, first, always.

Perhaps there is no other believer in this apartment building. Perhaps there is no other believer in this apartment complex. Here, it is very likely. Perhaps, I just need to pray.

------------------------

This has been an amazing week despite the things I have witnessed. I am being shown where the need is so that I can serve. More on that soon…

CHAPTER 11: For My Faithful... Apparently more than a few: A blog so ordinary and boring I’m embarrassed to publish it

For My Faithful... Apparently more than a few: A blog so ordinary and boring I’m embarrassed to publish it

I seem to be looking through a peculiar lens this week. Everything I do and observe, I am narrating like a book in my head.  I am so excited about writing that I am writing as I live—like an outside observer at times. I can’t tell if it’s healthy or not. If I could manage to hold onto the stories long enough to record them, perhaps it would be at the very least, productive.

I also can’t tell if I’m merely jet lagged or thrilled about life. Of course I am generally sleepy at 7, asleep by 10— and awake at all hours of the night (though normally I sleep until 7:30 or later, shower, dress, walk quickly to work and arrive barely on time at 8:15— usually cranky because I forgot breakfast and coffee)—  However, my sleeping patterns are amplified right now.

This morning I was awake very early but managed to sleep in until… 4:45 AM. I was ready for work, much more clean cut than normal two hours early. I read the Bible a bit and expounded upon a few verses in Genesis for what turned into a two-paged, single-spaced, analytical devotional essay.

I got to work early and cleaned up much of my paper work around the classroom—a hefty task that I usually don’t even consider tackling anymore. I taught my classes with much vigor, feeling like an effective educator most of the day as I beamed at the group discussions I was eaves dropping on that were mostly on topic and quite analytical. I had many proud-of-my-student moments today. I graded more assignments in one hour than I have graded in weeks (winter break aside), had a conversation a with student about grades I had been dreading, spent three hours absolutely engrossed in a book in a coffee shop after work and all the while—I couldn’t stop smiling— all day. It’s like I’m in love, but not, clearly not because I was incredibly productive. It was creepy. I’m still so keyed up at almost 9 PM that I took some supplements to help me get sleepy because I can tell that it is going to be a restless night. I hate restless nights. I love this productivity and I don’t want it to end, but I do want to feel sane and balanced, sort of like before… but maybe with an extra portion of both. The good side is that I’ve been so productive and not bored due to my new book habit that I think I’ve lost a few pounds. If I keep that up for say… ever, it’ll be good.

I feel like I’m rambling but I want to keep my promise to blog even though I don’t feel like I have anything very interesting to say.

Speaking of my new book habit… It’s not that I didn’t read before. I just read different stuff, more… Christian stuff if you will. You see, I recently discovered a guilty pleasure that is taking up more time than I should allow. It is something I felt shame about for the first few days and now I just want to get it over with so I can move on with my life. It started with the movies this summer, but I just couldn’t stop there. I turned to the books on my flight home last week—simply out of curiosity… and the cat is dead. It’s Twilight—the vampire saga. Not my style AT ALL. First, I don’t like fiction. Second, I don’t like fantasy. Third, I don’t like reading ANYTHING that is not realistic and spiritually and emotionally uplifting and yet, I can’t stop. I’m addicted. But it might be a good thing. I have only been absorbed in a book a few times in my life and I think it is merely because I have tried the wrong books. I am actually excited about reading FICTION—other fiction, no more vampire series… once I finish this one of course. I found myself sneaking pages in between classes… and then reading during class when my students were doing group work—not a good teaching strategy, but that was yesterday. Today I was good, mostly.

I managed to finish the first book yesterday afternoon and then decided to take a break. I wasn’t going to start the next book until I had a long weekend. I got a list of thrilling Christian books from a friend at work and I was going to read those instead in the mean time. But as I sat on my lunch break, looking at my Kindle scanning from Francine Rivers to Twilight: New Moon and back again and I simply couldn’t focus on another series until I finish this one. That was at lunch. I went to the coffee shop across from my school after work and sat in a corner from 4:30 pm until 7:30 pm reading.

My boring rant is over. Well not really.

I started to write a personal memoir last week after praying about what to write about. Yesterday I prayed for guidance in writing as well and then I had an idea for another book, a biblical allegory. I even got the inspiration and ideas for a whole allegorical series about our relationship with Christ. I got started. Then today, I prayed for guidance and ended up with a long analytical essay on some verses so I can’t say I’m not writing. I can’t say I’m not praying about it. I can’t say I know where this is going… Oh well, God does.

Suddenly the growling within me is reminding me that I forgot to eat dinner.

Peace

God Bless